Witch in Training

by Elle Adams

  “I’m sorry,” I said, again. “Have you spoken to him since then, or interacted with him in any way?’

  “What is this, a questioning? The police already took my statement on the accident.”

  Hmm. Might she have been the one to put the curse on him? If he’d been here, it was definitely possible, but she was already entirely too suspicious of me. According to my lie-sensing ability, however, she’d only told the truth so far.

  “I’m new here in town,” I explained. “Mr Falconer is insistent that I find him a new apprentice, but I’m hearing less than savoury things about him. I’ve already had a lot of people turn down the job, so I was wondering if there was something I didn’t know. Since your grandmother mentioned his name, I—”

  “Didn’t anyone tell you not to pay any attention to her rants?”

  And she closed the door in my face.

  You handled that well. Should I confront the man directly about what he might have done to Ava? If I asked, I’d know right away if he lied.

  On the other hand, if things went south, I might end up the next victim instead. I was miles out of my depth, and if Annabel was right, nobody else had witnessed her grandmother’s accident. There was no way to prove he wasn’t responsible.

  As for her attempt at finding wandwood? There was a path into the woods directly alongside her house. I knew it ended at the lake somewhere, on the other side of the waterfall to the part of the lake I’d been to before. Perhaps I should take to the skies to get my bearings, but while I wore my boots, being able to levitate didn’t turn me invisible. I walked down the path, peering over the fence on my left into her slightly overgrown garden. She’d left the curtains partly open. I scanned the room within for anything suspect, but I didn’t have a clue what a curse looked like. She hadn’t lied to me, and nor had she given anything away.

  I jumped when a faint howl came from the forest. Shifter territory wasn’t far away, and while it wasn’t the full moon yet, some of them liked to shift into their animal forms to run around the forest. This part of town was wild, unknown, and I hadn’t explored it fully yet. With the way I’d accidentally ticked off the werewolf pack in my first week, I was probably best putting that particular task on hold for now. I got lost in my own garden. Wandering into a magical forest without a map fell into the category of ‘absurdly reckless decisions’.

  Watching from the sky, though? Nope, not reckless at all. Before I could question my wisdom, I switched on my Seven Millimetre boots and levitated above the house, looking down at the trees beyond. From here, I could see how far the territory stretched, but not where the boundaries lay. This part of the forest belonged to the witches, but the unsafe area wasn’t clearly marked from this angle. Obviously. Not your best plan, Blair.

  A strong wind collided with me, blowing me off course and upside-down. Face flaming, and glad nobody was around to witness my latest stunt, I landed gracelessly at the road’s end and hoped that the townspeople hadn’t looked out of their windows at that particular moment in time. Quite enough adventuring for one day, Blair. Time to go home.

  No mice waited inside the flat. Roald and Sky did. I tipped cat food into a bowl for Sky, but he turned his nose up at it. “What’s the problem this time?”

  “Miaow,” said Sky.

  Roald dove off the sofa and stole his food. “Hey!” I said half-heartedly. Sky didn’t take a swipe at Roald, like I’d expected. Still, warring felines were less than a minor problem in my life.

  “You didn’t eat the mice, did you?” I asked Sky, feeling nauseous at the thought.

  “Miaow.”

  “Where are they?”

  Sky licked a paw.

  I groaned. “Seriously. If they’re gone, their families will never see them again. And if they’re with Mr Falconer, he’s probably the world’s worst pet owner.”

  Alissa came into the room. “What’s the verdict?”

  “She wouldn’t talk to me,” I admitted. “I upset her by bringing up the subject. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have, but I’m starting to think we were right—Mr Falconer definitely argued with her, before the accident. Which would give her a motive to teach him a lesson. I looked around, but I don’t even know what a curse looks like, so I wouldn’t have known if she set it up.”

  Alissa took a seat next to me on the sofa. “He argued with her? Both her and Ava? I wish I knew how to get straight answers out of Ava, but the best paranormal doctors on the planet can’t get through to a seer who’s lost her senses.”

  “Annabel definitely seems to blame him,” I said. “I mean—it’s awful if it’s true, but what if he was responsible for her accident? Even if it wasn’t deliberate, look what he did with the mice. It’d be just like him to refuse to face up to it.”

  She shifted to the side when Roald squeezed his way between us on the sofa and stretched out. “Are you sure she didn’t give anything away?”

  I petted Roald. “I wish I’d been more delicate with my questioning. She brought up my mother and it threw me off. Anyway, it’s possible this grudge started before the accident.”

  Sky nudged the back of my head. Speaking of grudges. I didn’t like the look he gave Roald, so I lifted him into my lap before he took it upon himself to dive on top of the other cat and steal his spot. It’d been known to happen.

  Alissa said, “That wouldn’t surprise me, given how long both of them have lived here. Tell you what, I’ll speak to Ava again. If I mention your name, she’s bound to pay me some attention. What would you like me to ask her?”

  About my mother. No—not that. “For a start, I’d like to know if she did speak directly to Mr Falconer. If he went to her house. Because she might have cursed him while he was there. Or Annabel did. If the curse hit him after the accident, she wouldn’t have had a wand, right?”

  “You know—yes, you’re right,” she said. “The thorny issue is that curses are possibly the trickiest type of magic there is. And this one has never been done before. It’s obvious that Ava—and possibly her granddaughter—definitely have the imagination to come up with a curse like that, but not necessarily the skill. Especially Ava. I’d be more inclined to believe Annabel did it, but she’s not that skilled at magic.”

  Hmm. She was the most likely person, and the facts fit. Ava had seemed genuinely distressed when she’d talked about Mr Falconer, but I hadn’t spent long enough around her to know if that was typical behaviour for her or not. At the same time, her words had resonated and hadn’t set off my inner lie detector. Maybe it was because I had a soft spot for the underdog, and it sounded like seers were it, in the eyes of the other witches at least. Paranormals seemed to grow more complicated the more time I spent here, and I still had that outsider’s perspective that I wasn’t sure would ever go away.

  Alissa said, “Lots of people keep secrets. It’s not that uncommon. It’s why when stuff like this happens, it goes unnoticed.”

  I stroked Sky, and he purred contentedly. “I do think Annabel was hiding something. She lives right next to the forest.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Let me guess—you went snooping.”

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t go inside. I was just curious about the wandwood. And I was told witches use the forest to gather ingredients all the time.”

  “Didn’t you end up being ambushed by killer plants the last time you went wandering somewhere without permission?”

  Touché. “Yes, but this time I don’t have to sneak around. The forest is public property.”

  “Technically, it’s the witches’ property.”

  “Isn’t basically everything their property? Our house is. So is the office where I work, the garden, the high street…”

  She sighed. “I won’t stop you. But avoid the part past the row of trees that have no bark on them. That’s shifter territory. It’s fairly well marked out, but be on your guard.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The weather was still dodgy enough that I didn’t quite want to risk using
the boots again… but I still had some options. I’d just take a quick look. That was all.

  This is a bad idea. I had no sense of direction. The forest didn’t have a map. And there might be dangerous magical creatures wandering around.

  What I did have was a pair of fast, levitating shoes, and an insatiable curiosity which had kept me up all night. So here I was, at five in the morning, walking to the far end of town where the lake merged with the forest on its north side. Birdsong mingled with the distant sound of the waterfall, growing louder as the houses became more spaced out. The witches used the paths so often, they’d left a well-worn track leading into the thick forest, which I followed.

  The trees closed over my head immediately, and the lightening sky suddenly seemed a long way off. Eerie silence pervaded, and grey mist clung to the low-hanging branches.

  What are you even looking for in here?

  Not wandwood. I doubted I had the skill to make wands, nor did I particularly want to. No… Annabel had said her grandmother’s spell had backfired in a clearing not far from the lake. Apparently it still bore the marks from her wand. If I found it…

  What did I expect? The wand she carried was a fake. She might never have created one at all. But she’d believed she had, and that was enough for my lie detecting ability.

  As for my second purpose…

  I pulled out the guide to plants I’d borrowed from Rita, crouched down and picked a few leaves. I’d looked up the recipe for an invisibility potion—a tricky potion, and definitely not one I’d be using in class—but it might help my get answers from Mr Falconer if he refused to talk. I’d wait and see what I could find out in the meantime.

  Three clearings later and I stopped abruptly. Two trees had fallen so they stood at right-angles to one another. The rest of the clearing was bare of life. Dead trees. No birdsong. Just the scorched remains of a backfiring spell. I could smell its bitter tang in the air.

  “What are you doing here?” a small, shrill voice demanded. It belonged to a man considerably shorter than I was, with pointed ears, pale skin, and clothes the colour of the surrounding forest—which explained why I hadn’t seen him a foot away from me.

  I jumped. “Hi.”

  Goblin? No… elf.

  “You look lost,” he said, his teeth bared in a grin. “Come to find the cursed clearing?”

  “Is that what it’s called?” My heart began to beat faster.

  “So we say. A terrible curse was cast here, and it damaged the forest.”

  “I—really?” I said, surprised into feigning ignorance. Nathan had mentioned something about elves causing trouble, but I couldn’t recall him saying how. “Isn’t this the witches’ forest?”

  His mouth twisted. “They were rotten to the core, the people who cut down the forest and turned our trees into weapons. And you, too.”

  “I’m not,” I said, holding up my hands. “See? No wand. I’m new in town and thought I’d have a look around. So, er, what’s wrong with the wands?” Why did everyone seem to want me to not have one?

  “It’s unnatural. Their magic. Wands are human creations,” he growled.

  Okay…

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “Do you have a problem with the person who made the wands?”

  “The human with the devil’s touch,” he hissed. “Evil man.”

  “Wait, it was him, then? Did you—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, the elf had disappeared into the forest.

  Hmm. He seemed to have some kind of grudge against the wand-makers—a fact that would normally land him on my suspect list. But elves didn’t have much magic. Certainly not the type that could put a curse on someone, witch-style.

  Weird. Definitely weird.

  I got back home to find Alissa waiting outside the house. “I was about to come after you,” she said.

  “Not to worry,” I said. “Who would I talk to if I wanted to learn about the elves?”

  She blinked sleepily. “The elves?”

  “They had some kind of dispute with the witches,” I said. “And have a huge grudge against the wand-makers, particularly Mr Falconer.”

  Her brow furrowed. “You’re saying an elf set up the curse?”

  “I have no idea. They do have magic, right?”

  She nodded. “Nature-based, mostly. They can make things grow… and that’s about it. They affect things like the weather, too, but on a less volatile scale than weather-witches or similar. Otherwise, they’re probably not responsible for the curse. If he’d angered the elves, he’d be dealing with sour milk or itchy… parts.”

  I smothered a laugh. Still, they had reason to be annoyed with him, given how overprotective they apparently were of the forest. “He seemed incredibly ticked off, the one I spoke to. Is there someone else, an elf who’s more… friendly with humans? I think it’s worth looking into.”

  “To be honest, I don’t think any of them are friendly with humans,” she said. “Madame Grey dislikes them, but she never went into any detail about why. I guess it’s because the witches and the elves have always argued over the forest.”

  “Sounds about right.” I never thought not having a wand might actually be an advantage, but it’d probably saved my neck out there. Though the elf hadn’t exactly struck me as dangerous, it seemed pretty clear to me that there was something going on in the wand-making business that went far beyond a few mice.

  7

  The first thing I encountered at work on Monday morning was an angry voicemail message from the man himself. Steeling myself, I dialled his number.

  “Wilkes,” he growled. “Have you found any suitable candidates yet?”

  “I haven’t,” I said. “I did look around over the weekend, but I haven’t yet found another candidate.”

  I emphasised the word weekend, though his annoyance was the least of my worries. How was I supposed to get on the topic of how he might have hurt an innocent woman—much less damaged the witches’ forest and caught the ire of the elves who lived there?

  “Stop wasting my time,” he growled. “This is your job.”

  “I’m aware of that. I’ve spoken to dozens of potential assistants on your behalf, but none of them are available to apply. You’ve been through so many people that it’s difficult to find new candidates.”

  “Does that include Arabella Connolly? Don’t think I didn’t hear about you snooping around.”

  “You—” He was spying on me?

  “The stupid girl called me this morning. She seemed convinced I know where her son is.”

  “Well,” I said, “you do.”

  There was a slight pause. “I can’t tell one candidate from another.”

  Huh? Oh—he meant the mice. “That’s not her fault,” I said, “I spoke to her because I thought he might have been linked to the curse—”

  “Don’t speak of that over the phone,” he growled. “Come to me in person if you wish to discuss confidential matters.”

  My heart jumped into my throat. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll call up some more candidates, but you should know you aren’t my only client. I spoke to the family of the last one because they might have known if your previous assistants had some personal issues with you. Unless you have anything else you’d like to disclose yourself?”

  “Only that I sincerely regret hiring you, Miss Wilkes, and unless you want to be without a wand, you’ll do your job.”

  Despite my growing apprehension, a sliver of indignation peeked through.

  “Isn’t that blackmail?” I asked. “You told me not to report you to the witches, but you’re technically breaking the law by forcing me to work outside the limits of the job description. It’s not like we signed a contract—”

  He hung up.

  Bethan arched her eyebrows at me. “You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

  “He’s being deliberately unhelpful.” And he’d brought the curse on himself, that much was abundantly clear. I was seriously tempt
ed to tell the others, my boss included, but if the worst of the stories was true, he was dangerous, more so than I’d guessed from dealing with him in person. But the spark of my anger had well and truly ignited. I rage-sorted files for several minutes, fuming silently.

  “Boss incoming,” muttered Bethan.

  A moment later, Veronica entered the office, and she walked to my desk.

  “I just heard from Mr Falconer,” she said. “Apparently you’ve yet to find him an assistant.”

  “The person I picked quit before getting to the job,” I explained. “His demands are a bit more excessive than any other client. There’s a limited number of possible candidates.”

  “I know he’s unpleasant to work with, but he could muddy our name with everyone in town,” she said. “I have to ask you to turn your attention to the job immediately. If this goes south, he could easily prevent us from getting any more clients. He also told me to reiterate that nobody except you knows the precise details of your job, and to tread carefully or else find those details might make their way back to your mentor.”

  Whoa. The crafty git was implying he’d blame me for the curse? Now that was underhanded.

  “How did he end up being the only person in town who can create new wands?” I asked. Oops. I probably should have modified my tone before I spoke to the boss.

  “He’s lived here longer than I have, so I’m not the person to ask,” Veronica said. “But when it comes to specialist areas like wand-making, it takes a type of skill that can’t be demonstrated. Like Mr Bayer’s handmade spells. If any person tried to copy them, they wouldn’t succeed. It’s to do with innate magical talent.”

  The Magic Touch. But Mr Falconer had given so little away about the process, I had to wonder what exactly he was teaching his apprentices.

  Hang on a moment. It didn’t sound like Mr Falconer was checking whether his applicants had the talent or not before teaching them. So it must be possible to teach that skill. Right?