Elements of Power (Council of the Harvest Moon Book 1)

by Kate Stoessel

  “Indeed,” said the Headmistress quickly, worried that one of her students compared herself to the most hated species of supernatural being. “While, traditionally, elemental magic has been associated with fairies, even the most powerful fairies only have control over one element. Only fairy queens…”

  “That is quite enough talk about...fairies,” my mother said coldly. She picked up the newspaper on Helewidis’ desk and held it up high. On the cover was a male fairy in his 40’s with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. The headline read Manhunt Continues for Wanted Terrorist Linus Boreas, and the subhead said Marshals spread thin as copycat attacks ramp up in response to anti-fairy sentiment. “Are you a cold-blooded killer like this animal and his followers?”

  “No,” I responded, regretting mentioning fairies at such a stressful time. New security protocols at my mother’s laboratory were a constant source of worry, and she didn’t need to be reminded of them while discussing her other most significant source of stress- my future.

  “Well, then you do not have fairy magic. Should the testing be correct,” she added pointedly looking at the headmistress, “you represent the continued evolution of witches as the superior supernatural species. This would be a great coup for our kind. There hasn’t been a fairy with more than 2 elemental powers since the industrial revolution.”

  “Yes, mother.” I knew that was the end of this discussion, but I had so many more questions. How can I have such powers and not know it? I have been practicing magic for 18 years. How can I, the witch with no specialty, represent the evolution of witchcraft? What if I don’t have these powers and I am nothing but a disappointment? As my head was spinning, my mother pushed forward.

  “Now, where is my daughter going to learn how to reach her full potential?”

  “It is the recommendation of the Gables School that Khlorie attend Spindlewick College in Maine.”

  “I thought there were only 14 colleges in the country,” I stuttered nervously. “One for each specialty.” I had my heart set on becoming a Spell Writing Witch and going to Shade College in New Orleans. I always admired how this gifted group, adorned in their bold red color, molded magic to their will and shared their knowledge with the world. It was a lofty goal. I suppose the pride of being a descendant of two of the most powerful witching families in New England, the Bishops and the Lethestones, clouded my ability to assess the reality of the situation.

  Headmistress Helewidis put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me. “Spindlewick is not tied to a specialty and is, therefore, not an option for most students. However, rest assured, that it was established to take our most powerful students and help them reach their full potential. By the end of your time there, you will have a specialty, as every witch must, but you will be so much more.” She walked over to her desk and picked up a leather portfolio embossed simply in the lower right-hand corner with an ornate “S.” “They have sent some materials along for you to peruse.”

  Helewidis handed me the folio and inside was a welcome letter:

  Dear Khloris Lethestone,

  We are excited to offer you a spot at Spindlewick College for the upcoming school year. Our witches go on to play crucial roles in their communities and the world. During your three years with us, you will learn about yourself, your magic, and your potential. Our professors are some of the most talented witches in their fields and they look forward to working with you to develop a personalized curriculum tailored to your individual needs. While other schools may have class sizes exceeding 100 witches, at Spindlewick you will never have a class with more than 4 students. This individualized attention makes us the best institution in the American Continental Coven, if not the world.

  You are elite. You are powerful. You are Spindlewick.

  We look forward to partnering with you,

  Vibiana Sager

  President, Spindlewick College

  I took a deep breath and reread the last lines “You are elite. You are powerful.” I certainly didn’t feel that way. I kept looking through the folio and found the next sheet.

  Spindlewick College: First Year Details

  Report Date : Noon, The Day after the Summer Solstice

  Reaching our island - Due to security protocols, our school cannot be reached via broomstick or spell travel. We recommend new students travel to Snows Point in Bar Harbor, Maine via whatever method is most convenient to them. At promptly 11 am, our ferry (lovingly known as “The Wick” by students) will pick up passengers and take them to the campus.

  Dorm Assignment - Cottage Number 14

  Uniform - While college often starts a witch’s time wearing her specialty’s color, at Spindlewick we assign specialties as part of our graduation ceremony. Until that point, we ask students to wear whatever color they choose, both on and off campus. Female students will wear black slacks or long black skirts with black boots to class and male students will wear black slacks and black boots.

  I was relieved about being able to wear whatever color I wanted. I didn’t want to wear the black and white check uniform for a single moment longer. However, this was all very strange. I had never seen my mother leave the house without her potioneer’s purple. Beyond that, I could not imagine why a school would need such strict security protocols. When I visited the fourteen specialty colleges with the Gables School, we took broomsticks and landed right in the heart of the campuses or just spelled ourselves there if it was in one of the more Western Areas. Some of the schools, like Delphi College for Divination, even invited people on campus frequently for readings.

  The last item in the folio was a campus map with basic areas of interest on it, like the academic building, gardens, student housing, community center, and president’s house. Additionally, there were some more exotic locations like the Persecuted Witches Memorial, the security station, the lighthouse, and the observatory. The map was a basic, hand-drawn one and gave little indication of what the campus looked like. I looked through the folio to make sure that I did not miss a brochure of some kind with pictures of the campus or information about the history of the college. Nothing else. This was not the college experience I was expecting. You are elite. You are powerful. You are Spindlewick.

  “Why have I never heard of this school?” I asked.

  “It is kept a secret to protect students, like yourself, who have powers beyond...students who are gifted. The Witch Education Bureau wants these students to learn to use their powers in a safe and controlled environment free of fear.” Headmistress Helewidis gently took the folio back and walked behind her desk. With a wave of her hand, it was gone.

  I made a grunt of sorts, shocked that the only proof that an institution wanted me had been taken away. “I need that. Where did it go?”

  “The secrecy is for your own protection,” my mother said. “I assume that we will receive word from President Sager in due course to remind us of the details for reporting?”

  “Yes,” said the educator as she settled back into the chair behind her desk. “We can ask Mr. Cybelline…” and just as she mentioned his name, her assistant walked into the office carrying a small notecard and a brochure.

  “Madame Lethestone, this is when you can expect to hear from President Sager’s representative. He will set everything up with you for Khlorie’s arrival.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Cybelline,” my mother responded before turning to the headmistress. “Can we talk about Khlorie’s transitioning ceremony? I assume she will walk with her class. What color robes should we put her in? As you know, many eyes are on our family.”

  Mr. Cybelline stepped forward again and handed the brochure to my mother. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the words Robes de Sorcières Européennes. She gave the assistant a grateful smile, and he walked out of the room.

  “I spoke to the Witch Education Board, and they told me that students who attend Spindlewick often choose a robe design from this company. We will tell people that you are going to be attending a European College where the specialty system is
n’t quite so...rigid.”

  My mother bristled, causing the kind witch to straighten in her chair and correct herself. “I mean prominent. I hear that many families in the areas out West are doing this to try to have a more well-rounded witching education. You may even start a trend,” she said with a little laugh.

  My mother was not laughing. She paused for a moment and then spoke coldly, “The New England witches, ones from my family, were instrumental in creating the education system that has made our young sorcerers the most powerful in the world. It has helped us to our position as the preeminent supernatural beings in this country.” She stood up. “I will play along with this farce to protect Khlorie’s reputation and the secrecy around Spindlewick College. However, I certainly hope that an educator of your stature would not allow New England witches to seek training elsewhere simply because of a... trend.” With that, she walked powerfully towards the door knowing that Mr. Cybelline would open it at just the right time.

  Once the tapping of my mother’s boots was barely audible, Mr. Cybelline rushed back inside with a box of tissues just as a tear welled up in my eyes. Headmistress Helewidis walked to the chair that my mother recently vacated and grabbed my hands.

  “Khlorie,” she said gently. “I know that this is not what you had planned. I admit that it is a bit of an unorthodox situation and being that you are part of such a prominent family, I know it is extra stressful.” She paused and gave my hands a squeeze. “You need to know, though, that this is not a punishment. It is a great gift. You are more special than you know and more powerful than you can imagine. I’m sorry that we cannot tell everyone.”

  I smiled at her, more for her comfort than mine, and resigned myself to the fact that my carefully planned future was now gone. All that was left was unknown potential.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Making it to my transition ceremony while holding on to such a huge secret was not easy. I was certainly ready to celebrate leaving Gables Academy. After the ceremony, my mother and I returned back to our house tired but happy to leave the last few months in the past. In an hour or so, we would be hosting a party for Brigid and me. It was turning out to be more of a society gala than either Brigid or I wanted, however. Parties were never small when you were from families like ours and we were ready to take it in stride. As I changed into my dress for the party, I looked down at the artisan witches and wizards in their maroon shirts running around the spacious backyard putting finishing touches on the food and the decorations. A few chanting witches in their blue outfits were setting up a stage near the water. The mirror reflected my floral print gown, yet another reminder that I had no specialty. Striding over to my vanity, I cast my favorite makeup application spell. “Aglaia.” Instantly, my cheeks, eyelids, and lips were colored with just the right shades, and my lashes extended and darkened.

  “Now what should I do with this unruly mess I call hair?”

  “ Aglaokhaitas ,” came my mother’s voice from the door and, with a wave of her hand, my auburn hair was swept into a thick side braid adorned with small flowers and moon stones.

  “It’s perfect,” I said looking in the mirror. “Thank you.” Mom walked into the reflection behind me and I saw how exquisite she looked in her A-line, purple, silk dress. On anyone else it would appear a simple dress, but the construction on my mother’s tall slim frame made it look the picture of couture. She walked behind me and put a necklace around my neck. A delicate, but intricate silver chain that looked like it was made of silver vines hung perfectly in the open space of the V-neck dress. At the end of the chain was a stunning emerald about the size of a quarter. I gasped softly looking at the priceless piece.

  “Your Grandfather Bishop spelled this over this morning with a note,” she said, handing me the notecard made from homemade paper. On the top of the card were grandfather’s initials H.B.

  Dear Khlorie,

  I am so sorry to miss your transitioning ceremony and party. I am on deadline and will need to be traveling for the foreseeable future. I am incredibly proud of the witch you have become, and I know that your father would be as well. This necklace belonged to your grandmother. I wish that you knew her. She had green eyes that shone like emeralds and auburn hair, just like you. She and your father are looking out for you. They may not physically be there today, but I know that they are following along with your story. Enjoy the necklace, and congratulations on your transitioning.

  With Love,

  Henry Bishop

  P.S.- Don’t tell your mother I said this, but I am thrilled that you will be going to school in Europe for a bit. We Bishops have always had choices when it came to specialties, and it is so limiting to have to choose just one when you are so young. I highly recommend time travel, though I know you have not had much luck at it yet. Maybe you are just a late bloomer. See you soon (or maybe in the past).

  I smiled at the note and then stuck it in the drawer of my vanity to keep it from my mother’s prying eyes. She would not like the comment about the educational system being limited.

  “What did your grandfather have to say?” My mother asked.

  “That he is traveling for work,” I began.

  “That man spends more time in the past than anyone I have ever met. You’d think, as a time traveler, that he would never miss anything,” she said.

  “Yeah, I’m not really sure how the timeline thing works still,” I said. “He also said that father would be proud of me and that he and Grandma Bishop are watching over me.”

  A tear came to my mother’s left eye and she swatted it away. “Well, that is certainly true. Finch loved you more than anything, Khlorie.”

  “Do you think that he would be proud of me even though I don’t have a specialty?” I asked. “I know it has been problematic for you. Everyone keeps asking about it.”

  “Khloris Lethestone,” she replied firmly. “Of course, he would be proud of you. There is no shame in being powerful, and that is what you are. You are too powerful. You will get a handle on these new abilities in a safe environment, and then you will work to keep the American Continental Coven strong. This feels strange now, but it won’t forever.” I nodded as the house announced the coming arrival of the Trackerson-Williams family.

  “Oh, I better deactivate the arrival spell, or it will be going off all night,” she said before kissing me and heading downstairs to greet the co-hosts. “Aunt Felicity sent word with her security people that she is coming tonight,” my mom added as she gracefully descended the stairs.

  I took one more look in the mirror and readied myself for the night ahead.

  Brigid looked splendid in her brown gown, matching all of her family. Things were so easy for her. People asked her about her college plans, what classes she was looking forward to, and whether or not she thought she was going to join ACC law enforcement like her parents. She chatted effortlessly about the dorm she wanted to live in and how she hoped to have a roommate from New England.

  “I just think New England witches tend to have the right priorities. If I get paired with a fairy sympathizer, I think I’ll just have to come home,” she joked. “If not New England, it would be great to have a roommate from North Dakota who can show me around,” she told the Head of the Potion Ingredient Regulation Office cheerfully. “Of course, I have been to the campus before, but it still feels like another planet out there.”

  I was very happy to have Brigid be the star of the show. In fact, I walked out past the back gate and went to sit out on the dock by myself, hoping no one would notice I was gone. When footsteps finally approached, it was Brigid’s older brother, Callum. He walked over with two flutes of champagne and a sympathetic look on his face. His brown suit was exquisitely tailored for his muscular features. Even his hair was a sandy brown. His fair skin, tanned by the sun, sat on top of chiseled features that made him quite the heartthrob. My classmates at Gables School talked about him all the time, even though he graduated 4 years ago. Brigid and I just rolled our eyes and laughed. At m
ore than a few inches over six feet, he towered over me and had always looked out for me, his little sister’s best friend.

  “Hey there Pickle, is this seat taken?” His old nickname for me sounded silly coming out of such a deep voice. I shook my head, and he sat down, gracefully for his size, handing me one of the flutes. “It’s nice to see you somewhere other than a crime scene,” he whispered conspiratorially. “So, why aren’t you off holding court with my sister? This is your big night.”

  “Well, there are only so many times I can answer the same questions and see the same horrified glances. Brigid is doing fine without me.”

  He laughed. “She is certainly happy to be the center of attention. Still,” he continued smiling, “you worked hard at Gables Academy. You should celebrate transitioning. It’s an achievement.”

  “I guess so,” I replied noncommittally. I wanted to change the subject. “So, what are you doing now? For work, I mean?”

  “Well, right now I work in Coven Security and Intelligence for the New England region,” he said proudly. “It’s been really busy with all of the Linus Boreas tracking and the copycats. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it back in time for this.” He sighed. “We thought we had a lead on the case, and it ended up being a dead end.” His smile faded as he talked, and I could tell that this was wearing on him. “I’ll tell you one thing, I hope that LW Pruitt gets this Fairy Registration Act passed. It would make things a lot easier on us.”

  “I can’t imagine that will ever happen. The vampires will vote with her, but she will never get the mermaids.”

  “We’ll see,” he replied looking out over the water.

  “I’m happy you are here,” I commented, hoping to bring him out of his worries.

  He smiled at me again. “Yeah,” he replied. Before speaking again, he checked to make sure that no one was in earshot. “You know you scared me half to death that night at Lady Apollonia’s. When we spell traveled into the room and saw you there, all I could think was how bad Brigid was going to hurt me if something happened to you.”