The Blue Witch

by Alane Adams

  “Why would she leave the coven?”

  “Her time with Rigel changed her. She was ordered to leave you in the Creche and resume her role in the coven, but she couldn’t bear to be separated from you. So, she left. She hadn’t gotten far when that vicious creature attacked her in the woods.”

  “A viken?” Hugo asked.

  Baba Nana looked surprised. “How do you know of the viken?”

  “One of them has been after me,” Abigail said, “ever since I got to the Tarkana Fortress.”

  Baba Nana snorted. “It must have your scent from that night in the woods. It was Melistra that created it. She got her hands on some old spellbooks from her ancestor, Vena Volgrim. She released it that night when your mother fled with you. I couldn’t prove she did it.”

  “Why would she do that?” Abigail asked.

  Baba Nana’s eyes slid away. “My guess is she thought your mother was a traitor.”

  There was something Baba Nana wasn’t telling them.

  “Then why did you get banished?” Abigail asked.

  “Because I was her instructor. I taught Advanced Beasts to the acolytes who showed promise. Melistra was my star pupil. She told the High Witch Council the viken was my creation—that I had set it free. She claimed not to have the magic to do such a thing. She was clever enough to hide Vena’s journals in my chambers. The only good news is they were destroyed.”

  “What happened to the viken?” Hugo asked.

  “We searched for it, but it was never found. I think Melistra hid it somewhere out in the swamps.”

  “Baba Nana,” Calla whispered.

  “What is it, child?”

  “Look.”

  Calla held out her hand. She trembled as she turned her palm over. On top of it hovered a tiny spark of witchfire.

  “I’ve got my magic!”

  Chapter 35

  After they exchanged goodbyes and promises to return to visit, it was time to head home. Calla was practically bursting to tell everyone she had her magic.

  They started walking down the road to the Tarkana Fortress. Moonlight lit their way, and for the first time in weeks, Abigail wasn’t afraid of a rabid beast jumping out of the bushes at them.

  “Thanks,” Calla said, linking her arm with Abigail’s. “If I didn’t say it before, you’re a true friend.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without Hugo,” Abigail said, linking arms with him.

  “For a Balfin, he’s quite all right,” Calla teased.

  They all laughed, gravel crunching underfoot as they crossed onto the path that led to the side gate into the gardens.

  “That’s odd,” Abigail said, frowning. “Someone left the gate open.”

  “Maybe Endera came this way,” Calla said.

  They entered the gardens and stood under the jookberry tree.

  “I should get home,” Hugo said, “before my parents send out a search party.”

  He turned to go, but Abigail put her hand on his arm, stilling him.

  It was quiet. Too quiet.

  As if all the night animals had vanished.

  “I feel it too,” he said softly.

  “What do you suppose it is?” Calla whispered.

  Out of the darkness, a beast landed in the middle of the clearing, planting its massive paws in the earth, spraying them with dirt and gravel.

  The viken opened its jaws and brayed a thunderous growl.

  Abigail screamed, taking a step back. “I thought you took care of it.”

  ‘I did,” Hugo said, “It must have escaped the bog somehow.”

  Abigail threw a solid blast of witchfire. It hit the viken in the shoulder, making it roar in pain.

  Calla joined in, lobbing tiny spurts. “What should we do?” she asked.

  “Run!” Abigail said.

  They fled down the path, with the viken only steps behind. Abigail kept turning, flinging witchfire at its slavering jaws. It slowed the viken but didn’t stop it.

  They entered the courtyard and raced toward the Great Hall.

  Just a few more steps and they would be inside.

  A flash of green burst at Abigail’s feet, sending her spinning. Someone had shot witchfire at her. She watched from the ground, dazed, as Hugo and Calla reached the top of the steps before realizing she wasn’t with them.

  “Abigail!” Hugo shouted.

  The beast landed on her. Tearing pain ran up her arm as its claws grazed her skin. Warm blood soaked her uniform. She called up a ball of witchfire, shoving it in the viken’s mouth. It howled, spitting it out to the side, and roared in her face, spraying her with spittle.

  A figure hurtled onto its back. Hugo tried to wrestle it off Abigail.

  “Get off her, you filthy animal!”

  The viken tossed its head back, sending Hugo tumbling across the cobblestones. But the distraction had given Abigail time to get to her feet.

  She weaved slightly, feeling light-headed. As the beast leapt at her, she called out the only spell that could save her.

  “Gally mordana, gilly pormona, gelly venoma.”

  The viken froze midair, held in place by the spell. A frightened look came into its eyes as its body shimmered and shook. It pawed frantically, trying to reach Abigail, and then it vanished in a wash of cold air.

  Abigail was about to help Hugo up, when a sudden movement caught her eye.

  Melistra stepped out from behind a pillar, her face a mask of rage. She raised her hand, holding a ball of witchfire, preparing to send it at Abigail, when light spilled out of the Great Hall. Melistra retreated into the shadows as Madame Vex rushed out, followed by several other teachers shouting out questions.

  Abigail tried to explain, but a wave of dizziness hit her, and she sank into oblivion.

  Chapter 36

  Abigail woke to late-afternoon sunlight streaming through her attic room window. She winced at the pain in her arm. Pulling the blanket away, she found bandages covering the deep scratches the viken had left. Someone had applied a pungent ointment and wrapped her wounds in gauze. She sat up and nearly choked in surprise.

  Madame Vex sat at the end of her bed, back ramrod straight.

  “Glad to see you’re alive,” the headmistress said. She poured a glass of water from a pitcher and passed it to Abigail.

  She took a long sip, unsure what to say.

  “You are reckless,” Madame Vex went on in her crisp voice. “We nearly lost three witchlings because of it. But you protected the coven from that vicious creature, so you won’t be expelled. You will, however, lose your Head Witchling pin as punishment for sending Endera and the others to the netherworld.”

  She held out her hand.

  Abigail picked up her rumpled uniform and unpinned the gold T, handing it over.

  Madame Vex stood. “When you recover, I expect you to resume your studies and catch up on any missed work.”

  “Thank you, Madame Vex, for letting me stay.”

  The headmistress paused at the door. “I had a dear friend a long time ago. You remind me quite a bit of her.”

  “Who was she?”

  “Her name was Lissandra. She was a foolish girl, always had her head in the clouds. In the end, she forgot what was important.”

  “What’s that?”

  Madame Vex turned, pinning her with blazing eyes. “The coven, Abigail. Don’t make her mistake. The coven will protect you. The coven is your family.”

  Madame Vex went out and shut the door.

  Abigail flopped back, remembering the viken’s horrid breath and its wicked teeth so close to her throat.

  She needed fresh air. Rising, she dressed gingerly, slipping her sea emerald around her neck and adding two more items to her pockets. She wandered the garden paths until she found herself under the jookberry tree. Thoughts chased through her head as she stared up at the clouds. As the sun dropped lower, the sky darkened, and a star appeared. It hung low, twinkling a familiar blue.

  “Hello, Father,” she whispered. “I don�
�t even know you, but I miss you.”

  She tried to imagine what he was doing right now. What did a star feel?

  “They feel quite a lot in Rigel’s case.”

  The calm voice came from the woman beside her.

  Vor.

  Once again, the Goddess of Wisdom was seated on the grass, quietly picking daisies. Fireflies danced around her head, creating a warm halo.

  “Vor!” Abigail sat up. “I’m so glad to see you. Did you know my father?”

  Vor gave a delicate shrug. “I knew of him. He was special to Odin. Thor was a favored son, and Rigel—he was known as Aurvandil then—was a big help to Thor. He earned Odin’s gratitude.”

  Abigail looked back at the star. “I wish I could talk to him.”

  “Words have power when spoken from the heart. They can even reach the stars.” She was silent, and then her voice dropped. “Have you considered Odin’s offer of sanctuary?”

  “Yes.” Abigail looked into Vor’s milky eyes, gathering her courage. “How do I know he wouldn’t use me as a pawn as well?” she blurted out.

  Vor smiled, looking pleased. “Good. You are learning. The answer is you don’t, of course. That is why the choice is so difficult.”

  Abigail sighed, making up her mind. “I can’t leave. I’m sorry. I am a Tarkana witch. My coven must come first.”

  A flicker of sadness passed over Vor’s face. “I understand.” She rose to her feet, gracefully unfolding her limbs. “That means our time together has come to an end.”

  “Don’t go.” Abigail hurried to her feet. “There’s so much I don’t know.”

  Vor put a hand on her shoulder. “Be mindful, Abigail. You used dark magic when you cast those girls into the netherworld. Its power over you will grow. The more you use it, the more it will draw you in.”

  A chill wind blew across the clearing. Vor’s image began to glow, and then it dissolved into a cloud of fireflies that darted away in the breeze.

  Abigail looked back at the sky. The blue star continued to glitter brightly. “What am I to do, Father? You told me to trust my heart. Was I wrong?”

  There was a scuffling sound and a red berry fell on her head. She looked up to see Hugo grinning from the branches. He dropped down to land next to her.

  “I didn’t think you would be here,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  “Just a little sore. Melistra was there. In the courtyard. She’s the one who tripped me.”

  “I know. I saw her. Look.” He pulled out his notebook and thumbed to the page where he had copied Fetch’s note to Odin. “The dark one rises. Do you think it could mean Melistra?”

  “It might. It would mean Odin is worried about what she can do.” She turned to look at the fortress.

  Or is he worried about something I can do? she wondered silently, remembering how the spellbook had called her dark witch.

  “I have something for you,” she said, turning to Hugo. She handed him a flashy medallion on a silver chain. “This one’s for Emenor. I added some wonkety magic. Just wait until he uses it. His Maths homework just might disappear.”

  Hugo grinned. “Thanks.”

  “And this one is for you.” She handed him a simple pendant made of black onyx. “I think you’ll like the magic I put in it.”

  His eyes widened. “Really? Are you sure? I don’t want you to think I’m using you.”

  “I don’t. I know you love magic as much as I do. Use it, and I’ll refill it whenever you want.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course. We’re friends, right?”

  “The best.”

  He gave her a swift hug and then stepped back, looking embarrassed. “You were talking to your father before, weren’t you?”

  She nodded and glanced up at the blue star. “Do you think he’ll ever come back?”

  “He came once. Maybe he’ll come again.” He studied the sky. “Until then, no matter where you are or what you’re doing, think of him watching over you.”

  Abigail smiled at her friend. She liked that. She liked that very much.

  Epilogue

  Endera rapped her knuckles on the door high in the tower. Her knees were knocking together so hard she was bound to have bruises.

  “Come in.”

  Her heart hitched at the stern sound of her mother’s voice. Hands shaking, she turned the knob.

  Melistra stood by the fireplace, staring into the flames.

  “Mother? You asked to see me?”

  “Shut the door.”

  Endera obeyed, taking two steps into the room.

  “Do you have anything to say?” Melistra turned to face her daughter.

  Endera hung her head. “I’m sorry. I should have never let Abigail get hold of your spellbook. It won’t happen again.”

  She waited for her mother to scold her, but Melistra was silent. The High Witch stepped closer and tilted Endera’s chin up. Her eyes were a fierce green.

  “You are my daughter, so I will forgive you this once. Disappoint me again, and I will have no further use for you. Am I clear?”

  Endera bit her lip hard to take the wobble out of her voice before she answered.

  “Yes, Mother, I will not fail you again.” As her mother moved away, she added, “I saw something strange.”

  Melistra went perfectly still. “What?”

  “When Abigail used her witchfire in the netherworld. It was blue for just a moment.”

  Melistra’s eyes flared and she smacked her hands together. “I knew she was Lissandra’s child.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Her mother’s answer was cryptic. “It means the Rubicus Prophecy has begun. We must act quickly if we are to change the outcome.”

  She grasped Endera’s shoulders.

  “From now on, I want a report on everything that mongrel witchling does. You will deliver it to me personally once a week, and I will see to you developing your magic. One way or another, we will destroy that witch-ling before she ruins this coven.”

  Endera couldn’t stop the smile that crossed her face.

  Destroy Abigail? It would be her pleasure.

  THE END

  From the Author

  Dear Reader:

  I hope you enjoyed The Blue Witch! It has been so fun delving into the past of my favorite Legends of Orkney™ characters. I love finding out more about Sam Baron’s mom, Abigail, and how she got her start at the Tarkana Witch Academy.

  As an author, I love to get feedback from my fans letting me know what you liked about the book, what you loved about the book, and even what you didn’t like. You can write me at PO Box 1475, Orange, CA 92856, or e-mail me at author@alaneadams.com. Visit me on the web at www.alaneadams.com and learn about starting a book club with my Legends of Orkney™ series or having me visit your school to talk about reading!

  I want to thank my son Alex for inspiring me to write these stories, and his faith in me that I would see them through. To my wonderful editor, Jennifer Silva Redmond, thank you for pointing out all my many flaws! To my amazing foundation director, Lauri, a million thanks for your willingness to do read-alouds with me again and again. And of course a big shoutout to the team at Spark-Press for their unfailing support. Go Sparkies!

  Look for more adventures with Abigail and Hugo as they try to learn more about her past in The Rubicus Prophecy coming Fall 2019.

  To Orkney! Long may her legends grow!

  —Alane Adams

  About the Author

  Author photo © Melissa Coulier/Bring Media

  Alane Adams is an author, professor, and literacy advocate. She is the author of the Legends of Orkney fantasy mythology series for tweens and The Coal Thief, The Egg Thief, The Santa Thief picture books for early-grade readers. She lives in Southern California.

  SELECTED TITLES FROM SPARKPRESS

  SparkPress is an independent boutique publisher delivering high-quality, entertaining, and engaging content that enhances readers’ lives, with a special fo
cus on female-driven work. Visit us at www.gosparkpress.com

  The Thorn Queen, Elise Holland, $16.95, 9781943006793. Twelve-year-old Meylyne longs to impress her brilliant, sorceress mother—but when she accidentally breaks one of Glendoch’s First Rules, she accomplishes the opposite of that. Forced to flee, the only way she may return home is with a cure for Glendoch’s diseased prince.

  The Red Sun, Alane Adams. $17, 978-1-940716-24-4. After learning that his mom is a witch and his missing father is a true Son of Odin, twelve-year-old Sam Baron must travel through a stonefire to the magical realm of Orkney on a quest to find his missing friends and stop an ancient curse.

  Wendy Darling Vol 1: Stars, Colleen Oakes. $17, 978-1-94071-6-96-4. Loved by two men—a steady and handsome bookseller’s son from London, and Peter Pan, a dashing and dangerous charmer—Wendy realizes that Neverland, like her heart, is a wild place, teeming with dark secrets and dangerous obsessions.

  Kalifus Rising, Alane Adams, $16.95, 978-1940716848. Sam Baron’s attempt to free his father brought war to Orkney. Now captured by the Volgrim witches, Sam’s only hope lies with his friends—but treachery shadows their every step.

  The Raven God, Alane Adams, $16.95, 978-1-943006-36-6. As an army of fire giants amasses in the south, prepared to launch all-out war on the defenseless Orkney, Sam embarks on a rescue mission to bring Odin back from the dark underworld of Helva—but the menacing Loki is pulling all the strings.

  About SparkPress

  SparkPress is an independent, hybrid imprint focused on merging the best of the traditional publishing model with new and innovative strategies. We deliver high-quality, entertaining, and engaging content that enhances readers’ lives. We are proud to bring to market a list of New York Times best-selling, award-winning, and debut authors who represent a wide array of genres, as well as our established, industry-wide reputation for creative, results-driven success in working with authors. SparkPress, a BookSparks imprint, is a division of Spark-Point Studio LLC.