by Elle Adams
I approached Dritch & Co’s office with some trepidation, but Veronica wasn’t in the reception area waiting to chastise me for being late. Callie, the blond receptionist, gave me a cheery wave as I walked in.
“Glad to see you’re back, Blair.”
“Same here.” Despite the occasional troublesome client, working at Dritch & Co was the best job I’d had in my adult life—and the longest I’d lasted in any position, come to that. “Is the boss around?”
“She’s playing catch-up,” she said. “Everyone else is already in.”
“Thought so.” I went to the door leading into the main office at the back. As I entered, the printer sang a greeting to the tune of ‘O Christmas Tree’. Despite it still being in holiday mode, most of the decorations had been taken down while I’d been gone, including the creepy life-sized snowmen the boss had procured for our office party on Christmas Eve.
“Hey,” I said to the others.
Bethan waved at me from the desk beside mine, her pile of paperwork somehow twice as high as mine despite my absence. Since her magical gift involved being able to work much faster than the average person, I suspected she’d taken on the bulk of my workload while I’d been gone.
Opposite me sat Rob, nephew of the chief of the local werewolves, while at his side sat Lizzie, our office’s technological expert and the maker of the coffee machine I desperately needed right now. I went to get myself a mug of one of her trademark mood-boosting coffees to wake me up, hoping that it would also kick my brain into gear.
Sitting down at my desk, I picked up the stack of papers, and the word market jumped out at me from the first sheet.
“The town’s first goblin market is in need of assistants,” I read. “What’s a goblin market?”
“The goblin market travels between magical towns, and it’s coming here this weekend,” said Bethan. “It’s been roaming all over the region, so we knew it’d be here soon, and we always need extra staff on security duty to make sure nobody causes any trouble.”
Hold on. My dad’s note had mentioned a market. Might he have known the goblin market was coming to Fairy Falls?
“And it’s staffed by goblins,” I read.
Goblins were a relation of the fairies, albeit a distant one, and there weren’t many living here in Fairy Falls. Not compared to the elves, anyway. But I knew of no other markets in the area.
“The goblins run the show,” said Lizzie. “But the market picks up people as it moves between locations. Since people come from all over to visit the market, it’s always good for local businesses.”
“So I have to call these business owners and ask if they want to take part?” I scanned the list in front of me.
“Most of them will already know about the market, so it’s a fairly straightforward job,” said Bethan. “I thought it’d be easier for you to start off with that, since our other client is that eccentric wizard from Manchester who insists on making all his potential employees memorise a hundred-page rulebook before their interview.”
“Yeah, I’d much rather deal with goblins over that guy.” I turned to the list and busied myself with the tasks of the day, trying not to dwell on my dad’s note any more than I had to. Start with the market, he’d said. Assuming he’d meant the goblin market, it shouldn’t be hard to pay a visit there once it showed up in Fairy Falls.
And if it was as popular as the others claimed, then nobody would have to know my plan to get hold of a Pixie-Glass and contact my father.
After work, I headed to my first magic lesson of the new year. I took classes in the evenings several days a week, alongside Rebecca, the region’s current Head Witch. At eleven, she was the all-time youngest witch to ever hold the title, and she’d been chosen by the ceremonial sceptre by complete accident when someone else had stolen it from the hands of the last Head Witch. I’d taken a liking to Rebecca, since she was one of few people who understood my outsider status. She’d grown up under the thumb of her terrifying mother, who’d exploited her magical ability to influence people’s personalities merely by looking them in the eye. I’d seen to Mrs Dailey’s imprisonment, and as a result, Rebecca and I had bonded. Since nobody else was behind enough in their magical education to join me in my lessons, Rebecca and I took after-school classes together.
I entered the large brick building that housed the leading witch coven and made my way to the usual classroom. Rita, the red-haired witch who ran my classes, waved a bangled arm at me from the front of the room. Rebecca herself already sat in the front row, the Head Witch’s ceremonial sceptre propped against her chair.
“How was your holiday, Blair?” asked Rita. “I hope you’re ready to get back to lessons.”
“Great, thank you,” I said. “I’m ready to start.”
Not exactly true. I’d taken a break from anything work-related while I’d been away with Nathan, and now my brain felt like a leaky faucet, as far as my magical knowledge was concerned.
To say my magical education had been riddled with bumps was like saying gargoyles were a little grumpy. I was a natural at some kinds of magic—like my innate ability to tell what type of paranormal someone was at first glance, and to sense whether someone was telling the truth or not—but inconsistent with others. Like most everyday branches of magic, for instance. If my emotions ran high, my sense of control flew out the window, so I’d need to put all thoughts of Dad’s letter and my foster parents’ return to the country from my mind if I wanted to perform well.
“Good, because we have a lot of ground to cover,” said Rita. “Starting with your Grade Four training. This is going to be a little different than your magical education so far.”
I’d expected as much. Grade Four covered the ages from nine through twelve, while Grade Five went up to sixteen. That meant I’d have more tests and hoops to jump through than I’d encountered previously, without ascending a grade until I’d mastered some pretty advanced spells. Right now, I was struggling to remember how to cast a basic unlocking charm. Why hadn’t I thought to recap my last term’s studies last night? Oh, right, because I’d been trying to think of ways to entertain my foster parents without letting on that I spent my evenings learning how to turn hats into hares. Focus, Blair.
“The Grade Four testing is divided into four sections,” she went on. “Like Grade Three, you’ll have a practical exam and a theory one, as well as testing in alchemy and potion-making. However, your theory exam will be broken into sections, including new modules on magical history and other subjects. Your practical test will also cover some basic hexes as well as the spells you’re accustomed to. You’ll be learning more advanced techniques, as well as how to work with a partner. And finally, you’ll have to pick one specialist area to focus on.”
I should had guessed there’d be a catch. My last ‘specialist’ test had involved trying to mount a broomstick and humiliating myself in front of a bunch of schoolchildren. I’d barely passed the actual exam, but the alternatives were trying to get Sky to act like a witch’s familiar or learning some other skill I’d never tried before. I’d need to think about that one. Rebecca wasn’t far behind me, but she’d likely catch up to her peers by the end of the school year, which would bring an end to our magical lessons together. Still, that was months away, and we had a lot of material to cover in the meantime. The sheer size of this year’s textbook was proof of that.
“However,” said Rita, “I’ve decided to adapt your curriculum to take into account your current circumstances. That means you, Rebecca.”
“You mean being Head Witch?” asked Rebecca. “Why? I thought the tests I passed would be enough.”
“They’re enough to satisfy the council,” she said, “but soon, you’ll be touring the local witch communities. I think it would be a prudent to cover some groundwork in defensive spells, and Blair, too, would benefit to being able to defend herself with magic. You know how to use spells in self-defence, yes, but you haven’t covered any magical shields or wards yet.”
Nope, because if
they go wrong, they blow up in my face. But I knew where she was coming from. Many coven members resented the fact that Rebecca had been chosen as Head Witch, so knowing how to defend herself would come in handy. As for me, the level of trouble I attracted was higher than almost everyone else in town.
“What do you think, Blair?” she asked.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll give it a go.”
“Good.” Rita raised her wand. “I will demonstrate a basic shielding spell.”
Rita waved her wand in a zigzag motion. I watched her, trying to memorise the movement. Then she repeated the spell again. “Rebecca, I’d suggest using your wand at first and switching to the sceptre once you’ve got the hang of the basics.”
“All right.” Rebecca pulled out her own wand, and the two of us prepared to follow Rita’s lead.
I waved my wand in a zigzag motion, and a jet of glittering light shot out the end of my wand, fizzling out upon contact with the wall.
“That wasn’t a shield, Blair,” said Rita. “You need to give it more force—without the jabbing motion.”
She walked between us, correcting our movements as we practised over and over again. You wouldn’t think there’d be much potential for destruction in a spell designed for self-defence, but I managed to knock over the desk three times, even so.
After a few minutes of practise, Rita called us to attention. “Now it’s time to pair up. Stand here—out of range of the desks—and try to keep your wands pointed at one another to minimise the risk. You’ll have to take it in turns. One of you will aim an offensive spell at the other—try to keep it a mild one, like levitation—and the other will conjure a shield to repel it.”
I stepped out in front of Rebecca, gripping my wand in my hand. Since she’d passed the inspection on the solstice and had been assessed by the leaders of the regional witch covens, Rebecca would be starting her meetings with the other local witch communities soon, and I knew she was nervous about representing the whole town. I had to do my best for her.
Rebecca raised her wand and fired a spell at me. I waved mine in defence, but instead of conjuring a shield, a jet of glitter shot from my wand, splattering the wall.
Rita vanished it with a wave of her own wand. “Really, Blair.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I’m a bit out of practise.”
Maybe my wand was rusty from lack of use. I gave it a slight shake, and more glitter trickled out the end. I tried to pretend I’d done it on purpose and faced Rebecca with a smile. “I’m ready.”
Rebecca executed a perfect levitation spell. I swooped high into the air and would have cracked my head on the ceiling if I hadn’t switched on my levitating boots at the last second. Flipping over in mid-air, I caught my balance and floated back to earth.
“Blair, remember to actually wave your wand next time,” Rita said in exasperated tones. “Relax, Blair, and focus on Rebecca.”
Once more, Rebecca waved her wand. I moved mine in retaliation, and a rush of air escaped the end of my wand, rattling the shelves.
“Slower, Blair,” she reprimanded. “If you move that fast, you’ll be lucky to keep hold of your wand.”
“Sorry.” I hung my head.
She exhaled in a sigh. “Switch positions. Blair, you cast a spell on Rebecca. Rebecca, defend yourself.”
I took aim, seeing Rebecca’s obvious nerves, and waved my wand. As I did so, a shrieking noise came from outside, and my balance slipped. My spell bounced off the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster. Rebecca, meanwhile, dropped her own wand on the floor.
Rita pursed her lips. With a flick of her wand, she sealed the hole in the wall. It wasn’t the first time one of us had hit the wall instead of our intended target.
The shrieking noise struck up again, louder. It sounded like a person, screaming in pain.
“Someone’s hurt out there.” I made for the door, Rebecca on my heels, and peered out of the classroom just as the front doors to the building burst open.
A man came staggering into the entrance hall, shrieking at the top of his voice. He had a mop of auburn hair and his eyes were wide with terror. From the look of his clothes, he’d had a swim in the lake and then rolled around in the mud, yet my paranormal-sensing power didn’t peg him as a werewolf.
Rita pushed past me into the entrance hall, aiming her wand at the intruder.
“Excuse me!” Rita said. “You’re disturbing my classes. What are you doing?”
He jabbed a finger at me. “You’re all monsters.”
Well. That wasn’t what I needed to hear, especially in my human form. “Who are you?”
“They’re chasing me!” He spun on the spot, pointing wildly at some invisible enemy. “They’re going to kill me.”
With a lurching movement, he ran for the stairs. Rita marched to intercept him before he went barging up into Madame Grey’s private rooms. “Stop this at once!” she commanded.
He jerked away from her, stumbling backwards onto the carpet and shedding leaves everywhere. “You’re monsters!”
“Believe me, we aren’t.” I walked closer, though I hadn’t the faintest idea what I was supposed to do. He wasn’t threatening anyone, just yelling at the top of his lungs and clearly terrified out of his mind. Heads poked out of the other classrooms as the noise drew the attention of the other witches and wizards.
The stranger whirled on me and jabbed a finger in my direction. “Wings, wings!”
Instinctively, I twisted my head around to look over my shoulder—but my wings were invisible, as they always were when I was in my human form. “What wings?”
“You’re one of them!” he yelled. “They’re everywhere.”
He could see my wings? That couldn’t be right. Nobody was supposed to be able to see through my glamour. No human was, anyway.
Strangely, my paranormal-sensing power still hadn’t kicked in. Usually, it went off the instant I laid eyes on someone, so reliable that by now it had become background noise. But for him, there was no response.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Rita waved her wand, and he keeled over, unconscious. “Clearly, someone put a spell on him. Does anyone know who he is?”
Confused murmurs came from the students peering out of the classrooms. I was sure I’d never seen him before, and while lay unconscious on the ground, my paranormal-sensing power remained quiet. Even with the Inquisitor, who I hadn’t been able to read, I’d picked up on something, even if I hadn’t been able to tell what he was.
“Who is he?” asked Rebecca. “He’s not a wizard.”
He wasn’t dressed like one, but then again, neither was I. Only those in positions of authority wore anything resembling a uniform. Like Madame Grey, for instance. “I don’t know.”
“Madame Grey isn’t in,” said Rita, “but this is not a matter for her to deal with. Unless he’s a wizard, which I doubt.”
“Then what are you going to do with him?” I asked.
“I’ll take him to the hospital,” she said. “He seems confused and disorientated, and even if he’s under a simple spell, they’ll be able to reverse it without disturbing Madame Grey. Rebecca, stay behind, and if you see your grandmother, send her my way. Blair, come with me.”
She flicked her wand, levitating the man through the oak doors and out into the street. Despite his dishevelled appearance, he didn’t look injured. Yet why hadn’t my paranormal-sensing power responded to him?
Alissa was working the evening shift up at the hospital, so I sent her a quick text as we made our way out of the witches’ headquarters. Another flick of Rita’s wand, and the stranger floated alongside us, up the high street and into the brick building that housed the town’s hospital for magical injuries.
We entered the reception area, where Rita flagged down a passing nurse and asked her to fetch Alissa. After a moment, Alissa ran out of a side room.
“Hey, Blair,” she said. “What’s wrong with that guy?”
“We found him running around the witches’ headquart
ers, raving,” Rita explained. “I believe he’s under a spell, or under the effects of some hallucinatory substance. Since he was behaving erratically, I thought it would be best to bring him here. For his own safety, as well as others.”
“Okay,” said Alissa. “I’ll see what I can do with him.”
When she waved her wand, the man’s eyes flew open, and he screamed, “Monsters!”
“What’s your name?” Alissa asked the stranger.
In answer, he let out an unintelligible yell.
“Where do you come from?” asked Alissa. “Are you from Fairy Falls? Or Fox Hollow?”
“Monsters!” he screamed. “Nothing but monsters!”
Her brow furrowed. “All right, lie still. I’ll make the monsters go away.”
He shook his head. “You can’t. You can’t!”
“Hold on.” Alissa moved in, and with a flick of her wand, he fell unconscious again. “I’ll get him somewhere he can’t disturb the other patients.”
She levitated him through a door and into one of the wards, while I remained behind with Rita. “He’s not from Fairy Falls, but where is he from? Do you know?”
“I doubt he’s from a local coven,” said Rita. “If he was a wizard, he’d have tried to use magic in self-defence by now if he really feared for his safety. I’ll fetch Madame Grey, and she’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Is my lesson over, then?” I asked.
“Yes, it is,” she said. “I doubt this matter will help your concentration, Blair.”
No kidding. A stranger raving about monsters wasn’t even in the top ten of my weirdest experiences in Fairy Falls, but I could count on one hand the number of times my paranormal-sensing power had failed to respond to someone. On at least one of those occasions, the person in question had been dead, but it even worked on the undead. Vampires, anyway. Not ghosts, though, but this guy was as solid as me. He wasn’t a fairy, I was sure, but something about him bothered me in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. Something other than his raving about me being a monster, that is.
After a few minutes, the front door opened, and Madame Grey entered the waiting room. Tall and imposing, she wore her white hair braided down her back over her trademark grey cloak and her horn-rimmed spectacles were perched on the end of her nose.
