Caution: Witch In Progress

by Lynne North

  Gertie thought the class was turning into a bit of a shambles. Clawd’s rat had turned away from the crystal ball in front of him with a shudder. The pessimistic rat was probably seeing an image of the Grim Reaper. Killer, the praying mantis, was keeping well away from Nastassia’s crystal ball. He looked like he was thinking, you’re not putting me in that tiny glass thing!

  Miss Gory looked back across the room, and Gertie followed her gaze. Bertha was falling asleep again. Her dog was already sleeping on the desk, misting up her crystal ball by wetly breathing on it.

  It was then that Gertie turned back to her crystal ball, and a radiant (rather unwitch-like) smile covered her face. She was soon smiling and waving excitedly into her crystal ball.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gertie awoke the next day with a light-hearted feeling inside. It wasn’t long before she remembered the reason why. She had contacted Ma and Gran! It was strange, but Gertie wasn’t quite sure how she had finally achieved it. She’d been trying so hard, but not getting very far. Somehow, she then drifted in her mind. She wasn’t even aware of the classroom around her any more. It was almost as if she had left her physical body behind, and travelled home through the cool air.

  There was Ma in their cottage. Gertie saw her as plainly as she would have if looking through the window at home. She saw her more clearly actually, because no cobwebs blocked her view this time. At that point, Ma seemed to sense Gertie’s presence. She turned quickly to her own crystal ball. From then on, the contact was made.

  Though Gertie couldn’t hear what Ma was saying, the young witch felt she knew in her mind. It was wonderful. Rather than doubt if she would be able to do it again, Gertie simply believed she could. As she had been told, belief in what she could do was half the battle. Gertie would never again feel so far away from Ma and Gran. She could now see them at any time.

  Gertie found herself looking in at the cottage a bit too often in those first few days of her new found skill. Indeed, it was beginning to distract her from her studies more than a little. The young witch knew how important it was for her to do well, so she finally settled down to checking in with Ma once a day at a given time. In that way, Ma would not need to think she had to be in all the time just in case Gertie called. Gertie realised that would be unfair. She felt sure, when she thought about it, that Ma had sat by her crystal ball for hours at a time, just in case. Ma wouldn’t miss a call from Gertie for anything in the world. So, the time for their contact was six pm each day. That was enough. Unless there was something special Gertie wanted to contact home for, of course.

  The trainee witch knew she had to give as much time as possible to her impending Presentation. More urgently still, she needed to think about her Levitation and Broomstick Flying class. Flying a broomstick didn’t sound very straightforward, and Gertie knew what she was like for letting her mind wander. While gazing at the crystal ball, maybe it helped. While flying up in the air however, the result might not be so beneficial. She went to sleep that night with thoughts of plummeting from great heights, and broomsticks with minds of their own. She wasn’t looking forward to it one bit.

  The day dawned bright and early. Almost before the witches and warlocks had time for any more thoughts about their new class, they were outside the Academy clutching their new broomsticks. The dew was still fresh on the grass, and there was a definite early morning chill in the air. Gertie pulled her cloak more tightly around herself as she listened to Miss Black. All the pupils stood around the teacher in a big circle. She turned to address them all, speaking loudly and clearly so her voice carried across the moor to each of them even when her back was turned.

  All the familiars stood, sat, slithered or hovered around. It was quite a sight for anyone to see. Any normal people viewing the scene would probably have been quite scared. Especially when Miss Black lightly mounted her broomstick, and hovered a little way above the ground. She was giving the pupils an example of what she would like them to achieve today. She made it look so easy, but anything was easy if you knew how to do it!

  Gertie didn’t think she would ever master broomstick flying with such an easy confidence, but she would certainly give it her best shot. Her broomstick looked nice anyway. It felt comfortable in her hand. That was a good start.

  Before long, Miss Black fell silent, and made one last turn on her broomstick to look at them all.

  ‘Your broomsticks look quite adequate. I hope you chose your wood carefully, and according to instructions.’ Miss Black seemed to address this last comment to Fang, who looked away. Gertie remembered Miss Fiendish had thought Fang’s branches looked too new to be fallen ones. The young witch wondered if her favourite teacher had told Miss Black about it. Not that Fang seemed particularly bothered. Everyone knew he did whatever he felt like doing, with no regard for anyone else or the consequences.

  ‘Don’t forget to ask your familiars to help you,’ Miss Black suggested. ‘As you have not yet learned the Holding Spell to keep them safe on your broomsticks however, hang on to any non flyers very carefully. Better still, if you wish, leave them on the ground while you practice. We don’t want them to have to learn to fly very quickly, now do we?’

  Some of the pupils sniggered and looked at their familiars. Diablo’s green feline eyes gave Malicia a look that clearly said, ‘Don’t worry. There is absolutely no way I would get on that thing with you. Even if I do have seven lives left.’

  Charlie the chameleon sat on the broom Ghoul was holding out in front of himself. He was red. The chameleon that is, not Ghoul. It was probably the nearest he could get to wood colour. Ghoul looked quite proud of his efforts. He had actually stayed with the colour for more than a few seconds too! Ghoul reached over to pick up the small chameleon, and placed him carefully into one of the huge pockets in his cloak.

  All cloaks had spacious pockets, because witches had so much to carry around with them. They were always collecting at least some ingredient or other.

  ‘You’ll be safe there, little fellow,’ Gertie heard Ghoul say as he patted Charlie on his scaly head.

  Victor the vulture looked more than a little disappointed that the familiars would not be going up in the air with the witches and warlocks. From what Gertie knew about him, he would have been more than ready to scrape any of them up if they did plummet to earth from great heights. He might even have offered them a helpful push, given half a chance.

  All the familiars seemed to have picked up on the gist of what was going on. The bird familiars were the least troubled. They didn’t seem to see what all the fuss was about. Learn to fly? Easy! They wouldn’t fall to earth. If any of the broomsticks actually left the ground. That was still debatable.

  ‘Now, remember what you have all learned in levitation class,’ concluded Miss Black, ‘and try to get your broomsticks to hover. I don’t want anyone trying to fly high. Do you hear me, Fang?’

  Fang curled his lip. As far as his protruding fangs would allow.

  ‘A hover, no higher than I am now, is what you are aiming for,’ Miss Black stressed. ‘What I want you all to begin with is placing your broomsticks on the ground, and then make them levitate a few inches into the air. Once you can all master that, then we will consider sitting on them.’

  It suited Gertie. She was in no rush to sit on hers.

  ‘Off you all go then, give it your best stare!’

  Bertha had said she didn’t expect much of a problem in this class. After all, she was very well practiced in levitation. She used it all the time now so she didn’t have to get up to go for things. She had them all coming to her instead. It was nice to know she had at least learned one useful thing at the Academy.

  Gertie saw her drop her broomstick to the ground, because she would have had an awful problem trying to bend down to put it there.

  Bertha then calmly stared at it, with no doubt whatsoever in her eyes that it would rise. The front end gave a quiver, and left the ground almost right away. Bertha squinted at it a little harder. The
object was heavier than she was used to. A full gateau had been about the biggest thing Gertie had seen her try previously.

  The front of the broom rose higher, and looked as if it was trying to aim for her mouth. That was definitely not the desired effect this time. Gertie got a bit worried for her. Jasper lifted his head from his paws to look at the waving broom handle, and decided to give it a bit of a chew. Bertha curled her lip, losing some of her interest already.

  ‘What’s the point of levitating something you can’t eat?’ she asked.

  Her broomstick, with the end still clamped in Jasper’s jaws, gave up the will and flopped to the ground again in disgust.

  Gertie was surprised by Bertha’s failed attempts. If her friend couldn’t do it with her levitation skills, then what hope did Gertie have? Well, she had to try.

  Gertie placed her broomstick gently onto the ground, and stared at it in a sort of pleading way. It ignored her. Owl fluttered about in front of his young witch, almost as if he was trying to show the broom how to fly. That’s what Gertie believed anyway. Poor Owl probably couldn’t even see the broomstick. Gertie always liked to think the best of him. He would help, if he could. Knowing even Owl was depending on her success, Gertie tried again. She tried harder, and harder.

  Just think of the pencil, she said to herself. Miss Black says it’s only the same, and I can levitate that now. Well, a bit anyway.

  There! She saw the broomstick give a definite quiver. Clapping her hands, Gertie gave it her all. Her broomstick moved, quite fast actually. What it did though was proceed to bury itself into the ground sending mud flying in all directions. Gertie, and everyone near her, got splattered.

  ‘Gertie!’ called Miss Black, rubbing the mud from her cheek. ‘Try to pay attention. Can’t you see your broomstick is upside down?’

  ‘Upside down, Miss?’ asked Gertie, looking at her partly submerged broom.

  ‘Yes,’ replied the teacher coming nearer. ‘Can’t you see by the way the bristles bend?’

  Gertie couldn’t, but she extracted her broom from the ground anyway. She stood, feeling dejected as she tried to shake and brush some of the mud off.

  Miss Black took pity on her.‘It’s not that bad, Gertie,’ she said. ‘At least it moved. Place it down again, this way,’ she added, taking hold of the broom and placing it for Gertie.

  If the young witch thought about it, she supposed the bristles did bend in a certain way.

  ‘Now, try again!’

  ‘Thank you, Miss,’ said Gertie, trying to hide her embarrassment.

  Fang was laughing so hard, he bent double. Of all people, Gertie wished he hadn’t seen her. She knew he now had something else to spread around the village on their return. Gertie didn’t understand why anyone could be so nasty. Following a disapproving glance from the teacher, Fang turned back to his own broomstick.

  From the look on his face now, it was obvious he had decided to be smart. His broom began to hover all too quickly for Gertie’s liking. Her broomstick was achieving a quiver at least in the right direction, but was struggling. Looking around, Gertie could see a few brooms were actually hovering off the ground already. Ghoul looked delighted with himself, and pulled Charlie back out of his pocket to take a look. Malicia smiled smugly as her broom twirled in front of her. Gertie looked back at Fang.

  Once his broomstick had reached a sufficient height, ignoring what they had been told, Fang sat astride it. He checked that Miss Black’s back was still to him, and then muttered something under his breath. With that, he zoomed up into the air in a rush of wind! The teacher turned quickly around from advising Wanda, and shouted out. Fang just laughed as he hurtled through the air at quite a height. Some of the other pupils looked impressed, while others were clearly jealous of Fang’s achievement. Malicia ‘Oooohed’ in appreciation.

  Gertie stared after the young warlock, open-mouthed. Maybe for once, Fang had actually been studying a subject. Gertie had seen him in the library, alone in a corner, once or twice. She had also noticed he hid his book from anyone who walked near, so they wouldn’t know what he was reading.

  Everyone was staring up at Fang now, but many of the ‘Oooohs’ were beginning to turn to shrieks. Mainly Fang’s. All of a sudden, he seemed to completely lose control of his broomstick. It whooshed this way and that as if trying to throw him off! Fang hung on, shrieking like a big girl. Left, right, and upside down he flew, clinging on for his life. Miss Black took chase on her broom, but couldn’t keep up with the crazy twists and turns of Fang’s frantic ride.

  By the time the terrified warlock was dumped off his broom into a thorny bush, he had fortunately flown lower. Apart from a few scratches, the only thing really hurt seemed to be his pride. It was a very big thing to hurt.

  Miss Black landed and rushed over to check if Fang was alright. She then proceeded to severely scold him. As he clambered from the bush and brushed at his cloak, the still flying broom swooped down on him! Fang ducked, and the wayward broom gave him a whack across the back of his bullet shaped head with its brush end. It then flew off, probably never to be seen again.

  ‘That’s what you get,’ Miss Black explained a little smugly to all the pupils, ‘for tearing living wood from a healthy tree.’

  ‘But I…’ began Fang.

  ‘No buts,’ interrupted the angry teacher. ‘I think we have all heard enough from you today. You were all warned about the dangers of damaging trees, and you, boy, chose to ignore the warning. Well, now you know why. The spirit of the living tree you damaged has got its own back. You will have to get another broomstick made, of the correct wood, before you can try again. Meanwhile, sit over there where I can keep an eye on you!’

  Fang slunk away, head down. It was his turn to look thoroughly humiliated. He obviously didn’t enjoy it one bit.

  After all the excitement, the others found it a bit difficult to get back to what they had been doing. Gertie knew she should have felt smug about Fang, but she didn’t. After all, that would have made her as bad as him, wouldn’t it? She ignored his scowling face, and concentrated on her broom. Everyone else did the same, quietly. Miss Black was watching them all like a hawk, or even like Sly’s vulture! No one else was going to misbehave in her class. Everyone knew better than to even think about it. In fact, they all tried even harder to do as they were told.

  Broomsticks wavered, broomsticks rose. Miss Black looked encouraged and walked around giving words of advice on keeping the brooms steady, and maintaining their lift. Gertie was so excited when her broom reached the height of her knees that she forgot all about Fang. This was what being at the Academy was all about!

  By the end of the morning, Miss Black had allowed them all to sit on their broomsticks at waist height, and propel themselves a very short distance forwards. They did this one at a time, while the teacher stood closely beside them.

  Bertha flew the few feet with a look of complete boredom on her face. Gertie knew she was wondering when they would break for lunch.

  When Gertie’s turn came, she was almost too excited to sit still. She wobbled a bit, and Miss Black reached to catch her should she begin to fall. There was no need. Gertie righted herself, and concentrated with all her might. The short distance she flew felt like the best broomstick ride she had ever been on.

  As soon as class broke up, Gertie rushed back to her room. If ever there was an important time for an extra call to Ma and Gran, this was it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Even Bat was full of Gertie’s broomstick flying class. He hadn’t forgotten Gertie had promised to take him for rides with her. He had chatted about nothing else since he watched the class through the window, and saw Gertie take her first short, low ride.

  When Gertie woke up next morning, she wondered if Bat had shut up about it at all in the night, because he was still muttering away to himself. Owl came in through the open window, and paused to peer very closely at the strange umbrella that was making a noise. Not understanding what he was looking at, ev
en so close up, he tapped the wooden head with his beak.

  ‘Heeeeelp!’ yelled Bat. ‘Call off your Owl, old pal, he’ll have me out the window!’

  Gertie shot out of bed and dashed over to him. A scratch behind his left ear soon got Owl’s full attention. He then headed over to his log for a snooze following another busy night’s exploring.

  ‘He wouldn’t hurt you on purpose,’ Gertie said to Bat.

  ‘Well, no, I guess not,’ replied the umbrella in a worried voice, ‘but, sheeesh, my whole life flashed before my eyes! Not that there’s much to flash, but you know what I mean. Hey, are we, I mean you, flying again today?’ And on he went. Gertie had forgotten what it was like to have her room quiet.

  One more new class remained before the pupils would be given more free time to prepare their Presentation. This would be the Fire Spell class. Gertie was used to getting her wall torches to light now, but she knew they had special spells placed on them to make it easy. The class was to teach them the basics of producing fire, and controlling it.

  Thoughts of fire always took Gertie’s mind back to the incident with Grothilde’s barn. In a way, it was good she had been able to make fire at all, and at such a distance! Still, the fact remained it had been well out of her control. Gertie hadn’t been brave enough to try forming fire since. She was afraid what she might unwittingly set ablaze. Soon however, she would have to do it again. The class was fortunately being held out on the blasted heath at the site of the bonfires the older pupils had at times. Surely there wouldn’t be anything she could accidentally set on fire there? Gertie hoped not.

  It would be a hectic last few weeks. Maybe Gertie’s last weeks ever at the Academy. The young witch wasn’t sure whether she would be back for another term or not. She wouldn’t be given the chance if she didn’t pass this term anyway. Gertie decided not to think about the future until she was through this term. She must pass, for Ma and Gran, but also to prove something to herself. Gertie needed to believe, really believe, she was a witch. She wanted to feel like a true Grimthorpe. It was a name to be proud of in the village.