by Tiegan Clyne
When Charlie woke again, it was dark outside, and Matilda had put her work aside. He yawned and stretched, his ears and tail shivering.
“Good evening,” Matilda greeted.
/Good evening./
“I’m glad you’re awake. Now I can stand up and make us some supper.”
He hopped down and licked his paw before he swiped it over his face to put his whiskers back in order. /What’s for dinner?/
“I thought perhaps a little creamed herring for you and a grilled ham sandwich for me.” Charlie followed her into the kitchen. Matilda added more water to his dish and looked at him.
“So... who were you spying on?”
If Charlie had been human, he would have blushed. /Oh… you saw that, I guess./
“I guess.”
He jumped up onto the counter and watched her as she assembled the ingredients for their dinner. /I wanted to know what Susannah was saying./
“And?”
He blew a heavy breath out through his nose. /Nothing much. She was talking about someone wanting back into the coven, even though he’d been kicked out./
“Probably that weird man from town,” Matilda guessed. “Any ideas who he was? Did she say?”
/No. Mostly she just talked about Mehitabel’s fur./
He couldn’t keep the sullen tone out of his voice. Matilda put down the bread and picked him up in her arms.
“Now, I want you to listen to me, little man,” she said firmly. “I don’t care if you’ve got long fur, short fur, fuzz, or green and yellow scales. You are the finest familiar I’ve ever met, and the best I could have imagined. I don’t want you comparing yourself to those other cats, because there’s nothing wrong with you.”
Charlie leaned into her, pillowing his head against her kitten shelf. /You make me feel like that’s true./
“It is.”
A knock on the front door startled them both, and Charlie leaped down from her arms. Matilda went and peeked out the speakeasy door.
“Yes?”
“Matilda Greenbottom?” It was the powerful, croaking voice of an older female witch, and Charlie could feel the magic in her words. “Open up. Coven Council.”
Matilda looked at Charlie, and for the briefest flash, he could see concern in her eyes. She turned back to the door and opened it up.
“Come in, sisters,” she greeted, stepping aside to allow the three crones to enter the house. The one in the middle, the tallest and thinnest, looked around in disdain. She stopped when she saw Charlie.
“Oh. You chose him.”
“We chose each other,” Matilda corrected mildly.
“I see.” The crone nodded to her sisters, and the three of them stood shoulder to shoulder in a line across the floor, their backsides warmed by fire. “I need to know what your connection is with Xander Melrose.”
Matilda closed the door and leaned against it. Charlie scampered to her side and jumped up into her arms. “I don’t know that name,” his witch admitted.
“You were seen talking to him.”
She raised her chin. “I talk to a lot of people. And as it happens, Susannah spoke to him, too.”
“She warned him away. You… conversed.”
Matilda crossed her arms. “I had no idea who he was, and to be honest, I still don’t know. And last I checked, conversation in a public street is not a crime. Now, unless you came about something else, you’re welcome to leave my house.”
The smallest of the witches sighed. “Xander Melrose is one of the only males to be admitted to the Academy in generations. He has amazing power, but it comes with an equally amazing ego and arrogance. He cheated continually to ensure that he was always number one in all his classes. When he was discovered by Agatha, the administrator, he was expelled.”
The tallest took up the tale. “He’s never forgiven the school or our covens for casting him out.”
“Every graduating class forms its own coven,” the middle witch said.
“I’m aware.”
“And every graduate is to be a member.”
Charlie snorted. /Someone needs to tell Susannah that./
“Susannah knows,” the tallest witch stated flatly. Her hat tipped up, and a toad looked down at Charlie, glaring.
“You have failed to join the coven,” the middle witch told Matilda disapprovingly.
“I tried. They wouldn’t let me in.”
The witches gaped. Finally, the smallest stammered, “B-but Susannah said you never came…”
/We showed up five minutes late and she told us that the coven was full./ Charlie’s tail flicked with annoyance. /She said that there were already thirteen members. But without counting my witch, there were only twelve other graduates of this class./
A black rabbit stuck its head out of the smallest witch’s pocket. /Hush, familiar,/ it scolded. /This is witch business./
/And familiars support their witches in all things,/ Charlie protested. /They lied to keep her out, and now you’re scolding her for something that she didn’t do by choice, and something that isn’t her fault./
The middle witch nodded. “We will talk with Susannah. But about Xander Melrose - be wary of him. He has darkness in his heart.”
“I doubt I’ll see him again,” Matilda told them. “He’s not interested in me, and since I’m not allowed to be in the coven…”
“You must be in the coven.” The tallest witch straightened her hat, concealing her toad familiar once again. “The coven is meeting for the Devil’s Night ceremony, and you should attend. If we must, we will accompany you to ensure that you gain your proper place.”
“Will you be at the Samhain ball?” The smallest witch tried to smile at Matilda. It made her look like she had a sick stomach.
“I doubt it,” Matilda answered. “I’m not much for parties.”
“Too bad.” The tallest witch was clearly lying, but she added, “All of the witches in Button Hollow will be there. It’s tradition.”
/Maybe we’ll be there,/ Charlie said.
“Good.”
The three witches swept out of the house, and when they were gone, Matilda sat back down with her knitting. Charlie jumped back into her lap and curled up, his tail wrapped tightly around himself.
“That was weird,” Matilda said.
/Are you going to the coven meeting on Devil’s Night?/
“I suppose I have to.”
He sighed. /They’re just going to be mean to you again./
“I suppose they will.”
They fell silent, and Matilda kept knitting.
Chapter Five
Agatha Winterhex was the administrator of the Button Hollow Witchcraft Academy and had been for the last three hundred and sixty-seven years. Susannah was her youngest and last daughter, the requisite seventh daughter of a seventh daughter that she was obligated to produce. In the years to come, Susannah would be required to bear seven daughters, but that was the furthest thing from their minds as they prepared for the Samhain Ball.
The Witchcraft Academy was festooned with black and orange streamers, specially fireproofed for when the fairy lights were cast and living flames were summoned to illuminate the dance floor. Flying familiars were delivering garlands to the top of the massive chandelier in the ballroom while Agatha observed. Her snake was coiled around her arm, snoozing.
Susannah stood beside her mother, her arms crossed. She was pouting. “I waited until start time, and that hag didn’t show,” she argued, defending herself. “She was five minutes late, so I filled her spot with a walk-in.”
“A walk-in?” Agatha clicked her tongue. “That coven is exclusively for graduates of the Academy.”
“She was late,” Susannah insisted, “and Tiffany has always wanted to be a witch.”
“Tiffany Welles?” Agatha asked, looking at her daughter in dismay. “You let that bitch into the coven? She’s nothing more than a brewer.”
“She brews curative potions,” Susannah defended. “It’s a form of witchcraf
t.”
“It’s hedgecraft, you mean.” The administrator turned her attention to the students carrying in the chairs that would line the walls. “Expel her and replace her with Greenbottom.”
“I’m the high priestess of the coven, and I say who’s in and who’s out. Those are your own rules.” She set her jaw and pulled her crossed arms in even more tightly. “So there.”
Agatha sighed. “You always have been problematic.”
“Why don’t you just add her to the Lilac Coven? They only have twelve, since you-know-who got expelled.”
“The Lilac Coven is not seeking new members,” Agatha answered archly. “They get along quite well with twelve.”
“It’s not a witchy number.”
“It suffices.”
Every familiar in the room turned as one to face the doorway. Oksana, the witch who ran the Familiar Emporium, came into the room. Normally she was followed by familiars who hadn’t been claimed by other witches, but today she walked alone. It was a strange sight.
“Oksana,” Agatha greeted. “What brings you here?”
“Need permission to get more familiars,” she said. “But first, there’s big problem.”
“What big problem?”
Oksana handed her a sales receipt. “From Button Landing pet store. Xander Melrose goes shopping there.”
“I suppose that’s one place to buy bat food,” Agatha mused. “What do bats even eat, I wonder?”
“Bugs. But he not buy bugs.” She pointed to the receipt. “He buy aquarium.”
Susannah rolled her eyes. “So?”
“So,” Oksana said, glaring at the younger witch, “he planning something. And it big aquarium.”
“Maybe he’s purchasing fish, or a snake like Abattoir.” Her familiar lifted his scaly head lazily when he heard his name. He determined that he wasn’t being called and went back to sleep.
“Maybe,” Oksana said, although it was clear from her tone that she really didn’t agree. “Maybe he planning something else.”
Agatha thrust the receipt back at Oksana. “I am not going to concern myself with purchases of mundane supplies made by a non-witch at a mundane store.”
“Oh, he witch. He just bad one.”
A young student witch hurried into the room, her blue robes flapping like giant wings as she ran. “Madam Winterhex! Madam Winterhex!”
Agatha turned to the newcomer. “Yes? What is it, Ariadne?”
The girl held out a scroll. “This was delivered by magical courier.”
The scrolled was sealed with black wax, and a ribbon hanging from it carried a tag that said, Urgent. Agatha took the scroll and broke the seal.
Almost immediately, a flickering blue image of Xander Melrose appeared before her. He bowed sarcastically.
“Administrator Winterhex,” he greeted. “I’m sure you’re very surprised to see me again. I’ve been waiting for this moment for four years, ever since you cast me out of your school and replaced me with a hedge witch from Button Landing.”
Susannah groaned, and Agatha muttered, “Oh, bother.”
The recording of Melrose continued. “I should have been in the graduating class that just gained its hats and brooms, and you know it. I should have been the high priest of the new coven. You have until Devil’s Night to correct these oversights. Name me a proper graduate of the Academy and place me in charge of the new graduates’ coven, or there will be hell to pay.”
The flickering image vanished, leaving behind a whiff of sulfur. Oksana coughed and waved her arms, trying to shoo the stinking fumes away.
Susannah looked at her mother. “You can’t consider this.”
“I’m not. Even if he were in the right to make demands like that, I do not respond well to ultimatums. Xander Melrose will never be a member of your coven, and he will never be an accredited graduate of this academy.” She turned a hard look onto her daughter. “You will remove Tiffany Welles and add Matilda Greenbottom to your coven, where she should be, by the end of Devil’s Night. If not, then Xander Melrose’s wrath will have nothing on mine.”
Her daughter pouted again. “I don’t want to.”
“I don’t care.”
Oksana chimed in. “Better do it. Not good to make strong witch angry.”
The youngest witch looked as if she wanted to argue, but she wisely held her silence. Calling Mehitabel to her, she left the ballroom.
The trio of witches from the Coven Council were waiting for Susannah when she returned to her condo. She stopped and stared at them disdainfully, taking in their hooked noses and stringy hair. She would never in a million years allow herself to look so unkempt. She had standards to uphold. Didn’t these old hags know that witches were supposed to be beautiful, with gorgeous hair and hourglass figures, and that they were supposed to wear impractical dresses with long skirts and high slits, or better yet, some sort of elaborately useless leather armor? She shook her head and sighed.
“Hello, sisters,” she greeted. “What brings you here?”
“We were told that you prevented Matilda Greenbottom from taking her rightful place in your coven.” The tallest witch’s hat bounced up once, allowing the toad familiar that sat on her head to get a good look at Susannah.
“There were no places left. Our number was already thirteen.”
The three looked at one another. The middle of them said, “Most irregular.”
“Who took the thirteenth spot?”
“A stand-by hereditary witch from Button Landing.”
“Like Greenbottom?” the smallest asked.
Susannah brushed past them and unlocked her door. Mehitabel glowered at the trio as she walked into the condo ahead of them all. “Not at all like Greenbottom. I don’t think she has a drop of the blood.”
“She’s a full witch.”
“If you say so.”
The trio followed Susannah into the living room and stood in a line while the young witch hung up her hat and put her broom into its holder by the door. Susannah ran her hands through her beautiful hair, finger combing the silky locks to that they fell into natural ringlets all the way to her waist - natural by way of magic, of course.
“You must remove this hereditary witch until she has graduated from the Academy,” the middle member of the Coven Council insisted. “Only graduates of the Academy can be members of covens in Button Hollow.”
Susannah laughed. “I will decide who’s in my coven and who isn’t!”
“So you say.” The tallest of them drew herself up. “There are rules that must be followed.”
“I followed the rules. I just interpreted them, too.”
“Incorrectly.”
“Whatever.”
The smallest member of the Council said, “You are aware that Xander Melrose has returned.”
“I saw him.”
“Then you know that an off-balance coven is a weak coven, and if he attacks…”
Susannah glared at her guests, her fists on her curvaceous hips. “Don’t threaten me. We are strong enough to withstand anything that counterfeit warlock tries to do.” She sniffed. “He never finished his first year at the Academy and we’re all full graduates…”
“Except for this hereditary witch.”
“... And we are far more able than him.” She picked up Mehitabel. “Now kindly step out of here. I’ve heard your warning, and I appreciate the concern, but my coven is in no need of your advice.”
The smallest witch shook her head. “Watch yourself, little girl. As that other saying goes, pride comes before a fall.”
Mehitabel hissed, and Susannah spoke in a cold voice. “Get. Out.”
Chapter Six
She didn’t know why she was bothering, but Matilda put special effort into her appearance again. She tamed her red curls and cinched her waist, smoothed her black skirt and put her hat on her head. Beside her, wearing his new purple sweater, Charlie looked on in approval.
/You look wonderful,/ he encouraged. /They’ll surely let y
ou join the coven this time./
“It takes more than looks,” she sighed. She looked down at him with a smile. “Although you look very dapper tonight.”
He stood and arched his back in happiness. /And so warm! I had gotten so used to feeling chilled that I forgot what it was like to be comfortable./
Matilda picked him up and snuggled him, and he purred loudly. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll make many more for you. You have fur, but it’s just so short… and I got a letter from Oksana today saying that there are special baths you need to have. You didn’t tell me that.”
Charlie looked sheepish. /I don’t like baths./
“I’ll figure out a way to do it so it’s not unpleasant.” She turned and looked into the mirror, which shifted its position so she could see her reflection more clearly. “I think we look smashing.”
/I agree./
“Well… here goes nothing.”
She put Charlie into his basket and covered him with a blanket, just in case. He crawled out from under it and kneaded it into a nest, then settled down with a purr. The mirror followed them to the door as they left, and Matilda told it, “We’ll be home in a little while, Specs.”
The mirror hummed its understanding and settled down to lean against the wall beside the door.
Matilda and Charlie headed to the park where the coven was supposed to be meeting up for Devil’s Night. There were spells to be worked and pranks to be played, and she hoped that she would not only be allowed into the coven, but that she would also be given a fun assignment.
The park was strangely absent when she arrived, and Matilda frowned, hugging Charlie’s basket tight. Her little familiar straightened and craned his neck, his bright eyes wide.
/Something’s wrong,/ he told her.
“I can tell. I feel…”
/...magic./
She walked forward cautiously. The sparkle of recent magic flickered all around the park, but it seemed to be centered on the empty tetherball pole. A glass container sat at its base, and when she came closer, she saw a letter lying on the wire screen top.
