by Rue
The insect fixed its large green eyes on her and chuckled.
“Did you just laugh?”
“I’m sorry about taking over like that without your permission, but I knew you’d never agree. Don’t worry, my darling, I will tell Hazel that you passed with high marks before I flutter back to my cozy cottage, so she won’t have to fail her test.”
Flynn could’ve sworn the dragonfly kissed her cheek before it flew off toward Hazel on its way back to Dreamwood Forest.
She worked very hard to ignore Hazel’s jumping and squealing, so hard in fact, that she didn’t notice when Cabot, the youthful golden-haired Master of Protections, escorted Hazel away.
After a remarkably short wait the High Priestess emerged to announce Flynn’s Hapu for her nine levels of training.
“Flynn Kapowai Hawthorn, rise and receive your Hapu.”
Flynn rose and faced her mother.
Kahu lifted her slender white willow wand and spoke the ancient words for the Spirit Hapu.
The crowd gasped as they watched the interlocking triangles flow from the tip of Kahu’s wand to the flesh of Flynn’s right forearm.
“The prophecy is true,” they whispered, “and the ninth daughter will return the gift of Spirit magick to Aotearoa.”
Hope invigorated the crowd and no one heard Anise scoff, “I fear this test may be rigged.”
Most of the remaining tests were uneventful, with the majority of initiates falling into the Air and Water Hapus. Still, there were more positive results in the Fire and Earth tests than the coven could remember recording since before Kahu’s grandmother’s reign as High Priestess.
“I fear it is a sign of the Shadow Coven’s growing power,” Thelema said emphatically.
“I choose to see this as a sign of balance restored,” Kahu countered. “Today is a good day for the inhabitants of Aotearoa, with nearly one hundred and fifty initiates accepted for training.”
Hopefuls who had not passed the initiation would be allowed a second attempt in their fourteenth year, but most would simply return to their village and use their limited skills to help their families and neighbors.
The coven moved to adjourn when Cabot marched in with Hazel. “Pardon my absence, High Priestess, but you asked me to keep an eye out for potential problems.” He pushed Hazel toward the row of Masters and Mistresses of the coven. “I believe I’ve found one.”
Kahu rose from her place of honor at the table of the Grand Coven and walked with slow, purposeful strides, landing toe-to-toe with the anxious young girl. The frost in her eyes could’ve stopped time. “Hazel Ivy Tetekura, have you forgotten who is the High Priestess of Aotearoa and who is the initiate?”
“No, your Highness, I mean Priestship—Priestess.” Hazel’s voice wavered and her hands shook.
“Release her, Cabot. This youngling is not a threat.”
Cabot removed his strong slender fingers from Hazel’s shoulders. Four deep depressions remained in the fabric of her cloak.
“What is her crime?” Kahu asked.
Cabot nodded in deference to his Priestess and replied, “During, and after, the testing of Flynn Hawthorn,” he said the name without inflection—a simple report—nothing more, “this one pressed through the gate of the marae and waved her arms, ceaselessly.”
Kahu nodded and fixed Hazel with a piercing gaze. “I suspected as much.”
Soft mutterings swept through the seated members of the coven.
The High Priestess silenced them with a wave of her hand and addressed Cabot. “Bring my daughter, at once.”
Cabot did not smile or frown, he nodded and strode out of the Meeting House.
Flynn saw the Master of Protections exiting the building and ran toward him. “Cabot, sir, excuse me. My friend Hazel is missing. She—”
“She is not missing. She has been detained.”
Flynn stared in confusion. “What?”
“Follow me.” He spun on his heel and quickly returned to the Meeting House. He did not look back, confident his command would be obeyed.
Flynn entered the room and instantly recognized the depth of her mother’s displeasure.
“Please, stand next to your friend, daughter. I want you to witness the result of your ruse.”
“But, Mother, Hazel didn’t—”
Kahu’s head jerked toward Flynn. “Do not mistake me for your mother, initiate.”
Flynn bit her tongue to keep from responding and hurried to Hazel’s side.
Kahu returned to her place at the table. As she moved to sit in her chair she pulled her wand and sent a flaming arrow curse straight toward Hazel’s chest.
Flynn threw herself in front of Hazel.
Hazel’s hand shot forward and she shouted the counter-spell, “Toromi.” A swirl of Water swallowed the fiery projectile whole. The girls fell into a heap of confusion on the floorboards.
“What are you two playing at?” Kahu slipped her wand into the folds of her cloak and glared at the girls. “Daughter, you shame me. There isn’t a witch in this room that hasn’t experienced your utter lack of magickal talent firsthand. Did you honestly believe that you could fool us with your stunts this morning? Have you no respect for the sacred tapu of this meeting house?” She did not wait for a reply. “I placed you in the Spirit Hapu because our people need hope, not to reward you for your deception.”
The girls remained on the floor, Hazel pressing sharp half-moon fingernail marks into Flynn’s hand. Their punishment would be terrible and Flynn’s back talk wouldn’t win them any points.
“Hazel, your magick runs deep. A Level One initiate cannot counter a spell of the High Priestess. The blood of the lost village of Toki runs in your veins and one day, Goddess willing, you will learn reverence for the power you wield.”
Flynn felt a wave of jealousy wash over her heart when she heard her mother speak those words of praise to Hazel. Part of her felt admiration for her friend’s magickal gifts, but another part ached for a crumb from that feast of maternal pride.
Berea, Master of Initiates, stood waiting to be recognized by Kahu.
She waved him back to his seat. “Master Berea, my own daughter directed this affront at me, and I will be the one to decide her fate.”
“Yes, Priestess.” He calmly folded himself back into his chair.
“You shall both remain in the Spirit Hapu. We are now all complicit in this subterfuge.” She took a moment to make eye contact with each of the twelve members of the Grand Coven. She received eleven nods and one grimace. She addressed her dissenter immediately. “Tamsin, I see you have concerns. Good. I’ll put you in charge of the younglings’ reparations.”
Flynn groaned as silently as possible.
Tamsin violently tugged a lock of her own thinning hair and sank her top teeth into the papery thin flesh of her bottom lip. “Yes, Priestess,” she replied.
“Every day after you complete your Level One training, Hazel and Flynn, you will report to Mistress Tamsin at the Herb Hut. You will be utterly at her disposal until the supper gong sounds.” Kahu paused and waited for a response, which did not come. “Understood?” she asked, irritation clinging to the edges of her voice.
The girls rose to their feet and replied in unison, “Yes, Priestess.”
“Come,” she beckoned them to the table. She reached across and bared each of their right arms. Holding their fresh tattoos side-by-side she pressed firmly on each girl’s forearm. “This is not a mark to be taken lightly, initiates. You must earn the respect it demands.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice so that only Flynn and Hazel could hear before she added, “Hazel, you will continue to—assist Flynn.” She released their arms and addressed everyone gathered. “We are adjourned.”
The room emptied before Kahu could close her record book.
Initiates tugged their cloaks close against the biting wind and bustled about in the front courtyard of the Meeting House, searching for their friends and lining up with their correct Hapu. Level Nine initia
tes held up banners representing each circle.
A boy of Vignan descent held the banner for the Earth Hapu. His curved nose and falcon-like yellow eyes darted over the crowd and quickly identified his charges.
Flynn watched him reach up with one hand and tug the tip of his standard, causing each symbol to glow in clockwise order. First the inverted triangle bisected by a horizontal line just above the tip, next a pentacle, followed by symbolic pillars of stone, and finally the lone kauri tree—Tane Mahuta. An invisible force drew initiates bearing the mark of the Earth Hapu to him. She appreciated the enchantment, but couldn’t help wondering if it qualified as a waste of magick.
Hazel came sprinting out of nowhere and arrived out of breath. “Where's our banner?” she asked excitedly.
“What?”
“The banner for the Spirit Hapu, where is it?” Hazel repeated.
Flynn glanced around the chaotic courtyard for two seconds and replied, “There isn’t one.”
Hazel couldn’t accept this answer. She raised her finger to make a point when someone smacked directly into her with a huge bundle of sticks.
The bundle of sticks scattered everywhere and the carrier landed in a heap on top of Hazel.
Flynn pushed the thick-armed boy off of Hazel and helped her friend back to her feet. “Watch where you’re going next time.”
The dark-haired, olive-skinned boy jumped up like a frog. “Pardon me, so sorry—didn’t see you—all the wands.” He turned his head to survey the disaster, revealing a long, raised scar on his left cheek. “Oh, Goddess protect me, I’ve made a mess of it, eh?” He squatted down and picked up the practice wands, one at a time, inspecting each of them for damage as he carefully restacked the items in his other arm.
“It’s all right, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” Hazel bent down to help the boy. “I’m Hazel. What’s your name?” she asked, interrupting his count.
His clear green eyes looked right through her as he struggled to hold onto the number in his head and mind his manners. “Twenty-seven,” he announced and nodded politely, his wavy black hair sliding over his marred cheek.
“Your name is Twenty-Seven? Do you come from a big family?” Hazel giggled and winked at Flynn.
The boy blinked twice and then laughed so hard he dropped the wands a second time.
Hazel dove to grab them and thunked heads with Twenty-Seven. “Ouch! Sorry. I’ll just let you grab them.” She rubbed her head and repeated her question. “But, really, what is your name?”
“Oh, right, it’s Po.”
“Hi, Po, I’m Hazel.”
“Yes, you said that, but I was counting…” His voice trailed off as he looked around at the jumble of wands. “My ma is gonna turn me into a wild boar!”
Flynn sized up the boy, the wands, and the fear that spiked through his green eyes when he mentioned his mother. “Is your mother Paitangi, Mistress of Carving?”
“Yes, but how—”
“My mother’s the High Priestess.” Flynn shrugged and nodded her head sympathetically.
Po dropped to one knee and touched his forehead, “I guess my ma can wait in line. Do as you will, Hawthorn.”
“In perfect love and perfect trust,” Hazel completed the phrase as she pulled him to his feet. “Call her Flynn, she’s one of us. Now, let us help you with these wands. There doesn’t seem to be a Spirit Hapu banner in the courtyard, anyway.”
Po moved to drop to his knee again, but Flynn intercepted. “Seriously, Po, you’ve got to stop doing that.”
He shook his head and rubbed the greenstone amulet around his neck. “That’s my fault, too. It’s my job to set up all the banners, but there hasn’t been anyone in the Spirit Hapu since before I was born, so I forgot, eh?”
“It’s no big deal, forget about it,” Flynn said.
Hazel burst out laughing, “I guess he probably will.”
“Will what?” Flynn asked.
“Forget,” Hazel blurted out between giggles.
Po and Flynn finally got the joke and the three of them were nearly in tears when Anise Aura walked past and sniped, “Oh, you managed to make a huge mess. Yes, that is laughable.”
Ino and Eva sneered, and followed Anise out of the courtyard.
A bucket of water dumped on a blazing fire could not have doused their mood faster.
“Come on, we better get these picked up.” Hazel bent down and grabbed as many wands as she could hold. “How many are there supposed to be, Po?”
“There should be fifty-one.” Po stopped and looked at the two girls crawling across the ground, helping him. “Make sure you stack them all the same direction, they don’t like it if they’re tip to stern.”
His warning would have been more helpful if it had been delivered a moment earlier. One of the wands in Flynn’s bundle shook violently. It had been stacked in the opposite direction of the others and before she could correct her error it launched out of her pile in a fizzle of blue light that burned a small hole in the sleeve of her wool jumper.
Po opened his mouth to apologize, but Flynn put her hand up with the same signal she used to stop her moa, and shook her head.
The trio retrieved all fifty-one practice wands and delivered them to Sorrel, the Master of Ceremonial Magick, and his group of Level Four initiates. He bowed deeply to Flynn, making no mention of the fiasco after her initiation test, and thanked them all for their kindness. Or at least that’s what Hazel claimed he had said after they left the hut.
“How can you be sure, Hazel? I couldn’t understand a word he said,” Flynn argued.
“If those were even words, eh?” Po agreed. “My ma says Sorrel is over two hundred years old, I don’t think anyone’s heard a thing he’s said for at least seventy-five of those years.” Po laughed at his own joke and whistled for his moa.
“Where are you off to?” Hazel asked.
“Mistress Windemere’s tree house,” he announced in a perfectly normal voice.
Flynn and Hazel instantly snickered. Mistress Windemere held the unofficial honor of youngest, and most attractive, member of the Grand Coven.
“Um, why?” Flynn prodded.
“Well, because I’m in the Air Hapu and Divination with the Mistress of the Ether is my first training period today.”
“Can we come?” Hazel asked. “I mean, there’s only the two of us in our Hapu, and I think everyone’s forgotten us.”
“Sure, but my little guy can only take two.”
Hazel blew her overly complicated call and Mr. Mango roared into view.
“He’s a big bugger, ain’t he?” Po said.
“Indeed,” Hazel purred, mostly to Mr. Mango. She led him to the nearest platform so she and Flynn could climb onto his broad feathery back. Moa’s have no vestigial wings, so if you don’t get a good grip with your knees, you’re a goner. The girl’s squeezed tight and Mr. Mango easily outpaced the competition.
Mistress Windemere’s tree house lay nestled high in an ancient oak near the ferryman’s hut at Mata Crossing. Twenty-five children holding hands in a circle would have been hard pressed to reach all the way around the massive trunk. Generations of careful pruning and training had created a natural spiral staircase and a twisting branch banister.
Flynn rubbed her hand on the beautiful tree trunk and wished her people had not lost the ability to speak to the trees. Deep in her chest she felt a rumble that sounded like “Welcome.” She jumped back and shoved her hands into the pockets of her trousers.
“Welcome, welcome!” Mistress Windemere sang from the first balcony. Her hair gleamed white as goose down, but she was barely ten years older than the Level One initiates. Her meteoric rise through the levels held legendary status. She had completed all nine in fewer than three years, rather than the customary eight. When she gave her Level Nine mastery demonstration, her hair turned from bright red to white, before the Grand Coven’s collective eyes. This magickal transformation had long been a sign of special skills in divination. Windemere immediately
took an apprenticeship to the then Mistress of the Ether, Ginger, and within five years Mistress Ginger dematerialized into the very Ether she manipulated.
Windemere floated down a few steps and noticed the girls. “Po, my favorite carver! I see you’ve brought some guests. Who do we have the honor of adding to the Air Hapu?”
Po’s lovely olive skin blushed under Windemere’s gentle gaze, his scar unnoticed by her admiration. He stumbled over his own tongue searching for the right answer.
Flynn stepped into the light and came to his aid. “I’m Flynn Hawthorn and this is my friend, Hazel. We are the Spirit Hapu and are requesting permission to join your training session.”
Windemere’s long white hair shimmered over her shoulders as she bowed deeply, but she made no verbal acknowledgement of Flynn’s connection to the High Priestess. “All seers and seekers are welcome in my tree. Come in and find a space on the mat.”
A brief spurt of whispers sputtered through the room when Flynn entered, but thankfully it faded rapidly.
“Today we will be reading the information stored in found objects.” Windemere smiled and nodded repetitively. “Every time you touch something you leave a minute piece of your energy behind. If you can learn how to decipher these bits of energy you can discover a vast world of hidden information.” She nodded more vigorously and clapped her hands.
Hazel jumped at the sound.
“Who would like to go first?”
Silence.
“Oh, come now, my little witches-in-training.” Her crystal clear eyes challenged the initiates. “How do you expect to fly if you are afraid to stand?”
The mention of flying got everyone’s attention.
A small redheaded boy named Daval stood up and walked to the front. He selected a dilapidated old hat of dusty black fabric with three frayed corners and a few bends in the brim.
“Excellent choice, Daval.” Mistress Windemere clapped rapidly while she walked. “Please come and sit in this chair.” She looked out over the initiates and added, “I must ask for absolute silence. Daval has to be able to focus on the energy in the item he’s chosen.”
