The Apprentice Witch

by James Nicol

  ‘I don’t think there is any need for that at this point, certainly not this late.’ She stood up, hands planted firm on her hips. ‘It might be best to let everyone know not to go too deep into the Great Wood for now, until we have had a chance to investigate further. Can you arrange that, Mayor Belcher?’

  ‘I’ll ensure notices go up tomorrow.’ He busied himself scribbling frantically into his little black notebook.

  ‘We’ll carry out some further investigations after the Flaxsham Parade. Speaking of which, we need to get back to our preparations, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘Oh, of course not. I’ll let you ladies get back to your work. See you later, Gimma, poppet!’ Mayor Belcher waved as he left the store, Mr Turvy following closely behind. He cast several anxious glances back at Arianwyn.

  ‘Girls, I’m just going to get something from the car!’ Miss Delafield called and disappeared out into Kettle Lane behind the mayor and Mr Turvy.

  Arianwyn quickly took hold of Gimma’s arm and pulled her close. ‘Do you think that’s from the rift?’ Her heart raced suddenly.

  ‘What?’ Gimma shrugged her away. ‘Don’t be daft, Wyn. It was nothing.’

  ‘What?’ Arianwyn gasped.

  ‘It was a tiny little rift, barely anything there at all.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But what?’ Gimma hissed. She glanced over her shoulder to check Miss Delafield was still distracted outside.

  ‘I think something came through, Gimma. Through the rift, from the void.’

  ‘Like what?’ Gimma sounded genuinely shocked at the suggestion.

  Arianwyn couldn’t quite believe her ears – was Gimma so blind or dumb? ‘Like a dark spirit! I thought I saw something. Something just like Mr Turvy described.’

  Gimma grabbed Arianwyn’s arm a little too roughly. ‘You didn’t see anything, OK? I think you’re just confused, that’s all.’ Her fingers squeezed a little tighter. Arianwyn winced. She stared at Gimma; her eyes were steely and shone brilliantly.

  ‘Everything all right in here, girls?’ Miss Delafield called as she came back through the door.

  ‘Fine!’ Gimma called, her voice all light and cheerfulness again.

  Arianwyn glanced down at the angry red mark on her arm, already blossoming into a yellow bruise.

  Arianwyn couldn’t sleep that night. Mr Turvy’s words rang in her ears and Gimma’s suddenly odd behaviour worried at her as she turned this way and that. The knot in her stomach grew tighter and tighter. When she did doze she dreamt of dark shapes stirring in the trees, tall and monstrous, faceless creatures that watched and waited. And always there was her glyph, terrifying and cold.

  As soon as it grew light she left the store and ran to the Blue Ox. She was grateful to see Aunt Grace by the front door as she arrived, taking a basket of bread from the baker’s boy. ‘Arianwyn!’ she called brightly. ‘Everything OK?’

  ‘Could I use the phone, please?’Arianwyn said.

  ‘Of course, love. Help yourself.’

  She hopped across the freshly mopped floors, glistening and slick, to the little corridor between the bar and the kitchen. She picked up the receiver and dialled the number of the bookstore.

  ‘Hello!’ Her grandmother’s voice was expectant, urgent.

  ‘Grandmother!’ Arianwyn said, and suddenly she was crying, the sound of her grandmother’s voice making her feel homesick and lonely, which she hadn’t felt in months and months.

  ‘Arianwyn?’

  ‘Yes!’ Her voiced cracked.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Grandmother said, ‘It’s so early!’

  ‘I . . .’ Could she tell her grandmother about the rift and Gimma? She couldn’t be sure that whatever Mr Turvy had seen was truly anything to do with Gimma’s rift. She was suddenly uncertain.

  ‘I was just missing you, that’s all.’

  ‘Really?’ Grandmother asked. She was clearly not convinced. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nothing, just a local saw something odd in the woods and I think I scared myself. I’m fine. Really fine.’ She swallowed, her voice catching again.

  ‘What sort of thing?’ Grandmother’s voice was urgent, alert.

  ‘Honestly, it’s nothing. Just some crazy old chap from town.’

  The line went suddenly quiet. Arianwyn could only hear her grandmother’s breathing. Then grandmother was talking hurriedly, urgently: ‘Stay away from the woods, Arianwyn. Promise me. Until it’s checked out.’

  ‘Of course,’Arianwyn answered.

  There was a long moment’s silence. The telephone line crackled. ‘Grandmother?’ Arianwyn asked, ‘Are you still there?’

  ‘Yes, yes I am. Do you want me to come? You only have to say . . .’ Her voice sounded distracted and far away, as though she wasn’t fully paying attention.

  ‘You sound busy. I’d better let you go,’ Arianwyn said. She could feel her throat tighten and tears threaten. Her vision blurred for a second.

  ‘I love you!’ Grandmother’s voice was bright and cheery but it masked something else, something worrying, threatening.

  ‘I love you too. Bye!’ Arianwyn said quickly and before she put the receiver down she heard the click as Grandmother hung up at the other end.

  ‘Everything all right, Wyn?’ It was Salle, standing at the end of the corridor by the kitchen door.

  ‘Yes, fine!’Arianwyn lied.

  Salle stared at her. ‘Are you going to go and look for the creature Mr Turvy saw in the wood? Can I come?’

  Arianwyn, in no mood to start a conversation about it and feeling bruised and muddled from the conversation with Grandmother, snapped before she had time to think. ‘Oh just leave it, Salle, will you. It’s nothing. Just some doddery old man!’

  Salle took a step forwards, she opened her mouth to say something, but Arianwyn didn’t want to draw her into this mess. ‘I have to go,’Arianwyn mumbled and turned and marched as quickly as she could from the Blue Ox. She ignored Aunt Grace on her way through the bar and Uncle Mat, who was busy washing the windows. She walked as quickly as she could across the square, down Kettle Lane and back to the store.

  She felt quite alone.

  As with all magic, charms will degenerate over time, in most cases this can simply be a weakening of the magic and the potency of the charm. In rare cases, though, the charm can start to reverse its magic, turning dark and causing all manner of related problems. Charms should be checked regularly to ensure this does not occur.

  THE APPRENTICE WITCH’S HANDBOOK

  Chapter 31

  A PARADE OF WITCHES

  s Arianwyn, Gimma and Salle emerged on to Flaxsham market square they were nearly swallowed up by the huge crowd of people.

  ‘Where is it you need to meet Miss Delafield?’ Salle called over the noise.

  Gimma ignored her. ‘Where are we meeting Miss Delafield,Wyn?’ she asked, as though Salle hadn’t just spoken. Salle pulled a face behind Gimma’s back.

  Arianwyn was a little frustrated. Gimma seemed unable – or unwilling – to get along with Salle.

  ‘Near the courthouse. Do you know where that is, Salle?’Arianwyn asked.

  Salle glared at Gimma and then said, ‘Yes it’s just over there!’ She pointed to a grand-looking building, all warm golden-coloured stone with high windows. Its balcony was draped in swags of cloth in the colours of the flags of Hylund and the Four Kingdoms.

  They were shoved and jostled as witches, cadets, police officers and row upon row of schoolchildren filed past. There seemed to be no order to anything at all.

  Gimma squealed at the spectacle. ‘Amazing!’

  ‘GIRLS!’ A loud voice boomed above the bustling noise of the market square.

  Spinning round, Arianwyn scanned the nearby faces.

  ‘Girls! Over here!’

  A flash of bright red hair caught Arianwyn’s eye. Miss Delafield towered over everyone around her; she was waving frantically at them. ‘Come on, come on!’

  Squeezing and weaving in and out
of the mass of people, Arianwyn, Gimma and Salle made their way towards Miss Delafield. They emerged into a space that had been partly roped off and was full of witches of all ages, shapes and sizes – all navy and bright silver stars. Arianwyn glanced forlornly at her bronze moon brooch. There must have been about fifty witches altogether, with more arriving each second.

  ‘Ah, there you are. Morning, Salle! Now, we’re at the head of the procession today!’ Miss Delafield puffed up with pride. ‘And there is a film crew here from Kingsport apparently, for the Central News Programme!’ Her cheeks flushed a colour almost as fiery as her hair.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ Gimma shrieked again and jumped on the spot, clapping her hands together. A few older witches nearby cast her sideways glances.

  ‘I need to go and check my hair!’ Gimma said urgently. ‘Do you know if there’s a bathroom somewhere nearby?’ she rifled through her little beaded purse, pulling out a small comb and mirror. Arianwyn was amazed she managed to cram so much unessential stuff in there.

  ‘What?’ Arianwyn asked. ‘Are you crazy? The parade is about to start any second. You can’t just go off now.’

  Gimma was paying no attention at all. ‘Come with me, come on!’

  ‘Five minutes, everybody!’ Miss Delafield boomed through her megaphone.

  ‘I’ll be right back!’ And just like that Gimma was swallowed up into the crowd of witches.

  ‘Oh, boil it!’Arianwyn hissed.

  ‘I have to go,’ Salle said reluctantly. ‘I’ll be late for my audition and it was good of Mr Baxter to see me again.’ She looked pale and kept checking her coat buttons every few seconds.

  ‘You’ll be great, I’m sure!’ Arianwyn replied. She was so excited for Salle. She pulled her into a tight hug. ‘Good luck!’ she said.

  Salle gulped and smiled, ‘Thanks, Wyn! I’ll meet you back here at one!’ She turned to go.

  ‘Salle. Wait!’Arianwyn shouted, suddenly remembering the object in the bottom of her pocket.

  ‘Here, take this, for luck!’ She pressed a small charm into Salle’s cool, shaking hand.

  ‘Oh,Wyn! For me?’ Salle stared down at the small glass orb that held tiny pale-green thyme leaves, a dark pala seed and a small polished lump of blood-red veren stone.

  ‘It’s a really old charm for luck, I found it in the handbook.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ Salle gave her a quick hug and disappeared into the crowd.

  Arianwyn sighed contentedly and turned back to the crowd of waiting witches. Miss Delafield was entirely distracted organizing everyone. ‘No, no, NO!’ Miss Delafield wailed, ‘I’ve already told you, Mrs Barnaby – stand to the left of Elder Moorcroft, please!’Two witches shuffled places.

  ‘Excuse me, aren’t you Arianwyn Gribble?’ a quiet voice asked.

  Arianwyn turned. A girl about her age was smiling at her. She was smart and well turned out in her uniform. Her star was bright against the dark material of her coat. She seemed very familiar.

  ‘Do I know you?’Arianwyn asked

  The girl blushed a little. ‘I’m Polly Walden, we had the same evaluation date, back in Kingsport.’ The girl tossed her long dark hair across her shoulder and gave a small smile. ‘And I’m a friend . . . was a friend . . . of Gimma Alverston.’

  The penny dropped, with a bang!

  She was one of Gimma’s little gang. Arianwyn recoiled slightly, folding her arms across her chest. She stared at the girl.

  ‘I saw you with Gimma just now. I didn’t know you two were—’

  ‘Friends?’ Arianwyn asked, her voice sharp. Was it such a surprise that the two of them could have become friends?

  The girl nodded and blushed again. ‘Sorry, I thought Gimma had been stationed in Kingsport. She was always going on about how she had a post to go to and blah blah blah.’ She waved her hands theatrically above her head.

  ‘No,’ Arianwyn said simply. ‘She’s visiting Lull, which is where I’m stationed.’

  ‘Well, good luck with that.’ The girl grinned. ‘Just a word to the wise: don’t let her do any magic if you know what’s good for you. She’s hopeless.’

  ‘What?’Arianwyn asked, stepping closer, assuming she had misunderstood.

  Polly grabbed her hand and hissed loudly into Arianwyn’s ear, ‘Gimma is utterly useless when it comes to spells.’

  ‘But—’Arianwyn tried to respond.

  ‘She only passed her evaluation because of who her parents are and because we all helped her through instruction and tests. She can barely summon a basic spell orb!’

  Arianwyn suddenly pictured Gimma running from the house after the bogglin, brandishing the broom. The day in the wood with the banishing glyph and her tiny spell orbs with their weak light.

  ‘I’d better go,’ Polly said, drawing away from Arianwyn and glancing over her shoulder. ‘But I thought you should know.’

  Twisting, Arianwyn could see Gimma weaving in and out of the waiting witches. She turned back to Polly, to ask more, but the girl had already gone.

  ‘Everything OK, Wyn?’ Gimma asked as she reached her. She beamed as usual.

  Arianwyn stared into her face. She didn’t know what she felt. Anger? Hurt? Had it all been another of Gimma’s cruel tricks, one in the long line of many? Had she been using Arianwyn? Masking her own failings behind somebody more competent and hoping nobody would notice? How had she been so short-sighted?

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Gimma asked. ‘Who was it you were talking to?’

  Arianwyn looked her squarely in the eyes. ‘It was Polly Walden.’ She let the words hang in the air for a few seconds and watched as Gimma’s perfect smile slipped slowly from her face.

  ‘What did she have to say?’ Gimma’s voice was bright but forced. ‘I haven’t seen Polly in months.’

  ‘I think you already know,’Arianwyn said sadly.

  The small battalion of witches shifted, anxious to move out across the market square. The band struck up a cheerful tune. Gimma stared at Arianwyn and her mouth opened as if she was about to respond, but just at that moment Miss Delafield’s voice echoed out across the square. ‘Right, ladies, let’s not make a colossal hash of this, shall we? On my mark please, Miss Gribble, Miss Alverston. One. Two. And go!’

  The long line of witches started to move slowly out across the market square. All around the edge people watched, cheered and waved small bright flags this way and that. For a few moments they marched on in silence. Arianwyn stared straight ahead, watching the smiling faces of the crowd and the bright bunting fluttering in the breeze.

  ‘Arianwyn,’ Gimma hissed loudly, trying to get her attention. Arianwyn ignored her and picked up the pace.

  ‘Why are you being like this?’ Gimma demanded. She stumbled, missing a turn and colliding with one of the witches behind her. She scrambled to catch up with Arianwyn again.

  Arianwyn kept her eyes focused on Miss Delafield and kept marching. ‘You lied to me! You lied about being able to use magic properly. Polly told me,’ she hissed at Gimma.

  ‘And you believed her?’ Gimma spat. ‘Thanks a lot!’

  ‘Is it a lie?’ Arianwyn paused for just a second, causing the entire line to shudder to a halt. Elder Moorcroft, who was right behind her, stood on her heel. ‘Oh, sorry!’ she muttered.

  Miss Delafield cast a stern glance over her shoulder. Arianwyn lurched forwards quickly, dragging Gimma along with her.

  ‘I can cast spells. I’m not stupid, Arianwyn!’ Gimma blurted suddenly in a nervous hurry.

  ‘You need to tell someone. You ought to tell Miss Delafield.’

  ‘Why? So they can chalk this up as another failure? I don’t think so!’ Gimma looked away into the crowd of happy people. They all called and cheered as the witches marched past. The band played on, one tune sliding into the next.

  ‘Gimma, I want to help. I do understand what it’s like,’Arianwyn said after a while.

  ‘You have no idea!’ Gimma hissed. ‘Not one! Perfect Arianwyn, who can never do anything w
rong!’

  Arianwyn laughed out loud. ‘Don’t be ridiculous; I’m always getting things wrong, Gimma. You know I do!’ She prodded at her coat and the moon brooch.

  ‘But it’s different for you because it always seems to work out in the end, doesn’t it?’ That was when Gimma’s voice broke and Arianwyn saw fat tears welling around her eyes. Gimma brushed at them angrily.

  They had turned again and were heading now for the far corner of the market square.

  ‘Not always, no.’ Arianwyn replied. She reached out to take Gimma’s hand again. ‘I do understand. But if this is why you lost your post in Kingsport—’

  ‘Girls! What on earth is going on back there?’ Miss Delafield suddenly snapped her head round and glared at them both. Even so, she kept in step with the band as they marched past the courthouse. There was a loud cheer from a group of schoolchildren. ‘Pay attention, for pity’s sake!’

  They marched on for a few more metres without speaking. Until Gimma paused and turned to Arianwyn. ‘I did not lose my post in Kingsport!’ Gimma hissed through gritted teeth. ‘I’m taking a break. That’s all!’ Tears started to trickle down her cheeks. She pulled out a handkerchief and turned away.

  The line collapsed around them once more. Miss Delafield turned and gave a loud moan and threw her hands up in despair.

  Arianwyn reached out to Gimma, but she turned on her heels and ran off, sobbing.

  Arianwyn hesitated for a moment. Should she just let her go? She watched as Gimma crashed headlong into another witch.

  ‘Watch where you’re going!’

  Arianwyn sighed. She couldn’t let her go off on her own, upset. ‘Gimma!’ Arianwyn called and started to follow her. But a few more steps and Gimma quickly disappeared in the confusion of parading witches.

  She searched down alleyways and in courtyards but it was as though Gimma had never existed. There was no sign of her anywhere.

  Glancing at her watch, Arianwyn saw it was nearly one o’clock. She’d been searching for more than an hour already.