A Different Kind of Witch

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A Different Kind of Witch Page 17

by Carol A. Robi


  ¨With this,¨ Boke said, lifting the small glass bottle of suspicious looking dark oil that smelt strangely like coconut milk, ¨I’ll never need a bandaid.¨

  “No way I'd carry that in my bag. I'd rather battle with bandaids and disinfecting creams than stand its smell.” Boke laughed when Sophie said this.

  “I prefer effectivity over perfumed scents and beauty,” Boke said.

  “I noticed,” Sophie replied, still amused.

  ¨Lets start,¨ Boke now said seriously, setting her bag away.

  They spent hours grinding roots, boiling leaves and making pastes to just the right consistency. The number of ingredients needed for the spell were incomparable to the simple spells performed in Earth and Enchantment's class. Sophie got even more worried when she saw how meticulous Boke was, always remeasuring portions, and constantly confirming with the large medieval book they’d smuggled out of the library, before adding any ingredient.

  Sophie began to panic as she watched her friend work.

  ¨Boke..¨ She started, finally gaining the courage to deter her.

  ¨It’s ready!¨ Boke exclaimed happily, nearly knocking the air out of Sophie’s lungs with a tight hug.

  Sophie couldn’t bring herself to disappoint Boke now.

  They let the two final potions cure for at least six hours as the spell book had instructed, and instead occupied themselves by streaming movies in the computer room for the rest of the day.

  Wednesday morning found Sophie watching apprehensively as Boke used the scary bone knife to slit her palm open and squeeze her blood onto a mixing bowl they’d raided from the Spells lab.

  A drop at a time, Boke’s blood slipped into the clay bowl, where she’d already mixed the other two cured potions together. Boke then stepped back, holding out her hand for Sophie to take it into hers. She did.

  Both their hands were shaking. Holding hands wasn’t required for the spell, but they both needed it to keep a semblance of calm.

  They waited.

  Nothing happened.

  One minute.

  Two. Ten. Fifteen. Now they just felt stupid.

  Twenty minutes, and Sophie began to shuffle impatiently.

  ¨Something is not right,¨ Sophie finally spoke up, dropping her hand so that she could peep into the mixture. She stirred it a little, but the bubbles they’d been informed by the spellbook to expect didn't appear. The pre-made potions and blood lay in an inhomogeneous gooey mess.

  Boke frowned at the unresponsive mess.

  ¨What went wrong?¨ Sophie asked.

  ¨The spell. I can't prepare for it,¨ she said frowning. ¨You have to..¨

  ¨Good.. What?¨ Sophie exclaimed in shock, her voice rising expectedly.

  ¨You have to be the one to do it all,¨ Boke said, not bothering to explain.

  ¨I don't know if you've noticed, but magic and I do not mix.¨

  ¨Nonsense!¨ Boke declared as she poured the gooey mixture out into the sink. ¨You are a magical creature,¨ she argued, ¨of course you can do it. ¨

  ¨I’ve never done a successful spell before,¨ Sophie argued, throwing her hands up in frustration.

  ¨This will be your first,¨ Boke remained adamant.

  ¨No it won't! Even you were unable to do it.¨

  ¨I wasn't unable,¨ she said.

  Sophie arched an eyebrow. There she was standing and washing the items used clean, clearly something did not work.

  “Do I need to point out the obvious?”

  ¨I was not unable to do it,¨ Boke repeated, a shadow crossing over her face. ¨I just don't have the right kind of magic anymore,¨ she added.

  Now she had Sophie’s full attention.

  ¨What do you mean?¨

  ¨The spell needs to be cast by one with pure magic. You have pure magic.¨

  ¨But what makes your magic not pure,¨ Sophie asked, her heartbeat picking up again.

  ¨It just isn’t. We have a lot of work ahead of us,¨ she proceeded quickly. ¨From now on, only you may touch the ingredients,¨ she instructed.

  She denied Sophie the chance to argue some more, as she immediately began giving instructions.

  Boke made her rinse the utensils she’d just cleaned, saying she needed to rinse off her impure touch. There was that uncomfortable word again- impure.

  They went out to the gardens again, this time she made Sophie pick herbs from hers and Klaus' garden patch, saying she trusted Klaus to be a good herbalist more than she trusted the teacher. Plus, she added, there was a higher chance of she and Klaus having pure magic as they were still young.

  ¨You are young too,¨ Sophie argued, wondering what this pure meant.

  The younger girl could be surprisingly bossy when she needed to be. It was funnier than it was annoying.

  They had to wait out another six hours at least for the complicated blend of potions to rest before they could start on the actual spell. In the meantime, Sophie introduced Boke to the world of The Vampire Diaries, the TV series.

  Boke kept pointing out the inconsistencies to real Witch and Avalon facts. But towards the middle of the first season, she started warming up to the characters.

  They stayed up late, both of them too tense to fall asleep. They finally retired to bed at about 3am.

  Sophie dragged herself out of bed the next day to find Boke sitting patiently, her back ramrod straight, staring out the window.

  “The warning bell sounded some minutes back,” she announced.

  “Good morning to you too,” Sophie grumbled.

  After breakfast, they snuck back into Sophie’s quarters. Sophie dragged the huge spellbook closer, and the spell casting began.

  The first step, blood from the carrier to be mixed in the bowl.

  ¨Use your own knife,¨ Boke instructed, but Sophie had no knife, only a pair of scissors. She fetched them from the bathroom.

  ¨Will this do?¨ She asked.

  ¨It'll have to.¨

  Sophie’s hand was shaking as she sliced across Boke’s already healed palm from yesterday’s try. Her blood flowed over Sophie’s fingers into the mixing bowl. Once she felt it was enough, she folded her palm to stop the bleeding, while Sophie busied herself with pouring the bowl's contents into the ceramic bowl where the rest of the cured concoctions were.

  The burbling started almost instantly. Sophie found Boke's smaller hand and enclosed it in hers for courage.

  She read from the open spell book. ¨Days of old, age of new. A set of one, a set of two. Reveal the life shared with her departed mother, Maseke Maiga.”

  The burbles intensified into a smoky film that swirled around them. Now came the part Sophie had been dreading. With their fingers still interlocked for courage, She used that same hand to raise the still bloody pair of scissors on the counter, to make a similar cut across her right palm.

  A jolt of energy hit both of them the moment their bloods mingled in the bowl, Sophie still repeatedly chanting the words from the spellbook. The smoke swirled faster and faster around them, so fast that Sophie began to lose her balance.

  She felt as though she were floating through the air, swept up in the power of the smoke's whirlwind, with Boke flying beside her, whose hand she still held on to.

  Sophie shut her eyes as they spun faster and faster until all her limbs were numb.

  It stopped suddenly.

  Chapter 31

  Sophie remained immobile, her eyes still pressed shut as she waited for her racing heart to calm down, and to regain power over her sensory nerves. when the latter happened, she realised panicked that she no longer held Boke's hand. Her eyes then flew open, only to be blinded by the glaring light surrounding her, so she closed her eyes again.

  ¨Boke?¨ Sophie called out in a whisper. No answer. She debated groping around blindly, but then thought better of it, choosing instead to try open her eyes again.

  “Boke?” She attempted again while blinking against the uncomfortable lighting.

  Slowly her eyes began to adjust. She was in a room
of sorts, as four walls enclosed it. She was alone, and Boke was nowhere to be seen.

  Did it work? She wondered to herself, or had she somehow managed to screw up the spell?

  When her eyes were fully adjusted, as much as they could under such brilliant light, she perceived a door. That was a good sign, doors had been mentioned in all the research they’d done about the death recall spell.

  She headed towards the door and stepped out.

  She remembered then that she ought to leave a trail so as to easier find her way back. The research books they’d read had suggested just imagining whatever symbol one wished to use as a landmark. Sophie did just that, closed her eyes and thought, only she found her mind wandering to Boke’s tattoos, and when she opened her eyes, Boke's bone knife lay beside her feet.

  She shrugged off her surprise, picked up the curved knife, and used it to mark an X on the door.

  She now allowed herself to look around. She was at the end of a very long corridor, her eyes unable to see its other end, with hundreds of doors along the corridor. She tried those closest to her, but they remained shut. Perhaps those doors were to Boke's more recent memories, and the spell only let her access the memories Boke shared with her mother.

  Sophie assumed the memories she was seeking would be located at the end of the corridor, as they’d be Boke’s earliest memories, and so she started running down the seemingly endless corridor.

  Sophie had no idea how long she’d been running. Her chest hurt, and her breath now came out in painful rasps. Just as Sophie was certain she couldn’t keep running without stopping to rest, she spied the outline of a door in the far distance, signaling the end of the corridor. Reserve energy from somewhere kicked in, and so she picked up her pace despite her burning chest.

  The door grew larger and larger as she approached it, until she was standing right before it. Sophie took a moment to catch her breath before proceeding. Then she tried the doorknob. It gave way. Immediately, using the knife in her hand, she scratched an X on both sides of the door before going in.

  Three more doors stared back at her, once inside. She tried them all, but only one opened. She made the same markings on it, before proceeding inside.

  That’s when she heard the muffled sounds of conversation.

  Excitement and curiosity now took up where exhaustion had left, and her fingers were shaking as she opened the next door and marked it, then she spent a few seconds wondering whether the room's occupants had seen her.

  Sophie found herself in a bedroom, Maseke’s bedroom. It was a large room of elaborate decor. Clearly, where Maseke might have been miserable, money was not a problem. But despite all the expensive furniture, personal items were meagre. Sophie thought it sad, pitiful even. All the luxury in the world couldn’t mask Maseke Maiga’s misery.

  An exquisite four poster bed centred the whole array, where a woman lay curled, flipping through a magazine. Large bay windows beckoned across her bed, looking out into a lavishly manicured garden.

  Sophie recognised Maseke instantly. Her hair was the same russet brown as Boke’s, with heavy curls running untamed. Her skin was the same rich dark colour, but her eyes, unlike Boke’s, were a regular shade. They were a soft brown. Sophie found herself wondering about that. Maseke Maiga wasn’t a slim woman, though it’d be an exaggeration to call her fat either. She seemed about 168cm tall at most.

  Since she barely glanced her way, Sophie was confident the Wailer Witch before her couldn’t detect her presence.

  Just as Sophie was about to relax, a tall man walked into the room after a quick knock, without waiting to be allowed inside.

  “Another inspection?” Maseke snickered. “Honestly, Jan, this is beyond annoying now.”

  Jan? Sophie could hardly believe that the tall handsome young man in the room with them at that moment was her principal. This Jan looked nothing like the shrivelled up old man she’d only seen twice, not that she’d seen much detail of him either.

  The Jan before her was tall, over 186cm tall, for he seemed taller than her father. He was broad shouldered, had rich auburn hair, and though his skin was as pale as any Avalon’s, he was without doubt, beautiful.

  But something else caused Sophie to gasp when he turned her way briefly to raffle through a drawer. His eyes. Those were Boke’s eyes!

  They were mellower than Boke’s, but they were the same tawny yellow-brown, and unmistakably sharp. If she’d harboured any doubts before about the Count being Boke’s father, those doubts were quickly dispelled away.

  ¨Things will change one day. I promise you..¨ Jan was saying, stopping before her and tipping her chin to face him in a light caress.

  And they were indeed lovers as the reports confirmed!

  ¨Things will never change. They never changed for my mother. I’ll forever be a prisoner.¨

  ¨No you won't. I’ll see to it that you are left to be.¨

  ¨Will you now!¨ Maseke was suddenly angry, slapping his hand away. She rose off the bed and walked to the window to stare outside.

  ¨I can’t even step outside this house. Should I place my face too close to the window, the paparazzi is all over me, that is if an enraged Witch’s random spell doesn’t scald me. Should I try make a spell, I'm electrocuted by some curse-”

  “Masi-”

  “I am a Witch by name only, just waiting for when my head will be chopped off.¨

  ¨I’ll never let that happen,¨ Jan interrupted to say passionately, walking over to wrap his arms around her.

  She shoved him away instead.

  ¨You let them put a spell on this house, so how will you stop them from executing me? I can't even light a candle without striking a match. Do you know how many times I subconsciously whisper a spell only to feel my senses get fried by their stupid curse?¨

  ¨They are just scared. And these precautions have been approved by the High Council. There is nothing I can do about it.¨

  ¨You could talk to your father..¨ Jan cringed at this.

  ¨Father has hardened even more after mother died.” They talked of Jan Sanguine's father as though he was still alive. Boke wasn’t born yet. Sophie assumed Maseke was pregnant at the time.

  “You know how he is,” Jan went on. “He won’t listen to me..¨ The scene faded away before Sophie’s eyes suddenly, and all that was left was an empty white room.

  Sophie waited a while, but nothing more appeared to replace the glaring blankness of the room. She assumed the memory was over, at least the part where Boke was awake to witness.

  She moved through yet another door, and now found herself on a balcony overlooking a large entrance lobby. A few steps below her was Maseke, crouched as though in hiding by the stairs, listening to a conversation been held in the kitchen below. Sophie then spied the small bump of her stomach.

  ¨With all due respect, you are a fool Jan!¨ Someone snapped, a male voice speaking in what Sophie identified as a Welsh accent.

  ¨Because of our many years of friendship, I’ll pretend you didn’t just say that,¨ the younger handsomer version of Sophie’s school principal responded authoritatively.

  Sophie made her way around the crouched Maseke, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. There she found four men in total, dressed in uniform regalia similar to that which LEs at the school wore, dark blue well-fitting pants and jackets made of thin but strong lightweight material, and military grade boots on their feet.

  ¨Your secret is safe with me,¨ a third man said, resting his hand lightly on Jan’s shoulder. ¨Though I can’t say I’m surprised. You've been sniffing around her skirts for far too long.¨

  ¨Oh shut up!¨ Jan shoved his comrade playfully. Sophie couldn’t reconcile this young, happy and playful side of Principal Sanguine with the dark, hooded, and shrivelled up shadow of a man she knew.

  ¨Your father will be pissed! You know how much he dislikes his foster daughter!¨ The fourth guy put in.

  ¨I never did understand why your parents adopted her, yet they hate everything abo
ut her,¨ the third one said.

  ¨For politics,¨ Jan answered. ¨All for politics.¨

  When the images began evaporating again, Sophie wasted no time in proceeding into the next room.

  ¨..Marry me, Maseke. Marry me and the Realm will be forced to leave you alone,¨ Jan was saying ardently, holding Boke's mother against him, her face buried in his chest.

  ¨Is that why you wish to marry me,¨ Maseke asked.

  ¨Of course not. I love you. You know I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world. I’ll do anything for you.¨

  This exchange of love proclamations went on for a while, and Sophie, growing bored and a little uncomfortable, stepped into another room.

  Only she froze midway through the door, when she heard a voice she hadn’t expected.

  Chapter 32

  ¨Maseke, you know we are grateful that you helped us run and promised to take the whole blame of the virus should the time come. However, we can't help you run away. We are not strong enough to hide our trail,¨ Lachlan Leighton said.

  Dad? Sophie half whispered to herself in shock.

  Maseke was crouched in her walk-in closet, appearing to be speaking into one of its lower drawers in a hushed tone.

  Curiosity had Sophie edging closer, and she spied the smoky images of her much younger parents in an open drawer.

  Were her parents involved with the virus? But if Klaus' mother had been in Boke's memory before, surely she’d seen this. She knew her parents were involved. Why hadn't she exposed them?

  ¨They’d know it was us, Masi, and capture us. It won’t matter if they never prove our involvement with the virus. We’d still have committed an offence in aiding a criminal, and our daughter is barely a year old..¨

  ¨What about mine, Shi?¨ Maseke countered in a harsh whisper, rubbing her distended tummy. ¨If it’s a girl, she’ll be alright. But a boy- he’ll never be safe!¨

  ¨I know, Maseke,¨ Sophie’s mother was crying now. ¨But I don’t know how we can help without putting our own child at risk too.¨

 

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