Witched!

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Witched! Page 12

by Rebecca McRitchie


  ‘Nothing like the element of surprise,’ the woman said. ‘Are you injured?’

  Cora felt her side once more. She didn’t think anything was broken so she shook her head. Cora let her eye roam around the room they stood in. It didn’t look like a ride anymore at all. It was a home. Behind the woman was a round table and two chairs. There was a rug on the floor and a pile of folded knitted blankets. Pots and pans lined one of the walls. And there was a small plant hanging from a hook nearby. The music Cora had heard on the beach was coming from a gramophone which sat on a table in the corner of the room. It was just like the one Dot had in Urt.

  Cora looked back at the woman to find that she hadn’t taken her eyes from her. The woman stared at where Cora’s eye once was.

  ‘I fell through the waterfall,’ Cora said. ‘That’s how I found Salty Harbour.’

  The woman nodded.

  ‘We’re searching for a sea witch,’ Cora said.

  The woman continued to stare quietly.

  ‘Her name is Geraldine,’ Cora added. ‘Have you heard of her?’

  The woman said nothing. Cora was beginning to feel self-conscious under her assessing gaze.

  ‘Do you know where we might be able to find her?’ Cora asked. ‘It’s very important.’

  And then finally, the woman said something. ‘You do a lot of falling, don’t you?’

  Cora paused. She wasn’t sure what to say. She supposed that could have been true. Especially today.

  ‘What is your name?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Cora,’ she said. Cora realised that the woman hadn’t answered any of her questions.

  And then the woman said something that Cora didn’t expect.

  ‘Where’s Dot?’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cora stopped.

  ‘Wait — how do you . . .’ she replied.

  The woman smiled. And then she took a barefooted step towards Cora.

  Cora’s heart raced. It’s her. The woman standing in front of her was the sea witch. She had to be. She knew Dot and she knew that Cora was a syphon.

  But as the woman took another step towards Cora, she waved her hand over her wrinkled face and it changed. The old woman now looked young. Her wrinkles were replaced with smooth skin, her once-tired eyes shone brightly and her hunching walk straightened.

  Cora hesitated.

  The woman stepped closer again, her staff clunking against the floor with each step.

  Instinctively, Cora stepped backwards away from the woman, but as she did so her right leg felt strange from the fall, and she stumbled.

  The woman was right in front of her now. From up close, Cora noticed that the woman’s eyes shimmered . . . like crystal. And they looked into her eye with earnestness. And something else Cora couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  Righting herself, Cora found and grabbed onto the Jinx magic, but just as she was going to push the woman away, the woman did something Cora wasn’t expecting.

  Slowly, the woman reached her arms out, and then she wrapped them around Cora . . . in a hug.

  Cora paused, her arms trapped beneath the hug. She wasn’t sure what to do. She had never been hugged by a stranger before. The woman smelt like salt and sand.

  With her arms squished by her sides, Cora couldn’t move. She was about to click her fingers with the witch’s magic, when the woman spoke softly in her ear.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  Cora paused. Confused, she wondered what the woman was sorry for. Before she could ask, the woman pulled away, her hands coming to rest on Cora’s shoulders.

  She was old again.

  The woman looked at Cora and smiled as though she knew her. Her wild white hair framed her face, and her sun-kissed skin crinkled at her eyes.

  Cora put away her Jinx magic.

  ‘I’m the one who should be sorry,’ Cora said. ‘I broke your ceiling.’

  ‘Yes,’ the woman said, looking up. ‘Yes, you did.’

  Then from above them, two figures smashed through what remained of the glass ceiling. The sound of broken glass crashed through the air. The woman held her hands out over Cora as the splinters of broken glass rained down on top of them.

  Glancing up, Cora watched the two winged figures who had broken through the second eye of the ceiling dive down towards them.

  It was Tick and Tock!

  They zoomed towards her throwing POP!s of magic in the direction of the woman.

  Sparks zapped past Cora’s ears and the woman stepped backwards, shielding her face from the fairy magic. Then she held her staff up in the air and a crack of lightning shook the room. Then a huge wave of water from the sea outside dove down into the open ceiling, and into the room. It poured over Cora like a waterfall and drenched the fairies’ wings above her. With their wings wet they were unable to fly, and so Tick and Tock plummeted to the ground.

  Pushing her wet hair out of her eyes, Cora quickly grabbed hold of the princess’s magic and using the air around her, threw it under the fairies like a pillow, softening their landing on the floor.

  ‘Oof!’

  ‘Are you okay?’ Cora asked. She stepped over to the fairy brothers and helped them up from the floor.

  Thoroughly wet and a little surprised, Tick and Tock shook the water from themselves. Cora was also drenched. Her cold clothes stuck to her with each move she made.

  Tick hit the side of his head and a spurt of water fell from his ear.

  ‘I think I swallowed some,’ said Tock with a cough.

  The woman stared at Tick and Tock and then dropped her staff.

  ‘Fairies?’ the woman exclaimed, taken aback.

  ‘These are my friends,’ Cora said to the woman. ‘This is Tick and this is Tock.’ She pointed to each fairy.

  The fairies bowed.

  Then Tock burped up a small fish.

  It fell to the floor and flapped about.

  The woman pointed her staff at the flapping fish and it floated up into the air and then dropped into a bowl. With a wave of the woman’s hand, the bowl filled with water. And the fish swam back and forth.

  ‘I told you we should have just used the other entrance,’ said Tock, pointing to the spot in the glass-eye ceiling where Cora had fallen through.

  Tick gazed upwards. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

  Tock brushed some of the glass out of Cora’s hair.

  ‘How many of you are there?’ asked the woman squinting up into the now very broken ceiling, half-expecting more magical beings to come crashing through what was left of it.

  ‘How many fairies? Five hundred and twelve,’ said Tick proudly.

  ‘If you count absolutely every fairy in The Hollow,’ said Tock.

  The wave of water that had fallen through the broken ceiling and into the room was now puddles at Cora’s feet.

  Remembering what the woman had said to her before Tick and Tock burst into the room, Cora stepped in front of the fairies with squelching steps.

  ‘How do you know Dot?’ Cora asked, even though she was sure she already knew the answer. ‘And how do you know that I’m a syphon?’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Tick and Tock together.

  The odd look in the woman’s crystal eyes returned.

  ‘Because,’ the woman said, pointing to where Cora’s eye used to be. ‘I’m the one who took your eye away.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Cora stared at the woman in front of her. Did she hear her correctly? Cora glanced over at Tick and Tock. The fairies stared at the woman too, their mouths agape.

  ‘You . . . did this?’ Cora asked pointing to her scar.

  The woman nodded, the strange look in her eye remaining. And Cora finally realised what it was. Remorse.

  ‘I’m the sea witch you’re looking for,’ the woman said. Then with a wave of her hand, the water that had settled in puddles on the floor, swirled around their ankles like a whirlpool. The swirling water then rose up from the ground, each droplet merging with another in
the air. Then the droplets that had soaked Cora’s and the fairies’ clothes and hair flew from them outwards towards the swirling water in the air. And then with a click of Geraldine’s fingers, the water blob in the air disappeared.

  Patting herself, Cora felt that she was now completely dry. And so were the fairies.

  ‘So . . .’ said Tick. ‘You’re Gwendolyn?’

  The woman raised an eyebrow.

  Tock nudged him. ‘Geraldine.’

  ‘You’re Geraldine?’ Tick corrected himself.

  The woman smiled and nodded. ‘I recognised you not by your name, but by your face,’ she said to Cora.

  They had found Geraldine and Cora had fulfilled her promise to Dot. She could finally learn about her parents and . . . her brother. And now with her help, they could leave the bewitched beach. But Cora’s relief and happiness were quickly buried by feelings of confusion and disbelief. The woman in front of her, the sea witch Geraldine, who helped her parents and entrusted her to Dot . . . was also the one who had taken her eye. Why?

  ‘Cup of tea?’ offered Geraldine. She turned, motioning to the round table and wooden chairs behind her.

  Cora’s thoughts swirled around like pieces of a floating jigsaw puzzle.

  ‘But I thought my parents . . .’ Cora began trying to put her thoughts together. She remembered what Kaede had told her in Tynth. He had said that her parents were responsible for her missing eye.

  Geraldine looked at Cora plainly.

  ‘What do you know about your parents?’ Geraldine asked.

  ‘Not much,’ said Cora honestly. All she knew was what Dot had told her. And what Kaede had told her.

  Geraldine nodded. ‘Come,’ she said. ‘Sit.’

  The sea witch turned around and walked further into the room. To their right, Cora could see a small kitchen along one wall near the table and chairs. Geraldine held out her hand, and a round pot on the counter filled itself with water and started boiling.

  Cora stepped over to the table and chairs and sat down in the nearest one. As she sorted out her thoughts, Cora tried to think of the first question to ask Geraldine. The woman who potentially held the answer to all of her questions was now only a few feet away from her, making tea and putting some food into a clay bowl.

  Glancing behind her, Cora saw that Tick and Tock had remained where they were, their eyes unmoving from the sea witch.

  Geraldine placed the bowl of food down on the table in front of Cora.

  ‘Dried sea slugs,’ said the sea witch. ‘Very good for you.’

  Cora looked down at the crispy green creatures in the bowl. Although she was hungry, they did not look appetising.

  Geraldine waited patiently, and Cora realised that she was waiting for her to take a slug. Smiling politely at the sea witch, Cora picked up one of the shrivelled slugs and hesitantly popped it in her mouth.

  She chewed, and the snack tasted exactly how she had expected. Like a crispy slug. With salt.

  ‘What’s the matter with your friends?’ Geraldine asked, looking over at the fairies.

  Cora turned and saw that the fairies still hadn’t taken their eyes off Geraldine or moved from where they stood. Were they frozen? Were they scared? Cora wasn’t sure what had gotten into them. They looked awestruck. Then Cora remembered the story. The reason why they had come to Salty Harbour in the first place.

  ‘Oh,’ Cora said. ‘I think they think you are the sea witch from a story who—’

  ‘Are you the sea witch who saved Salty Harbour from zombie pirates?’ Tick interrupted excitedly.

  ‘With only your staff and two stones?’ added Tock.

  Geraldine squinted at the fairies. ‘That story is hundreds of years old. How old do you think I am?’

  The fairies looked at each other, unsure how to answer.

  ‘No,’ said Geraldine. ‘That wasn’t me.’

  Tick’s and Tock’s excited faces fell.

  ‘That was my mother,’ Geraldine added.

  Tick and Tock gasped in unison, their eyes wide once more with excitement. Then the pair flew over to where Cora was sitting but instead of taking a seat on the chairs, they sat cross-legged on top of the table.

  ‘Tell us about her,’ said Tock.

  ‘Maybe some other time,’ said Geraldine with a smile. Resting her staff against the table, the sea witch sat on the chair next to Cora and placed the hot tea and clay cups in front of them. With a wave of her hand, the water moved from the round pot into each of their cups. Cora could see that the tea was tinged with green and wondered briefly if it was made with dried sea slugs too.

  Cora, the fairies and Geraldine sat in silence for a moment as each of them sipped their green tea. It warmed up Cora.

  ‘Do you have any—’ Geraldine began.

  ‘Why?’ Cora blurted. Out of all the questions she wanted to ask the sea witch, it was the first one that fell from her mouth.

  Geraldine placed her cup of tea down on the table.

  ‘Why did you do it?’ Cora asked. She felt a tear obscure her vision but she wiped it away with the back of her hand before it fell. ‘Why did you take away my eye? And why did you . . . why did you let my parents . . .’ Cora stopped, unable to say the next word.

  In her seat, Geraldine inched herself closer to Cora.

  ‘I did everything in my power,’ the sea witch said, an earnestness in her voice. ‘I promise you. When it was clear your parents were not going to make it, they begged me to make sure that you would be safe.’ She glanced at where Cora’s eye should have been. ‘No matter the consequences.’

  Geraldine sat back in her chair. ‘And so you were witched. By me.’

  ‘Witched?’ Cora replied, unsure.

  ‘So it IS a witch’s mark,’ said Tock.

  Cora remembered that Tick and Tock had called her scar that when they first met her in Urt.

  ‘Some call it marked, yes,’ said Geraldine. ‘There are many names for it. Stained, witched, scarred, damned, hexed . . . hooley-dooleyed.’

  Tick and Tock sniggered at the last one.

  Cora remembered what Archibald had said when she first met him. In this world, that can mean many things.

  ‘But what does that mean?’ Cora asked. ‘Am I a witch?

  Geraldine shook her head. ‘The powerful spell of protection I used that night required a sacrifice,’ she said. ‘Something from you. Being witched just means that you have had a witch take something from you.’

  ‘My eye,’ Cora said, following.

  Geraldine nodded. ‘Many witches and warlocks use spells that require something in return. But you didn’t feel a thing,’ Geraldine added quickly. ‘I made sure of it. And it was the only way to make sure that you stayed hidden. It took almost all the magic I had, but the protection spell gave you and Dot a chance to be safe.’

  ‘Even if it made me different from everyone else?’ Cora asked softly.

  Geraldine grabbed onto Cora’s hand. ‘My dear,’ she said, ‘you’re a syphon. You were always going to be different from everyone else.’

  Cora realised that was true. If she hadn’t found the box with the Jinx curse, she might not have ever known that she was a syphon. She might not have ever known about her parents.

  ‘And being different from everyone else is a marvellous thing,’ Geraldine said, smiling at Cora. ‘Just ask them,’ she added, pointing a thumb over her shoulder at Tick and Tock.

  Cora glanced over to see that the fairies were trying unsuccessfully to balance their cups on their noses.

  Cora smiled. Geraldine’s words made her feel better. Her missing eye wasn’t important. At least, not anymore. She thought about her parents and a large part of her wished that they were the ones here, telling her these things. And then she realised that she still didn’t know much more about them than she did before.

  ‘Geraldine,’ Cora began, ‘can you tell me about my parents? Please?’

  Tick and Tock stopped balancing cups and listened.

  The sea witc
h sat back in her chair.

  ‘Your parents’ names were Martha and Ivan,’ Geraldine said. ‘And the first time I met them . . . they saved my life.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cora let the names of her parents float around in her mind like the first sign of snow in the morning air. Martha and Ivan, she repeated. Martha and Ivan.

  Straight away, Cora tried to imagine the faces that belonged to those names.

  She held onto the small memory she had of her parents. The one of pointed, red-leather shoes in tall grass. A bright sun. The cool air. A yellow sundress. A soft laugh.

  ‘It was a year or two before I met you,’ Geraldine said to Cora.

  The sea witch spoke as though she was recounting a famous story. A story Cora felt like she had waited her whole life to hear. She inched forward in her seat. Tick and Tock put their heads in their hands, listening intently.

  ‘The sea has a mind of its own. It is fickle, volatile and most of the time, completely uncontrollable. It’s also why there aren’t many of my kind. The sea chooses who it will listen to,’ Geraldine said. ‘One night, when I was in Bottle Bay, a storm hit the town. The water from the sea rose high and crashed upon the shore swallowing some of the houses. The rain was as cold as ice and it flew down from the sky like stinging rocks. And the wind was as wild as I had ever seen. The roofs of houses were pulled up by its force. If the sea wasn’t controlled, the entire town of Bottle Bay and the magical beings in it would be washed away.

  ‘I stood out on a cliff face of the bay and did what I could to keep the raging sea away from the town, at least until everyone could get to higher ground. I turned my attention away from the crashing waves in front of me for just a moment, and in that time, a fierce wave crashed across the cliff I was standing on. I remember falling and hitting my head, but not much else after that until . . . your parents found me the next day. I had been washed ashore on a beach somewhere, many miles away from Bottle Bay.

  ‘When I awoke, your parents told me that I had broken bones in both my arms and legs, and that there was water in my lungs. I watched them as they used many different kinds of magic to help me. Too many kinds for one magical being to have. And some magic that could only belong to witches, hobgoblins, elves and trolls,’ Geraldine said.

 

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