An Ignorant Witch

by E M Graham

  Hugh let himself back into the car and sat staring at me for a moment his brows drawn.

  “So Dirk came back,” I said hopefully. “Does that mean Alice gave up on it too?”

  He shook his head.

  “Dirk claims they got lost up on the headland, before they even reached the top of the hill. He said Alice was pushing him to continue, but he didn’t feel right.”

  “As in, he realized he was doing wrong?”

  Hugh shook his head again, his eyes now looking out to sea, at the full moonlight on the water. Despite the wind which was now building to a crescendo, the ocean was as flat as glass. The whole scene was discordantly set. It didn’t fit together.

  “No. He says there’s something afoot up there on the hills, and it’s more than the fairies.”

  “What’s worse than fairies up there?” I was whispering.

  “They couldn’t find the fairy den,” he continued, ignoring my question. “And then he says he came back down.”

  “You mean Alice is alone up there? In the dark with the fairies?” I shot up almost out of my seat and fumbled with the door handle of this unfamiliar European sports car. “How do I get out of this?”

  He put his hand on my arm. “Wait,” he said. “She came back down, too.”

  “What? Then why isn’t she answering the phone? Hugh, what’s going on?”

  “Dirk said she met with some friends at the bottom of the hill, they were parked waiting for her as she and he came off the track.”

  “That’s not right.” I shook my head. “Alice’s friends would never be hanging around Fort Amherst at night. They’re nerds, they’re not into night hikes.”

  “Unless they were Benjy’s friends?” Hugh looked at me.

  I shook my head again. Even less likely. Something didn’t fit. “Dirk wouldn’t know who they are, I suppose?”

  “Try her again,” Hugh said softly.

  I tapped my name on her phone, but it rang only once before starting that harsh pulse of disconnection.

  “I don’t want to worry you, but I don’t like the sounds of this,” he said. “She’s not answering the phone, you can give that up.”

  “Sal,” I told him. “I’m calling Alice’s sister, she’ll be able to tell me if Alice is home.”

  Sal was home, but didn’t want to get off her bed to go in search for her sibling. Instead she bawled out her sibling’s name as loud as she could.

  “I don’t think she’s here,” Sal told me in a bored voice. “Would you mind getting off the line now?”

  I hung up and shook my head at Hugh. “Nope.”

  He drummed his fingers against the leather covered steering wheel.

  “What are we going to do?”

  He shrugged. “We’re going to go home. To your father’s house, anyway.”

  “We can’t! Alice is out there somewhere, we have to find her!” I was adamant.

  “And where do you propose we look?”

  “You’re a witch!” I said. “Why don’t you try to find her telepathically?”

  “Why don’t you?” he retorted. “I don’t know Alice. You do. Go find her, now.”

  I stared at him. My mouth was probably open in surprise. “I’m just a half-blood, I can’t...”

  He raised an eyebrow. “No? How was that exam this morning?”

  I shut my mouth. I had boasted about that, hadn’t I?

  He put the car in gear. “Tell you what, we’ll go up to a physical vantage point, and I’ll give you some pointers on how to go about searching.”

  As we sped back along Southside Road, I admit to feeling a little excited despite the seriousness of the situation. Finally! Some education on how to use the gifts that had lain dormant for much of my life.

  We made it from the bridge right up to the end of Duckworth Street without hitting a red light once. I wanted to learn how to do that, too. To be able to direct all the traffic lights in my favour – well, that alone would be worth getting my driver’s license for.

  At the top of Signal Hill, Hugh parked facing the city. He nodded out to the expanse of St. John’s below us, stretching off for miles west and north.

  “Where is she?”

  “I thought you were going to show me how to look?”

  “You have to find your third eye first,” he said. “Come on, you’ve done it before. Don’t tell me you’ve never cheated off Alice in tests over the years? Similar thing. It’s just a matter of adjusting your focus.”

  I grinned at him. Yes, I was quite familiar with the inside of Alice’s head. Then I shut my eyes and sent feelers out, down and all through the city, trying to get a sense of the feeling of my friend.

  I shook my head and opened my eyes. “Nothing’s happening,” I said. “I can’t pick anything up.”

  “It’s not a radio signal,” he said, then thought a little more on the matter. “Well, perhaps it is rather like that. But at any rate, you need to go slowly. Let’s get out of the car, into the air, that might work better. But first – do you have anything belonging to her? That will help.”

  I took her phone out of my pocket. “Sure do,” I said, holding it out for him to see.

  I climbed down the short hill to the path by the reconstruction of the old fortifications, and stood on a bench. The wind was still rising, now so strong it threatened to blow me off altogether. I gripped the rough wooden fence and stared ahead of me.

  The city lights spread out before me. Somewhere, Alice was down there. She had to be. I closed my eyes and I could still picture the scene before me and I sent my feelers out.

  For a moment it felt like I was flying! I gasped and opened my eyes, turning to look at Hugh who was by now just standing a few feet behind me. He smiled.

  “Yes,” he said so softly I almost didn’t hear him. “That’s it. Keep on doing that, you won’t fall. Your body is still here. I’m with you.”

  I drew a deep breath and turned back to the busy streets below me. Looking down made me dizzy, and I stepped back a little.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I ... I...”

  I was scared. It felt like jumping off a cliff into unknown waters, or taking the first leap from the Marble Mountain zipline on our trip to the west coast last summer. I’d climbed to the landing stage and all I had to do was step off into the vast space before me with nothing but a wire keeping me from crashing onto the rocks of the waterfalls below, but that was a huge step for the mind to accept.

  “Alice,” Hugh reminded me.

  I shut my eyes and let myself go, pretending to feel safe in the knowledge that Hugh was right beside me. He was my wire over the falls.

  I pictured Water Street again, and then I was there, hovering over the slow moving cars and past the pedestrians, some of them drunk already this early in the evening, weaving and singing their way along the ancient streets.

  It was exhilarating! I found my wings and swooped down low, I could hear the words of the song as the crowd of students left the Black Sheep still roaring out their early Christmas tribute to the Pogues. I let myself rise again, and travelled further west to George Street. I could see the lights from the Rocket Cafe, and inside the windows people were sitting over coffee and cakes while a single bearded young man strummed his mandolin.

  Dancing back up into the air, I set my sights towards the north and east and up the steep hill of the old town. There were the churches and the Cathedral and the Basilica, all the old monuments to Christianity which had held sway over the land for so long. I could finally look into the blank stone stare of John the Baptist, instead of merely peeking up his skirt from the ground.

  “Alice,” Hugh’s voice reminded me again, whispering through my mind. I could feel him beside me, the warmth of his presence in my head.

  I paused mid-flight, sending my mental feelers out in search of the familiarity of my friend, but the city lay black and void of her beneath the bright lights. I pictured her, tall and willowy and fair, but found nothing.

  “Go fur
ther afield,” Hugh’s voice whispered. “She has to be somewhere.”

  I was tiring fast, even though I had not physically moved an inch. Pushing myself, I headed for the east end, around the dark waters of Quidi Vidi Lake, then back up New Town Road all the way to Dad’s house set back apart, surrounded in black acreage, a single lamppost marking the driveway. Was there something there? I was feeling a whisper of my friend.

  No, it was closer to downtown, over by Bannerman Park. A slight tinge to the air in the form of Alice. But what would she be doing in the park, or by the Colonial Building? I dropped in closer over the trees, almost exhausted and panting by now, but it must have been a trick of the light, for there was no feeling of Alice there now.

  I crumpled onto the bench, my head almost striking the splintering wood of the barricade and I forced myself to sit, and catch my breath.

  I looked up at Hugh, who was staring at me in the reflected light of the city, his face unreadable.

  18

  HE CAME AND SAT NEXT to me, putting his arm around me to allow me to lean into him. He was strong and solid. I laid my head on his shoulder, the black leather cool to my cheek, and I hid my face from the wind.

  “You did great,” he said softly into my ear.

  “Could you see me?” I lifted my head in wonder.

  “I was right behind you, all the way.” He gave a deep low laugh. “You used to peek up the skirt of John the Baptist?”

  I spluttered, releasing the tension in my body. He really had been there, beside me and in my head. It hadn’t been my imagination. “Could never see anything, though. He wears a loincloth.”

  I had flown, in my thoughts at any rate. I sat for a moment further, remembering the feeling of the wind and my flight.

  “That was beautiful,” I breathed. “I want to fly again. Is this what witches do?” His body was warm and smelled of leather and spices. I felt him nod slowly, but could tell his mind was elsewhere.

  He stood, pulling me up out of the shelter of the fence. The fierce wind whipped my hair in every direction, stinging my eyes. I almost fell, overcome with a sudden exhaustion.

  “We have to go back now.”

  “But Alice! I didn’t find Alice,” I raised my voice weakly over the wind.

  He shook his head. “You need food again, and rest,” he said. “After what you’ve just done. I shouldn’t have allowed you to do so much.”

  “But...”

  He looked down at me.

  “I want to try it again, but in Alt.”

  His eyes widened. “I don’t think so!”

  “In Alt, I’ll be able to see more, get a sense of if there’s anything... supernatural that has her. Dirk said it was witches, right?”

  “No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head. “No, not a chance am I going to be responsible for that.” He led me back up to the Batmobile and clicking the little box in his hand, my door swung open. He made sure I was belted in before shutting the door and returning to his own seat.

  We went back to Dad’s house, Hugh firmly insisting that he wasn’t letting me out of his reach again despite my protests that I wanted to sleep in my own bed that night. After my experience in the library that day, I didn’t want anything to do with Sasha, didn’t want to risk seeing her all smug and sneering in Cate’s kitchen, because I might just have to might kill her. Even after I told him this, he still refused to bring me home.

  Fortunately, my sister was making herself scarce.

  He rustled up some roast turkey and other leftovers, heating them up in the microwave. I watched him putter about the cold space.

  “Why don’t you just, I don’t know, magic it hot?”

  He turned to look at me as if he didn’t know what I was talking about.

  “Instead of wasting electricity on the microwave oven,” I said. “Besides, aren’t those rays supposed to be harmful to food?”

  “You think ingesting magical energy is less harmful?” He set the plate in front of me and I began to eat, surprising myself by how ravenous I suddenly was again, despite having eaten not so long ago.

  “First pointer about magic,” he said as he sat himself across the island from me. The overhead pendant light shone on his dark hair and made the gold specks in his eyes glitter. “It is not to be used indiscriminately or for fun. You have to have a damn good reason to use it.”

  “But it’s so much easier,” I objected, between mouthfuls.

  “Magic energy accumulates,” he said shortly.

  “Sasha’s friends were using it on my coffee this morning, after my exam,” I said. “They were making waves in my paper cup.”

  He set his mouth grimly. “They are foolish, then, ignoring the basic laws of the craft. If they’d been trained to respect the power, they would never do such a thing. It can accumulate, as I said, and come back to haunt them. This is another reason all witches should receive proper education. I fear your local educational system leaves something to be desired.”

  I shook my head. “They all got sent away during summers and for finishing school,” I said. “All the local ones from here, all the friends she’s had for years anyway. I don’t know about Seth, though. He’s not from here.”

  “Who’s he, then?”

  “You haven’t met her boyfriend?”

  Hugh’s eyebrows rose. God, that man had the best, finest, thickest brows I’d ever seen.

  “I’m not surprised,” I said. “From how she’s been looking at you, I think she has a crush on you. And Seth, he’s only been hanging around the past year or so, off and on. I don’t think he’s even a student at MUN. But he’s sort of creepy.... I don’t know if he’s really good for her.” I was not, not going to tell Hugh about my experience in the library with those two sitting across from me.

  He became very still, his eyes watching me closely. “Seth,” he repeated.

  I paused before the last bite of turkey made it to my mouth. “Did I say something wrong?” My heart was sinking, for I felt I’d put my foot in it somehow.

  He hurried me off upstairs after I’d finished without answering my question.

  The bed was softer than I remembered, more welcoming than the night before, or maybe I was just plain worn out. Before I dropped off though, Hugh’s reaction to the mention of Seth was bugging me.

  I wondered what Hugh’s real reason was for coming to St. John’s, and staying at Dad’s house. He’d said he was here to investigate prejudice and something, but... I wondered.

  Dad and Cate’s families were traditional in that they always had arranged marriages for the scions of their houses, carefully considering bloodlines and political power structures before a choice was made.

  Was Hugh here to be vetted as a husband for Sasha? Was that why he went all quiet at the mention of Sasha’s boyfriend?

  But the Scotsman claimed to be a half-blood and surely to God Cate would never allow her daughter or her future grand-children to be tainted in that way. Yet, he was here in her house as a guest because he was in town for official Witch Kin business. Something didn’t add up.

  What did he have that allowed him to cross the chasm of prejudice? Who was Hugh Sabiston?

  THE WEATHER HADN’T LET UP by the next morning. If anything the wind was even stronger. As I looked out the kitchen window to the north, I could see clouds scudding across the otherwise blue sky.

  I’d hoped to be getting back to our search for Alice because she still wasn’t answering my calls. Sal was refusing to pick up my calls too, but that was probably just fifteen year old cussedness. However, Hugh was not interested in finding my friend today.

  “Later,” he said. “It’ll all come together later. Right now, I have to check something out, and I’m afraid I have no choice but to bring you with me.”

  I really needed a change of clothing, for there was no way I was going to ask Cate about her laundry facilities, so Hugh agreed to bring me home. We took Dad’s big midnight blue SUV this time.

  “We’re going off-roading,�
� he said, when I asked.

  “So I take it I’m not going to classes today.” I was okay with that, really I was.

  He’d taken a right to go down Warbury Street, when I spotted Jane up in the distance with her kids all around her.

  “Stop here,” I said to him. I had to find out about the baby. He made no move to slow down.

  “Oh come off it, Hugh,” I said. “I’m not going to make a run for it! I need to see how Jane is, and apologize for the other night.”

  I got out of Dad’s Mercedes and approached my ex-friend with caution. The kids saw me and squealed with joy as they began running towards me.

  A curt word from Jane stopped them in their tracks, and they looked back her with guilty eyes. She stared at me, her eyes narrowed into tiny mean slits.

  The baby was in one of those old-fashioned prams with the big hood protecting her, the kind English nannies used back in Edwardian London.

  “Hey Jane,” I said. “How’s the baby?” I edged closer to her, trying to peer over the hood.

  “Get away from us,” she said, pulling the handle so the pram turned. “The baby is fine, no thanks to you.”

  A weak cry sounded from the depths of the pram. That didn’t sound good – that infant had had the finest set of lungs on her before I’d gone and let the fairy into the house.

  I came up next to her and quickly looked into the pram and got a fast glimpse at the redheaded cherub. Our eyes met, and I swear I heard an evil chuckle. It may have been gas.

  Jane elbowed me out of the way. “Leave us alone!” She stalked down the street, forcing the kids to hurry after her.

  I mumbled my apologies yet again and got back in the vehicle where Hugh waited.

  “Is it a changeling?”

  I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure it is, yeah.”

  He silently drew up to our back door.

  “I’ll just be a minute,” I said. “Unless you want to come in to keep tabs on me?”

  He shook his head. “We may have to hike for a bit,” he said. “Wear jeans and running shoes.”

  “And by running shoes you mean sneakers?” As if there was anything in my wardrobe but. “Don’t think that’ll be a problem.”