A Witch's Magic

by N. E. Conneely

  I sucked in a breath as silence descended upon the table. The deflection might put an end to this issue today, but if these witches and others truly believed I was incapable of fulfilling the role of premier, it would only delay their protest.

  “I have no complaint against the minister.” For the first time, there were flickers of doubt in Isadora’s eyes. “I know of nothing in our laws that gives you the ability to refuse our request, made through a minister or not.”

  “I am required to hear your complaint. Not facilitate it.” Those words were clipped. “I have heard and do not agree, but I am not unreasonable.”

  The flicker of hope I had been nursing that I wouldn’t have to participate in the Trial by Magic died. Though, if this was done outside the truly proper channels, at least as far as the paperwork was concerned, maybe we would be able to set more parameters on the challenge.

  “Now we can negotiate.” Isadora smirked.

  Ethel scooted a piece of paper in front of her and uncapped a pen. A spell brushed across my senses as the pen stood up and wrote the date into the corner of the page. Ethel dictated to it, creating a document to amend the incorrect paperwork to be of the right type and to include certain accommodations. When she got to that part, she paused and recapped the pen.

  “Rather than the unlimited Trial by Magic you proposed, I suggest something more elegant and more focused. A Test of Power.” Ethel paused. “The test will take place in front of whoever wishes to attend. If we are to do this, it will be the only time you can request such a test from Ms. Oaks. Will that satisfy?”

  Isadora snorted. “An untutored child could pass the Test of Power. Trial by Magic with one of us.”

  I swallowed, trying to ease the tightness in my throat.

  Ethel locked eyes with Isadora. “To magical exhaustion. No killing, maiming, or spells designed to cause any type of lasting injury. You will both have the ability to end the match at any point, and will be personally shielded by two ministers whose names will be selected at random.”

  “You coddle her,” Isadora said, sneering. “Remove the rules about any type of injury and replace them with serious injury. Her parents are both ministers and should be excluded from protecting either of us.”

  I sat there as they negotiated the parameters of a fight I wasn’t sure I was prepared to wage. I was still healing, and I still had vulnerabilities, ones I didn’t have before. But being premier was more than a desk job to me. It was an opportunity to help witches and give them more freedom to live and work away from their clan.

  Ethel had picked me to be her successor, but she had never promised it would be an easy path. If I truly want to be premier, this would only be the first of many tests, and likely one of the easiest. Well, not that it was going to be easy, but a fight was relatively simple compared to mediating clan disputes and trying to create fair policies.

  “Both her parents and your minister will be removed from the pool of potential protectors. The rule about no spells designed to cause any lasting harm stands.” Ethel said firmly.

  “Agreed.” Isadora raked her eyes across me. “That is, if your heir is willing to fight me.”

  Ignoring my trepidation, I nodded. “I’m ready.” I’d hoped to see uncertainty, or even a hint of concern about the upcoming fight, but Isadora simply closed her eyes and bowed her head.

  Ethel checked her watch. “Our closing ceremony is due to start in two hours. Plenty of time to refit the area for a Trial by Magic and spread the word. Isadora, I suggest you begin your preparations. Kathy, my assistant will remain with you to ensure clear communications.” Ethel lifted her hand, and a square woman stepped forward.

  Isadora and the rest of her group stood up. “We thank you for your just consideration of our petition.” Her eyes locked with mine. “I’ll see you in two hours.”

  They filed out, Kathy following closely. The door clicked shut behind them, and Ethel sighed. “You have my apologies. I was afraid if I didn’t grant their request they would cause more trouble.”

  “Likely so, but now I have a duel to prepare for.” I tried to keep my voice even, but I was more than a little displeased. Healed was different from ready for a duel, and no matter how polite Trial by Magic sounded, it would be a fight between Isadora and me.

  Ethel tapped her fingers on the desk. “It would be ideal if you won, but a good showing should be enough to convince any doubters that you still have magic and can do more than party tricks.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Ignoring my sarcasm, Ethel turned to address her remaining aid. “Bring Michelle’s parents to my sitting room.”

  Great. Now they could worry too. They’d been at my side for months now, and this was supposed to be the beginning of me standing on my own again—as a healed witch.

  “You’ll want to prepare. My suite will be best. No one will pester you.” Ethel moved surprisingly fast for a woman of her age and was halfway to the door. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Are you coming?”

  I hurried after her, not sure that I really had a choice.

  I took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. It did nothing to slow the rapid pace of my heart.

  From the stage wing, I could see the tightly packed crowed and Ethel approaching the podium. Opposite me, Isadora watched Ethel with a slight smirk, as if she already knew how this was going to end. I wished I shared her confidence. Instead, my palms were sweaty, and I kept fiddling with the wand sheath strapped to my leg. The elven bracelet I always wore was missing. Apparently, its ability to summon my wand to my hand gave me an unfair advantage.

  “Before this convention comes to an end, there is one piece of business that must be addressed.” Ethel paused and the crowd fell silent. Word of the trial must’ve spread, because I could feel the eagerness in the room. “Michelle Oaks and Isadora Baker will display their abilities in a Trial by Magic!”

  Ethel’s showmanship was paying off. The crowd had pressed forward, and whispers hastily passed back and forth. Taking advantage of the noise, Dad leaned close. “Remember, you don’t have the stamina to outlast someone. You need to hit hard and fast. End it before you can become fatigued.”

  Ethel turned toward the other stage wing. “In a fight to magical exhaustion, I present the challenger, Isadora of the Gos clan!”

  Isadora tilted her chin up and swaggered onto the stage.

  “And the challenged, Michelle Oaks of the Wapiti and Docga!”

  That was my cue. I strode onto the stage, hoping my carriage projected confidence.

  “Be careful,” Mom warned me.

  Already in view of the crowd, I didn’t respond. As I crossed the stage to stand next to Ethel, I made eye contact with the audience. I don’t know what I had hoped to see, but the eagerness was unnerving. They wanted to see this fight, whether because they viewed it as good sport or because they wanted to see me prove my magic, I couldn’t say. I could give the good showing Ethel had requested.

  Ethel levitated a crystal bowl next to the podium. “Two protectors will be selected at random for each participant. Ministers close to each witch have been removed from the pool.” Ethel stuck her hand in the bowl and pulled out two small cards. “Latasha Farrer of the Haedus and Ingrid Burch of the Kamelos will serve as Isadora’s protectors.”

  They were respected witches, perhaps a bit fond of tradition, but hopefully that would motivate them to be fair and honest. Ethel’s hand moved back to the bowl and I held my breath.

  Ethel read the cards. “Vera Allard of the Tructa and Kim Scotcher of the Aap will serve as Michelle’s protectors.”

  I released the breath I’d been holding. Perhaps not who I would’ve preferred, but from my dealings with them, I was sure they would do their job honestly.

  The four minsters made their way to the stage. Latasha and Ingrid went to Isadora. Vera smiled at me, and Kim bowed her head before they flanked me. I knew what came next, so I released most of my shields. The entire room filled wit
h a press of magic, little spells for perfecting makeup or covering a ketchup stain. Larger spells that helped make the convention accessible to the deaf or blind shone in bright gold shimmers coating the room.

  “The protectors will now link to their duelist’s pool of magic and create a skintight shield around them. If magic breaches the shield, the match will be paused until it can be restored.”

  Kim held out a hand. As soon as our fingers touched, I could feel their spell sliding through my mind and hooking into my well of power. Just as quickly, their presence was gone, but I could still feel the spell as a faint point of discomfort. That spell wasn’t normally there, and it was odd brushing against it when I reached for my power.

  I rebuilt my shields and added a little extra to the outer one. Ethel hadn’t prohibited mental attacks, so I wanted to be prepared. While I was focused inward, power flared across my skin. The magic raised the hairs on my arms as it formed a layer on my skin. A fraction of a second later, it had quieted down, but the press of the spell and the lack of sensation it created were constant reminders that I was fully encased.

  “Isadora, Michelle, take your places in the circle.”

  Ethel was undoubtedly speaking just as loudly as she had before, but for some reason, her voice sounded far away. I turned, and the stage behind me had been completely transformed.

  A spell had changed it from wood planking to something from one of those fight shows. The blue pad that covered the area was bordered by posts and ropes. A section was open, and Isadora was already taking her place on a yellow dot in one corner. I went to the opposite corner, marked with green.

  I took a steadying breath. I had a plan.

  “Draw wands.”

  Isadora’s arrogant smile fell away, replaced with cold eyes and determination.

  Tugging my wand out of the sheath, I ran through the spells I wanted to cast. If I could get off a spell first, I might be able to get ahead of Isadora. If not, I’d be seeing the exact extent of my magic reserves.

  A red orb floated to the center of the ring. “The match will begin when the orb turns green.”

  Looking past it, I focused on Isadora. She was my target.

  The orb turned green.

  I yanked my wand up. “Algiz.”

  As magical ropes fought to bring Isadora’s arms down to her sides, I was lifted into the air. Her wand dipped down, and my feet brushed the floor. At some point, I was coming down, and the mats didn’t look like they’d prevent injury. The pads might not be enough, but I could soften the wood under them. “Orzu.”

  Isadora flicked her wand upwards.

  I bit back a scream as I launched ten feet in the air. It didn’t matter if I was levitating, I had to do better. “Algiz.” This round of bindings had targets: her wand hand, eyes, and mouth.

  While she fought the magical ropes, I attacked the source of my levitation issue. This spell took more power, but I had hopes it would be worth it. “Esaz Sowil.”

  The spell snapped into place, blocked all outgoing magic. The levitation spell failed.

  I fell. The combination of the pads and softening spell absorbed the impact, and I managed to land on my feet.

  The ropes were trying their best to fulfill the task I’d set them, but Isadora kept struggling. They’d managed to cover her eyes and go across her mouth, but they still didn’t have full control of her wand.

  I started casting the next spell, but a surge of magic distracted me. The one way containment spell collapsed as ice formed around me. I was encased in inch thick ice. Narzel fart.

  Isadora shed the ropes and began to sketch runes in the air.

  Picturing the ice cracking and falling away from me, I pushed magic into the spell and prepared another. A ribbon of magic shot out of my wand as soon as it was free.

  It darted across the ring and destroyed Isadora’s runes.

  Hoping she was a witch who needed to see her target, I cast another spell. “Gebo.” A heavy fog coated the ring.

  A wall of flames surrounded me as it burned off the fog. So much for Isadora needing to see her target. The flames were easy enough to deal with. “Ansu Dagaz.”

  As the wall of flames extinguished, their absence triggered another spell. Before I could get a probe out, a containment bubble like the one I’d used on Isadora snapped shut around me.

  Tamping down the surge of panic, I got to work unmaking the spell. Partway through, my feet felt cold. Taking my attention away from unmaking the spell, I looked down to see the sphere filling with water. It hadn’t come over the top of my boots yet, but it wouldn’t be long.

  I went back to work on dismantling the containment spell. That would take care of the water problem, but the closer I got to unraveling the spell, the more quickly water filled the space. It was lapping against my chin when I undid the last bit of the shield spell. The sphere vanished, and the water flooded across the ring.

  Isadora wasn’t in her corner. I glanced around the ring twice before looking up.

  “Join me, if you can.” She lifted her wand to the sky.

  Afraid she would rain boulders down on me, I quickly cast a shield over my head.

  A ball of light appeared. I had to look away, trying to blink spots out of my eyes. A wall of air hit my back, throwing me forward. I landed on my hands and knees, but the pressure only intensified. As my arms shook, I formed a layer of magic between myself and the wall. The plan was to shove enough power into the spell that it pushed the wall of air away and I could get to my feet.

  My arms started to shake more. I gathered power, only now realizing how little I had left, and shoved it into the spell. It shot up toward the ceiling. The force shoving me into the floor didn’t change.

  My arms gave out, and I caught myself on my elbows. The probes I sent out hadn’t found anything, but there had to be a spell.

  “Do you concede?” Isadora shouted.

  Rather than reply, I stretched the probes out to the floor below me. The spell had to be close by. Water lapped at my fingers and then wrist. I opened my eyes to see three inches of water. She was going to keep me here until the challenge was called in her favor or I gave up.

  My probes brushed against a containment spell, one designed to hold the water close to me. That I could deal with. I unmade it with a few muttered runes, and the water dispersed. Though that didn’t help me get off the floor.

  “What about better motivation?” Isadora said.

  “No, please no.” My mom begged. “Gretchen, Mom, don’t do this.” Then she screamed.

  A lifetime wouldn’t be enough time to forget my mother being tortured. I closed my eyes, trying to hold back tears and ignoring the ongoing torture scene. I had to stay focused.

  The probes hadn’t found anything, so I looked inside myself. What was left of my magic looked clear. The link from Vera and Kim appeared to be functioning properly. Moving outward, the next spell I encountered was the barrier from Vera and Kim. It too seemed undamaged, but it was coated in a spell that altered how gravity affected me. It was unlike anything I’d seen before.

  “Nazid,” I whispered. The levitation spell worked, and the pull on my body reduced until it required hardly any effort for me to maintain my position. Now, I had to counter Isadora’s spell before she realized what I’d done.

  Examining it again, and with more attention, I found two weak points. I focused on them and shoved magic in until the spell exploded.

  For a moment, the backlash traveled toward Isadora, but then it reversed and headed for me. I shoved every bit of power I had left into shields. It burned through them. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. Not again.

  The skintight shield around me flared so brightly I could see it through my eyelids. It absorbed the backlash before it could reach me.

  The glow dispersed. I was fine. It hadn’t hit me, hadn’t burned through me like the last backlash. I could still win this.

  I reached for my magic but came up empty. I didn’t even have enough magic to light
a candle.

  “Isadora is the victor.” Ethel’s words hung in the air for a moment before the crowd erupted.

  I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to hold back tears as cheers attempted to drown out the dissatisfied boos. A sizable portion of the crowd clapped politely. Time seemed to slow down, forcing me to see every disappointed or overjoyed face in the audience and fake a polite expression until Ethel finished her statements and I could escape.

  Chapter Seven

  The entire drive home, Ethel’s parting words echoed through my mind. “A good showing, but not the definitive victory we had hoped to see. Still, they saw your power, more than many in audience. It will be enough.”

  Hardly the most inspiring words. I especially liked the last bit. Not that it was enough, but the implication that Ethel would find a way to make it work for us.

  My loss had given substance to the rumors that my power was permanently diminished. Instead of having to show why I would be a good premier and how I was being prepared for the position, we now had to deal with more questions of power. All I’d done in that fight was set us back, something I could’ve done without lifting a wand.

  As I turned onto a gravel road, I tried to find a positive. I’d proved I had power and could use it?

  Maybe, but that was unlikely to be enough.

  I sighed as I parked. Things would look better tomorrow. I grabbed my bag from the back seat and headed to my apartment. A night away from witches and witch problems would give me better perspective.

  A small feeling of normality washed over me as I unlocked my door. I set my bags down and flopped onto the couch. Home. Finally, I was home.

  The tension I had carried for the last three days drained out of me. I had a full six months until the next convention, and not a single scheduled appearance between. The weight of being heir apparent to the position of the premier would be reduced to meetings with my mom, Ethel, and a few of the prominent witches. Compared to the frantic preparations for the fall convention, it would be a delightful vacation.