Mathilda, SuperWitch

by Kristen Ashley

  “Banish it, now!” he ordered again as the pixie dust started to come down but it wasn’t pink, it was blazing blue. “Mathilda!” he clipped.

  I snapped out of it and said quickly,

  “Back to my wand, dark magic flee,

  As I will, so mote it be!”

  All the sparks flew at me with what seemed like great velocity, plunging back into my wand, driving my wrist against Sebastian’s hand as we both (with some difficulty and not a little pain) held my wand straight upwards.

  When every flash, twinkle and glimmer was absorbed into my wand, I felt the heat in it burn me and I cried out, opening my fist and letting it go. It fell to the path between Sebastian and I and we jumped apart just as it exploded in a flash of blue and white light.

  I didn’t have time to react or even think as Sebastian grabbed me and pulled me out to the street. He stopped the both of us, pulled me close to him and did this thing with his arm like Batman would do with his cape except he didn’t have a cape.

  I saw the world turn to a shimmer around us and then he grabbed me again and pulled me toward Poet’s Walk.

  “Stop!” I shouted but he didn’t say anything and kept going, dragging me with him. “Stop right now!” I kinda repeated, still shouting.

  He stopped all right and I slammed right into him. And before I could step away, he took my upper arms and hauled me right up against his (very hard) body (yikes). He wasn’t looking at me but over my shoulder.

  Then he told me, “We have to go, the glamour won’t last long.” (Er, wha?)

  And off we went again.

  I didn’t say a word just ran after him all the way up the Walk and into The Gables and right to my rooms where I figured I’d be safe to let him have it.

  We both flew into the room, he closed the door and flipped on the light and before he could get out a word or even close the door…

  “What the fuck was that about?” I shouted.

  I was angry, really angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry.

  “Mathilda, you know better than that,” he replied and I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was pretty angry too which pissed me off more because what did he have to be angry about?

  “Know better than what? That woman is beating that boy right now. God only knows –”

  He interrupted me impatiently, “A witch never meddles unless she’s invited, never. It’s elementary Wiccan Creed. At the very least, you should know that.”

  Ack!

  Okay, so, I’d read a lot in the past month (a lot, a lot) and been told a lot (a lot, a lot) about not ever doing magic to others unless I’d been asked. A non-magical person or an innocent must always seek magic before it’s performed. That was Canon Number One in the Magical World.

  Fuck.

  “So what do you do?” I asked. “Walk away? Watch? The faeries took me there. I couldn’t stand around and do nothing!”

  “You don’t have a choice,” he stated, like it was as simple as that.

  “Well that sucks!” I told him. “That really sucks.”

  And then I let it all hang out, about the café and Wesley and velvet couches and expensive tile (though didn’t get into Aidan, the plumber) and boring coven meetings and faeries never letting me sleep and trees talking to me and now my wand had exploded and that little boy was being beaten by his Mom and I didn’t even want to think about that poor, cute puppy. Then I started talking about being homesick (ack! where did that come from?) and my nightmares of never entering another Saks Fifth Avenue for as long as I live and how aggravating that I can’t find a MAC counter within a fifty mile radius and no matter how cool, TopShop… just… does not… cut it (I mean, we all aren’t Kate Moss and can’t pull off that rock ‘n’ roll waif look). Then I finished with…

  “What’s the point of being SuperWitch if I have to flit around making brownies and mochaccinos and wait for people to ask me for help? That’s just stupid. Batman doesn’t wait for people to ask for help! What do I do, get a big red phone and hope it rings?”

  He was quiet through my tirade and, after, he studied me for a bit and then said, “You look exhausted.”

  Ack!

  “Great, that helps a lot, Sebastian. Thanks. I am exhausted. No fucking duh.”

  I was too mad to be any good with a comeback.

  He looked impatient. “You’re doing too much with the café. You should be focusing on The Craft. I’ll talk with Mavis.”

  “Good! While you’re at it tell her I’ll take the brownies and mochaccinos over faeries guiding me to abused children I can’t help and if she says no then I’m just going to go home because having to wait to be asked to fulfill The Prophesy of The Chosen One really sucks.”

  And then, unfortunately, I burst out crying.

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

  Like all men faced with intense, unheralded female emotion, he just stood there staring at me. Brooding, sexy Sebastian all of a sudden faced with a crying woman became impatient (or more impatient) and uncomfortable.

  Fucking men, they have no idea how to deal.

  Then he came up, wrapped his strong arms around me and hugged me (which, I have to admit, was kinda nice). Then he walked me to the couch and sat down with me. And I didn’t care if he was uncomfortable, I just sat next to him and pushed in close and cried and cried and cried.

  Somewhere in the middle of crying and/or snuffling, I fell asleep and when I woke up awhile ago, Sebastian was gone, morning had broken, my hand hurt and I felt like hell.

  And I miss home, I miss my friends, I miss Oreo Double Stuff cookies and Banana Republic and…

  I lost my fucking wand and I have the strange feeling that the tree is mad at me.

  30 November

  (Have plan.)

  Had long talk with Mavis and she explained Life of Witch containing:

  a) Frustration (want to do good deeds, people scared of you);

  b) Frustration (hunted, hiding, protected);

  c) Frustration (myths o’ Satan worship, dark lore).

  “Silly really,” Mavis said (understatement).

  It was explained that rules were rules, tinkering with the innocent without their permission rarely leads to good things (yadda yadda yadda – what about the not-so-innocents?). No matter, seriously frowned on in the magical world no ifs, ands or buts.

  In the end, she told me to get used to frustration and persevere, I had my calling and that was that.

  She explained, “We have to be careful, history has taught us the art of cloaking our powers. Those that can find us, who open their hearts and minds, will find us.”

  Blah, blah, blah.

  And then she said (and this was good)…

  “It’s not like we can put out a shingle.”

  (Mm.)

  I thought that was interesting.

  I took the rest of the day and went to Glastonbury and poked around a bit and noticed something important.

  Auntie Mavis is wrong.

  You could put out a shingle.

  Others had done it, right out in the open. Sure they were new-agey and reeked of patchouli but they weren’t hiding, that’s for certain.

  Last night, I set my alarm for 2:30 a.m. and woke myself up (crazy, now waking myself up in middle of the night).

  I got dressed, put on my witch cloak and went to the tower room to get the bolline which I wrapped in my black velvet alter cloth.

  I then headed straight to the kitchen and cut off a huge chunk of chocolate maraschino cherry cake (one of my favorites) and wrapped it in a tea towel (feeling this had better work as would be serious waste of chocolate cherry cake).

  Then I went to my tree.

  On my knees next to my tree, I put my forehead against the trunk. I could feel nothing; it wasn’t talking to me tonight (probably still angry I’d blown up its branch in a fit of (justified) rage).

  I wasn’t giving up.

  “Please, Tree, can I have another branch? I promise to take better care of it and
learn to be a good witch.”

  Nothing.

  “Cross my heart.”

  More nothing.

  Didn’t want to promise to hope to die because, well, too close for comfort.

  So I brought out the big guns and took the cake and set it at the base of the tree.

  “Please. If you know me at all, you know that’s a lot of chocolate maraschino cherry cake and that’s quite an offering from me, let me tell you.”

  I heard the wind, the branches swayed halfheartedly.

  “It’s a really big slice. Look at it.”

  More swaying, stronger now.

  “And yummy. Really yummy. Trust me.”

  More swaying, definitely getting something…

  And then a branch came down and scraped my face.

  I grabbed it on the upswing and sliced it off. It was thicker, slightly more gnarled than my last bit. I threw my arms around the tree, hugged it and said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” and carefully wrapped my new wand in the velvet with the bolline.

  * * * * *

  The next morning I came down to the kitchen and Mavis was sitting at the big table, drinking coffee and staring at the sea.

  I got my cup and walked to the table then tossed out the velvet with a flourish so that my new wand and the bolline flew out and slid across the table. (Dramatic, I know, but I was making a point and I didn’t want it to be missed.)

  I sat down and said, “I want to name the coffee house ‘The Witches Dozen’.”

  Her eyes were glowing with a strange light as she looked at the wand and me. It scared me a little bit but I held my own in the freaky Wiccan staring contest.

  Then my wand started to vibrate and clatter on the table. We watched it as it jumped around and then it whizzed across the table and into my hand just like I was Luke Skywalker and it was my light saber.

  I have to say it was totally fucking cool!

  “So,” I said, ‘The Witches Dozen’?”

  And Mavis looked over my shoulder and as I turned to see what she was looking at (Sebastian leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed on his chest, the usual impenetrable look on his face), I heard Mavis say (sounding all pleased with herself like it was her idea), “That has a nice ring to it.”

  Yee ha! The witches were in business!

  Chapter Two

  The Month of December

  11 December

  Too busy to write much.

  New lease on Wicca and am busy training. Mavis and coven have been very supportive.

  Yay!

  Plans in full swing for Grand Opening of The Witches Dozen Coffee House on New Year’s Eve.

  Yay!

  New Year’s party is posh dress, so going to London to buy myself a new outfit.

  Yay!

  Harvey Nichols, here I come.

  Yayayay!

  Was Mavis’s idea and although lots of work, will be very fun.

  Wesley threw hissy fit last week when I told workers to cut half star shape into hardwood floor/all-weather matt at front door and then to embed carpet sliver moon shape in middle of café.

  Told Wesley was sick of his attitude and would be happy to allow him to move on to new client if I was being too difficult. Seemed to quiet down and no more hissy fits since.

  Yay!

  Hired staff member/baker/barista and she is lovely. Her name is Lucinda and she may be first new friend in England.

  Yay!

  Called Aidan on mobile and asked him if he’d like to go to Grand Opening (as was project’s plumber and entitled to see finished product in action). (Ack!)

  He paused for a (very) long time and then said this:

  “A bit short notice.”

  I said:

  “Oh, sorry.”

  (Cambridge-educated plumber Aidan probably going to big party with Princes William and Harry or something.)

  He paused again and then said, kinda quiet and very sexy:

  “I’ll change my plans.”

  Yayayayayayayay!

  No William and Harry – just me! (And all the other people at the party but still.)

  Yay!

  (May be baddie but can use him for personal sexual pleasure then vanquish him or something.)

  Had espresso machine lesson and although Pandora (another member of our coven) had a bit of trouble with it (her curse caused a minor delay when espresso machine only gave out burgundy sludge with gold flecks in – Octavia had to mindwash espresso machine teacher man (don’t worry – mindwashes not done very often, only in urgent situations like said espresso machine mishap) while Mavis released machine from curse – was sort of amusing (only after curse was lifted and I wasn’t having silent conniptions at maybe having to buy another £3,500 espresso machine!), rest of coven showed signs of being natural-born baristas (with Fay and Beatrice being obvious standouts).

  Only bad thing is Sebastian has taken to having breakfast in the kitchen. He is always there when I arrive in morning, sitting with his long legs stretched out and reading The Times. Does not say good morning and did not appear to recognize or appreciate my early attempts to look attractive once I realized he was going to make a habit of breakfast sharing. So have given up and come down in fluffy slippers, flannel pajama bottoms, sweatshirts and no makeup.

  Screw him.

  (Mm.)

  PS: No sign of the boy.

  PPSS: Or his dog.

  Chapter Three

  The Month of January

  2 January

  Witches Dozen a Huge Success!!!!!!!

  First, must report that I found a great outfit for Grand Opening, simple little black dress – sexy cleavage, showed good leg and clingy but without being slutty. Nice.

  The shoes were (I must say) kickass (tad expensive but never feel guilty when buying expensive shoes as always prove to be totally worth it).

  The piece de resistance was the fab wrap that was all webby and lacy in way of Stevie Nicks (“Stand Back, Stand Back!”)

  Second, had so much fun cooking with Lucy pre-party. She is a total giggle and a great cook so feel some pressure taken off me. Food at Grand Opening was very big success with Lucy and me at the helm so am relieved.

  Third, Mavis told me to be ready early (early? nutty) as had some important things to go over with me. We took taxi to Coffee House (is walking distance but not in four inch heels).

  When we got there the coven was already there. All the ladies dressed to the hilt and made up, I was proud of them as a few had taken some of my subtle (ahem) hints.

  The blinds were closed, the decorations up and all was ready to be laid out for the party.

  The coven had lit tons of candles, incense and there was soft music.

  We had a glass of champagne and toasted The Witches Dozen (yay!).

  Then they formed a circle around me while I stood in the middle of the sliver moon carpet and they told me to close my eyes and hold out my hands.

  There was some chanting and when I opened my eyes again there was a big broomstick laid across my palms. It was gorgeous. Yay!

  The handle was laced with satin and velvet ribbons in a bunch of bright colors with the ends hanging amongst the bristles (so pretty).

  With great ceremony, I hung it on the front door and I felt happy thoughts about being a witch and a part of my coven who had woven good charms into broom (and thus whole coffee house).

  Felt powerful and warm and loved.

  * * * * *

  Grand Opening:

  All things going well as:

  Complexion had decided against stress-induced breakouts (!);

  Regardless of loads of testing of culinary delights – dress still fit (!!);

  And shoes were miraculously comfortable even though they were drop-dead gorgeous (!!!).

  (All magic?)

  Guest list was huge and most everyone came and were very complimentary on décor (ha! take that Stupid Wesley!) and food (yee ha!).

  Lucy and I decided we deserved to get a little drunki
e poo and Lucy had very nice boyfriend who didn’t mind making sure our champagne glasses were always full. (Good boyfriend.)

  Began to worry about Aidan as night was no longer young. Also surprised by Sebastian for, as far as I could tell, I still had a body and he was meant to guard it but was nowhere to be seen. (Shirking duties?)

  Would not let apparent abandonment of male units in life ruin my evening. (Humph! Why did I spend so long finding perfect dress, fuck-me shoes and Stevie Nicks wrap when no one to appreciate it but Lucy?)

  Then felt a hand on my waist.

  Turned around, thinking it would be Sebastian there to be wet blanket but it was Aidan.

  He looked delicious with nice suit and tie replacing usual jeans and t-shirt.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said.

  Mm.

  Was not upset, was drunk and happy and had successful café and many friends and pretty broomstick and very lovely man standing next to me.

  Mm.

  “Congratulations,” he went on (meaning hit of café, not successfully finding perfect not-too-tarty outfit, although the way he was looking at me made me think it was more the outfit.)

  Rest of night dreamy as Aidan was gentleman to Mavis and other once alarming coven members he met at tasting party, funny and charming to Lucy and boyfriend and all around perfect date (as was clearly date – yay!).

  Peculiar feeling of being all tingly because was really happy (forgot how it felt!) that all the hard work and my vision were to be appreciated and…

  Then everyone started to get very excited as New Year was coming and ten, nine, eight…

  And all of a sudden I was kissing Aidan (oh my and yowza) and then…

  Aidan backed off looking really annoyed and all of a sudden there was Sebastian.

  And then… (bah!)…

  Sebastian kissed me!!!!

  Ack!

  Not the yowza kiss of Aidan, instead, brushed his lips against mine and then leaned in and semi-whispered, “Happy New Year,” in my ear.

  And then he was gone.

  Can you believe?

  (Must admit, lips all tingly and not sure if it was from intense-plumber-kiss but may have been from whisper-soft-bodyguard kiss but don’t know… hmm.)

  Later, during girlie bathroom break, Lucy said this: