An Average Curse (The Chronicles of Hawthorn, Book 1)

by Rue

  Pounamu waved her hand over the surface and spoke Lania’s name three times. An image appeared. “Is this the girl?”

  “Yes,” both girls replied.

  Pounamu leaned closer to see the delicate cord around Lania’s neck. Suddenly the image of a strange woman appeared. Her hair shone white like Windemere’s, but her eyes were sunken and her skin hung thin and wrinkled.

  “Who is that?” Flynn asked.

  Pounamu looked up with a great sadness in her eyes, “That, my darling, is the woman who wants you dead.”

  Hazel clutched her friend and gasped.

  “She is known by many names, Priestess of Desolation, Destroyer of Light, Dark Whisperer, Betrayer’s Daughter, but you will come to know her as Magdelana Katipo, the High Priestess of the Shadow Coven of Southeil. She plays some part in this trickery.” Pounamu rose up and fetched a clear quartz stone from her sideboard. She placed it in the center of the silver tray and pulled out her wand.

  “Are you going to curse her?” Flynn asked.

  “My darling, whatever you send out into the world comes back to you threefold. You saw the look of Magdelana, did you not? She is a mere ten years older than you, Flynn. The darkness in her heart and the shadow she casts over Southeil is taking its price from her very soul. A curse is not the answer.”

  “Is she doing something to Lania?” Flynn asked.

  “I thought the cloaking mist protected us from dark magick,” Hazel added.

  “As did I, my darlings, as did I. Quiet now, while I consult my guides.”

  Hazel and Flynn had no idea what that meant, so they shut their mouths and watched.

  Pounamu touched her wand to the crystal in the center of the silver tray and chanted a karakia under her breath. A mist encircled the crystal and when it cleared a sea turtle sat upon it.

  Flynn squeezed Hazel’s hand and sucked in a breath.

  The ancient witch nodded, frowned, shook her head sadly, and finally smiled a farewell. She swirled the wand above the tray and the sea turtle vanished. Pounamu slipped backward and Flynn reached for her shoulders.

  “Hazel, help me get her into the chair.”

  The girls lifted the nearly weightless woman into an armchair and Flynn fetched her some water.

  “Thank you, my darlings. That one took a bit out of me.”

  “Who is the turtle?” Hazel asked.

  “That is my old friend Pania, she used to bring me many messages from the sea, but we have not spoken for a hundred years. I am pleased to see she still lives.”

  “What did she tell you?” Flynn prompted.

  “Oh, it hurts me to share this with you, younglings.” Pounamu glanced around the room and continued, “Pania tells me the shadow witch captured a baby dolphin and compelled its mother to deliver a hex bag to a girl child of Moa Bend via the Aniwaniwa River.”

  “That’s the thing under Lania’s tunic!” Hazel blurted.

  “Yes, yes. Magdelana has found a way to slip past the protecting mist.”

  “But she didn’t slip past. It’s only a hex bag, what could that really do?” Flynn asked.

  “Magdelana is an adept in the spellcraft of the Vignan Falconers. Fifteen years ago a hunting party went to Southeil for pterodactyl and they were ambushed. Six of the men returned with three of their birds and the homing stone, but four men and two falcons were captured.”

  “What can she do with falcons, they can’t fly through the mist,” Flynn said.

  “The Vignan falconers possess a secret spell to unite with their bird during a hunt. They can see everything the falcon sees—and hear everything the falcon hears.” Pounamu sighed deeply and took a slow sip of her water.

  Hazel looked at Flynn and shook her head. “So, Magdelana knows about Flynn, and about the Spirit Hapu…” Hazel’s voice faded away—the full impact of this information broke her heart.

  “All we know for certain, my darlings, is that Magdelana has eyes and ears in Moa Bend.” Pounamu leaned on her staff and pulled herself up and out of her chair. “Perhaps we can use this knowledge to our advantage, hmmm?”

  “I can’t believe our Level One promotion ceremony is only a few days away,” Hazel exclaimed. “Do you feel ready?”

  Flynn chuckled and shook her head, “Of course I don’t feel ready, Hazel. I’m not ready.”

  “But you’ve learned tons and tons of plants, and you talked to that tree branch, and I’m sure you can muddle your way through the Grounding test.” Hazel stopped and placed her hand on Flynn’s shoulder, “You have to at least pretend, if you want to fool the Dark and Creepy One.”

  “Who? Are you talking about—?”

  Hazel’s hand shot out and banged into Flynn’s lips. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you. But I didn’t want anyone to hear you say it. We don’t know who we can trust, or how many,” she made a motion with her hands to pantomime a dangling hex bag, “she sent over here.”

  Rubbing away the sting of Hazel’s quick reflexes, Flynn nodded. “What about Po? Can we trust him?”

  “Let’s check him for, you know, just to be sure—but I trust him,” Hazel said.

  “You can check him,” Flynn giggled. “I’ll keep my hands to myself, thank you very much.”

  They clutched each other and giggled until happy tears rolled out of their eyes.

  “What’s so funny?”

  The voice froze the laughter in their throats.

  “Oh, hi, Lania,” Hazel mumbled.

  Flynn stared and blinked. The idea that she looked into the twisted soul of Magdelana, Daughter of the Betrayer, made her heart stutter in her chest. She took a deep breath and forced her mind to go over the details of Pounamu’s plan to use Magdelana’s hex bag against her.

  Hazel elbowed Flynn and cleared her throat loudly.

  “Hazel and I were wondering if you wanted to practice for the promotion tests with us?” Flynn could say the words but she couldn’t add the enthusiasm that would’ve made the invitation sound genuine.

  Sincerity mattered little to Lania’s mistress. “Of course. That would be great. When do you want to meet? Where should we study? Should I bring anything?”

  “We’ll meet you back here at midday. We have to take care of some things first. All right?” The line sounded as rehearsed as it was, but Flynn smiled at the end, so that helped.

  “Great. I’ll pack some food for all of us. My mother makes bread,” Lania announced.

  “Thanks, see you later,” Hazel called as she and Flynn walked away from the uncomfortable encounter.

  “Do you think she’ll follow us?” Flynn asked.

  “I don’t think she can resist,” Hazel replied. “What about the food? We can’t actually eat anything she brings to us. I mean, it could be poisoned, right?”

  “Good point. We better eat before we meet up with her, so we have an excuse to refuse her death bread.”

  Hazel bent over in a fit of muffled giggles.

  “What’s funny? What did I say?”

  “Death bread—like death bed—it shouldn’t be funny—it’s not—” Another spasm of laughter took Hazel.

  “I’m so happy my imminent death amuses you.” Flynn forced a hard tone into her voice, but as soon as the words were out she joined her friend in giddy chuckles. At least the giggles distracted her from the seriousness of her situation—for a moment.

  “Come on, we have to look more suspicious and sneaky,” Hazel said.

  The girls ducked between two cottages and Hazel whistled for Mr. Mango. They walked to a wooden platform, scaled the short ladder to the boards, and climbed onto his back.

  In a loud whisper, Flynn said, “We have to get to Mistress Windemere’s as quickly as possible.”

  The lurking Lania overheard their not-so-secret plans.

  They raced through the village, north toward Mata Crossing. Heavy winter blankets hung outside most of the homes. The nights were finally getting warmer and the time had come to air out the thick bedding and switch to lighter coverlets
for spring.

  Shoots of green carpeted the meadow and cushioned the thudding of Mr. Mango’s enormous three-taloned feet. The thick grass also muffled the sound of their pursuer, but not entirely.

  “She took the bait,” Flynn whispered into Hazel’s hair.

  Hazel pointed to her ear and shook her head, but nodded her golden curls in general agreement.

  They came to a halt below Mistress Windemere’s tree house. After a quick dismount they both stared up into the massive crooked branches of the old oak, decked out in bright green leaves and budding acorns.

  “I think I could live in a tree. What about you?” Hazel asked.

  “Come on, we only have a minute or two head start.” Flynn grabbed Hazel’s hand and pulled her up the wending staircase.

  “Mistress Windemere? Mistress Windemere, are you at home?” Flynn shouted.

  Windemere walked so lightly it looked like she floated into the room. She had her hair caught up in a delicate chain that draped across her brow and dangled a clear blue stone on her pale forehead. She smiled at the girls. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “We wanted to practice our psy—our energy reading before the tests. And the only thing I’ve really had any success with is your branch.” Flynn wasn’t sure what else to say, so she looked at Hazel for support.

  Before Hazel could say a word, Windemere walked over to a large cabinet and opened the doors. “I always love to see students putting in extra effort, Flynn. Let me see if I can find that branch for you.”

  Flynn and Hazel exchanged shocked looks. They had planned several more options if Mistress Windemere hadn’t fallen for their first story.

  A soft crunching noise could be heard somewhere below the tree house.

  Hazel looked at Flynn and pointed downward.

  Flynn nodded. “I think I’d like to sit by the window, if that’s all right.”

  “Certainly dear, whatever helps you focus.” Windemere reached into the cabinet and pulled out the branch. “Ah, here we are.” She carried it over to the window seat and handed it to Flynn. “Now, remember to clear your mind and allow the information to come to you.”

  She nodded anxiously as she took the branch, “Mmmhmm,” Flynn mumbled.

  “Are you getting anything?” Hazel asked, a bit too loudly.

  Flynn scowled at her friend and shook her head.

  “Sorry, I’ll let you focus.” Hazel took a seat on the thick wool carpet on the floor and waited.

  She prepared to recite the tidbits of information Pounamu had given her when the branch gave her a message all its own. Silent knowing meant only for Flynn.

  The shadow witch hunts you.

  Flynn shuddered. She pulled her mind back to the practiced message. “The secret you seek lies in the Ruins of Manaina.”

  Windemere turned and studied the girl.

  Hazel nodded, hoping Flynn could remember all the details.

  The shadow witch hears your words.

  Flynn gasped. She took a deep breath and continued, “Through The Hagathorn and across Atua Arch.”

  Windemere raised an eyebrow at the mention of The Hagathorn.

  The shadow witch is watching you.

  Two quick gulps of air and she pushed on, “Mistletoe—the Koru Path.”

  “Flynn, are you all right? Is there anything else?” Hazel twisted her hair around her finger and anxiously waited.

  Windemere narrowed her gaze and held her breath.

  The shadow witch seeks the wand.

  Her hand clutched at her cloak. Flynn forced herself to place the hand back on the log and finish the act. “The secret you seek lies in the Ruins of Manaina.” She exhaled loudly and drooped her head against the wall of the tree.

  Hazel rushed forward and caught the branch as it rolled out of Flynn’s lap. “Flynn. Flynn! Say something.”

  Mistress Windemere strode forward and placed her hand on Flynn’s cheek. “Flynn, come back to us, the reading is over. You are here in the tree house. You are safe.”

  When Windemere leaned down to touch Flynn, Hazel noticed a finely braided cord around the Mistress’ neck and the weight of something hanging down inside her blouse. She swallowed hard and grabbed Flynn’s hand. “Flynn, wake up. We have to get home, my mother needs help with the mending.” A ridiculous excuse, but the only thing she could think of in the midst of her panic.

  They shouted their thanks over their shoulders as they raced back down to Mr. Mango.

  Hazel took them down by the river and gave Mr. Mango a new sign that Flynn had not seen before.

  “What signal is that?”

  “I’m teaching him to ‘watch’ or stand guard and call out if someone approaches,” Hazel replied.

  “Does it work?” Flynn asked.

  “About half the time, he’s getting better, though.”

  “So what happened? Did you see Lania?”

  “No, worse.” Hazel gulped and stared at Flynn. “Windemere had something under her blouse, hanging from a braided cord, exactly like Lania’s.”

  “You were right!” Flynn looked shocked.

  “That’s two. There could be more. We’re going to have to be way more careful.”

  Flynn leaned close to Hazel and whispered, “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t say what the branch actually told me.”

  “Is it bad?” Hazel’s eyes watered. She plucked three reeds from the riverbank and absently braided them while she took deep calming breaths.

  “Don’t cry. Mostly the same stuff Pounamu already told us, but it’s good to know we can trust the trees.”

  “Well, that tree. I wouldn’t run off into Dreamwood Forest without Zip just yet,” Hazel cautioned.

  “We have to make reparation for lost time, younglings. Mistress Tamsin has been benevolent enough to cancel her session today so we can be allowed a double session of Grounding, to restore the balance for some of the classes that had to be canceled when I ventured far afield.” Master Sorrel shuffled along the perimeter of the mat and tapped his staff rhythmically with each step.

  Flynn and Hazel had to keep covering and uncovering their ears because the owl-hearing spell made them especially sensitive to thumps and bumps.

  He finally stopped at the front of the training room, straightened the sleeves of his tunic, and asked all the initiates to remain seated for their practice.

  The girls hesitantly lowered their hands from their ears and prepared for the exercise.

  “Once you have completed your magickal work you will need to release the energy you have raised,” Sorrel droned.

  Hazel learned to cast the ‘mutu’ spell to end the super-hearing without waving her hands by anyone’s head. So Flynn circled her hands by her own ears and Hazel whispered the spell. The casual observer would think Flynn had performed the magick.

  With their normal hearing restored the girls practiced releasing excess energy back into the earth.

  They sat with their knees touching so Hazel could send energy through Flynn and into the ground. They were becoming masters of illusion. Pounamu had assured them that Magdelana must believe Flynn posed a threat.

  Lania leaned over and whispered, “You’ve gotten so much better, Flynn.”

  Flynn glanced nervously to her left and shivered involuntarily. Lania’s words sounded like a compliment but her eyes were calculating and dark.

  Po came and sat down between Flynn and Lania.

  “Where have you been?” Flynn whispered.

  “I’ll tell you later, eh? What did I miss?” he asked.

  “Pretty much this,” Flynn pointed to her and Hazel and continued, “and this,” she said as she pointed to the ground.

  He smiled, his warm toothy grin.

  Flynn smiled back, chewed her lip, and cautiously searched the neckline of his green tunic for any mysterious cords.

  “Is there something on my neck?” he asked, rubbing at a few dirt smudges with his equally grubby hands.

  “Yeah, the dirt,” Flynn said
nervously. “You got it. All gone.”

  “I need to talk to you both after class,” Po said.

  Flynn nodded and whispered the information to Hazel.

  Hazel peered around Flynn and stared at Po’s neck for a moment before she nodded.

  After Master Sorrel dismissed them Po grabbed each of the girls’ hands and pulled them around to the side of the hut. “Pokekohu,” he said as he waved his wand over their heads. He put his finger over his mouth to indicate silence and motioned for them to follow him.

  They walked to the edge of the village, past the baker’s, and through the waist-deep purple and yellow lupines near the river, before Po motioned for them to stop.

  “What spell did you use back there? Hazel asked.

  “It’s a simple spell from my younger days. I played the hide and seek game pretty badly, so I would cast a spell to set a heavy fog until I could get away from the group,” he answered.

  “So, it’s temporary?” asked Flynn.

  “Oh yes, but it gave us time to lose Lania,” Po chuckled.

  Hazel looked at Flynn and said, “I told you everyone notices how she follows us.”

  Flynn shrugged. “Why all the secrecy?”

  “I borrowed something from the House of Magickal Items a few weeks ago, and I need to put it back before our Level One test tomorrow. I need someone to act as lookout while I sneak back inside,” Po explained.

  She had been dreaming about another moment with The Book of Light ever since her first encounter. She took a deep breath and forced the excitement out of her voice. “I’ll go inside with you and Hazel can stay outside and watch for Lania.”

  “Why do you get to go inside?” asked Hazel.

  “If Lania shows up, you could actually do something about it. I would have to tackle her to the ground and hope Magdel—”

  “Flynn!” Hazel shouted.

  “Never mind, you know why.” Flynn turned away from her friend and hoped Po wouldn’t ask about her slip of the tongue.

  “All right, I’ll stand guard. But you better get in and out as fast as you can,” Hazel chided.

  “You’ll barely notice we’re gone, eh?” Po clapped his hands together and smiled. “Thanks, you’re true friends.”