Generation Witch Year One

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Generation Witch Year One Page 43

by Schuyler Thorpe


  Tillie looked at her former teacher and instructor for a second. Then she asked a most direct question of the day:

  “Do you want me to run?”

  There was dead silence from everyone who had been listening in on the conversation—even after Charlie showed up to give Rachel her cup of tea.

  Nobody said anything at first, but Tillie could tell that her question made Charlie unhappy and Roz uncomfortable.

  But seeing the other girl’s reaction made the girl realize that she was in danger of breaking their bonds of friendship for the sake of self-preservation.

  Rachel D’Amboise didn’t say anything—acting as if she didn’t even here the question at first. But her expression was telling Tillie that she had finally managed to catch her off guard for once in her young life.

  And that was not an easy thing to do—given her reputation as a sterling tactician.

  Tillie waited another few seconds and then decided she had enough.

  “Well? Would it be in the best interest of everyone if I ran instead? Before the Third Watch launched their slug launchers at this part of the city? By my calculations, I would have a 60% chance of making it out alive before whatever operation Captain Kara Plummer has up her sleeve is set to go off. But my odds of survival would drop dramatically if I were to remain here under the guise and protection of the Underground and the Resistance.”

  “And you would leave everyone here to die as a result of your selfish decision?” Rachel questioned directly.

  Tillie paused for a second and then said: “You said it yourself: Humanity is not to be trusted. Even by those I have formed a friendship with over the past few days since the invasion. So what would be the benefit of me staying—if I am only going to die in the end?”

  “Die fighting.” Roz blurted out suddenly—surprising everyone present.

  “What?” Charlie countered with brief confusion.

  His best friend nodded. “That’s what I would do—if I were in Tillamook’s position. As the last known witch in the city.”

  Tillie laughed then. “So that’s the consensus here? I should go out with a literal bang?”

  “If you want to fight to protect the lives of others during the attack, it may end up making all the difference in the world.” Roz told her emphatically. “While it’s true that the Resistance hasn’t had to fight a large scale war since the days of the Great War and have only fought skirmishes with the armies of the Third Watch in the past, they haven’t really fought anything on the scale that now threatens to engulf this part of the city. Not all at once mind you.”

  Tillie fell silent at that point of the discussion—plans and ideas bouncing around inside her head. Then sudden realization struck.

  “Then all it would be needed to give them an opportunity to hit back is…for someone to light the match.”

  Charlie nodded somberly. “That would sound about right.” But he didn’t look at her while he said it either. The older boy was clearly conflicted by the thought of sending his new girlfriend to her demise on a whim—even with the best of intentions.

  The other girl nodded, knowing what was being asked of her. “So in a sense, this would be an act of betrayal. But for the greater good. The preservation of life.” She murmured. Looking up, she told the group at large: “Then I’m okay with that. If it’s the Blessed Mother’s decree that I sacrifice myself for the city’s sake—my home—then I will gladly do it.”

  Rachel was immediately troubled by her decision. “It would mean certain death, Tillamook. Even with the power of the Dragon’s Tear behind you every step of the way.”

  Tillie nodded. “I know. That’s why I have to do it.” She said in all finality.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  The Troublemaker

  Roz elected to play host while Charlie voiced his intent to take a nap in the early afternoon—sleeping off the two cups of tea that he had drank along with the couple extra helpings of the rice pilaf his best friend made for everyone to have a share in.

  Tillie sat on the stool that Rachel had graciously vacated herself from to go and check out some of Charlie’s wrought ironwork—sipping on her second cup of lemon zinger and watching her boyfriend crash out across from her.

  The girl wished there was something other way to dealing with this problem, but she didn’t want to have the deaths of more innocents on her head all at the same time either.

  Not when she was in command of the Dragon’s Tear and could do those things that only hinted itself in the pages of her mom’s collected books and tomes that she found in the third bag.

  But oddly enough, there was little information about the five other stones of power that supposedly made up the legendary set and it got the girl to thinking that something wasn’t right about the whole thing from the get go.

  But rather than worry about another potential problem on top of everything else going on in her life, Tillie decided to focus on the here and now and push aside the other issues for later on—when things weren’t so pressing.

  “It was brave of you to do that, witch girl.” Roz injected with absolute calm—intruding upon her immediate thoughts.

  “What to do you mean?” The other girl asked in a low tone of voice—keenly aware that her boyfriend was only fifteen feet from her at this very moment.

  “Stick your neck out for us, of course.” She said—leaning up against the filing rack next to her. “I have never heard of any magical familiar willing to go to bat for anyone since my family and I came here so many years ago—after the Great War ended.”

  That bit of news surprised the teen girl. “No one did?” She murmured with quiet astonishment.

  Roz sighed and shook her head. “The last major group of magical familiars blew through here thirty years ago. Didn’t stay for more than a few days tops—like you. Then they left. No support. No forwarding address. To this day, nobody knows what happened to them.”

  “But why?” Tillie wanted to know.

  The other girl shrugged indifferently. “Hard to say. They weren’t the most talkative sorts to be engaging with the locals any. In fact, from the stories I heard about Travis Jennings and his little group, they mostly kept to themselves. Then they left.”

  “I was told by Felix that some others came here months earlier than my mom and I—Sarah Winters included. But he didn‘t say what happened to them either.”

  “Most of our new…arrivals were just passing through. They didn’t stop for anything. Or anyone. Didn’t even make friends much—which means your case was rather unusual and unique unto itself.”

  “Well…months ago, we didn’t have the armies of the Third Watch breathing down our collective necks either.” Tillie quietly explained to the other girl.

  “I had no choice in the matter.”

  Roz nodded sympathetically. “I don’t think any of us did.”

  “Which brings me back to you.” Rachel said—coming over to the pair.

  “What do you mean, Instructor?”

  “You were the first in a new generation of witches to expand on your abilities and potential—rather than rely strictly on your magical incantations. And yet through our meetings with you at the Academy, you never showed any hint of progress or skill when facing off against the other teams during the Trials. Instead…you played things safe.”

  “I had my reasons. Or rather my mother did. Especially since I had a fragment of the Dragon’s Tear inside of me.”

  “That’s what your other teachers and instructors said as well—a point you kept making during your training sessions. I had initially feared that you were becoming too complacent and lax in your abilities. But I guess I don’t need to tell you what happened during an isolated session with High Master Ben Harrison—do I?”

  Tillie blushed.

  “No.”

  Roz was curious by the ongoing conversation and she even asked as much.

  “Spill the beans, witch girl. I want to know.”

  “It’s…rather private and
somewhat embarrassing.” The other girl deflected rather uneasily.

  Roz gazed at the other woman in turn. “Tell me she didn’t try and kill him,” she fired off suggestively in passing.

  Rachel shook her head. “Oh, it was more than that I’m afraid. And because the rules are still in play, I am forbidden from commenting on the matter further. Let’s just say for the sake of argument…that incident and a few others is what led to Tillamook’s suspension from the Academy for a few months after her fourteenth birthday.” She said to her.

  Roz’s eyes grew big. “Seriously? Little Miss Perfect here got into a whole heap of trouble on her own and I wasn’t there to see it?”

  “I’m not perfect.” Tillie growled somewhat.

  “Oh bull. You are. I can see it in your stance and behavior. Your attitude is almost textbook perfect of someone with supreme confidence, skill, and ability.”

  “That’s because my mom—!” the girl blurted out angrily—not happy with herself. Then she paused, sighed, and began again in a softer tone of voice: “She took me under her wing after the suspension and made me promise never to pull something like that ever again in the presence of a High Master. Then she started training me day and night until the Board of Regents was satisfied that no further episodes would present themselves to me in passing.”

  “And you held your mother to that promise. And to the Board all the way through the current spring semester.” Rachel graciously inferred. “But I have yet to see you in action, Tillamook. I would love to see you playing one for the team. At least…just once.”

  “One on one?” Tillie hazarded a guess—her curiosity getting the better of her.

  Rachel nodded. “In a way? Yes. But I do not know this part of the quad well enough to know a place where we could exercise our respective skills on.”

  Roz raised her hand in passing.

  “I think I might be able to help you there, ma’am.”

  The other woman looked at her questionably.

  “How?”

  “There’s a park clearing nearby that would be perfect for anything. People go there often to blow some steam off, or play, or just gaze at the scenery. It’s usually empty most times. But it would be the perfect arena for the two of you to have a harmless contest of skill and wit.”

  Tillie snorted dismissively. “I don’t think what we do as magical familiars—witches—would be considered harmless. It’s very dangerous and destructive.”

  Rachel chuckled to herself. “I’m not asking you to blow things up, Tillamook. I just want to see you in action. I want to see how much you know, how much you can do—now that you are on your own with no parental units to guide you or keep you safe.”

  “That’s not very helpful,” the girl mulled unhappily.

  Roz raised her hand in suggestion.

  “How about a handicap?” She propositioned.

  Now it was Tillie’s turn to laugh. “There’s no such thing in the witch’s code. Trust me. Curious onlookers or bystanders offered the same thing over periods of time and we always had the same exact answer.” Glancing at Rachel, she said: “I’m sorry. But I can’t do it. Not underground. It would be too unpredictable for everyone involved.”

  “Above ground then. In the streets nearby—where the armies of the Third Watch aren’t around?” Rachel offered then.

  “A spectacle like the ones I bring would only signal to them that I am above ground and on the move. I don’t need to be tipping my hand to Kara Plummer just yet.”

  “So you have a plan to counter the next operation then?” Roz wondered openly.

  Tillie nodded. “Something of a plan. But not the plan. I’m still working on the particulars of the whole operation though. And you guys have been right: I can’t be everywhere all at once.”

  Rachel grew curious then. “Why not? I thought all witches had the innate ability to perform magiks of illusion?”

  “Only sorcerers can do that. My incantations and spells are only for either offensive, defensive, or other.” The girl explained.

  “Is that what your mother said, or is that something you found out on your own terms during your training periods with her?”

  Tillie slumped a bit in defeat. “My mom. She said that only a High Witch can perform tricks of illusion. But only if it is deemed necessary.”

  “So what is it?”

  The other girl hesitated. “I…can’t discuss it openly with either of you. My mom made me promise.”

  “A…secret?” Roz continued to press.

  Tillie lost it then—her patience with the other girl just about played out.

  “Listen elf girl…what part of no do you not understand?” She argued hotly.

  “But I wanna see!” She pleaded. “Especially after you did that magic trick with Charlie’s supply of re-bar.”

  Tillie shook her head adamantly. “I don’t want to. Sorry.” She said with a certain air of finality.

  But Rachel caught on to some hidden understanding with her words.

  “It’s the nightmares—isn’t it?” She echoed with genuine concern. “The real reason why you never sparred or trained with the other students—even when asked.”

  “Nightmares? What nightmares?” Roz asked in confusion.

  Tillie drew her cloak around her body while looking at the floor beneath her. The spider web cracks in the spent red and yellow linoleum.

  “It’s…not something I want to divulge in right now—if you don’t mind.”

  “Tillamook…no one is going to think any less of you if you admit to it. I know I won’t. And I went to bat for you many a times in the past—over the objections of Headmaster Jonathan Harris.”

  “Harris just wanted me to destroy the school and everyone in it,” the other girl grumbled unhappily. “Because he was the one who was pushing me in that general direction—when I flat out refused.”

  “Did you…tell him about your nightmares? The ones you keep having within the void space of the Dragon’s Tear itself?”

  “Yes. But he didn’t believe me. He thought I was just having another one of my wild girlish fantasies of being all kind’s ultimate weapon.”

  Rachel went silent then. Then she asked another question. “Did you have anymore recently in the past few months?”

  Tillie giggled maniacally. “Oh, Blessed Be…yes. I have. I had one two nights ago at the women’s mission. They have never ceased. They have only gotten stronger over time. I feel myself lost and losing control of the situation. I don’t—” she took a deep and unsteady breath. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

  “That might be a problem.” The other woman said, before she fished around into the deep travel pockets of her own instructor’s cloak and pulled out a flat case made of metal and studded leather.

  “But it so happens I might also have a possible solution as well.”

  Tillie coughed a couple of times then—unconvinced by her ex-teacher’s words.

  “Instructor…I don’t think even you have the final solution to what’s been plaguing me since I was ten.” She defended lightly. “Nobody has. Not even my own mother. And she tried the hardest. But her investigations into the matter at hand showed no resolution to being the owner of the Dragon’s Tear. It. Is. Cursed.”

  “Cursed?” Roz echoed. “That’s news to me.”

  Rachel held onto the compact case for a second before nodding.

  “It is cursed. And it is something that few people in this world know about.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story, Roz. Trust me: It would only bring you to tears.” Tillie informed her with inherent sadness in her voice.

  “I know where I can get a fresh box of Kleenex.” The other girl announced abruptly—before getting off her assigned seat and heading out of the room for a moment.

  Rachel looked at Tillie and then shrugged. “A little dense—isn’t she?”

  “She’s…determined. I’ll give her that much.” Tillie responded tiredly—before st
ealing the stool seat which her friend vacated only moments earlier. It was still warm, so that was a blessing for her cold butt.

  “Maybe you should sleep for a bit,” Rachel digressed easily enough. “You look like you’re about to fall over from exhaustion.”

  “It’s been a long day. And according to the digital clock over there, it’s only three forty-five in the afternoon.”

  “You sure? I can wait.” Her ex-teacher graciously deferred. “If only for a few hours. Or five—if needed.”

  Tillie looked at her boyfriend’s bed longingly. “Five hours would be great right about now.”

  Rachel placed the compact on the drawing table’s rail and held out her hand towards her.

  “Then let’s get you to bed then. Would your friend mind if you slept with him?”

  “He…and I are something of an item right now. So I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Tillie said as she got up off the seat with her ex-teacher’s help. Then she led her over to the end of the bed where she spent a minute or so getting her boots off, then stripped out of her socks and took off her cloak so that she could use it as a makeshift blanket of sorts—seeing how Charlie was already out cold and sleeping the day away under his.

  Then she crawled over to the other side of the bed as carefully as she could and then snagged one of the free spare weight pillows and propped it up against the makeshift headboard and crawled under the blanket with him. Then she reached over and pulled her cloak over her upper body and covered her head.

  After a few more seconds of sighing and moaning, Tillie went still and Rachel waited until she finally fell asleep in a heartbeat—far faster than anyone she knew on a personal basis—and sighed to herself.

  A long day indeed. She thought—just as Roz came back with a box of Kleenex from one of the bathroom’s many storage closets.

  “Ready!” She announced out into the open—before Rachel shushed her.

  “What?” The other girl asked in confusion before the other woman pointed to the bed.

 

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