by Lynne North
Lucyfer had brought her myna bird, with its beak gagged by a black silk cloth. Gertie knew why, as she had come across Minx before.
About the most alarming familiar there, to Gertie anyway, was Sly’s vulture. It was a small variety of vulture, black with silvery-white patches near its wing tips, but it still looked quite fearsome compared to the other familiars in the room. Gertie knew vultures had a nasty habit of waiting for things to die, because they ate dead things. She had also heard that Victor soon got tired of waiting, so had a habit of helping little things on their way. She didn’t like Victor at all. Especially the way he seemed to be assessing each other creature in the room as a potential next meal.
Mr Daemon didn’t appear to be in any rush to start the lesson. He looked around at everyone and waited patiently until they all settled down, pupils and familiars alike.
Finally, everyone grew bored with looking around at everyone else’s creatures, and turned their attention to the new teacher.
‘He looks too old to teach,’ muttered Fang to Malicia. ‘Bet he sleeps through half the class.’
Mr Daemon looked over at Fang, and the young warlock must have got the awful feeling that he had heard him, or simply knew what he had said. He turned the brightest shade of red.
Mr Daemon finally addressed the class.
‘Well hello, my eager young witches and warlocks. Welcome to your first Familiars class. I’m pleased to see you have all remembered to bring your friends,’ he paused with a rather pointy toothed grin. ‘I, as I think most of you already know, am Mr Daemon, the oldest tutor at the Academy,’ he added, looking right at Fang. ‘Do not let my appearance fool you. I am still a very competent warlock. Probably more so now if truth be known, than I was in my youth. You see, now I have many years of experience to add to my learned skills.’ He paused to look at them all in turn, as if assessing them by look alone. ‘This,’ he continued ‘is my familiar, Albert.’ Mr Daemon waved his hand towards the old gray cat sat on his desk, ignoring everyone. ‘Do not underestimate Albert either, even though I am sure he is the oldest familiar at the Academy. He still has all his wits about him, and is a very fine familiar.’
‘Who in the right mind would call a familiar, Albert’ Gertie heard Fang mutter under his breath. He then clearly wished he hadn’t as Mr Daemon and Albert turned to look at him.
Finally looking back at the class as a whole, Mr Daemon continued to speak. Albert kept a steady stare on Fang, which seemed to unnerve him.
‘As you will have noticed, your creatures are all behaving quite well together.’
A murmur of agreement went around the classroom. Gertie had been surprised about the behaviour of their familiars.
‘That is because I cast a calming spell on each and every one as you brought them into the room,’ Mr Daemon went on. ‘It is not a lasting effect, and will do them no harm. It is simply to get them a little used to each other in the first instance. Next time they all meet up, they will not be as agitated by each other.’
‘I knew it must be something like that!’ whispered Gertie to Bertha.
Bertha looked like she had been struck by the calming spell herself. She appeared half asleep.
‘Well then,’ announced Mr Daemon. ‘If we are all settled in now; let the lesson begin!’
Gertie leaned forward in her seat in anticipation. She was beginning to think she would enjoy this lesson. At that point however, Owl fell off her shoulder. He squawked, poked her in the eye with his flapping wing, and landed heavily on her desk. Everyone who saw it laughed, apart from Mr Daemon who quietened them down and asked if Owl was alright. Gertie was so busy trying to calm Owl and gently stroking him that she didn’t reply.
She then became aware that Mr Daemon was watching her with a faraway look in his eyes.
‘I think we have a natural,’ he saw him mouth, almost too quietly for anyone to hear.
He then asked Gertie again if Owl was alright. This time Gertie replied that Owl seemed fine. Owl bumped himself so often, she explained, he was used to it. ‘Poor Owl,’ she said, ‘It’s all because of his sight. I wish I could do something to help him.’
Gertie missed the next few minutes of the class, as an idea began to form in her mind.
Chapter Fifteen
Mr Daemon looked carefully at each young witch and warlock in turn. Somehow, it felt like a very probing look to Gertie. It seemed as if the teacher was trying to peer inside them all, rather than at them. It was obvious everyone felt as uncomfortable as Gertie did, because she saw a few of the other pupils actually shudder as Mr Daemon’s gaze passed from them. To her surprise, no one spoke.
Finally, Mr Daemon broke the silence.
‘Well now,’ he began. ‘I can see no obvious reasons in any of you to suggest you will not be fit to own a familiar. Some of you will gain more of a friendship and a connection to your familiars than others, but no one here has a nature that makes them cruel to animals.’
Gertie was surprised Fang hadn’t fallen into that category. Maybe he was only cruel to people.
Some pupils looked shocked. Fang gave a sharp intake of breath.
‘What?’ asked Mr Daemon. ‘Do I surprise you? Surely not. All creatures deserve kindness, and none more so than your chosen familiars. You will yourselves be treated, in the same manner as you treat your familiars. It is advisable then, wouldn’t you say, to be kind to them.’
Gertie was still stroking Owl’s feathers. She couldn’t imagine treating him any other way. She saw Fang give Vlad a slightly alarmed stare. The bat gave him a similarly dark glare back.
Charlie was now red with yellow polka dots, and Ghoul stared at him proudly.
Bertha and Jasper began to snore in unison.
Mr Daemon’s voice rose as he continued, and Bertha jolted awake. Jasper continued to snore. After all, he wasn’t expected to listen.
‘Not every witch and warlock, as I’m sure you will have noticed, has a familiar.’
No, thought Gertie. Neither Ma nor Gran have.
‘This is a matter of personal choice,’ Mr Daemon explained. ‘Most young trainee witches and warlocks however, do have one. They find the help given by a familiar invaluable.’
Gertie stared at Owl, wondering when he would start to be amazingly helpful. Owl turned his head on one side to get in a better scratching position.
‘We recommend all trainees have one, at least until your skills improve. Your familiar will find ways to warn you of danger, as they are very sensitive to harmful intent and powers being used against you. They will also lend their own energy to your spells, if treated well. They have very close connections to psychic powers, and also, to you. You scratch his ear,’ Mr Daemon added, looking at Gertie who was doing just that, ‘and he will scratch yours, so to speak.’
Everyone was staring at their familiars in a very different way. Up to today, they had not seen them as much more than pets.
‘The bond between a witch or a warlock and their familiars is one of the strongest you will ever find,’ Mr Daemon said, keeping the attention of the whole class. ‘This is one of the reasons why some older witches and warlocks do not have familiars. The bond with their first, most important, familiar, was so strong they cannot face the thought of replacing them when the creature passes on. We all know animals do not live as long as we do, sadly. Familiars however, do live longer than normal people’s pets do. We believe this might be something to do with the strong psychic bond between master or mistress, and familiar. You will find if the first familiar is replaced, then that witch or warlock will probably keep different familiars all their lives. Albert is my third familiar, and a very fine fellow he is too.’
Albert turned his yellow eyes in Mr Daemon’s direction, and purred softly.
Gertie was taking in all the teacher was saying with the greatest of interest, and was thinking about the residents of Vile Vale. She knew Mr Daemon must be right, because both her Ma and her Gran had spoken about having a familiar when they were young,
but never another. Grothilde, on the other hand, seemed to get another every few years, or less. And it wasn’t always because she had lost them off her broomstick in full flight. Gertie was impressed. Mr Daemon did know an awful lot about familiars, and he seemed kind. She liked him. She nudged Bertha, who was beginning to snore again and distracting her. Gertie wanted to give her full attention to the teacher.
‘The most common familiars are cats, toads, owls and dogs.’ Mr Daemon was now saying. ‘But as we can all see here, almost any creature can play the part. Finding your familiar is a very personal thing. Whether you intended it or not, as you were seeking your familiar you would be sending out psychic messages. When you came across the creature that responded to your call by coming to you, I am sure you immediately felt the strongest kind of connection. A familiar can be any creature with which you feel an all important affinity.’
Quite a few pupils were nodding and staring intently at their chosen familiars. Even Fang had eye to eye contact with his. It looked more like eyes locked in a battle of wills, but at least it was some kind of connection.
Gertie thought about the dull thud that had announced Owl’s arrival as he slid down the tree trunk. Had he been rushing to her call? She thought not, but it was a nice idea. They had certainly hit it off right away. Well, as soon as he got over his concussion.
‘A witch or warlock and their familiar are like two sides of the same coin,’ Mr Daemon continued. ‘When a true bond is formed, you can read each other like a book. You know all of each other’s good and bad points, and admire each other for them all. You will even find, in time, that you know what your familiar is thinking. Your mind will communicate as surely as if you were talking together. Your familiar will know your mind much more quickly than you will theirs. They are far more able to use their psychic powers naturally than we are. Also, even though you are very unlikely to ever be able to communicate with anyone else’s familiar; they will be well able to communicate freely with each other.’
Gertie could see the truth in that by glancing around the room. Vlad had spotted Killer, and was obviously sending some terrible threats over to the praying mantis. It was all but on its knees praying at this very moment.
Diablo had taken to glaring at Clawd’s rat, which was clearly beginning to feel the sense of his own death this time.
It was only Mr Daemon’s calming spell currently keeping cat from rat, bat from praying mantis, dog from cat (though not Jasper, he was too lazy to take chase), and chameleon from spider; to name but a few. It was a very interesting lesson, all in all.
‘That leads us very nicely to our first test with our familiars.’
Everyone groaned at the word, test.
‘A little enthusiasm would be helpful,’ continued Mr Daemon. ‘This is nothing too difficult. We are going to test the strength of your psychic contact with your chosen familiar.’
Dozens of pairs of eyes stared blankly at the teacher.
‘Call it mind reading if you wish,’ Mr Daemon explained. ‘Whether you know it or not, you will have some degree of mind contact with your familiar. How often do you think of something, and your familiar immediately responds to the thought before you utter a word or make a move?’
Nods and comments showed that quite a few of the pupils had experienced it.
‘Right then, I want you to try, by thought alone, to get your familiars to do something, or to behave in a certain way. Think about it. It’s up to you what you want them to do. I shall give you a little practice time, then I will pick a few of you out to show us all what you can do.’
Gertie didn’t like the sound of that. She hated the thought of being picked out. Maybe she wouldn’t be picked. After all, she was sat right at the back, and there were a lot of pupils in the class. Owl wasn’t a very unusual familiar. Still, she had better decide what she would do. Before Gertie stared owl in the eyes and began to concentrate, she saw Mr Daemon was glancing around the room. He noticed the gag on Minx’s beak.
‘Why the gag, Lucyfer?’ he asked.
‘Minx won’t stop talking once she starts, sir,’ explained the young witch.
‘Uhm, well, surely she can’t be that bad? Take it off and let’s see,’ suggested the teacher.
‘Are you sure, sir?’ asked Lucyfer. ‘You won’t like it.’
‘Let’s try,’ repeated Mr Daemon.
Lucyfer slipped the gag from her myna’s beak. Minx stared around, but didn’t say a word.
‘You see,’ said Mr Daemon. ‘Now what’s wrong with that?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ Minx mimicked loudly.
‘Ah, I see,’ added Mr Daemon.
‘Ah, I see,’ repeated Minx.
The class all laughed. So did Minx in its own squawky way. The bird then began to sing, loudly, as she strutted around Lucyfer’s desk in her jaunty way of walking. Unfortunately, it was a rude song.
‘Oh dear,’ the teacher began…
‘Oh dear!’ squawked Minx.
‘I see what you mean, Lucyfer,’
‘See what you mean, see what you mean.’
‘Please put the gag back on, for now.’
‘Gag back on, gag back on on on on.’
Lucyfer grabbed the bird, and quickly slipped the gag around its beak. The myna gave a sigh, and settled down again. Minx was used to being gagged, frequently. She probably had no idea why.
‘I feel your first test should be to try to convince your myna bird that it doesn’t need to talk ALL the time, Lucyfer. Try concentrating very hard and see if you can get through to her mind.’
Lucyfer didn’t look very convinced, but stared hard at Minx who was currently trying to pull at the gag with a very yellow leg ending in claws.
After a while, the class was interrupted by Ghoul shrieking ‘IT WORKED!’
‘Ah, do we have a success?’ asked Mr Daemon in interest.
‘Oh yes!’ replied Ghoul with glee.
‘Right, young warlock. Can you tell us, or better still show us, what you and your chameleon can do?’
‘Well,’ began Ghoul excitedly, ‘I asked Charlie to turn green, and he did!’
‘Yes, but how many colours did he cycle through before he hit green?’ asked Fang with a sneer.
‘Eh?’ asked Ghoul. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Uhm, Fang has a point,’ agreed Mr Daemon, to the delight of Fang. ‘Sometimes, coincidence can play a part. Did your chameleon turn green soon after you started to concentrate on him turning green, Ghoul?’
‘Well, fairly quickly,’ replied Ghoul, looking a little let down now.
‘Why don’t you show us?’ asked the teacher.
Ghoul looked around, clearly wishing he hadn’t singled himself out like this, and said, ‘Okay, green.’
He stared at the purple chameleon intently. Charlie stared back. He turned orange, then red, then pink, yellow, black, blue, white, blue again but with yellow dots, lemon, then green!
‘See!’ enthused Ghoul.
Fang laughed so much he splashed everyone around him with spit.
‘Not completely conclusive, Ghoul,’ said Mr Daemon, choosing his words carefully. ‘But, a great try. Keep up the good work.’
Ghoul was delighted, and stroked Charlie’s head in affection.
‘One quick question, Ghoul,’ Mr Daemon asked with a thoughtful look on his face. ‘When you were thinking, green, did you see the word green, or did you see the colour in your mind?’
‘Uhm, I guess I thought of the word, green,’ replied Ghoul, looking puzzled.
‘Ah, now. That might be the problem. Words will mean little or nothing to your familiars as they do not communicate in the same way we do. Try again Ghoul, but this time see the colour, green. In fact, see Charlie as green, and try to communicate that thought to him.’
‘Right!’ said Ghoul with enthusiasm.
Charlie was currently staring around, probably wondering why everyone was looking at him. He turned a bright shade of pink. Out of embarrassment perh
aps.
‘Charlie, look at me,’ encouraged Ghoul. The chameleon did. Ghoul screwed up his face in concentrated effort as he stared into his chameleon’s eyes.
Charlie turned blue, then yellow, then green!
‘Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeees!’ called Ghoul, ‘It worked!’
‘Better Ghoul, much better,’ agreed Mr Daemon. ‘And that, class, is a good pointer for you all to remember. Try to think in images that will mean something to your familiars. Now, any more volunteers?’
Bertha, yes, Bertha, actually spoke.
Gertie looked at her in shock, thinking she must be talking in her sleep. No, she was actually facing Mr Daemon and was actively talking. Her usual yellow skin had taken on a pinkish tinge rather like Ghoul’s chameleon had earlier.
‘Uhm, well, I, uhm…’
‘Yes, do tell us, or indeed show us, Bertha!’ encouraged the teacher.
‘Well,’ Bertha tried again. ‘I can’t really show you, but I concentrated on asking Jasper if he would like a biscuit, and he sort of sent the thought ‘Yes’ back to me. SocanIgotomyroomandbringsomebacktorewardhim?’ Bertha concluded in a jumble of words that came out so quickly they almost ran together as one word.
‘Sorry, what was that?’ asked Mr Daemon.
‘I said, can I go to my room and bring some back to reward him, sir?’ asked Bertha more slowly, avid hope on her face.
‘Haaaaa, good try, fatty!’ jeered Fang to everyone’s amusement, except Bertha, Gertie and Mr Daemon.
‘I will have no name calling in my class, young man,’ the teacher said sternly. ‘You may show us how clever you are next.’
Addressing Bertha he continued. ‘If that communication passed between yourself and your familiar, Bertha, then it is very good. We don’t want to disrupt class with comings and goings however, so please give Jasper his reward after class.’
‘Okay,’ replied Bertha in a very small voice.
‘Right, Master Fang,’ Mr Daemon began. ‘And what are you going to amaze us all with?’
