An Errant Witch

by E M Graham

  ‘You know what they say about the half-bloods?’ he asked, looking around the room at the others as if seeing them for the first time. ‘They are the way of the future – yes!’

  Someone gasped, I think it may have been Pauline.

  His face hardened just the slightest. ‘Soon, we will all be a race of diluted witch blood, and I for one believe that is not a bad thing.’ He nodded emphatically.

  ‘No more rascism! No more excuses to put another down, to think oneself better than one’s fellow. The halflings will merge the races!’

  I felt a warmth begin in my chest, like a thawing after a hard winter freeze as my heart melted just a little bit on hearing his words. No one, and I mean no one related to the Kin had ever spoken like this before.

  His proclamation was met with stony faces all around the table. He harrumphed into his hand as if remembering who his audience was, and he raised his eyebrows at me. ‘Of course, you will find not everyone is of that opinion.’

  Rasmussen stood behind the podium at the top of the room, and nodded to indicate that the session had begun.

  ‘Physical Magic,’ he proclaimed in his odd Nordic accent after we’d all taken places at the lab benches. He stood at an old-fashioned blackboard with chalk in his hand. ‘What is this?’

  A groan went around the room.

  ‘You, Mr. Smythe,’ he said, pointing at Oliver, who had groaned the loudest. ‘What is Physical Magic to you?’

  ‘Something I’d thought we’d finished with in middle school,’ Oliver said with disdain, tapping a pencil against the lab bench top.

  ‘You probably did,’ Rasmussen agreed. ‘And you think you know it all by now, eh?’

  Oliver glanced at Timothy and shrugged. ‘Well, Pure Mind is the way of the future.’

  Rasmussen snorted. ‘And so you think Physical is not important, eh? Your teachers didn’t bother honing your physical skills, because that’s not the present flavor of the month. Well, I see we have a lot of work ahead of us.’

  No one dared to groan aloud this time.

  ‘I want to see your mediums.’

  Everyone brought an object out of their pockets and purses and bags. Win’s was a piece of green jade, carved in the shape of a fat dragon and small enough to fit inside an enclosed fist. Fergie’s hands played with her handkerchief-sized piece of blue raw silk, while Sandy laid his on the table next to him; it looked to be a stout piece of driftwood a foot long, silvered and weathered by the ocean salt. Timothy laid a perfect crystal ball on a stand in front of him, while Oliver, the scoffer of Physical Magic, ostentatiously caressed a wand made from exotic hardwood, wrapped in gold and bejewelled all around the handle. It must have cost a bundle, that one.

  Rasmussen walked around the table, nodding at each item. When he reached Pauline, his eyebrows rose a notch at the polished iron wand before her. But he stopped when he came to me, for I had brought nothing.

  I waited as the silence grew. I could feel sweat starting to spread in my armpits. Stress sweat, I think it’s called, the sweat that forms when the body is in fight or flight mode but is unable to take either action. It smells different from the normal, honest sweat of hard labor – it holds the odor of fear.

  From what I could see on the table, the mediums were objects used, presumably for Physical Magic. Of course I had nothing to show, for I’d never taken formal magic courses. I didn’t even know how one got to choose what one’s medium was, let alone how it was used in practicing magic.

  He cleared his throat. I twisted in my seat to look up at him.

  ‘I don’t have one,’ I said, stating the obvious.

  His eyes were like pebbles behind the rimless lenses. ‘I see.’

  He walked back to the front of the room, to a set of wands hung on the wall like pool cues. After careful consideration he plucked one out, came back to me.

  ‘You will use this,’ he said, his voice not unkind. ‘A plain ash wand. Until we figure out what your medium shall be.’

  If he heard the snickers along the table, he did not show it. I could feel my cheeks starting a slow burn, for I’d guessed that the ash wand was what they started little kids off with. I still had no idea what to do with it.

  ‘I want each of you to show me a spell using your medium, any spell, so I can see your form,’ Rasmussen continued. ‘Timothy, you may be first.’

  In a very bored manner, Timothy stared at his crystal and it began to glow, with movement inside. As a green haze settled within the ball, it turned to white until suddenly, the ball showed a picture of a village church, wreathed in snow with more falling all around it. He’d turned his medium into a snow globe, a simple feat which earned appreciative laughter from the others.

  Rasmussen however was not amused. Not at all. ‘That is a Mind trick. Not what I requested.’

  The snow village disappeared from the crystal and Timothy’s handsome face turned sullen.

  ‘Pauline,’ Rasmussen said. ‘Show me what you can do using your wrought iron fencing.’

  Her face grew stormy at the insult to her medium. She picked up the iron wand and held it an inch from her lips and whispered into it. She then pointed the wand to the front of the room, and the nails affixing the blackboard to the wooden struts of the wall began to pop out, flying to her wand like iron filings to a magnet which, I guessed, it was. The chalkboard fell to the floor with a bang.

  ‘Very clever,’ Rasmussen acknowledged. ‘Now put it all back into place.’

  It was Pauline’s turn to flush red as she stared at the unmoving nails held along the length of her wand. He left her to the work, and went through each of the others in turn.

  When it was my turn, I could only shake my head, the ash wand in my hand.

  ‘I don’t know how to use it,’ I confessed. ‘I don’t know any spells.’ And Hugh had always said witches don’t need spells.

  He looked at me, his arms folded. ‘You can at least try,’ he said, one eyebrow raised.

  ‘But to do what?’ My mind was a total blank by this time. Did I want to create a snowstorm in a crystal ball, or cause the wooden manikin to dance as Oliver had? Use the wand to gather clouds outside or cause the clock’s hands to stand still? I had no reason to do any of these dumb things, even if I knew how to wield the piece of wood in my hand.

  I thought of doing what I’d learned in Durant’s class, opening a book or seeing what was on the pages within, but that wouldn’t be acceptable. Rasmussen wanted me to use the wand to create. I stared at him helplessly. I was failing without even knowing what I was failing at.

  And I could feel the ire directed at me from the others. They were quickly losing patience.

  ‘Here,’ he said as he took a piece of kindling from the woodpile and placed it before me. ‘Set that alight.’

  ‘But I told you, I don’t know any spells.’

  A distinct snickering was starting up in the ranks again.

  ‘Then don’t use a spell!’ Rasmussen said in growing frustration to match my own. ‘Spells are a tool only to concentrate the Intention. Use whatever you like, as long as it is through the wand!’

  Oh. Maybe that was different. I had caused the sconce to burn last night, hadn’t I? I pointed the wand at the kindling. Burn, I told it quietly. Catch alight. But nothing was happening. I quickly thought. If Intention was what was needed, could I send it out through the wand? I held my breath and tried it this way.

  The only result was a whisper of smoke coming from the end of the very wand itself, not the kindling. I sat there watching it glow, as all around me the class erupted in laughter.

  Chapter 11

  ‘HUSH NOW, EVERYONE!’ Rasmussen faced the class with his hands on his hips and a frown firmly planted on his face. ‘Physical Magic. I fear we will need to begin at the basics.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’ Win stopped mid guffaw to complain. ‘Why should we be punished because she doesn’t know anything?’

  ‘I did
n’t come to Scarp to waste my time on Physical,’ Timothy agreed.

  ‘This is a gross inconvenience,’ Pauline added, turning to me with spite in her eyes.

  Fergie studied the silk cloth she was nervously twisting in her hands, while I could see Sandy staring out the window as if he wished himself out on his beloved moors and hills.

  ‘Silence!’ Rasmussen roared. His beady eyes travelled all around the table at each of us. ‘Half of you so-called advanced practitioners of magic were unable to cleanly accomplish your tasks. With the exception of Win, Alexander and Fergianna.’

  Win sat triumphant, her arms crossed as she sneered at all the rest of us, while Fergie stared stonily at the table before her; I could only guess at how she was feeling at this moment. She’d dismissed her own magic as Hedge Witchery, had admitted she hadn’t learned the more sophisticated Pure Mind at her local school, not like the others, but she probably didn’t appreciate Rasmussen drawing attention to the fact.

  ‘I have seen no evidence that you, Timothy, used your crystal ball to help weave the magic – you merely created an illusion within it. Pauline, while you used your iron wand directly as a magnet, you showed that you could not reverse the spell, therefore you were relying on the inherent properties of the medium and not your skill in working through the medium. And Oliver, this is not a joke! Laziness will show through the spell and weaken it.’

  He drew a deep breath before continuing. ‘You know the Competition does not focus only on Mind, although it looks like you have all forgotten this. So what I propose is, we will return to a couple of basic spells.’

  Here he held up his hand to stem the growing mutterings. ‘Just a couple of basics, as I said. This will enable you all to re-examine your techniques. You will thank me for this later. Practice them tonight, and show me tomorrow afternoon.’

  Rasmussen flicked through a large ancient leather covered book on his desk, then a small smile came to his face, softening the thin lies of it. ‘Ah, yes. This is what you shall all practice. A safety spell, just the thing. Each of you, use the one you are most familiar with, even if you think you already know it, I would advise you all to work on this one. Perfect it.’

  He looked up from his book and his eyes settled on me. ‘We all have need of a little safety sometimes, don’t we?’

  HERR RASMUSSEN allowed me to use his own book, as I had no previous spells to draw on, although he would not give me assistance in learning it.

  ‘You will do it, if you want to,’ he said with an odd sort of smile as he left me to it.

  I stayed behind in the class after everyone had left with the book laid before me. It wasn’t making any sense at all, no matter how often I read the instructions for the spell. For one thing, it was hand written in an old form of the alphabet, and I had an uncomfortable feeling that what I pronounced as f’s were supposed to be s’s, and vice versa.

  Not that it mattered how I pronounced the words, for it was all in Latin or Old French or something, and none of the words made sense. How could I create the Intention if I didn’t know what the Intention was? I finally threw down the scorched wand in frustration. Nothing was working, yet it was vital I learn how to do this spell.

  But I hadn’t totally given up hope yet, for there were still a couple of hours between supper and the communal gathering in the Common Room, and I meant to use that time wisely.

  After another lacklustre supper in the Refectory, I cornered Fergie and Sandy, my only allies on this island.

  ‘I need help with this spell stuff,’ I told them point blank, after the others had left the dining hall.

  They both nodded in agreement, knowing my situation, but then I saw them eyeing each other with suspicion. Neither had any reason to trust the other, not in the competitive atmosphere of this island. The fire in the grate was burning down now; I’d never noticed how dark it was in this large room.

  ‘I’d be very glad to teach you what I can,’ Sandy said, very stiffly. ‘I know you have what it takes, I’ve seen it for myself. But I don’t think others here will have your best interests at heart.’

  Fergie looked up at him, her eyes flashing fire once she grasped what he was saying. ‘What do you mean by that, Sandy?’

  ‘You’re one of them, aren’t you?’ He was still stinging from the mockery from last night, and holding a grudge against the five. It was true, Fergie had joined in on that and she had the grace to blush.

  ‘You know nothing about me,’ she muttered.

  I sighed. ‘Hey you guys, peace out, would you? I’ve gotten to know both of you, a little,’ I said. ‘And believe it or not, neither of you is like those four Kin witches, okay? And you both know I have no intention of competing with you, I’m just here because, well, I have to go through the motions for Johanna.’

  I stared at Sandy first, then Fergie, till they both gave reluctant nods.

  ‘Here’s the book.’ I lifted the heavy tome out of my bag and placed it on the table with a thud, then flicked through it till I found the right page. Yes, I suppose I could have used Mind magic to open it, but I needed to save my energy.

  ‘My first problem is, I don’t even know how to pronounce the spell, let alone understand what the words mean.’ I looked at Fergie. ‘Can you help me with this?’

  She studied the words, then shrugged. ‘We didn’t do languages where I come from, only Latin,’ she said. ‘The rest of it is all Greek to me.’

  ‘No languages?’ Sandy looked shocked. ‘What sort of education did you have?’

  I could see her about to give him a nasty retort, so I hurriedly cut in.

  ‘What do you think, Sandy? Do you recognize it?’

  He studied the page, then nodded. ‘It’s Old German, looks like,’ he said. ‘Probably from the seventeenth century. I can give you the jist of it, enough so we know the basics of the spell, and we may be able to figure it out from there.’

  ‘Why don’t I just teach you what I do?’ Fergie said, impatient with the book work. ‘It’ll take forever to figure that one out. I can show you in five minutes, it’s the easiest thing in the world.’

  ‘For you, it is, and for me,’ Sandy turned on her. ‘But how is a cloth spell going to help Dara? Or a driftwood enchanting? She needs to find her own way with the ash wand or Rasmussen won’t accept it.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ She looked up at me, then back at the wand in my hand, then shrugged. ‘Well, if you ask me, I think you’re screwed.’

  ‘No way, Fergie,’ I replied. ‘I’m going to do this, and we’re not leaving till we do. So put your thinking cap on and let’s get to work.’

  Sandy translated the words from the spell, with Fergie adding commentary as to the Intent of the spell.

  ‘So, let me get this straight, what we have so far,’ I said at last, putting a hand up to rub the crick out of my neck. ‘To perform a safety spell, I need to say these words while holding the intent in my head?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Fergie. ‘And directing the power through the wand.’

  ‘Except you don’t necessarily have to say the words out loud,’ Sandy noted. ‘At least I don’t. I can think the words and it works out fine.’

  ‘So saying, or thinking, the words, focuses the Intention?’

  They both nodded.

  ‘And don’t forget to also hold the object of your protection spell in the forefront of your mind at the same time,’ Fergie added. ‘So it helps to have it right in front of you.’

  ‘I don’t understand, where does the wand come in?’ I sat back on the bench, frustrated. ‘How am I supposed to keep my mind on three things at once?’

  They had no answer for me. For their part, they were finding it difficult to understand why I was floundering and couldn’t grasp these basic concepts they’d learned as children.

  ‘And what is a safety spell, anyway? That’s so... nebulous! Why can’t I do something more concrete, like, like filling water in a bowl, or turning my pen into
a butterfly?’ I was close to having a meltdown right on the spot.

  I looked up to see them both looking at me like I’d gone crazy.

  Fergie screwed up her face. ‘Why would you want to do either of those things?’

  ‘It’s not the season for butterflies,’ Sandy added.

  ‘So why would I want to put a safety spell on something? And how would I know?’

  ‘That’s easy,’ Fergie said.

  ‘You want to keep things safe, you know, from bullies.’ Sandy nodded to emphasize his point. ‘Like your lunch money.’

  ‘Or your favorite doll, so no one rips it away from you and tears the head off.’

  ‘That’s why this is one of the first spells they teach to kids,’ Sandy said, confidence building in his voice. ‘Sort of like magical martial arts.’

  ‘Why don’t we act like we’re the bullies and we want to take her pen?’

  ‘Yes, that’s a good idea,’ Sandy answered after a beat. ‘You got that Dara?’

  ‘Why would you want to take my pen?’

  ‘Because we’re bullies, and want to antagonize you,’ Sandy said.

  ‘And make life as miserable for you as possible.’

  I looked at my new friends, an inkling of understanding coming to light. ‘Like Witch Kin kids,’ I said. ‘Like my half-sister Sasha and her friends.’

  ‘Probably,’ Fergie said.

  ‘Okay, let’s do this,’ I said. I grasped that wand so hard I could feel the grain of the wood beneath my fingers, and I aimed it at the pen.

  ‘Remember, say the words, point the wand and focus your intention on not letting anyone else near that pen,’ Sandy urged.

  I squinted at the pen with the wand held straight, and repeated the words.

  ‘Lassen Keiner....’

  ‘Berurhen,’ Sandy prompted.

  ‘Berurhen dies.’ I hoped I was getting the pronunciation right.

  I felt something give, something small, but whether it was magic happening or just a blood vessel popping in my head I couldn’t tell. The pen still sat there; it wasn’t glowing or anything.