Hapenny Magick

by Jennifer Carson

  Mae wanted to know what Aletta was worried about, but she didn’t have the strength to argue with the wizard. Callum went about preparing a cup of tea, and Mae was grateful when he handed it to her. “Do you think you’ll be able to keep this down?”

  “I’m a hapenny.” Mae attempted to smile. “I can eat more in one meal than a nest of baby birds.”

  “Yes.” Callum grinned back at her. “I almost forgot.”

  The tea soothed her weary, injured body. Mae’s eyelids drooped. She sniffed the last dregs. “What’s in this? Lavender?” she asked with a yawn.

  “Yes, some of that and more of something else, to help you heal and sleep.” Callum tucked a frayed blanket around her. He took the cup as her eyes closed. Her ears tried to perk up again as Aletta whispered in a husky voice, but Mae caught only one word.

  Troll.

  “She said the knife glinted green, Callum. And the state of the house—it wasn’t tidy, not like a hapenny’s house should be.”

  Chapter Eight

  “And you’ve never noticed this before?”

  “I was a pig! I’ve never been in the house! I only peeked in the windows today because I was checking in on Mae.”

  Mae opened her eyes. She was not in the chair by the fire anymore, but in a large bed, the frayed blanket tucked around her. Aletta and Callum argued as they walked down the hallway, pausing in front of her door. Mae closed her eyes again and pretended to be asleep. The flute in her pocket vibrated against her leg.

  “Maybe Gelbane is just disorganized.”

  Aletta clicked her tongue. “Have you ever heard of a messy hapenny? Or one with such a bad temper?”

  “Have you ever heard of a hapenny wizard?” Callum retorted.

  “It isn’t the same, Callum, and you know it! What about the knife? What about the missing boys? And the scratches on Maewyn’s leg? Those didn’t come from fingernails!”

  “You’re right; there is strong proof, but taking action before there is reason can be dangerous as well.”

  Strains of music floated through the room. Mae sat up, forgetting about playing opossum, and pulled the flute from her pocket. She held the little instrument in her hand as it played. Aletta and Callum walked through her doorway.

  “Has it ever done that before?” Callum asked. His eyes were as big as saucers.

  Mae shook her head.

  Callum held out his hand. “May I see it?”

  She gave the flute to Callum. The man held it up to the firelight and shook his head. “Amazing. I don’t see anything to suggest an enchantment, besides the fact that it plays by itself.”

  Aletta bent to peer at the singing instrument. “It sounds like a song I’ve heard before.” She hummed a few bars. “I’ve heard the village children sing it when they play a little game. It teaches them about the pox.”

  “How clever.” Callum rubbed his chin. “Education in a nursery rhyme. I’ve always said non-magickal peoples are underestimated.”

  The song sparked a memory in Mae’s head, too, and she remembered something about bridges, and hapennies rolling carts. Mae got a feeling that the flute was trying to send her a message. If only she could remember the words. The music faded and stopped. The air in the room tingled with anticipation.

  Callum handed the flute back to Mae and she put it in her pocket, the melody still spinning in her mind. “I heard you arguing,” she mumbled.

  “We were only having a discussion.” Aletta sat beside her and patted her hand.

  The two faces in front of Mae were both etched with worry. “It sounded more like an argument to me,” she said, looking from one wizard to the other. “What boys are missing?”

  Aletta exchanged a glance with Callum. He shook his head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about right now. You need to concentrate on getting well.”

  Mae’s stomach growled. It seemed to her it had been quite a while since she had last eaten. “Did I miss breakfast?” She wanted to get her strength back quickly, and nothing was better for strength than a big plate of blueberry pancakes.

  Callum chuckled. “Yes, and noon meal. Aletta worried that I put too much sleeping herb in your tea.”

  “I still think he did!” Aletta patted Mae’s leg and rose from the bed. “I’ll see what I can find in the pantry for you.”

  “My ankle feels much better already.” Mae pushed the blanket from her lap and stuck out her leg. “Can I learn some magick today?”

  “Let’s take a look.” Callum bent to unwrap the bandage. The wound had sealed itself, and only a bit of the ghoulish green color remained. He held her hand up to the light coming through the window. A small, brown scab had formed over the cut on her finger, too. Callum clicked his tongue and sighed. “Well, I still think another day of rest wouldn’t hurt.”

  Mae stuck out her lower lip. “Hapennies are not suited to idleness.”

  Callum’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You need plenty of rest to heal properly. A short walk in the forest and then an afternoon nap should do the trick.”

  “I don’t need a nap! I’m not a newlyborn!”

  “All right, I’ll let you read instead of insisting that you sleep. But if you happen to fall asleep, it’s not my fault. How’s that?”

  Mae scowled.

  “Or I could give you some more tea,” Callum suggested.

  “No, reading is fine! Better than a nap, anyway.” Mae did not want to sleep any more of the day away. Her eyes scanned a pile of books in the corner. She pointed to a red, clothbound book. The title was scrawled across the spine in faded gold letters: A Historie of Magickal Peoples. “Can I start with that one?”

  Aletta returned and placed a plate loaded with cheese, bread, tender spring greens, and a bit of roasted fowl on the dresser next to the bed. Callum pulled the red book from the pile and brushed the dust from its cover. “Yes, this would be a great start to your magickal education.”

  “Magickal education?”

  Callum’s eyebrows rose over the brim of his hat. “You didn’t think we would just turn you loose with all that magick inside, did you?”

  Mae shrugged. She hadn’t been to school since her momma went away. Mrs. Fairstone, the village schoolteacher, had pleaded with Gelbane to let Mae return with the other students, but Gelbane had gnashed her teeth and growled at the meek woman to mind her place. Gelbane had said that she was Mae’s guardian, as requested by her mother should anything dreadful happen to her, and she would do what she thought was best for Mae.

  “Now, when you are finished eating, get dressed and join me in the hearth room.” Callum placed the book at the foot of her bed. “A little walk should loosen up those sore muscles.”

  “What about trolls?”

  “Trolls?”

  Mae nodded as she scarfed down some cheese and bits of meat.

  “The sun is shining very brightly; we won’t have to worry about those beasts today.” Callum hummed as he left her to eat her mid-afternoon feast.

  As Mae ate, her eyes scoured the room. It was tidy, and the walls were painted a soft color that reminded Mae of robins’ eggs. Under a row of windows, a second bed sat against the wall. A green cover was tucked in tightly at the corners, and a white skirting flowed around the iron frame. Hanging on a hook by the door was a cotton dress and a perfect white pinafore (with pockets!). At the foot of the bed, next to the book, were striped leggings and a pair of lace-up leather boots.

  After pulling the dress and pinafore from the hook, Aletta held it up for Mae’s inspection. “Callum made this for you last night. It’s very pretty, isn’t it?”

  “Blue is my favorite color,” Mae said. “But the best part is, it’s clean!”

  Aletta laughed. “Yes, you would see it that way, wouldn’t you?”

  Mae grinned. “The lace is very pretty.”

  “I thought I saw you fingering Trina’s cuffs yesterday.” Aletta laid the pleated pinafore on the mattress.

  Mae crawled to the end of the bed and flopped on he
r rear. The mattress barely dented from her little weight. She pulled the leggings on, one foot at a time. Her ankle was still a bit painful, but she gritted her teeth against the short-lived twinge. No way was she staying in bed one more moment than she must. The leggings of blue, green, and yellow stripes were made from a thick material. She wiggled her toes against their softness. They would block the spring breeze and keep her warm.

  She pulled her dirty dress over her head and tossed it on the floor. In an instant, it disappeared. With alarm, Mae pointed to the floor. “Where did it go? My flute was in the pocket! And my raven!”

  “That’s one of Callum’s spells.” Aletta handed her the clean dress. “Your flute and raven are now in the pinafore pocket, and your dress will be back, cleaned, mended, and hung on the hook, by tomorrow morning.”

  “Imagine never having to clean again, but everything still being tidy, just the way a hapenny likes it,” Mae said as she slipped her head and arms into the bodice. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather be a kitchen witch instead of learning how to transform into an animal.”

  “They both have advantages, I suppose.” Aletta straightened the straps of the pinafore on Mae’s shoulders and reached for the boots. As Aletta loosened the bootlaces, Mae slipped her hand into her pocket, just to make sure. The flute was there, tucked into the corner, the raven right next to it. Mae pulled a boot on her injured ankle carefully and reached for the next. Then, turning on her belly, she held onto the bed sheets as she slipped down to the floor. Immediately her bootlaces tightened and the pinafore was a little too snug around her waist. “Another of Callum’s spells?” she asked.

  “You’ve got it.” Aletta smiled. “That color is most becoming. Shall we join Callum in the hearth room?”

  “Can you loosen the bow on my apron first? I feel like I can’t breathe!”

  Aletta laughed and loosened the bow, and then Mae tested her injured ankle. The boots were tall and helped to support her ankle. She wiggled her toes inside the stiff leather. After being so free for so long, her toes felt a little smothered. She smiled up at her new friend. “Callum uses the braided end of his beard like a wand. Do you have a wand, Aletta?”

  The wizard shook her sleeve and a thin tendril of grapevine appeared in her hand.

  Mae stared at it in disbelief. “I would have expected it to be a little bigger.”

  Aletta poked her wand back into her sleeve. “Yes, well, you’ll see. It’s not as if I chose a grapevine wand.”

  As she padded down the hallway behind the wizard, Mae wondered at how this could be true. Why didn’t Aletta choose her own wand? A wand seemed to be a most personal thing.

  Callum was at his worktable when she and Aletta entered the room. Mae pulled nervously at the hem of her pinafore.

  Callum clapped his hands together. “How marvelous you look, Maewyn! I’m glad I decided on stripes instead of polka dots. They suit you.”

  “Thank you for the dress and apron and tights. The stripes are wonderful, although polka dots would have been nice, too.”

  Callum laughed. “Next time, polka dots, then!”

  “Next time?” Mae asked.

  “I’m sorry, I assumed after Gelbane attacked you…uh… You will be staying with us for good now, won’t you, Maewyn?”

  Mae nodded. She wouldn’t be Gelbane’s servant ever again. She couldn’t really go back, anyway, not after she had kicked her guardian in the face and run away. “Could I please send Leif a letter, though, so he won’t worry about me?”

  Callum and Aletta exchanged glances.

  “I won’t tell him where I am, I mean, if you don’t want me to.” Mae dropped her gaze to the floor and twisted the corner of her apron. “Just that I’m safe and that one day soon I’ll come back to the Wedge.”

  Callum cleared his throat. “It’s not that we don’t want you to tell Leif where you are, it’s just that we would fear for your safety if Gelbane found out.”

  Aletta pulled a woolen cloak across her shoulders. “I’m going to be gone for a few days. If you write that letter, I’ll make sure it gets delivered when I return.”

  “Where are you going?” Mae asked. She had been looking forward to getting to know Aletta better.

  The wizards exchanged another glance. They seemed to be doing that a lot today.

  “I’m going to be spending a few days at the farm. I need to play the pig a while longer.”

  “But why?” Mae cried. Her heartbeat picked up speed as fear gushed through her body.

  “Call it a fondness for slops.” Aletta’s smile wavered around the edges. “I’ll be just fine. I’ve handled Gelbane before. Don’t worry. I’ll be back by the time you finish that book sitting on your bed.”

  “Let’s walk Aletta out, shall we, Mae?”

  Callum pulled the front door open and followed the two onto the porch. “Take care, Aletta.”

  Aletta stretched to peck Callum on the forehead and pinched Mae’s cheeks. They watched from the porch until she disappeared into the woods. Then Callum held out his hand to Mae. “Shall we begin?”

  Mae nodded and curled her hand around Callum’s finger. She knew he was trying to distract her, but she couldn’t help worrying about Aletta. She hoped Gelbane didn’t catch her and decide that runaway pigs should be eaten.

  Chapter Nine

  The birds flittered to and fro, anxious to put the finishing touches on their nests as Mae and Callum picked their way across the creek on the stepping-stones. The squirrels called to each other, sharing stories about tender spring shoots and nut stores. The sun shone through the trees’ spring leaves and dappled the trunks with spots of bright light.

  Mae considered each step. She didn’t want to trip and injure her ankle more, or Callum would make her wait even longer to learn a bit of magick. The wizard was just ahead of her. Every once in a while he would stop, put his hand to his chin and look very thoughtful.

  During one of those moments, Mae crawled atop a low tree stump and plopped down. “Are we lost, Callum?”

  “What?” The man turned to her. “Oh, no, no. We aren’t lost, exactly; I have merely turned myself around a bit. You rest while I find the right path.” Callum peered into the forest and, settling his cap further back on his head, disappeared behind a thicket of trees.

  Mae rolled her achy ankle; it was tender, even with the extra support of the ankle-high boot. Swiveling on her perch, Mae peered past the underbrush. A meadow lay just beyond her seat on the tree stump. When they were younger, she had often wandered with Leif to a small meadow to pick flowers, with his little brother, Reed, in tow. Reed still shadowed his older brother almost everywhere.

  The sun lit upon the flowers in the meadow, painting them a golden hue. A lone tree grew in the center. Its leaves were shaped like feathers, and creamy white buds burst forth from the ends of the branches.

  Mae pointed to the tree and yelled to Callum, “What kind of tree is that?”

  But the wizard had moved too far away to hear, so Mae slipped from the stump and made her way through the underbrush. When she reached the tree, she ran her hand over the smooth bark and touched the fuzzy buds.

  Reaching down with a twiggy finger, the tree snagged Mae’s hair.

  “Hey!” Mae yelped, rubbing her head. She felt a tug at the bow of her pinafore. Mae turned in a circle, trying to catch the ends of her ties. “That wasn’t very nice!”

  She pulled the flute out of her pocket and stepped back from the grabbing fingers. Mae licked her lips and then put the flute to them. A soft tune, like a gentle wind meandering through the forest, mingled with the breeze.

  The tree bent and swayed to the beat. Mae stared as the buds on the limbs unfurled into creamy white flowers. The center of each blossom formed a yellow star. Then the tree flung out a slender sprig, which landed at Mae’s feet. She bent to pick it up, the flute’s song fading into the forest.

  Callum entered the meadow. “I should have known you two would be a perfect match. Luisliu is a mischiev
ous tree.”

  The leaves on the tree shook, as if it was laughing.

  Mae pocketed the flute, then twirled the twig in her hand, inspecting the velvety star centers of the flowers. “Luisliu?”

  “That’s the name of the tree, Luisliu. I think non-magickal people call it a rowan tree. In the fall, it will be covered with beautiful red berries.” Callum patted his stomach. “The berries make a wonderful jam.”

  Mae’s mouth watered at the idea of making jam. She swallowed and gazed up into the tree’s swaying canopy. “Sounds wonderful.”

  “It is particularly good with goose.” The wizard chuckled. “It makes perfect sense that your wand would come from this tree.”

  Mae blinked and stared at the sprig in her hand. “My wand?”

  Callum unbraided the end of his beard, revealing a thorny twig of raspberry. “No other wizard I’ve ever met has a thorn-riddled wand. But it entangled itself around my leg, and I knew that it was meant to be.”

  Mae smiled and gripped the twig tighter. “My wand!”

  A breeze picked up as Mae hobbled back to the tree. She threw her arms around its trunk. “Thank you, Luisliu.” She patted the smooth bark.

  Callum braided his wand back into his beard, and then put his hand on the top of Mae’s head. “Come, Maewyn, it feels like there’s a storm blowing in, and it’s time for you to rest.”

  “But I’m too excited to rest! I want to learn some magick!” She turned in a circle and gave the wand a flick with her wrist. “Kazoo!” The flowers burst off the twig, turning into white moths that fluttered to and fro.

  “Oh, dear.” Callum’s mouth quirked to the side. “It seems I’ve underestimated your magick. No more wand flicking until I can teach you some rules, or I fear you will be turning mushrooms into hobgoblins.” Callum turned away from the meadow. “Come along, Maewyn.”

  Mae followed the wizard, but when she saw a ring of polka-dotted toadstools, she couldn’t resist. With a picture in her mind of what she thought hobgoblins looked like and a little flick of her wrist, Mae tapped each toadstool with her wand. At first nothing happened. And then, one by one, the toadstools sprouted legs and scurried away. Mae was so startled she ran to catch up with Callum, ignoring the twinge in her ankle. She grabbed his shirttail and looked back. A cluster of little creatures with round features and gleaming eyes stared at her from the brush. On their heads, bulbous red hats with white polka dots bounced with excitement. The hobgoblins were just as she’d pictured them. She waved as Callum pulled her along, hoping they would follow her, but they scurried deeper into the woods. She hoped she’d see them again and that they would be able to keep dry in the storm. She supposed, though, that a toadstool had weathered many spring showers. A splash of rain fell on her nose, and the wizard picked up his pace.