The Apprentice Witch

by James Nicol

  Årdra: fire, energy, defence.

  And then she saw it, hanging there, blooming in her mind amongst the other glyphs.

  Not now! Arianwyn thought and tried to blink it away.

  It was an impossible glyph. One that didn’t really exist except in her imagination. Its shape was strange and yet familiar. She could feel its power pulling on the flow of magic that lingered around the square. She tried not to focus on it, but it was larger and bolder than the other four, although it didn’t glow in the same way. It was dark and seemed to suck light towards it.

  Stop it!

  This hadn’t happened for ages. Typical that it should happen today of all days.

  The last time she had seen it this clearly it had ended so badly . . . no, she wouldn’t think about that now.

  She had kept it a secret, telling nobody, not even Grandmother. And yet something drew her to the strangeness of its shape, and before she knew what she was doing or why, she was reaching towards it with her mind.

  It bristled with energy. But it felt cool, distant. Not warm and vibrant like the real glyphs.

  Arianwyn felt the connection and now it was too late to stop. It felt as though all the energy nearby was suddenly doubled and rushing towards her, slamming into her with a jolt.

  Her eyes flew open and she stumbled back on the platform. The gloomy day seemed somehow darker than it had only seconds ago. The shadows thicker, blacker. The evaluation gauge whirred and then several loud popping sounds echoed around the courtyard. The lights in the offices blinked out. The watchers gasped. Miss Newam gave a small cry of dismay as a thin column of smoke twisted steadily from the evaluation gauge.

  ‘Is it broken?’ Colin asked, peering over the top of the smoking device.

  Miss Newam glared at him. ‘No . . . I don’t think so. A power surge has interrupted the recording, that’s all!’ She flicked switches, twisted dials.

  Nothing!

  Arianwyn’s heart quickened. What had just happened? She glanced down at her hands. Tiny bright sparks of energy flew from her palms and fingertips. The dizzy sensation passed over her again and she struggled to focus.

  Miss Newam repeated her frantic switch flicking and this time the ribbon of paper unwound slowly from the slot at the base of the gauge. She tugged it free and held it so that the pale light caught the reading. A moment’s hesitation played across the woman’s features and then a small look of triumph replaced it as she turned back to Arianwyn.

  ‘I regret to inform you, Miss Gribble, that your result is “ungraded”.’ She seemed unable to hide the joy in her voice.

  There was a gasp from someone in the audience, followed by excited whispering.

  Miss Newam thrust the recording forward for Arianwyn to see. She took it with shaking hands, thankful that the sparks had now vanished. It was full of small markings and a squiggling red line. It meant nothing to her.

  She was sure she was going to be sick; she could feel every pair of eyes in the courtyard on her. All she wanted to do was run, run away as fast as she could. But she couldn’t move.

  ‘I think we shall take a moment just to deal with this,’ the director said in a mock cheery voice and he indicated for Arianwyn and Miss Newam to follow him. Colin trailed after them, the evaluation gauge still smoking in his arms.

  As they crossed the courtyard Arianwyn saw someone moving at the back of the watchers: a tall, elegant figure draped in a dark coat, with a bright sunshine-yellow shawl flicking in the wind, her face partly hidden under a large-brimmed hat.

  Grandmother!

  Arianwyn’s heart sank through the floor. She had been here the whole time, had witnessed everything. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse!

  ‘Director Coot!’ Her grandmother stepped out of the crowd. ‘Might I have a word, please?’

  Arianwyn looked away. Her cheeks felt as though they were alight. She sensed every pair of eyes in the courtyard shift back and forth between her grandmother and the director.

  ‘Elder Stronelli, what an . . . honour.’ The director glanced round at Miss Newam, Colin and Arianwyn, as if unsure exactly how to proceed. But there was no way Grandmother was going to take no for an answer. She scowled at the director, a look that could turn Arianwyn’s blood to ice.

  ‘It would be my great pleasure, of course.’ He smiled.

  The director led them into a small office off the courtyard. As the door clicked shut the director turned to Miss Newam. ‘Well?’ he demanded. ‘What is this all about? I’ve been director here for twenty years now and never seen an apprentice fail an evaluation test like this before. What on earth is going on?’

  Arianwyn could feel her legs wobbling, suddenly unable to hold her up. She steadied herself against the wall, still unable to meet her grandmother’s gaze. She really thought she might be sick.

  Miss Newam stepped forwards, wafting the reading from the gauge. ‘Ungraded means that the evaluation device has been unsuccessful in picking up a required level of energy.’

  ‘And that means?’ the director pressed, his cheeks red, his eyes wide.

  ‘It means!’ Miss Newam snapped and then, clearly thinking better of it, said more calmly, ‘It means, Director Coot, that whilst Miss Gribble should be able to perform the majority of simple tasks, she is unlikely to be able to deal with more specialized problems, or ever develop beyond basic spell craft.’

  Arianwyn felt everything slowly start to slip away from her – all she had ever hoped for, all she had ever wanted to do.

  ‘But what about the power surge?’ Colin asked. ‘That might have affected the reading.’

  ‘The evaluation gauge got a clear reading before the surge,’ Miss Newam replied shortly.

  No, this couldn’t be happening, there had to have been some sort of mistake.

  ‘Can’t we test her again?’ Director Coot asked. Arianwyn felt a flutter of hope.

  ‘That’s quite out of the question: we have a sufficient reading.’ Miss Newam moved to stand in front of the director and there was a hurried whispered conversation which came to an abrupt halt when Grandmother coughed loudly.

  ‘Perhaps, Director Coot, we might have our discussion now?’ She glanced at Miss Newam. ‘In private?’

  It was not a request.

  ‘Very well,’ the director said, fanning his red face with a folder.

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ Miss Newam protested. ‘The council has no authority in these matters—’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Newam!’ the director said firmly. Then in a softer voice, ‘Perhaps you would all be so good as to wait outside for a few moments, please?’

  Arianwyn followed Miss Newam and Colin out into the dim corridor and the door shut gently behind them. The corridor rang with silence.

  A few minutes later Grandmother emerged. Director Coot followed, his stumpy legs struggling to keep up with the older woman’s elegant stride down the corridor.

  ‘Well, come along then,’ he barked at Arianwyn, Colin and Miss Newam. ‘Back to the courtyard, if you please!’

  Outside, everyone had returned to the platform. The other witches scowled at Arianwyn as she rejoined the end of the line. Rain still fell steadily and those few people who had bothered to remain were looking decidedly soggy. Arianwyn had no idea what to expect next. She risked a quick glance at her grandmother, who stood still and calm at the back of the crowd.

  Colin stood shivering to one side of the platform. He gave Arianwyn a cheery thumbs-up but she couldn’t meet his beaming smile. Why was he being so nice?

  Miss Newam and Director Coot were embroiled in a furious whispered conversation. Miss Newam pointed angrily at the director, who turned puce and responded in very hushed but definite tones.

  After a few moments, the director seemed to win the silent argument. Slowly they started to make their way along the line onstage, pinning brilliant silver stars to the coats of all the other witches.

  Arianwyn, terrified of what would happen when they reached her, stared straight
ahead. She could feel everyone else just waiting for her turn, too.

  ‘Ah, Miss Gribble,’ beamed the director as they finally reached her. ‘Despite your poor result this doesn’t completely prevent you from becoming a fully fledged witch at some point . . .’

  The director held out his hand.

  Miss Newam placed a small velvet box into it, just like she had for all the other witches. She smiled, but it looked wrong on her pinched face. Was this some cruel joke? Had there been a mistake? A thousand thoughts flashed through Arianwyn’s mind.

  The director fiddled with the clasp and then he lifted his hand up to pin something on to Arianwyn’s coat. There was a halting, stunned round of applause. Arianwyn glanced down. There was no bright silver star pinned to her coat, just a dull bronze disc.

  Chapter 3

  HEADING HOME

  he bronze brooch nestled against the dark of Arianwyn’s coat. What had just happened?

  The director turned to the waiting crowd.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, despite her ungraded evaluation, we are delighted to award Miss Gribble the honour of the moon brooch. The moon brooch is awarded to an apprentice witch who displays potential but has not yet reached the full maturity of her powers. The Civil Witchcraft Authority is under immense pressure and we have a position that would have remained vacant otherwise.’

  Arianwyn’s cheeks burnt. What had happened in that office? She looked over at her grandmother again, but her face was hidden in shadow.

  What had she done?

  There was a faltering ripple of applause, dying as quickly as it started. Miss Newam moved a little closer and spoke to Arianwyn directly, ‘Evidently the director cares more for keeping on the good side of the Council of Elders than he does in procedure and protocol.’ Miss Newam threw a sour look in grandmother’s direction and then continued. ‘There is a small town, just a large village really, a back-of-beyond sort of place, you know. I am sure they can be persuaded to take you on as an apprentice witch. You’ll get on famously there. I have no doubt.’ She spat the last words and her eyes flashed with malice as she jabbed the moon brooch with a spindly finger.

  Arianwyn looked across at her grandmother. Her face was as white as bone and the rain on her cheeks looked just like tears.

  Arianwyn huddled under an umbrella outside the Civil Witchcraft Authority buildings. She pretended to be reading a poster entitled ‘Everyday Spirit Creature Identification for You & Me’, but secretly she watched as the newly qualified witches were whisked away by families and friends to celebrate with fancy lunches or rich afternoon teas at Kingsport’s finest hotels and restaurants. Grandmother had stopped to talk with an old friend inside. The gutters ran heavy with water, overflowing on to the pavement.

  She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned to see Colin. He clutched a large brown envelope, ‘Congratulations!’ he said, indicating Arianwyn’s badge.

  ‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, trying desperately to hide it beneath the collar of her coat.

  ‘Look, I know this isn’t the result you were hoping for, but at least you’ve been given an assignment!’ He smiled cheerfully and held out the envelope. ‘And,’ he whispered. ‘You can request a re-evaluation in six months; the forms are inside.’ He shook the envelope encouragingly.

  Arianwyn could see he was trying desperately to be helpful but she just couldn’t stop herself. She snatched the envelope from Colin’s hand. ‘That’s wonderful! I’m overjoyed. No doubt being sent to the middle-of-nowhere’s-next-door-neighbour, as an apprentice witch, will be a real hoot! Have you any idea how humiliating this all is?’

  Colin stepped back quickly, obviously stung by her words, and started to mumble an apology.

  ‘I think I’d rather just be on my own.’ Arianwyn turned away from him and came face to face with her grandmother. The old woman’s eyes were narrow, her lips a thin line. Arianwyn knew that look. She was in trouble. She heard Colin’s footsteps retreating into the building.

  Sighing, she looked away, avoiding Grandmother’s angry stare.

  ‘Get in!’ Grandmother said, her voice quiet and tired. She gestured to a smart Kingsport taxi that waited at the kerb. Gleaming black, its bright lights shone in the gloom.

  Inside, Grandmother issued the address and snapped shut the glass window that separated them from the driver. The taxi pulled away and the Civil Witchcraft building was swallowed up by the city and the dank afternoon gloom.

  Arianwyn picked nervously at her soggy dress. Grandmother fidgeted with her gloves. They glanced at each other, accusing, expectant. The taxi turned on to the Royal Circle and straight into the middle of a monstrous traffic jam. Muffled honks and toots from other cars reached them. The soft golden light of the Royal Palace shone through the rain.

  ‘Say it! I know what you’re thinking!’ Arianwyn burst out, unable to wait a moment longer for the lecture she knew was coming.

  ‘What do you want me to say?’ Grandmother asked, her voice steady and calm.

  ‘Something . . . anything! About this!’ She pulled at the badge. ‘Or the evaluation. Or about how humiliated or angry you are, how I’ve let you down . . .’ Arianwyn’s voice broke, but she was determined not to cry. ‘Or how about what you said to the director in that office?’

  Grandmother reached for Arianwyn’s hand. ‘I had to. It was for the best.’

  Arianwyn snatched her hand away and scowled. ‘Rubbish. You just didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of your friends.’

  ‘Behaving like a spoilt child is not going to help the situation.’ Grandmother warned, her voice rising slightly.

  ‘What? But I haven’t—’

  ‘And neither was picking on that poor young man at the C. W. A. No matter how upset you are, that’s no excuse for being rude to others,’ grandmother continued.

  ‘I can’t believe this,’Arianwyn mumbled.

  Grandmother reached out her hand again, ‘Perhaps it was too soon to ask for your evaluation. Most witches wouldn’t end their apprenticeship until they were seventeen, in my day.’

  ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Grandma, it’s the modern world, not a hundred years ago. I’m ready to help. I want to help now! There’s so much going on in the world, which you might be aware of if you ventured out from the bookstore more than twice a year!’ She regretted the words as soon as she said them.

  ‘Now you listen to me!’ Grandmother pointed a finger in warning as she spoke. Arianwyn knew she had gone too far. ‘Despite my advanced years, I was not actually alive a hundred years ago and I am well aware of what is going on beyond the walls of the bookstore, maybe even more than you think. Perhaps it is too soon to end your apprenticeship if you can’t behave like an adult. But . . .’ She paused, searching for her next words. ‘If this was some sort of attempt to impress your father, then you have no business being a witch.’

  The sudden mention of her father startled Arianwyn more than the jolt from the evaluation gauge had. She could almost feel the rough green uniform under her hands as she clung to her father on the docks in Kingsport, before he left to join his unit. ‘It’ll not be for long, love,’ he had said, blinking back his own tears. That had been ten years ago and she had only seen him a handful of times since. A few days’ leave here or there. Sporadic letters and even rarer phone calls from exotic-sounding places thousands of miles away. And last time she had heard from him he was heading for the border towns of Veersland to protect the Veerish people against the Urisian attacks that had been growing more and more frequent and terrible.

  ‘That’s not it,’ Arianwyn said defiantly, but it felt like a lie. ‘I put my heart into this!’

  ‘Well, perhaps that’s the problem, then. You should have been thinking with your head.’

  Arianwyn sat in silence, glowering.

  The taxi moved again, clearing the traffic and turning off the Royal Circle. They sat for a few more minutes in rumbling silence, the only sound the engine and other motorcars on the street.

  Eventual
ly the taxi came to a halt outside Stronelli’s Bookstore, Grandmother’s bookshop and the place Arianwyn had called home since her mother had died and her father, drowning in his own grief, had returned to the army.

  Chapter 4

  THE UNWANTED GIFT

  rianwyn jumped out of the taxi and ran straight to the door. She fumbled for the key in her pocket, wanting to get inside and away from her grandmother as quickly as possible. The shop was in darkness and a sign had been placed in the window of the door: ‘Closed for family celebrations’.

  Arianwyn felt her heart sink again.

  As she pushed the door open, a charm sang out through the store, and Arianwyn felt a wave of magic as the six bells on bright red ribbons danced over-head. An ancient Grunnean charm against dark magic. Charms had been her grandmother’s speciality, before she had all but given up magic to look after Arianwyn, buying this bookstore and stepping back from her official duties on the Council of Elders.

  Arianwyn walked briskly through the dark shop. She knew the place so well she could move between the towering bookcases blindfolded, negotiating precarious stacks of books piled on the dark floorboards and rugs.

  The bells on the door rang again and the lights snapped on. ‘Shall we carry on our argument down here or would you rather go upstairs and have a cup of tea?’ Grandmother asked, walking slowly to the back of the shop and her huge desk, also piled high with books. ‘Well, we can’t carry on like this,’ she said, her voice softening.

  ‘Perhaps you should tell me what you said to Director Coot,’Arianwyn said. ‘You made him give me that position, didn’t you?’

  Grandmother started to rearrange the pile of paperwork on her desk, humming to herself.

  ‘Grandma!’ Arianwyn pushed. ‘What did you say to him?’

  There was another long moment of silence, and then Grandmother sighed and looked up at Arianwyn. Her face was sad, careworn and pale in the light from overhead. Her hair was damp and hung in loose strands round her face.