Charlie pulled out the Witch Bottle, turning it over and over in her hands. Kat sat on the grass at the bottom of the ladder and closed her eyes as Agatha had showed her. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to draw out energy from under the ground.
At exactly five to midnight, Charlie tucked the bottle back into her jacket pocket and slowly climbed the ladder to Suzy’s window, trying not to creak on every step. She held herself in place just outside the glass and peered in between a crack in the curtains. The room was dark, but Charlie could make out Suzy’s shape in the bed. The clouds lifted and the full moon shot a narrow dart of white light into the room. Charlie could see Suzy’s face, troubled even in sleep. A low tingle ran up from her tummy. It was the curse, buzzing and dancing.
Charlie steadied herself and closed her eyes to focus. She pictured the words she needed, imagining every letter, every syllable. In an even voice she began to chant:
“By midnight clear,
By starlight strong,
I call you near,
Heed my song.”
A hiss filled her ears. She could feel something shifting. The air went cold and Charlie shivered. The curse was waking!
A wisp of bright green rose from the bed. And another. And another. The wisps spun and gathered, twisting and plaiting themselves to form a rope of cold green fire. The rope wound itself around Suzy, binding her tight in a python grip.
The crackle in the air grew louder and the buzzing felt worse than ever: a harsh scratching, rubbing at the inside of Charlie’s bones. Her hands trembled. She bit her lip hard and concentrated on pulling the end of the rope. She pictured the words she needed:
“Untie! Be free!
Relax! Release!
Let Suzy be,
Leave her in peace!”
The rope began to uncoil from the body on the bed.
This was the most dangerous part, Agatha had said. The curse was free! It floated upright just above the bed, swaying back and forth like a hypnotized snake.
Charlie steeled herself ready. She had to tame it, and she had to be fast. There was no time to worry about speaking. No time to do anything other than focus on the letters.
“I’m of the kin,
I share Eliza’s line,
I call you in,
I declare you mine.”
Now she knew what Agatha meant: it was like tug of war. The curse wanted to dive back down into Suzy. Charlie could feel it pulling to get away, to return to the body it came from. In her mind, Charlie pulled and pulled at the end of the long rope. It was so tiring! For a second her concentration dropped and she nearly lost her balance on the ladder. The curse fell away from her. She gave a little shriek as it slipped and flailed from wall to wall, flicking green sparks across the room. Charlie ducked as a finger of icy flame rushed at her. She’d lost control! Her legs tensed, ready to run.
All at once a warm force hit her from below. It was Kat! At the bottom of the ladder the familiar was sending up energy. Charlie breathed in hard and tightened her grip on the ladder. With Kat’s help she felt braver. She set her shoulders and focused on the rope of cold flame. She pictured Suzy’s hair, trying to trick the curse that Suzy was in the bottle. She said the words again, stronger this time. Her voice rang out clear and true:
“I call you in,
I declare you mine!”
She yanked hard in her mind, wrenching the rope, tugging it towards her.
The curse was confused, she could feel it. It pulled this way and that, first to the bottle then to the figure on the bed. Charlie centred herself, fixing the image of Suzy’s golden hair in her mind.
Whoosh!
The curse shot straight towards Charlie. The air was filled with a freezing green smoke that chilled her to the bone. She held out the bottle and the evil vapour curled itself in.
Charlie thought of the honey now, sticking the curse into place. She imagined tasting it, feeling the sweet gloopiness clogging her throat and trapping the curse.
“Light of light,
Sweet of sweet,
Bind it tight,
The spell’s complete.”
She fumbled with the cork. Hurry! Hurry! she told her shaking fingers. There! She pushed it down hard.
She had it! She had caught the curse.
Charlie heard a soft sigh from the bed. Suzy rolled over. A smile spread across her face as she snuggled down under her duvet, peaceful at last.
Charlie’s knees trembled in relief.
The ladder wobbled as she staggered down rung by rung and fell to the floor.
“What happened? Are you all right?” Charlie could hear the worry in Kat’s voice.
“I-I’m OK,” she answered feebly. She was exhausted!
“Did you get it?” Kat whispered anxiously.
Charlie lifted her tired head and grinned at her. “Got it!” she said. She lifted up the bottle for Kat to see.
Together they peered at the swirling mass of green smoke. With a shaky finger Kat reached out and touched the Witch Bottle.
“It feels so cold,” she said, yanking her finger back.
Charlie shivered. “Let’s take it to Agatha,” she said. “I can’t wait to get rid of it.”
Kat put the ladder away then she gave her arm to Charlie. Together they stumbled down Wood Street as quick as they could. Hopfoot was faster, flitting in and out of the trees.
As soon as they were out of the village, Charlie and Kat whooped for joy.
“We did it!” they cried as, arms entwined, they lurched through the woods and toppled through the cottage door.
Agatha was waiting for them. She turned pale when she saw Charlie leaning on Kat.
“What happened?” she asked quickly.
“I’m fine!” Charlie laughed, and fell on to an armchair. “My l-l-legs are just a bit wobbly.”
She reached into her pocket and held up the Witch Bottle in triumph.
A quick smile spread across Agatha’s face. She took the bottle from Charlie and cradled it in her hands. “Eliza’s curse,” she said in a low, soft voice.
Charlie and Kat looked at each other but stayed silent.
Agatha sighed. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the Witch Bottle. The green smoke swirled up to meet her fingers, pushing angrily against the inside of the glass. “This was what finally did it.” Her voice turned sharp. “This brought the havoc, and her death.” She turned to the fire. “Stand back!” she shouted.
Charlie and Kat drew back to the doorway as Agatha lifted her arm. She threw the bottle hard into the fire. There was a flash of green and a loud hiss as the glass bottle exploded.
When Charlie lifted her head she found Agatha looking at her.
“It is done,” said Agatha, her voice calmer.
But there was something Charlie had to know.
“If I’m related to Eliza, d-does that mean I’m … b-b-bad?”
Agatha stepped forward and took Charlie’s face in her hands. “No,” she said softly. “It is our actions that decide whether we are good or bad. Eliza wasn’t bad inside, she just chose the wrong path.” Her purple eyes were bright. “You did well, Charlie. I’m proud of you,” she said. “Both of you.”
Charlie felt a weight lift off her shoulders. “Thank you for t-t-teaching me,” she said.
Agatha cleared her throat and stood back. “Right. That’s enough fun. We’ve got lots to do. Spells don’t charm themselves.”
“Um,” Kat said, raising her hand sleepily, “it’s the middle of the night.”
Charlie yawned.
“Oh, yes,” Agatha realized. “Yes it is. Right. Well, tomorrow then? And the next day too. I think we’ll start with sigils … no … with telepathy. That will be most useful.” Her eyes shone with excitement.
Charlie and Kat looked at one another and grinned.
Sleepily they said goodbye to Agatha.
“See you t-t-tomorrow.” Charlie waved as they left the witch in the doorway, still thinking through pl
ans.
The girls parted at the old apple tree. “I’ve got to get back before Mum wakes up,” Kat said.
Charlie hugged her. “Thank you.” She was so pleased to have someone to share this adventure with!
Charlie stumbled home, tripping over her feet from exhaustion. She fell into bed, hoping for a few hours’ sleep before the family woke up. Her mind was still spinning from everything she’d seen that evening. They had done it! Suzy was free! She could sing in the school show on Monday. Charlie would watch her skipping down the Yellow Brick Road, knowing it had been the two of them – Charlie and Kat, witch and familiar – who had saved her.
She felt a little flip in her tummy at the thought of school. Heat filled her cheeks as she remembered the small matter of nearly setting fire to the music room. Then she swallowed. She was a witch now. Like Agatha had said, the path she’d chosen wouldn’t be an easy one. But I can do it, Charlie whispered to herself.
She touched the cottage wall and felt the usual buzz. It didn’t frighten her anymore. It was her connection with magic, with Eliza. Charlie gave secret thanks to her long-lost aunt for passing on the magic gene, even if Eliza had made mistakes at the end.
She thought back to when she’d first arrived, how she’d believed there was a vampire or a ghost living in the walls. She’d hated her voice so much during those first few weeks, starting her new school. Now … well, it was annoying sometimes, but it was worth putting up with. It would make her a better witch, Agatha said.
Charlie grinned as she remembered the list she’d made:
Ways to Catch a witch,
she’d called it. Now, in her head she added:
Number 7: Look in the mirror
“Again!” commanded the witch. She stamped her foot, and the ragged hem of her black dress swished across the muddy earth.
“Again? Really?” Charlie wriggled to find a more comfy position. It was getting chilly out here in the woods. The autumn leaves were scratchy under her jeans and her legs were starting to cramp.
“It’s cold,” her friend Kat grumbled opposite her. With her eyes closed, Charlie made a sympathetic face in response.
The witch sighed. “All right. Let’s stop for a bit. Come back in and we’ll have tea.” She turned on the heel of her black boot and opened the door of her tumbled-down cottage.
Charlie let out a breath of relief. She opened her eyes to find Kat grinning.
“Thought she’d never give us a rest!” Kat’s eyes flashed bright green under her huge glasses.
“I kn-know! We’ve been out here for hours!” Charlie shook out her aching limbs and turned her face to the weak sun.
Agatha was a hard taskmaster. For the last seven months the witch had been pushing Charlie and Kat further and further, helping them to develop their magical powers. It wasn’t easy. Spells took a lot of practice. And there was so much to learn.
Charlie scribbled a quick note in the lever-arch file next to her:
Wear warmer clothes for telepathy lessons.
The file was now so full of information it needed coloured dividers for all the sections. Charlie flipped the pages back to the start, feeling the heavy weight of her work – all that writing! She’d even had to make a contents page to organize it. She ran her finger over the biro indents:
Herbs:
Healing
Luck
Protection
Energy
Love/Friendship
Sleep
Crystals:
Healing
Prophesy
Communication
Calming
Charlie stopped her finger at:
Moon Phases:
New
Waxing
F ull
Waning
Eclipse
She felt a thrill run down her spine. There was due to be an eclipse in three weeks’ time. Everyone in town was talking about it. What’s more, it would be on the 31st October: Halloween (or “Samhain” as Agatha called it).
Samhain marked the end of summer and the start of the colder, harder months. It was an important night for witches. Traditionally, the Samhain blessing they chanted brought luck and strength to the village to see the people through the winter ahead. In Broomwood, Charlie’s village, no one had done the blessing for seventeen years; not since Agatha had given up magic. The winters had felt long and harsh. Some of the houses had been flooded at Christmas time three years in a row.
This year, Charlie was determined things would be different. Agatha had said that, if they were ready, Charlie and Kat could do the Samhain ritual themselves! Charlie grinned to herself – she couldn’t wait. When an eclipse fell, when the moon was dark, witchcraft was at its most powerful. Their magic would be extra strong. Charlie glanced at her note:
Eclipse + Samhain = Something Special
Three weeks to go … then Charlie and Kat would do their first blessing! Maybe it would bring the village good luck.
A low buzzing ran through Charlie’s bones at the thought of it, making her squirm.
“Whoah!” cried Kat, “You’re glowing so brightly!” she shielded her eyes with her hand.
“Sorry!” laughed Charlie. “I was just th-thinking about Halloween.”
“Well stop it or I’ll have to get prescription sunglasses.”
Kat sensed magic by light. To her, Agatha and Charlie had a soft glow. Whenever the two witches were doing a spell, the glow became stronger. For Charlie, magic felt like the warm fizz of electrical current. She forced her mind away from Halloween and the buzzing in her bones eased.
“Tea’s ready!” called Agatha from the cottage.
Kat sprang to her feet. She held out her hand to pull Charlie up and, as they touched, Charlie felt the hum of connection between them. Charlie was a new witch and Kat was her familiar. Familiars were usually animals: toads or crows, or cats. But Kat was a human familiar and together, Agatha had told them, Charlie and Kat could be very powerful.
Charlie pushed open the door of Agatha’s old cottage. The air was steamy and a pot of water bubbled on the fire. Charlie ducked under a hanging crystal and plonked herself on the rug by the flames. She rubbed her hands to warm them and Agatha passed her a mug of hot tea. Charlie bent her head and breathed in the steam; it smelled sweet and spicy. She looked up to find Agatha raising her eyebrows in a silent question.
“OK,” Charlie sighed. She sniffed the tea. “Um … I can smell h-h-honey…” She sniffed again. “Chamomile, lavender…” She screwed up her face to try and identify the other herbs. There was something sharper there too…“N-nettle?” she tried.
Agatha gave a little nod.
Phew. Little nods counted as high praise from Agatha.
“For energy,” Agatha explained as she gave Kat a mug of her own.
Charlie nursed the hot mug in her hands, warming her fingers. She took a little sip and gave a shiver of pleasure as the warm liquid ran through her.
Kat looked at her watch. “Whoops! It’s five – I have to be getting back soon,” she said. “Mum’ll be home from work in an hour.” Kat’s mum worked shifts at the local supermarket.
Five p.m.! Charlie was shocked too. Where had the day gone? Oh yes: mainly sitting on the cold ground, failing at telepathy. She rubbed the base of her back.
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to see into each other’s heads?”
“You will,” answered Agatha firmly. “You just have to focus.”
“I am f-f-focusing,” muttered Charlie defensively. She blushed as she felt her stammer flare up.
“No – you’re thinking. I can tell.” Agatha pursed her mouth. “It’s not something you can force, Charlie. You have to feel it.” Agatha put her gloved hand on the top of Charlie’s head and a warm tingle ran across her scalp.
“Relax your body.” Agatha’s voice became low and soft. “Concentrate on your breathing. Feel the air flowing into your body and out again. Let your mind go.”
Charlie could hear the gentl
e crackle of the fire; she felt the warmth of the rug under her legs. Her limbs softened and her head dropped under Agatha’s hand.
“Try to keep your thoughts still,” said the witch softly. “Focus on one thing.”
Charlie felt sleepy. She pictured her nice warm bed, her duvet pulled up tight to her shoulders and her pouch of lucky heather swinging over her head, back and forth, back and forth. She could smell a sweet, woody fragrance and a memory popped into her head. All at once she was back there, on the moonlit heath. A little white plant sparkled brightly before her and Hopfoot the crow was cawing in her ear as she snipped a flower.
Kat gave a cry and Charlie opened her eyes.
“I saw it! Just for a second, but I saw it!” The familiar was nodding in excitement, her glasses jiggling up and down wildly on her nose. “You were on open land somewhere, and there was a white flower.”
Charlie’s face broke into a wide grin. “I was p-picking heather!” she said. She looked at Agatha, her eyes bright.
Agatha gave a little nod as she took her hand away from Charlie’s head.
“I’m home!” Charlie’s voice rang out in the hallway. She heard a muffled response from the top of the house, and made her way up the teeny cottage stairs to see Mum poking her head upside down from a hatch in the ceiling.
“We’re clearing out the loft,” Mum announced. There was a tinkle of metal and Mum pulled her head back up for a moment. “No, Annie! Put that down,” she yelled to Charlie’s little sister. Then she was back. “There’s all kinds of junk up here. It’s a real mess – Annie’s having a great time. Come and see!”
Charlie put a foot on the ladder to climb up, and felt a shiver of electricity run through her. The family had inherited their house from Mum’s distant relative, Great Aunt Bess. Mum and Dad loved the old cottage, with its wonky stairs and ancient stone walls. They had no idea that, when Bess was alive:
1. She was sometimes known as Eliza
2. She was a friend of Agatha’s and, most importantly…
3. She was a witch
Not only a witch, but a witch who had got herself tangled in some very dark magic. Charlie frowned. She hoped there wasn’t anything too dangerous hiding up there in the loft.
How to Catch a Witch Page 10