The Promise Witch

by Celine Kiernan

  “My name is Naomi.”

  Magda’s eyes narrowed warily. “That is not a queen-given name.”

  “It is the only name I need,” said Naomi, raising her chin.

  Magda’s expression went flat. “The queen didn’t send you, did she?”

  “No, madam, I am not here to aid you or your queen. I am here to aid my friends.”

  Magda laughed her horrible laugh. “Some aid you’ll be, a witch too stupid to even earn a name. I remember well how useless you are – how you botch even the simplest of tasks.”

  Mup took Naomi’s hand. Naomi looked down in surprise. She squeezed Mup’s fingers in gratitude. “Even the simplest of the queen’s tasks are too cruel to fulfil,” she said.

  “I knew it,” snarled Magda. “I’ve told the queen time and time again that you were failing on purpose. I should have drowned you after your first year with us – you and your flowers, you and your bumblebees. But, no, the queen insists there is something useful in you. Chance after chance she’s given you, and you’ve wasted them all.”

  Naomi clenched down tight on Mup’s hand. For the first time in Mup’s hearing, the young witch raised her voice in anger. “I should have run away from the queen the first chance I got! I should have used the power I was born with to—” She cut herself off with a gasp.

  “To what?” Lightning grew in Magda’s fists. “To what? Kill her? I’d like to have seen you try. I’ll kill you now for even thinking it.”

  “MADAM, YOU WILL NOT!” Emberly stepped between them, his hands ablaze.

  Mup leapt to join him, her hands raised and hissing sparks.

  Crow threw back his head, opened his mouth, and sang a note so powerful it pushed Magda’s hair back from her face. This seemed to frighten Magda, but even more than fear, she seemed confused.

  “What are you doing?” she asked Mup. “That creature is not one of you. Why would you…?”

  “Leave Naomi alone, Magda.”

  “But what use is she to you? She will not even summon a flame to ignite a candle! With all the potential she was born with she chooses to hide behind you like a meaningless—”

  “LEAVE HER ALONE!” roared Mup. “Don’t you understand? Naomi doesn’t have to be useful – especially not the kind of useful you want her to be! We love her because she’s kind. We love her because she’s brave. We love her because she’s trying to save this world from the mess you made of it. She’s better than you in every way!”

  “Stop,” whispered Naomi, covering her face. “Oh, stop. I don’t deserve it…”

  Magda allowed her arms to fall to her side. She looked from one to the other of the small group of defiant friends. “You are my prisoners,” she said. “You…”

  “No, madam,” interrupted Emberly coldly. “No, we are not.”

  Something seemed to break in Magda at that, the last of her certainty drained away.

  Mup almost, almost, felt sorry for her. You have nothing, she thought. Nothing but violence and fear. Even Crow in his iron cage is freer than you.

  Magda stumbled for the porch. The creature, who had been peering in at the door, carefully drew aside as she passed him by. Magda leapt to the ground in a puff of dust, ran a little way up the narrow path and shrieked to the surrounding cliffs. “Majesty! Majesty, HEAR ME!”

  Mup followed her outside. The air was breathlessly still and hot. Its silence seemed to eat Magda’s shout. The witch stood pleading up at the dour mountain-face. “Please, Majesty. Please. Allow me home.”

  Warily, without taking her eyes from Magda, Mup climbed from the porch, crouched and pressed her hand to the gritty rocks. Show me, she thought.

  A path crackled out from beneath her palm, sure and clean.

  Down, down, down the hard face of the mountain, it went.

  Out onto the flat grasslands.

  Away, away, across miles of land so hot, and so dusty that Mup grew dizzy with thirst. The distance was alarming. Just how far are we from home? she thought.

  Then… Oh, blessed coolness. Oh, sweet, soothing green.

  Water. Life. The richness of earth softened by rain.

  The relief was almost stunning.

  Hope swelled large in Mup’s heart as she realized where the path had taken her. It was the castle! The fields surrounding it were velvety with new grass. The forest was alive with unfurling buds. Glistening water cooled the thirsty rocks of the riverbed.

  Inside, the castle was alive with many different kinds of people, all of them singing and dancing; all of them working together with innumerable magics to heal the damage Mup’s grandmother had done. “They’re fixing it,” whispered Mup. “They’re winning.” The green was spreading out from the castle. Soon it would hop from village to village, from town to town as even more people joined their magics to the brew.

  As quickly as it had been broken, the world was being healed.

  Combined magic at its very strongest.

  Mup glanced at Magda, still standing with her back to everyone. You’ve lost, she thought. You and your queen. She shook tears of happiness from her face, squeezed her eyes shut, and forced her will out through the network of paths of which she was the centre. She was searching for the cloud of raven guards who were out there somewhere, searching for the fierce woman she knew was leading them. MAM! she thought. MAM! I’M HERE. CAN YOU HEAR ME?

  There was a jolt, a minute shock in the network, that told Mup she’d made contact. Mup pushed her will out more strongly, urgently projecting her thoughts, terrified that the connection might break before she got her message through. MAM! WE’RE HERE WITH MAGDA. ME, CROW, DOCTOR EMBERLY, NAOMI. I’M NOT SURE EXACTLY WHERE WE ARE, BUT THE QUEEN IS CLOSE BY. SHE—

  Suddenly all communication with the outside world stopped. Mup felt the pathways shudder beneath her palm. Then the whole powerful web sucked back into her hand with explosive force. For a moment Mup felt like her arm would explode. She screamed in fear and pain.

  Then – bam! – the pressure released itself into one single pathway. The path shot away from Mup – a bleak, lonely road burrowing its way up the side of the mountain as if commanded by an unstoppable will.

  A familiar, cruel voice spoke in her head. Granddaughter. Come to me.

  Mup staggered to her feet, her arm numb from shoulder to fingertip. Emberly and Naomi had run onto the porch, drawn by her scream. The creature squeezed his way out behind them, carrying Crow. Magda turned to look.

  Mup stared upwards at a darkness only she could see, roiling and seething at the top of the road.

  “Grandma,” she whispered. “Grandma is calling me.”

  Love

  “What do you mean, the queen is calling you?” asked Magda, trudging behind as the group of friends made their way up the rocky incline.

  Mup, a little way ahead of everyone and fixated on the darkness above, didn’t reply.

  Magda roared. “Answer me, you brat!”

  Mup glanced back at her. No one else did. Emberly and Naomi continued to tramp forward, their eyes scanning the mountain for some hint of what it was Mup could see. Crow’s creature clumped along behind them, carrying Crow’s cage like a lantern held high.

  Magda glared past them all to Mup. “Answer me,” she demanded. “What do you mean, the queen is calling you?”

  “She’s told me where to find her,” Mup said. “She’s bringing me up there.”

  She pointed to the dark cloud that seethed at the top of the road.

  Magda once again scanned the mountainside. It was obvious the witch wanted to see what Mup saw. It was equally obvious that she could not. “Why hasn’t she shown me? Why can’t I see her?”

  In his cage Crow chuckled. “Maybe you’re just no use to her any more, Mam.”

  This seemed to hit Magda like a blow. She stopped walking and just watched as the others trudged away. Mup kept glancing back at her for a while, but then she turned all her attention to the darkness that lay ahead.

  The cloud filled a narrow gorge, da
rk tendrils of it twisting and grasping the air. Mup put her arm out to stop her unsuspecting friends from walking straight into it. They were right on the edge of the queen’s domain.

  “Oh, I feel it,” muttered Emberly. “She’s very close, isn’t she?”

  Mup stepped forward. She tentatively touched the cloud. It fizzed and buzzed against her fingers – an entirely unpleasant feeling. Mup pushed her arm into it.

  Naomi gasped. “Your arm! It has disappeared!”

  Mup looked back at her. “No matter what happens in here,” she said, “I want you to just look and listen. I think I know what Grandma wants. You’re not to get annoyed when I promise to give it to her. All right?” The ghosts hesitated, then nodded. Mup met Crow’s eyes. “All right?” she asked again.

  Crow nodded grimly.

  “I trust you, girl who is my friend,

  You’ll make things work out in the end.”

  Mup reached out her free hand. Naomi took it. Emberly took Naomi’s other hand. The confused creature, after a little prompting, took Emberly’s. Mup pushed onwards, leading her chain of friends into the cloud.

  The air was thick and hissing as she forced her way ahead. It went against Mup’s breath. Looking back, she could see the strain on Emberly and Naomi’s faces as they followed her. Last to enter, the creature ducked his head like a frightened dog, and began to push through. He held Crow’s cage against his chest. Crow’s eyes were bright above the protective circle of the creature’s dark arm.

  Behind them all, Mup could see the slope leading away to the vardo, and Magda standing a little way down it, her eyes wide with astonishment. Everything was dim and fuzzy, like looking through an electric fog.

  What do we look like from out there? wondered Mup. She recalled Naomi shouting, “Your arm! It has disappeared.” Perhaps, from where Magda stood, they were all vanishing one after another. A chain of friends being eaten by thin air.

  Magda stood there, gaping at them. Just as it seemed she would stand there all day, she snapped out of her astonishment. She shot forward. She made to grab the creature, who was still pushing himself into the magic barrier. But before she could touch him, he was engulfed.

  Magda swiped at empty air, her eyes frantically searching.

  She can’t see us, thought Mup.

  Magda stretched her mouth in a roar.

  Mup saw the witch claw, then batter at the barrier, trying to force her way in. But she might as well have been hammering iron. She could not get past.

  Then the air was clear again, and Mup had to turn her attention ahead, because she had broken through to her grandmother’s domain.

  Mup and her friends stepped from the magic barrier. Quietness hit them like a slap. The scuff of their feet on the dusty path seemed intolerably loud. The snap of cloth was the only other sound: the dark cloaks of one hundred raggedy witches fluttering with a life of their own.

  Her grandmother had magicked herself a throne of marble. It stood at the top of the short slope, cold and angular, just like the elderly woman who sat upon it. Her witches stood around her, their pale faces and dark eyes expressionless. They looked so sure of themselves. And why wouldn’t they? One hundred witches, trained in the strongest magics, against two gentle ghosts, a none-too-bright creature, a bird in a cage, and a small girl in her pyjamas.

  Appearances can be deceiving, though, thought Mup.

  One note from Crow’s mouth, and these smug, upright creatures would topple like bowling pins. One note from him and her grandmother would disperse like ash. It was over for them now. Mup was certain of this. She thought maybe Grandma was certain of it too.

  Why else would she have offered to work with Mam, except to save her own skin?

  The queen’s pale blue eyes bore into Mup’s as the little group of friends approached through the ranks of watchful witches. What do they do here all day? wondered Mup. Just stand around?

  There was no furniture but the queen’s cold white throne, no shelter but the grey stone walls rising on all sides.

  The friends came to stand before the queen, who sat like a pale, amused spider, looking down at them from her elevated height.

  Mup glanced nervously back at the narrow entrance that was the only way out of this gully. There was nothing to be seen there, except the swarming cloud of the queen’s barrier. What was Magda up to, behind its dull facade?

  As if sensing her thoughts, the queen gestured with her hand. Suddenly the cloud became transparent. Mup could once more see the steep path leading down to the vardo. She could see Magda, pacing to and fro. Magda slammed to a halt. It would seem she could see them now too. She ran forward and pressed her hands to the shimmering barrier, her eyes fixed hopefully on the queen.

  The queen chuckled. “My wayward daughter.”

  “She still thinks you’ll let her come back,” said Mup.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “She gave her whole life to you. She betrayed her friends and murdered her husband and abandoned her son for you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  The queen huffed. “People are only of use as long as they remain loyal. She walked away from me in the heat of battle. She’s nothing to me now.”

  Obviously capable of hearing these words, Magda shook her head in genuine distress. She battered the barrier like a child begging to come home. She was a terrible person, just terrible. But Mup couldn’t help feeling sorry for her.

  “Was it you who cursed her, Grandma?”

  “Cursed her? Oh, you mean the ash thing. No. The stupid woman did that to herself.”

  Magda’s face fell. She stepped back. She stared at her hands in horror.

  The queen chuckled again. “You always were a sentimental fool, Magda. Could never truly let go of anything.” She leaned to whisper to Mup. “She got everything she ever wanted. Then allowed her own remorse to steal it from her.”

  “Are you telling me all those things turned to ash because … because Magda knew she didn’t deserve them?”

  “Damned fool.”

  Mup gazed down at the devastated witch. She thought of Magda’s lovely house bursting into ash, all her pretty flowers, her affectionate cat. She thought of all the innocent trees and bushes and animals since then that had dispersed at Magda’s touch. She’s the one who did wrong, thought Mup. She’s the one who should be punished. But it’s innocent creatures who paid the price for her guilt. How like Magda.

  “A guilty heart punishes itself,” mused the queen.

  “No fear of that ever happening you,” cawed Crow. “There’s not a sorry bone in your body.”

  The queen turned her gaze to him. She rose creakily to her feet.

  Magda bleakly lifted her eyes from her cursed hands, and watched the queen peer at Crow. The half-formed creature that had been Crow’s dad frowned and grumbled. He huddled Crow’s cage closer to his chest. Crow just glared through the bars, the silk bandages bright against his feathers.

  “You’re a little the worse for wear, aren’t you, dear?” said the queen. “Did your mother do that to you?” She tutted. “Imagine damaging such a useful instrument. How did I ever tolerate her incompetence?” She ran her wizened fingers across the bars of Crow’s cage. Crow snarled. The queen smiled. “I could make you invincible,” she murmured. “A fierce little thing like you. You could rule half the world.” Without waiting for Crow’s answer, she pressed a finger to the cage. It disappeared in a gasp of mist, and Crow, a skinny boy with tangled hair and a bandaged arm, tumbled to the ground.

  Emberly and Naomi leapt to catch him.

  The queen tilted her head, as if seeing Naomi for the first time. “I know you,” she said.

  Her witches drew closer, peering curiously over the queen’s shoulder. Naomi took a step back, obviously terrified. “Ah, yes,” the witches hissed. “She is nameless. A tolerated one… A Useless.”

  The queen narrowed her eyes. She crooked her finger and Naomi shot across the space between them, brought closer against her own will.<
br />
  Naomi shivered as the queen peered keenly into her face.

  “By grace,” breathed the queen. “You still have not used your powers.” She shook her head. “Are you ever going to live up to your potential and make yourself useful?”

  Naomi’s fear seemed finally to leave her. She jutted her chin and looked the queen in the eye.

  The queen sneered. “Such misplaced steel. No wonder you died.”

  She flicked her hand dismissively. Naomi spun backwards as if slapped. Emberly caught her and steadied her, and glared across her shoulder at the queen.

  “And who are you?” asked the queen coolly.

  Emberly’s eyes flared. “I was briefly the castle doctor, madam. You did not approve of me. And so you had me tortured and killed.”

  The queen lifted an eyebrow. “Well, don’t flatter yourself that I recall it. It was many a decade ago, judging by the outdated frivolity of your clothes.”

  “I do not flatter myself, madam. I am only one of many thousands murdered at your command.”

  The queen grinned like a cat. “Yes, well, that’s the way of it, isn’t it? Decades later, I remain the most important moment of your existence. While to me, you are not even a memory. Just a momentary annoyance, which I swept aside and forgot.”

  She snapped her attention to Mup. “I hope you’re paying attention to all this.”

  “Oh, I am,” said Mup quietly.

  “Good. Learn the lessons of these fools. See what has become of them from wasting their time, talents or allegiances.” She sat again on her cold throne. She fixed her icy stare on her granddaughter. “They came and went. Whereas I remain. Do not repeat their mistakes.”

  “Believe me,” said Mup. “I won’t.”

  “Do not allow your mother to repeat their mistakes.”

  Mup blinked.

  The queen watched her carefully. “Your mother needs help,” she said. “She’s very strong and admirably fierce. But she cannot handle these continuing crises without me.”

  How dare you offer your help? thought Mup. You murdered people. You tortured people. You stole their magic. She didn’t say any of this. Instead, Mup said, “You kidnapped my dad. You put me in jail. You tried to kill Mam when she rescued us. Why would I trust you?”