The Witch's Diary

by Rebecca Brae

  Sam seemed surprised that my broom explanation made sense, so I left it at that. Delving into the philosophical debates from my college days about brooms being created from earth elements (i.e. wood) and used to cleanse homes of other earth elements (i.e. dirt), thereby using an element to restore balance to itself—a concept touted as a basic tenet of witchcraft (for some, at least)—would have just muddied the water (pun intended . . . hey, at least I can make myself smile). He probably wouldn’t have been interested anyway. I was only ever marginally interested myself. I’ve never had much patience for theory or philosophy. I’m a doer, not a talker. On occasion, I miss our dorm’s late-night debates over warmed fermented ghoul eyes. A few eyeballs in and the discussions always got more interesting.

  I brought up my witch’s banquet idea while Sam was relaxed and receptive. He was interested but hesitant because of the numerous Outerplane laws governing food preparation and sale. He promised to look into how difficult it would be to get the necessary permits on our various stops (apparently, we need permission from each town we work in). We already have stands where customers can buy snacks and drinks, but he said that is handled differently as those are pre-packaged. The fetid sulphurous stench of the Infernals is all over this. Sniff closely at anything overly complicated and you generally find they’re involved.

  As difficult as I’m finding it to navigate this strange plane, my companions have adjusted smoothly. Herman is usually somewhere near Kamal (at least it makes him easy to find). He even helped with Kamal’s magic show, though I noticed he was not pulled out of any hats. Bob hangs out here and there, usually somewhere in the House of Horrors. He’s having fun terrifying our patrons by randomly changing positions and facial expressions while nobody is looking. One minute they see a gargoyle with an exaggerated smile across the room and the next it’s beside them baring its teeth. I find his game amusing, but gargoyles are yet another creature considered too scary here. I fear I will never understand the Outerplane.

  There is one developing rivalry which is occasionally annoying. Mostly it’s amusing, so I’m leaving it be for now. Monkey the raven has a fondness for Bob’s bejewelled wand and is constantly flying off with it. I’m sure Bob is frustrated. I heard Monkey squawking up a storm the other day and found him locked in a wooden trunk with Bob sitting on top. His stony expression conveyed innocence, but I knew better.

  Wendias, Nettle Moon 24, 209

  WE’RE JUMPING AGAIN. I’m still travelling with Asena in her motorhome, as it is less terrifying than the alternatives. We should arrive at our new location tomorrow.

  Kamal and I rounded up all the spiders from the House of Horrors and released them. To ensure there were no stragglers, we had to clear out all their beautiful webs. Rebuilding our collection and casting the spell at every stop will be a pain, but I can’t see the spiders being okay with the carnival’s constant relocations. And I’d have to collect them and find somewhere to store them during transport anyway. I briefly broached the subject with Sam. His horrified expression suggested it wasn’t a good idea. It’s a shame. I’ll miss them. It’s hard to be lonely with a hundred spider families hanging around.

  I think I’m homesick. I received a letter from Magda this morn before we left. She’s doing fine. Still working. Her annoying co-workers have backed off—a prudent choice. I miss her and Missera so much. And real ale. There is a drink here called ale, but you might as well order water for all its flavour. There aren’t even any floaty bits in it! Bah. The drinks selection in general is depressing. I haven’t found anything half as delicious as fermented ghoul eyes. At least I have my mead . . . or I will as soon as my jug finishes aging. I’m still working on a way to speed fermentation up. I’ve replaced the blown jug and started a new batch. No explosions, yet.

  My research into what is scary on the Outerplane led to some bizarre discoveries. My co-workers helped, sharing tales of allegedly frightening mystical beings from their homelands—turns out many of the troupe are not originally from this landmass.

  Perhaps that’s why they are so kind and understanding. They know how it feels to be somewhere unfamiliar. It could also explain why they don’t react strongly to new or weird things, like a carnivore bunny or armadillo Herman. I wonder if everything seemed as strange to them when they first came as it does to me?

  Their fearsome tales are quite interesting and some of the villains are familiar. I suspect a good deal of folklore comes from extraplanar creatures either becoming stuck here (like me) or simply vacationing here.

  Sam has been an incredible help with the House of Horrors. Not only did he spook the place up, he found a way to keep it genuinely scary. Instead of taming down the horror, which seemed counter-intuitive given the name, he posted a sign outside stating it was an adult only attraction. Brilliant and so simple!

  Of course, youngsters being youngsters, they keep trying to get in, so he watches the entrance and shoos away any kids without adult guardians. Apparently, they can come in as long as they are with someone over eighteen and are aware of the terror level. It seems overly complicated. I didn’t ask him to elaborate on the reasoning as I assumed it would only deepen my confusion. If anyone complains, he told me to say they should “use this as a learning opportunity about heeding posted warnings.” It’s more diplomatic than I’d normally be, but I’ll take his advice since he has experience dealing with Outerplane denizens.

  Monkey has taken to hiding in the House of Horrors. He enjoys cawing and swooping at people from dark places. At first, I thought he was just being helpful. Then I discovered his ulterior motive: His victims tend to drop whatever they’re holding when startled. He’s amassed an impressive collection of pilfered and abandoned items. It’s quite the scheme. If I were a suspicious witch, I’d say Herman had a hand in it, but I can’t prove anything. Yet.

  Usually, whatever’s abandoned is of little value, such as candy wrappers or those silly wizard devices people use instead of scry mirrors (good riddance, I say), but I do find the occasional bit of paper currency or more important stuff like Bob’s wand. Sometimes, there’s an earring or one of the mechanical time devices they wear on their wrists. This is mainly why I suspect Herman. How does someone accidently drop either of those? They should be attached. But I don’t know how Monkey or Herman could remove them without the person noticing, so we’re at a stalemate.

  I have one amazing success to report on the magick front. I finally cast a transmutation spell! On the Outerplane! My witchiness knows no bounds!

  My success is probably due to the sheer number of times I’ve cast the spell, courtesy of Herman’s indecision. It’s a thousand times more complicated here, and it took two full moon nights to top up the power in my crystals, but I did it. Next time it’ll be harder as the crystals won’t have any leftover charge from the moor storms. One transmutation completely drained them. All seven of them! Yikes!

  Herman was happy with his new form, at least for a day or so. He chose an Outerplane creature called a panda. He was tired of being small and somehow got it into his head that they were accomplished in martial arts. I had to research pandas to set the form for the spell and warned him that I hadn’t come across anything suggesting they had martial talents. He ignored me, as usual, and now he has to deal with the consequences. It’ll be a while before I’m able to collect enough power to do another transmutation.

  Turns out, pandas are not martially skilled. At all. Big surprise. It was quite amusing watching him trying to attack things. Mostly, he ended up climbing them. Climbing appears to be their foremost skill, that and being roly-poly and fluffy. Everyone at the carnival, patrons and co-workers alike, thinks he is adorable. They keep trying to rub his tummy and hug him. I say “trying” because he does have rather dangerous-looking teeth that he bares if anyone comes close (except Kamal . . . apparently, he alone gets panda hugs). But, hey, pandas are larger than armadillos, so at least one of his wishes was fulfilled. I pointed that out, but I don’t think it made him feel bett
er.

  He’s gone back to grumbling about all the good animals being off-limits. I actually caught him trying to eat my copy of the WU familiar list. He said he was angry at it and it just happened. Panda wrestling is surprisingly difficult.

  I think Herman is having an identity crisis. He hasn’t been happy with any of his new forms. Something always doesn’t feel right or isn’t good enough. I don’t know where to go from here. He is depressed, and a mopey panda is seriously pathetic looking.

  My co-workers were initially surprised to find a panda wandering the camp. I couldn’t explain to them that I’d cast a spell to transmute armadillo Herman into panda Herman, but I did get across that the panda’s name was Herman and that the armadillo was gone. Not sure what they made of that. So far, they appear to have accepted it and there haven’t been any cough-worthy questions.

  Sam was the only one to express concern. Pandas are considered wild animals and aren’t native to this landmass. After he confirmed panda Herman wasn’t in distress or a threat to anyone, he gave me a stern lecture on why keeping wild animals in confinement, nowhere near their native habitats or other members of their species, isn’t in the animal’s best interest. I’m afraid I got a bit stroppy and told him the panda and I were a package deal. If the panda went, so did I.

  He hummed and hawed and grumped, and then told me to keep Herman in the House of Horrors while patrons are on the grounds and pretend he’s an animatronic creature. I was prepared to object on my familiar’s behalf until I heard his reasoning. Foreign animals require expensive and hard to obtain special permits (haha . . . if only he knew how foreign we are). He didn’t want the carnival fined and Herman taken away if a customer notified the authorities. I readily agreed. That scenario wouldn’t end well. If anyone tried to take Herman away, I’d be predicting their very short future with their own entrails. Navigating Outerplane customs and laws is trickier than I could have imagined.

  NOTE: Restrict Herman to native species of this landmass for next transmutation. Hoo-boy! He’s going to be pissed.

  Sam was more vehement than he needed to be and later apologized. He’s strict about animal companions because it’s important to him that everyone with Karneval Života, human or otherwise, is there by choice and treated with equal care and respect. There are other carnivals that keep animals in deplorable conditions, bad enough that he considers it torture. Those carnivals give everyone else in the business a bad name. He said you can always tell the quality of a person by how they treat animals and enemies—an interesting thought.

  I wonder what Sam would think of me cursing my ex-boyfriend and his mother? Truth be told, they deserved far worse than buggy reflections, but I stand by my hex. It was an elegant solution.

  I completely understand where Sam’s sentiment comes from though. Humans are one of the cruellest, if not the cruellest, creatures on my plane. As a witch, I do my best to keep the balance, not just between the elements in the world, but also between the opposing forces within myself—kindness and cruelty, empathy and selfishness, passion and apathy, etc. There’s so many. No one aspect can exist without its opposing force, so they must all be carefully tended to ensure there is no overgrowth. Some days, that balance is harder to strike.

  Great Goddess, I’m getting philosophical about witchcraft again. I am definitely homesick. Magda and I used to have such interesting late-night chats.

  Get back on topic, Hester! Where was I? Right. Sam’s problem with panda Herman. He doesn’t think the carnival lifestyle is a good fit for a panda, but he’s willing to try it for a while.

  I think he’ll come around. I saw him scratching Herman’s back while we were at a rest stop this morning. I felt bad because I had been incapacitated from laughing at Herman’s stretching and somersaulting antics as he tried to deal with the itch himself. Pandas are ridiculous creatures. Perhaps it’s because Herman isn’t used to his new form, but he’s extremely clumsy and his bum wiggles in a most amusing way when he walks.

  He’s sweet and kind-hearted . . . Sam, not my depressed and grumpy panda. I enjoy his straightforward nature. If there’s a problem, he tells you. But he doesn’t just leave it at that. He explains why it’s a problem, listens, and does his best to help solve it. He’s a good boss. Ha! I had to travel to the Outerplane to find one. That’s sad. Well, Andreas was okay. I just wasn’t cut out for Moonbrews.

  Asena keeps casually mentioning that Sam is unattached. I eventually figured out that it means he’s not romantically involved with anyone—yet another confusing saying that left me wondering what he used to be stuck to. She’s trying to spur me into asking him if he’s interested in a romp, but things are complicated enough right now. Not that I don’t find him attractive. The timing just sucks.

  It is tempting. I’d finally get to run my fingers through all that luscious hair. He must use scented oils when he bathes. He always smells of peppermint and lemons.

  ADDENDUM: I received a letter just as I was getting ready for bed. I wasn’t able to open it right away because I had to collect my tent and stuff from a neighbouring field. Air elementals from my plane are way overpowered. After assuring everyone that the freak twister had not damaged Herman or myself, we set everything back up, and I am now sitting on my cot staring at the tightly rolled scroll. It’s soggy, so I know exactly who it’s from and I’m scared.

  ADDENDUM II: I’m still staring at it. What if Ouleah says my job can’t be accredited? Then you’ll deal with it, Hester. Great, now I’m talking to myself in a diary in third person. I’d better open this thing before I totally lose my mind.

  ADDENDUM III: Okay. Ouleah is optimistic that she can make this job sound acceptable to the WU Placement Accreditation Department. And she’s going to put a rush on it. She can be quite persuasive, so . . . maybe. I’m not celebrating yet as she said there might be some blockers to deal with. She’s going to keep me advised of the status and forward any requests for information to me as soon as she receives them.

  Wendias, Lotus Moon 3, 209

  WELL, MAGDA’S MONTH of reflection is up and she is a star! I purposefully avoided asking about her job in my letters as I didn’t want to push her, but my worry was unfounded. Not only did she make it through her massive project, she landed the promotion! She credits her team, in her typical humble way, but she was the one leading them.

  Magda still isn’t sure if she wants to work there long term, but she’s going to stay for now. She really loves experimenting with potions and curses, so as long as she can still do that, I’m certain she’ll feel at home in her new position.

  I can’t convey how relieved I am to hear that she’s recovered her confidence. She’s my best friend. I love her dearly and only want her to be happy. Wherever her passions take her, she’ll always have my full support.

  On an interesting note, she mentioned that my Witch Jar caught a curse. I’m unsure if hexes from my plane transfer here, but I feel incredibly lucky all the same.

  I guess Justin and his mother figured out who was responsible for their buggy reflections. Man, I wish I could have seen their faces when they first saw themselves in a mirror. I’ll just have to close my eyes and imagine it. Maybe replay the moment a few times whenever I’m feeling low. Being wicked feels oh so good.

  So, happy news all around today. For once. I believe people on the Outerplane call that a miracle.

  Moondias, Lotus Moon 8, 209

  WE MADE IT safely to the new location. Working for Karneval Života is a whirlwind of traveling and spooking. I’m not complaining . . . much. The spooking is satisfying. The traveling, not so much. The whole time we’re camped, I exist in a low-level state of fear, knowing we’ll be jumping again in a week or two. I hope I get used to vehicles at some point.

  Our lot is on a coast this time, beside a massive body of warm, briny water. The sun is unrelenting. Even the moon blazes in its reflected light at night. I see as well on midnight rambles as I do during the day. The air is heavy and humid. It’s so hot, I’m s
urprised all the sand on the beach hasn’t turned to glass. Not my preferred environment. I’m not suited to it and neither are my robes. I’ll have to invest in new ones if the climate doesn’t improve. I can honestly say I miss the dark and chill of Mother’s moors.

  We’re on the outskirts of a huge metropolis and there are people everywhere. Everywhere. The carnival is bursting with them, especially the House of Horrors. I guess it’s good because that was my goal and I do enjoy scaring them. But also bad because I dislike people . . . which leads me back to the good part because I get to do my utmost to make them run away screaming. So, on the whole, that probably makes it good. Sigh.

  Sam is working hard to market the carnival on something called “on line boards.” He tried describing them to me. Much of what he said made no sense, but I think they are similar to group scrying sessions.

  He also made a slight change to how we do things. During the day, the carnival is open to children, but at night after the big top show, it switches to adult only. That way I’m free to let loose with the horror, and it seems to be boosting interest in my Witch’s Feast, which is now up and running (not literally . . . Outerplane people tend to turn their nose up at food that’s still moving).

  I decided to host two sit-down suppers and I’m glad I did. I’ve been sold-out every night. Trying out family recipes and creating menus is keeping me busy.