by Lynne North
‘Be careful who you point at?’ suggested Malicia.
‘Yes, quite,’ replied the teacher. ‘You don’t want to cast your spell on the wrong person or object.’
Gertie immediately thought of Grothilde’s barn, and blushed a little. She hadn’t even had to point.
‘Anything else?’ the teacher continued.
No one offered an answer this time.
‘Alright, well, it’s a start,’ Miss Hemlock carried on. ‘Take this down.’
She turned to the blackboard again and wrote:
1) Point accurately and carefully.
2) Always have a steady hand, and a firm finger.
3) Use The Grimace to get your victim’s attention, and The Point to KEEP it.
Turning back to the class she said, ‘We have covered number one briefly, so we will consider number two. What we mean by a steady hand and a firm finger is that you will not strike fear into anyone if your hand is waving about or your finger is shaking. I knew of one young witch trying to cast her first spell with a hand that wasn’t firm. Her victim simply waved back at her, and went on his way. That was not the desired effect. So, always remember a steady hand and a firm finger. It also helps if you have a very bony, knobbly, finger to attract attention, but that isn’t a necessity.’
Gertie looked down at her little, pink, perfectly formed fingers, and breathed a sigh of relief.
‘As to number three,’ continued Miss Hemlock, ‘I know our own Mr Wolfsbane has begun to teach you the Grimace. What we need to do now is put it together with the Point. You must ensure that your victim knows you mean him or her, and what you intend to do. If the victim knows they are being pointed at, and why, then you are already half way to your spell working. You need to make them so afraid, they believe it will happen. If they believe, then it will.’
Gertie hadn’t thought of that before. She decided Miss Hemlock was very clever.
‘Now, I will demonstrate,’ Miss Hemlock was saying. She swung around quickly, with a grimace that Gran would have been proud of, and pointed meaningfully at Fang.
Fang sprang back in his chair, almost knocking it over, with a sharp intake of breath.
The teacher kept her position for a few moments, no doubt to show how firm and steady her hand and bony finger were, then lowered her hand.
‘There. That is The Point,’ Miss Hemlock concluded. ‘And that was the victim response you are aiming for. Now it is your turn. Remember the rules we have discussed, prepare your grimace, and POINT. It doesn’t matter who you point at today, as there will be no spells cast. This is simply a practice. Off you go then.’
Fang snorted, grimaced horribly, and pointed at Miss Hemlock. He was hoping to scare her as much as she had him. Everyone was stunned, but Miss Hemlock took it in her stride.
‘Uhm, not too bad for a first attempt, Fang,’ she said. ‘You almost look as if you mean it.’
‘I do,’ Gertie heard Fang hiss quietly to Malicia as the teacher turned her gaze to the other pupils.
Gertie didn’t like to point at anyone. She still had the feeling it was rude. Instead, she pointed fixedly at the Venus Flytrap on the windowsill. It didn’t look very healthy. Gertie wondered if it had eaten a poisoned fly today. Maybe it hadn’t been watered. She wished she could make it feel better.
‘Quite a steady hand,’ said Miss Hemlock who was doing her rounds of the classroom. ‘But you could certainly do with a few warts. Your grimace has slipped too, you look in a daydream. Do concentrate.’
‘Sorry,’ replied Gertie, who hadn’t realised the teacher was so close. ‘I’ll try harder.’
Miss Hemlock gave her a slight reassuring grimace, and patted Gertie’s outstretched arm. She then turned to Bertha who was huffing and puffing in a rather alarming way.
‘Whatever is the matter?’ the teacher asked.
Bertha responded by collapsing across her desk in a heap.
‘Has anyone been pointing at Bertha and casting a spell?’ asked the teacher angrily.
A flurry of denial came from the other pupils.
‘Bertha!’ called Gertie. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes,’ came the muffled voice from Bertha’s lips. They were touching her desk top at the time. Dust blew from under her head, and she suddenly sneezed, banging her head on the wood.
‘Do sit up, child, and tell me what’s wrong,’ insisted Miss Hemlock. She now seemed sure Bertha’s condition was not the cause of a curse.
Bertha did as she was told, still very flushed.
‘My arm is awfully heavy,’ Bertha said by way of explanation. ‘Especially when I’m using so much energy on my grimace at the same time. Do I really have to do both together? It makes me feel faint.’
Miss Hemlock rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘May the Black Arts help me,’ she muttered quietly. ‘I suggest arm strengthening exercises, my girl,’ she said to Bertha. ‘Or actually, any exercise would probably help. Surely you can do two things at once? I’ve seen you eating two things at the same time. Try to put the same effort equally into the Point and the Grimace.’
Bertha seemed like she was thinking about that, and soon a smile spread across her face.
Gertie decided Miss Hemlock really was clever. Bertha could do two things at once, as long as it involved eating. She was probably thinking about less strain on the grimace, and reaching for a cream cake.
Gertie saw her try again. This time she didn’t wobble quite so much. Only her flabby arm and podgy hand shook instead of her whole body. Bertha looked very pleased with herself.
Relieved her friend was happier, Gertie turned her gaze back to the plant. Actually, it didn’t look bad at all. In fact, it was waving its hairy leaves about now as if trying to grab at unsuspecting flies, rather than calmly waiting for them to land on it. It also looked much greener. Gertie decided it must have been something to do with poor lighting through the grimy window that made it look poorly before she had pointed at it. She suddenly realised she was daydreaming again, and went back to finding things to practice her point on. By the end of the lesson, she felt she had become quite good at it.
Soon after lunch, the trainee witches and warlocks found themselves back in the same classroom with Miss Hemlock. She reminded them all that she was now about to teach them The Voice.
‘The Grimace, The Point and The Voice, all used together, form the basis of any real spell,’ Miss Hemlock began.
Bertha gave a deep sigh and visibly slumped even further into her creaking seat. ‘Three things at once,’ she muttered to Gertie. ‘This is getting a bit ridiculous. I need a rest at the very thought of it.’
‘The Voice,’ continued the teacher, ‘makes your spell sound right. If it doesn’t sound right, then no one will take you seriously. What you all need to try very hard to do is to achieve a voice that sounds like thunder about to roll. Actually, it does help if you can make a storm at the same time, but that is just an extra tip. You won’t be marked on it right now.’
Gertie didn’t think she had a chance, and actually, she was right. Her voice was sweet, gentle and kind; and was more likely to lull someone to sleep than to strike fear in them. It was working on Bertha anyway, who she had turned to whisper to. The big girl’s head looked about ready to nod.
After demonstrating The Voice several times with a variety of witchy phrases, Miss Hemlock picked out several pupils to try. Gertie was so pleased she was not one of them. Bertha was however. She was shook out of the beginnings of a snore by her name being called.
Bertha’s “Voice” came out sounding like she was full of a cold and breathing heavily with the exertion. She did however manage a surprisingly good voice when Miss Hemlock said, ‘Make it personal, Bertha, think of someone threatening you or taking something that is yours.’
Bertha screwed up her face in concentration. ‘I know!’ she said, ‘I remember a dream where someone was taking my last devil cake.’
She shocked the whole room by bellowing ‘Put that down or you’ll l
ive to regret it!’
‘Excellent, Bertha!’ said Miss Hemlock in surprise. ‘Well done, girl. And you pointed at the same time. Very good!’
Bertha was delighted. ‘Oh yes! I pointed at the same time without even thinking about it. Maybe I’m becoming a real witch all of a sudden, without even trying.’
Gertie was very impressed. Maybe Bertha could give her some tips when they went back to their rooms later.
Miss Hemlock told the class it would be silly for them all to try the voice at the same time, because everyone would drown each other out. What they needed to do now was to return to their own rooms, and practice.
For the rest of the day, up and down corridors and through solid wooden doors; all that could be heard were shouts, commands, and fearsome threats. The whole Academy echoed with them. Some teachers could be seen to pause outside various rooms, nodding in approval.
Gertie didn’t hear anyone pause at her door. She was practising her Voice so quietly Owl was fast asleep and drowning out her words by his snores. Gertie didn’t want anyone to hear her, because she felt foolish. But, if she felt silly even practising, alone, how could she ever cast a real spell? Oh dear. Gertie did not like The Voice.
She was however looking forward to her next class. Miss Fiendish was going to teach them all about protective spells and antidotes.
Chapter Ten
Life in Vile Vale was going on the same as it ever did. Grothilde had disgraced herself at the Cat and Broomstick again, but there was nothing new about that. She had her excuses ready when Ma and Gran went to visit her.
‘It was Mona,’ she insisted. ‘I told ‘er I’d had enough, but she would insist on one for the road. You know what sisters are like. I should have let the road get its own. It hit me when I got outside.’
What Grothilde meant was she had ended up flat on her face outside the pub.
Ma and Gran said they hadn’t heard about Grothilde’s latest incident, but of course they had. It was one of the new talking points of the village. The other was that ‘two of our village’ are at the Academy.
Grothilde looked around, then back at Ma and Gran at the same time, even though Gran was sitting down and Ma still standing.
‘Not the same, is it?’ she asked.
‘What?’ asked Gran.
‘Without the little blighter ‘ere too. She enjoys my animated chair so much.’
‘I know,’ replied Ma, almost tearfully. ‘I miss her terribly.’
‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ replied Grothilde, looking sorry she had brought the subject up. She hadn’t wanted to upset Ma. ‘Fang is loving every minute to hear his Ma talk, and he’s doing so well. He’s made lots of new friends, and all the teachers keep praising him. He’s sure to pass with full Dishonour, he is. I’m sure Gertie will too,’ she added as an afterthought.
‘Course she will,’ snapped Gran. ‘Gertie just doesn’t brag about it as much as that little Devil does. She gets on with it.’
Grothilde smiled. She obviously hoped Gertie would do well, but she didn’t look too sure about her chances.
Ma knew Gertie seemed fine, but it didn’t stop her worrying about the little girl. Later that day back in their own home, she sat quietly in Gertie’s room for a while. Ma believed she could tell how the young witch was feeling when she sat amongst her belongings. The only impressions she received were happy ones, but she still missed Gertie. Ma opened Gertie’s wardrobe to touch some of the clothes she had left behind, only to be assailed by Bat. She had forgotten he was there.
‘Oh!’ called the umbrella. ‘So you’ve finally remembered I exist have you? About time too. A guy could die in here and not be found for months, I can tell you. Where is she, then? She forgot to take me with her, you know. She’ll be really upset. Come on, let’s get going and cheer her up. DON’T SHUT THE …door again…Blast.’
Ma went back down to Gran who was finishing off her latest shawl. It was black, and like a huge cobweb. Actually, all her shawls were black, and like huge cobwebs. Ma had decided long ago that Gran probably just enjoyed knitting them.
‘Okay?’ Gran asked, clearly seeing Ma was feeling upset.
‘Yes, I’m alright, Mother,’ replied Ma. ‘It’s just, well, it’s that Gertie is so…so…I don’t think I can say it.’
‘Go on,’ encouraged Gran.
‘Well, she’s so…sweet and innocent.’
‘SHHHH!’ hushed Gran. ‘You mustn’t let anyone else hear you say that. We’d be the laughing stock of the village. Leave that fate to Grothilde. She’s used to it.’
‘Oh, I know,’ replied Ma. ‘I only said it between us.’
‘Yes,’ answered Gran, ‘I know. She'll grow out of it. She’s only young. I still say she’ll be special, and not just because I love the little blighter so much either. You’ll see. Mark my words.’
Ma hoped she was right.
For Gertie, the days flew past. She would have hated to know Ma was upset, but the thought never crossed her mind. She thought of Ma and Gran a lot, and even had imaginary conversations with them when she wanted to tell them anything. She never felt sad though, because she knew they wanted her to come to the Academy. There was so much to see, do and learn here. Everything was so interesting, especially the library.
Gertie had always loved books, so she spent a lot of her free time amongst them. She loved to look in awe at the hundreds of volumes stacked high on the strong oak shelves. The librarian was a very quietly spoken warlock called Mr Mort. He was so pale, Gertie wondered if he ever saw light of day. He seemed to spend every minute of each day in the library. He was always there when Gertie went in, and that was a lot. At first, Gertie believed he probably slept amongst the books too. He didn’t of course. Later on Gertie found out his room was just off the library and linked by a door at the side.
Mr Mort acted as if he had grown quite fond of the strange little witch (as most people did), and always tried to answer her questions. He seemed glad of her company. A lot of students only went into the library when they had to, and got out again as quickly as they could. Gertie actually liked it, and was as fond of books as he was.
She had already been in to ask about books for her next class with Miss Fiendish, so she had learned a little about protective spells and herbs for antidotes. She felt better prepared therefore when she found herself sat in the class at last, still at the back and next to Bertha.
Miss Fiendish soon arrived, and gave the class a smile. It really did look like a smile when it came from Miss Fiendish. Gertie was sure the other teachers spent so much time grimacing they had forgotten how to smile at all.
The teacher introduced herself, and then began to explain to the class what her lessons would be about.
‘At the Academy, you will be taught all you need to know about the art of witchcraft, and the casting of spells. What might not have occurred to you at this point however is just as you are casting spells on others, so they will cast spells on you.’
‘I’d like to see anyone try,’ smirked Fang.
‘Are you so great a warlock already, that you can avert any spells cast on you, Fang?’ asked Miss Fiendish with a look of mock surprise on her face.
‘They wouldn’t dare,’ he growled.
‘Oh, really,’ replied the teacher. ‘I didn’t realise that every powerful witch and warlock in the land is so afraid of you.’
‘I meant anyone here,’ bragged Fang, but with a little hesitation.
‘Ah, I see. So, you’re never going to come up against anyone but trainee children are you?’
Fang opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Well, he closed it as much as his teeth would allow.
‘Do you see what I mean, Fang?’ asked Miss Fiendish quite pleasantly. ‘We all need to learn protective spells too. No true warlock is going to stand back and let you throw spells at him, Fang, without throwing a few back.’
Fang clearly hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t look like he relished the thought of being on the receiving e
nd at all. He sat forward to pay attention to what he had called a ‘namby pamby class’ earlier.
‘One thing you might decide you would like to wear is a pentacle,’ Miss Fiendish addressed the class again, drawing a five pointed star on the board. ‘The pentacle is traditionally a weapon of power in magic, and protects the wearer against evil spirits and demon attacks.’
Gertie scribbled madly in her notebook.
‘So, if I wear a pentacle, I will be protected against any spells cast on me?’ asked Hexa. Not one of the trainee witches and warlocks seemed to have considered spells being cast on them before.
‘Not entirely,’ replied Miss Fiendish, ‘but it would help to give you time to focus your counter spells.’
The young teacher now had the attention of the whole class. Even Bertha didn’t look quite so drowsy as usual.
‘Now, let me see,’ continued Miss Fiendish. ‘What, for example, would you do Bertha, if someone turned you into a rabbit?’
Bertha jumped at being singled out.
‘We could make a pie big enough to feed the whole school,’ muttered Fang with an evil chuckle.
Miss Fiendish silenced him with a glance.
‘Uhm, well, er, I’d probably get an uncontrollable urge to eat carrots, Miss?’ Bertha asked hopefully.
‘That’s not exactly what I had in mind,’ replied Miss Fiendish. ‘What I mean is, have you any idea how you would turn yourself back, or better still, prevent it from happening in the first place?’
‘No, Miss,’ admitted Bertha.
‘Anyone?’ asked Miss Fiendish.
No one knew the answer.
‘Well, this is why you will be attending my classes. You will learn protective spells, spell reversal, and natural remedies to ills and ailments.’
Fang groaned.
‘Is something wrong, Fang?’ asked the teacher.
‘Plants and flowers are for witches to brew,’ he complained. ‘Warlocks are too powerful to have to do that.’
‘And, if someone makes you violently sick, Fang, how powerful would you be then?’
