The Witch's Diary

by Rebecca Brae

  Which brings me to today. I hadn’t been taking my broom everywhere with me, probably because I’m less stressed (my broom has become a security crutch and I am rarely without it). It is surprising and heartening to know that I’ve settled in with the carnival well enough to feel at home in so many spots.

  Instead of being mad at myself about the hex, I choose to laugh. Old me played a hilarious trick on new me. Herman is having a good laugh, too, the rascal.

  Needless to say, I’ll be undoing the hex as soon as I have spare energy. In the meantime, I’ll endeavour to remember my broom.

  ADDENDUM: My daily elementals are multiplying. At first, I had to call new ones each morning because they would wander off while I slept. Now, the old ones are sticking around and gathering others of their kind on their own. They’re small, as powerful elementals are exceedingly rare, but I am delighted. I can save the power I was using to summon them for spells, which means less crystal charging. Yay! They mostly stay out of trouble and hang out in the House of Horrors in piles of dust, flickering candle flames, etc. My water elementals made a bit of a mess in the spider room yesterday. They redirected rain from an open window into a puddle and were gleefully playing in it when I found them. I cleaned some of it up, but left a little pool. The spiders were enjoying it too.

  Moondias, Lotus Moon 22, 209

  WELL, THAT WAS discouraging (even for a Moondias). We were almost done setting up camp at our new location when a mob of ignorant jerks decided to protest the carnival. Asena warned me it could happen, but our reception was so positive at other stops that it caught me off guard. Between the mob and the noise, it felt like I was back in the village after my unfortunate adhesive accident, hiding in my hut, about to be run out of town. Only this time things ended differently. I’m not the same witch and my employer isn’t one of the ignorant jerks waving a torch.

  I might not have blown my lid if they hadn’t picked on Kamal. He’s the youngest of us, so they probably figured he’d be the easiest to scare. Bullies are the same no matter what plane they’re on. Little did they know, of any of us Kamal is by far the most unflappable. He’s also the nicest . . . hence my rage, which my co-workers shared. I’m still shaking.

  They cornered Kamal as he was setting up the arch (our main entrance gate). Sam and Maria were nearby and intervened before the mob went too far. Sam, who’s not normally a violent person, punched one of the protesters when they grabbed Kamal’s arm.

  By the time I arrived, things were heated. The mob was hurling insults and curses, calling us Satan-spawn (I came across the Satan Outerplane creature in my research . . . sounded interesting and could be useful in the H of H) and damning us to burn in a fiery pit (for the sin of being born, apparently).

  Maria brandished her rapiers at anyone who ventured too close. Herman joined the fray, pinching legs and other bits with what can only be described as wild and abandoned glee. The protestors initially recoiled when they saw me and then redoubled their insults. I’m pleased they took particular exception to witches. Clearly, our professional reputation preceded me.

  Mobs are unpredictable and dangerous at the best of times, but this one had a distinctly noxious feel to it. My witch senses tingled in warning. We needed to disperse them quickly if we wanted to make it out with our equipment, homes, and skins intact. Problem was, they were standing between us and the majority of our vehicles.

  I reminded myself that I had stared down Infernals and had tea with a goddess, experiences which permanently raised my fright bar. This motley crew had picked the wrong witch and the wrong witch’s druid Apprentice to mess with . . . not that there’s ever a right witch to mess with. On the whole, it’s just a really bad idea unless you want to, say, end up as a bag of bones.

  The Spider Siblings heard the commotion and rode up on Ebony and Snowball. They kept the mob at bay long enough for me to duck away and secure supplies from the partially constructed House of Horrors. Although massive, our resident horses are gentle. Danica and Nikolai had trouble even getting them to bump into people and step on a few toes. They were far more tolerant than I was at being jabbed and smacked. Soon, the mob pressed in and backed us up against the arch.

  The third time an obnoxious blowhard poked me in the side with a sign that read, “Your going to Hell,” I lost it. Honestly, the spelling alone was enough to make my eyes bleed.

  Until then, I took my cue from Sam, who was mostly calmly asking everyone to back off so we could pack up and be on our way. That path would have been easier for all involved, but much less fun (to quote my favourite goddess). Really, I should thank the mob. As much as I dislike bullies (especially when they’re picking on my friends), I do love meting out some well-deserved mayhem.

  First, I secured everyone’s attention by reproducing the best, soul-shattering banshee scream I could. Then I lobbed three exploding puffballs loaded with moth dust into the crowd (I have a lifetime supply thanks to Mothlady). As people choked on the dust and rubbed it out of their eyes, I asked my air elementals to whip up an eerie breeze. They turned my hair into a snaking mass of grasping tendrils and kindly kept the dust away from us.

  Next, I summoned the army of spiders Kamal and I had collected. They flowed over the gates in a leggy wave and surged toward the mob. It was an admittedly short wave, but once I was covered in spiders, people were much more solicitous. I used the last scrap of power in my crystals to add a flash of red to my eyes and amplify my voice as I laid a chain of hexes on them. My curses, built on years of training and experience, put the mob’s trifling insults to shame. Needless to say, the research I did on Outerplane fears was of great use. I didn’t activate any of the spells, but they couldn’t tell the difference.

  The crowd was already backing away when Sam set off the wizard machine that produces realistic cracks of thunder. That pushed them over the edge. They turned and ran.

  I sent my broom after them and managed to trip a few stragglers (hooray for my fishy hex because I might not otherwise have had it with me!). Lucky for them, the most my broom could do was tangle their feet or I would have had it smack their petulant backsides all the way to town.

  We managed to tear down everything before the protesters worked up enough stupid to come back, and we are now on our way to the next location. We’ll be a week early, but Sam said it would be fine. I believe he’s concerned about having enough coin to make the journey—wizard engines guzzle expensive potions called diesel, propane, and gasoline. As long as we have enough to make it there (hopefully the coin left over from the T V show contract will cover it), we’ll just run the carnival for two weeks instead of one.

  Everyone was calm about what happened. I can’t believe they have to put up with this abuse on a regular enough basis that it isn’t notable. I’ll put a few contingency plans into place for next time. At some point, protesters will learn that bothering us isn’t worth the nightmares. Not that I can see any worth in it to begin with. Maybe being a jerk is its own reward? Whatever. It won’t seem like a reward when I get done with them.

  I’m not giving anyone a chance to repeat the vile Outerplane history I read about during my research. I stumbled across a whack of information on how witches were treated by various religious groups (magick systems reliant on the will of specific gods . . . usually only one). They used to torture false confessions out of anyone suspected of being a witch! Disgusting!

  The rarity of magick power on the Outerplane enabled this persecution. Witches are few in number and widespread as well, which made them easier to overwhelm. Especially so, once the seeds of fear and suspicion were planted in the public consciousness and witchcraft was driven underground. Neighbours pointed at each other, hoping to avoid suspicion falling on themselves for simply helping birth a child or because a cow’s milk went sour. It was mass hysteria of the ugliest kind.

  I believe the persecutions also contributed to the current wizard infestation. Traditional wizard disciplines, such as chemistry, physics, and the much-dreaded engineer
ing, thrived in this magick depleted environment. After observing Sam work (from a safe distance), I can confirm that their principles are sounder and more reproducible here than they were on my plane.

  To make matters better (for wizards), local magick systems have been warring amongst themselves for centuries. While they fought over whether magick water was better than magick cloth, wizards buggered off and did their own thing. And they’ve had the last laugh. Wizards make a fortune selling their contraptions to the groups at war, which has unfortunately encouraged all parties to carry on in the same vein.

  I’m not completely biased. I know witches and druids are capable of the same level of destruction. I just believe we’re less likely to draw enough power to accidently wipe a city off the map or alter the temperament of a wasp species so that it becomes aggressive and spreads unchecked—the occasional half-phoenix notwithstanding. Although destructive, my mistake was merely tavern-ending, not civilization-ending.

  Sam always argues the merits of wizardry during our nightly bonfire debates, regaling me with stories of their beneficial medical, farming, information sharing, and building machines. If what he says is true, and I’m inclined to believe it is as he’s been nothing but straightforward with me in every other respect, it sounds like Outerplane wizards have at least sowed as much positive creation as they have destruction. Although it pains my witchy sensibilities to admit it, maybe the type of power used isn’t the most relevant factor. Maybe how it’s used and what it’s used for is all that matters. I think Hekate said something to that effect when she talked to the sisters and me on the moors. It takes a while for lessons to sink in, but I think I might have finally gotten that one.

  For all its good parts, the Outerplane remains a dangerous place for witches. I’ll remember that after today. I’m a witch in an Age of Wizards. Good thing I have one on my side.

  Sam is a rare gem. I thanked him for his quick thinking with the thunder and he just smiled and gave me a hug. He said he should be thanking me. We were both partially right. It took all of us to get that mob to leave. We work well together. Never thought I’d say that.

  Hester Digitalis Wishbone works well with a wizard. It may even be said that she enjoys working with one.

  Every day is an unknowable adventure. What wonders and perils will tomorrow hold?

  Freydias, Thunder Moon 5, 209

  GREAT GODDESS, I’VE had a busy two weeks. There’s been so much going on that I haven’t had five spare minutes to document anything in here.

  We made it safely to our next site. A few of us secretly contributed coin to buy food for the wizard engines. They are greedy things. We didn’t tell Sam. He’s worried enough about keeping the carnival going and paying back the loan.

  We’re still on the coast, which is not so great for me because of the heat but fantastic for Herman, who never tires of gallivanting on the beaches as a coconut crab. I had to invest in some thinner fabrics, and Asena, who is skilled in robe making, made me three new witch vestments that are not only comfortable to wear, but unique and stylish. She managed to blend the aesthetic of my old robes with some common styles worn by Outerplane witches.

  I love the deep colours she used and the fabrics are light as air. The skirts flutter as if an otherworldly wind haunts my every step (though sometimes the fluttering is due to my air elementals playing . . . they also enjoy the fabric). She has sown little hidden pockets everywhere for me to store my spell components and tools (my spell pouches alone couldn’t accommodate the added Outerplane magickal component demands).

  For ease of access, I also started tying energy crystals and a few common components such as sage, raven feathers, and cedar twigs into my hair. The overall effect is quite pleasing. Even Herman approves, which is saying a lot. He has a very particular sense of fashion.

  Speaking of Herman, I’m beginning to wonder if he likes being a crab so much because it’s the closest to his original cockroach form we’ve come. I’ll give him a while longer and then broach the subject. It was never my intention to make him feel bad about who he was, but now I’m thinking that’s exactly what I did. I was so wrapped up in the insult of being assigned a familiar that wasn’t on the official union list, I didn’t stop to consider how my reaction affected him. I was unforgivably ignorant and will apologize.

  Karneval Života’s popularity is growing, which is good . . . mostly. Our appearance on the T V show has “exponentially increased our reach”—Sam’s words, not mine, and I don’t really know what he meant. He’s been approached by more T V and movie executives about using the carnival as a shooting location. There have been many meetings and dinners and lunches and drinking parties to attend and host. I’ve put on a Witch’s Feast for several batches of executives and scouts, to great praise, I might add.

  I said it was mostly good because I’m not skilled at the kind of non-talk and “mingling or schmoozing” (again, Sam’s words) that are expected at these events. In fact, I am diametrically opposed to such nonsense. If words come out of your mouth, they should be worthy of someone’s time. I do not now, nor will I ever care how long it took someone to get their hair done or whether their shoes have red soles (unless it’s blood and then I’d just like to confirm it doesn’t belong to someone I like). I understand we need to promote the carnival and part of that is attending these hideous parties, but I just don’t enjoy any of it. People ask strange questions like, “Where did the inspiration for your menu come from?” (Duh . . . it says right on it that everything is based on traditional family recipes) or they ask questions I can’t answer without coughing up a lung like, “How did you end up joining a carnival?” or “How do you make it seem like the gargoyle is moving on its own when no one’s looking?” Arrrg!

  After enduring several of these events and conducting rigorous experimentation, I discovered that standing in a corner and cackling manically is an effective way to keep people at bay. They appear to find it disconcerting. No more weird or unanswerable questions for me! It’s thematically and professionally appropriate too, so it’s a win-win. I don’t know why more people don’t utilize this method.

  The most exciting thing that’s happened recently is that Peuturella, my old potions professor, paid me an unexpected visit to deliver a sack of gems and coin (with a promise of future payments every moon). After perfecting the processes and ingredient lists, she sold our laxative icing and gingerbread glue formulas to a huge alchemist company!

  I knew she was going to try, but I didn’t think it would be so quick or lucrative. With this amount of coin, which is just my half of the initial contract payment, I can count myself as rich. Add to that the bonus percentage of sales every moon and I am one lucky witch. I’ll have no problem paying back my student loans now and there’ll be no more fears of government-run love potion sweatshops in my future! Peuturella has lifted a huge weight off my broom.

  I split my half of the down payment with Herman, as he was instrumental in developing the initial formulas. I also sent a pouch-full of gems to Althea as part of the recipes were hers. Hopefully it will mitigate any issues I caused at the Gingerbread Hut with the building inspectors, storks, and Infernals. Lastly, I sent some coin to Magda to pay her back for the loan she gave me. It doesn’t begin to cover all the emotional and professional help she’s given, but it’s a start.

  To my delight, Peuturella stayed for a mini-vacation. We’re bunking together in my tent. She’s having a blast with my co-workers and is an excellent helper in the House of Horrors. Her visit has given me a few ideas.

  I threw the runes tonight to check whether a new direction I’ve been contemplating for the carnival is a good idea. I wouldn’t normally take such a drastic step (tempting the Fates), but I’m fond of my co-workers and job and don’t want to take any unnecessary risks if the result isn’t worth it. The runes came back positive, so I guess the next step is to see if Sam is interested. I’m excited and cautiously optimistic. This could be great!

  Tydias, Thunder Moon 9, 2
09

  EXCITING NEWS! SAM loved my idea to re-brand the carnival (which doesn’t involve any searing of flesh, thankfully). It’s what he called my plan to modify the rides, games, and big top show around a horror theme. He said it would be a great way to capitalize on our recent popularity. Between the two of us, we have enough ideas to choke a reticulating lava worm.

  The last hurdle is presenting the idea to our co-workers. They are usually open to new ways of doing things, so I don’t foresee a problem. Neither did Sam, but he said it was a decision everyone had to make together. We called a meeting for this afternoon. I’m supposed to be getting my ideas on paper so I can keep things straight while I’m explaining, but I was too excited and had to write in here first.

  Yikes! It’s almost time. I’d better get on to that list of ideas. No rest for the wickedly clever witch of the carnival!

  IT WAS A unanimous “Yes.” Karneval Života is now officially a Traveling Horror Show and I’ve never been prouder to be part of a group. I usually prefer to work alone. Many class projects and uncomfortable work experiences taught me that it’s easier and infinitely less painful. But . . . but . . . when you find a crew this fantastic, nothing beats collaboration.

  They had terrific ideas and were excited and engaged. Their enthusiasm was energizing. Everyone discussed what needed to be done first and divvied up jobs. Although each performer is responsible for their own act, everyone has some kind of skill to help someone else, from Sam’s wizardry to Asena’s costuming prowess. Even my Outerplane research came in handy. I had a readymade collection of scary folklore, monsters, and phobias.