He nods and smiles and again I’m struck by how good-looking he is.
“Okay. Ellis. I’m a witch.”
I smile, my expression still, waiting for the punchline, or the trick, or the real explanation.
“You don’t believe me, of course, listen. Witches are not just Halloween costumes, or legends from years gone by, or teenage girls trying to make black magic in their bedrooms. Witches are real, magic is real, I’m real.”
He pulls my hand up to his body, and covers it, so my hand is flat against his chest. I can feel his heart beating, perfectly normally, just like mine. “I’m a real person, alive, like you, yes?”
I am too dumbfounded to be touching him that I don’t answer.
“Yes?” He prompts me and I nod, extremely flustered, and yet still touching him. “Now watch.”
I watch – I cannot take my eyes off him, or my hand off him.
He lets go of my hand, but I don’t remove it from his chest, his beating heart, and he doesn’t seem to notice. He holds his hand out, right in front of my face and mutters something I can’t hear. A ball of light appears in his hand, not in his hand, just floating above his hand, not quite touching him, but quite clearly there. I move back, waking Macaroon and not even noticing at first. “What is it?”
“Just light. Just to show you. Watch.” He swirls his finger around and the ball of light starts to spin, faster and faster, brighter and brighter. It’s mesmerising to watch. He closes his fist; the ball disappears.
My heart is pounding. I cannot explain what I have just seen, but my brain wants to rationalise it. “I-”
He shakes his head and I am silent. “Watch.”
This time when he opens his palm and mutters, instead of a ball of glowing light, there is a bird there. I rub my eyes and laugh. I still want to argue with what I’m seeing with my own eyes. “You’re a magician?”
He shakes his head, jumps up, opens the door, and lets the bird fly free.
I am silent. I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them. A witch?
“So, you’re a wizard?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No. I’m a witch. Wizards are for stories; this is real life.”
Real life? I am questioning that concept a little.
“I’m a witch and the ceremony you saw, was me being invested, in my father’s place, as the head witch of the whole of Britain.
I am impressed. “Wow, so there are a lot of you?”
“About five percent of humans aren’t really humans.”
“Five percent of the population are witches?”
He shakes his head, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. “Not just witches. Shifters – like werewolves, but they can actually shift into anything, even other people, vampires and fairies.”
I shake my head. Weirdly, the witch thing I could believe, but Tinkerbell? Tinker – hell, no. “No way!”
“I can’t prove that to you, not right now, but it’s true.” He looks so vulnerable and I feel a thrill. I am the only person – human – he’s ever told his secret to.
6
“OKAY, I BELIEVE YOU.” She concedes and Fletcher breathes a sigh of relief. “So, you’re in charge. That must be pretty scary?” She still has her knees tucked into her chest, a strange look on her face, and he feels so sorry for her. She’s had a weird night, a crack to the head, a fright, and he’s about to make her night even worse.
“It is, well, it would be, but...”
He takes a deep breath, and another. “Ellis – the ceremony didn’t go as planned.”
“Because I interrupted it?” She looks aghast. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, can you do it again? What about all those people – were they all witches, or some vampires too? – will they come back to watch it again?”
He shakes his head. “So, when you interrupted-” he uses her word. “The ceremony, you sort of got caught in the magic – in the way – and so, it didn’t make me head of all supernatural beings, it made you.”
“It made me what?”
He can’t help but smile. She really has no idea. “Ellis. You are the head of all supernatural beings in Britain. You! You ran through the middle, got in the way, and got hit with the magic that was meant for me.”
She shakes her head. “That’s ridiculous and also impossible. I’m not a witch.”
“You are now.”
He steps closer to her, and despite his panic at telling her this, he is very aware of the smell of her, strawberries and apple, and the heat from her body. He takes her hand, unfurls the clenched fist and smooths it flat. He looks at her, faces close. “Say light and look at your hand.”
She nods. “Light.”
They both scream and jump apart as a flash of light explodes from her hand, sending sparks of bright white heat flying around the room. The door bangs open and his mother and aunt rush in with the twins trailing behind.
“Fletcher! What’s happening?”
“I told her. That’s all.”
Elodie raises a hand, and all the tiny sparks of light shoot towards her. She makes a fist and it vanishes. “So where did the explosion come from?”
“I was showing her-”
Ember tuts and sighs and clips him around the ear. “Showing her! She’s an accident. A newly hatched witch – an accidently hatched witch. Don’t show her anything.”
“She could have killed you both!” Elodie grabs her boy and hugs him close.
Ellis frowns. “I’m sorry I-”
They all turn and shush her – even Fletcher.
“Hey!” At the word bright green sparks fly out of her fingertips and Macaroon barks with fright.
They all take a step back, including Ellis. “What was that?”
She looks scared. Elodie looks ashamed now, and takes the girl by her shoulders, leads her to a seat. “You’ve had a shock. You’re a witch now, lovely. Those sparks were because you feel angry.”
Ellis stares down at her hands, and Ember rolls her eyes. “Hey, accident! You’ll have to learn to control yourself.”
Elodie glares at her sister. “Really? That was so helpful. Why don’t you take the girls home, and Lincoln, and leave this to me and Fletcher?”
“Fine!” She doesn’t even try to argue, just gestures with a turn of her head, and the girls follow her. Talia comes back and takes Lincoln’s elbow, leading him out of the cabin.
“Accident?”
“Ignore my sister. She was expelled from charm school. Listen-” She looks at Fletcher because she cannot remember the girl’s name.
He mouths the word, Ellis.
Elodie smiles her thanks at him. “Ellis. I know this is strange and scary and confusing. We were all born witches, we learned how to manage our powers at the same time we learned to walk and talk and pee on a toilet. This is going to be hard for you, but I promise we will help you. Me and Fletcher, probably not my sister, but the girls too.”
Ellis looks petrified. “I’m scared.”
“I know lovely. Truth be told, so are we. Our existence is a nationally guarded secret. Only the Queen knows about us. Humans don’t know about us, can’t know about us.”
“The Queen? Really?”
Elodie nods. “Yes. What happened tonight should never have happened, but until we can fix it or sort it or figure out how to undo it, we’ll help you and sort it out.”
“Really?”
“Really. Right, Fletcher, this girl has a home to go to and parents who might be wondering where she is, can you take her please? I’ll go back to the house and sort out Lincoln. Send him on his way. And have a word with my sweet and lovely sister. Thank goodness it’s the weekend, it gives us a bit more time. Ellis, can you come to ours in the morning? At about nine?”
She nods but doesn’t speak. She’s peering at her hands, worry colouring her face. Fletcher takes one of her hands and she flinches, pulls away.
“You can’t hurt me.”
“Are you sure?”
He nods and takes h
er hand. “See?”
She allows herself to be led out of the cabin and stands where she’s put, while Fletcher goes back inside to talk to his mum and grab Macaroon. Elodie shakes her head, the expression on her face sombre. “Fletcher, I have no idea if this is going to be okay. The only good thing is that Lincoln made the blood bond, so the others won’t find out. We’d have an even bigger problem on our hands otherwise. Take her home, reassure her. She seems very sweet, but she has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. Here-” She hands him the dog.
“Can’t we spell her? So she doesn’t accidently spark off and set her house on fire.”
Elodie shakes her head, no. “Fletcher – we can’t do anything to her – she is more powerful than any one of us, than all of us put together. She has no idea of how to control her magic, but she has more of it than any of us.”
He is stunned into silence and goes outside with the dog. Ellis hasn’t moved. She looks strange, like she’s seen something or heard something awful and can’t stop replaying it in her head. “Hey.” It takes her a few seconds to turn and she is crying. “Hey, don’t cry.”
He steps closer to her, touches her back, pats her, a bit awkwardly.
She shakes her head. “I’m fine. Just a bit...” She trails off and he nods. What can she say? He completely understands where she’s coming from and why she’s so upset and out of sorts. She’s gone from not knowing witches exist to being the most powerful one.
Fletcher wipes her tears away from her cheeks with his thumb. “Let’s go.”
They walk around the outskirts of the forest, staying well away from the revellers, and the booming music.
“I can’t believe all this is going on here and nobody knows.”
“We spell the whole place. No one can hear anything or see anything. We still don’t know how you got in. There should have been a protective circle around the whole place.”
“I could feel that. Macaroon ran away and I chased her, but then I saw her bounce back from thin air. There was nothing there, but I could feel something. It was like a bouncy castle. Really weird. I kept following her and then she vanished. I ran to where I saw her last and found myself surrounded by people.”
He shakes his head. “Rookie mistake. Someone left a gap. Probably a young witch, not so experienced.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your magic thing.”
“It’s not your fault, it’s whoever cocked up the magic circle. But it doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s done now.”
She looks sad and scared and he takes her hand again, trying to send comfort her way.
She looks up at him when his hand touches hers, and he feels goose bumps cover his arms. She smiles and he smiles back. How is this girl – this sad girl in charge of everything, every one of the magical creatures in Britain? It doesn’t make sense, it can’t be true, and yet it is.
“Here it is,” Fletcher says, reaching out and touching the magic circle of protection. “You’re right. It does feel like a bouncy castle. I’ve never noticed that before.”
She smiles up at him and he makes a gap big enough for the both of them.
Once they are outside of it, he closes the gap, keeping the rest of the witches safe while they celebrate his new position.
They are quiet the rest of the way to her house. He feels really awkward. Before yesterday he had never even spoken to her.
“Thank you for bringing me home. And thank you for bringing me my chocolate earlier, well, yesterday I suppose.”
“It’s fine. Not a problem.”
“I’m scared. What if I hurt someone in my family?”
“You won’t. Just stay calm and very still. Don’t flap your arms around too much, don’t-”
“Ellis!”
They both turn at the voices calling out from the house. It’s her parents, looking half mad with worry.
Fletcher smiles and tries to look as wholesome as possible. He lets go of her hand.
“Where have you been, we couldn’t find you.”
“I went to lock up and you were gone.”
Fletcher holds out Macaroon as an explanation; he can see that Ellis is afraid to speak or move in case she puts some kind of spell on her parents.
“Macaroon ran away. Ellis was chasing him, and I found her, down by the park.”
“Ah thank you so much. Ellis, are you okay?”
She manages to nod, and Fletcher breathes a sigh of relief. He pats her shoulder and whispers to her, “see you in the morning.”
Ellis
MY MUM AND DAD LOOK as worried as I feel.
I’m a witch?
I kiss them both, apologise and tuck Macaroon into my dad’s hands.
I rush upstairs. I’m almost at the top, when my mum calls: “Ellis, what happened to your hair?”
I touch my hair and I can feel straight away that my normally sleek and well behaved hair is not sleek any more. I can feel frizzy, crazy curls: all the sleekness of my hair is gone. “Must have been the rain,” I call and run away before she calls me back, before she inspects me too closely, before she sees that something is different about me, because mums know everything.
Well, she can’t know this.
I lock my bedroom door and check the time on my phone. It’s almost two a.m., no wonder my mum and dad were worried. I set an alarm for eight, and then I cross over the room to my mirror.
My hair is wild. I shake my head. I must be a witch! I’m always trying to curl my hair but within minutes it’s poker straight again. I give it a flick, I love it.
Then I sit cross-legged on my bed.
I hold out my hands – I want to test my new powers; this magic Fletcher says I have. I know I have it, I saw it, but I’m scared.
Is it mine, or was it a trick?
Why would they trick me, why would anyone lie about what I’ve just been told?
How does this magic thing work, then? Fletcher didn’t have a wand. I didn’t use a wand. But I almost set the cabin on fire.
I need to be careful, but I can’t resist.
Do I just think things or say things?
I hold out my hands. They look just the same as they ever did. Long nails, glitter nail varnish, a ring shaped like a crown – Molly had an identical one.
How do I get my magic to work? I don’t want a bird in my room, or to set the place on fire. What’s a nice, safe, word I can say to test myself?
I peer intently at my hand and think the word chocolate.
There’s no noise, but I can feel a shift in the air, maybe even a subtle change in temperature, and there’s chocolate in my hand. Just one square of milk chocolate, sitting on my palm, when it wasn’t there before.
I squeal, and wriggle. This is amazing!
I nibble a tiny bit of the corner of it, just in case – maybe magic chocolate isn’t real chocolate.
It is real chocolate.
I do it again. “More chocolate.” This time I get a whole bar, and I squeal again. I cannot help it. How do these witches ever get anything done?
I don’t eat it, I put it on my bedside table. “Pepsi.” Suddenly my hand is soaking wet, as Pepsi pours from thin air. I laugh despite the mess, and jump up to get a towel, I catch my foot on my blanket and fall to the floor with a thud. I see magic hasn’t made me less clumsy. Yet!
“Can of Pepsi.” I have to clutch hold of it, because a can has appeared out of nowhere. I open it and drink it – it’s ice cold.
I know that Fletcher and his family aren’t happy about what’s happened, but I am! I’m a witch, a real witch. I wish Molly was here to see this. I shiver imagining the fun we’d have, the trouble we’d get into.
I wonder...
I pause and shake my head. I almost started a fire today; I cannot try to conjure up my dead best friend. Not yet.
But I am determined to ask Fletcher if he’ll help me.
Back to my magic. What else can I do? Money. I wonder if I can conjure up money. I imagine a five-pound note and there it
is in my hands. It feels the same as a proper one – then I laugh. Witches must be taught a lot of self control through their lives – they aren’t all rolling in money, eating magic chocolate all day long. I think of Fletcher and the evil twins – I would never have guessed that they were witches, or supernatural in any way.
I mean, they’re a good looking bunch, and clever, good at sports, popular...
It hits me then – they obviously don’t use their magic to make themselves the richest people in the land – or maybe they do but they keep their wealth hidden away – but it does make their lives easier, better, just with the day to day things.
I’ll reckon I’ll keep my wealth hidden away.
I add another fiver, and another one, until I have a hundred pounds in my hands.
The clothes I could buy with all this.
Then I shake my head. They don’t need loads of money because they magic up everything they want.
I imagine some shoes. Nothing too fancy. Just some Vans.
They are in my hands. I actually jump up and down. I am so excited about this. I cannot help myself.
I magic up shoes, skirts, jewellery, makeup, more food, DVDs, an iPad. This is so much fun, and completely irresistible. If anyone walked into my room right now, they’d assume I’d been on a shoplifting spree.
I sober up, looking at all of the stuff I have magicked up.
I have been on a shoplifting spree really. I haven’t paid for any of it. Where did it come from?
Have I magicked it from a shop to my bedroom or is it a figment of my imagination? Have I conjured it from thin air and soon it will go back there?
I’m so confused and annoyed with Fletcher. Why didn’t he tell me more about my magic, about being a witch?
Are there parameters, limits, penalties? Am I going to be thrown into witch jail for stealing? I have no idea how to undo any of it, so I pile all my new things up in the corner of the room and lay in bed, blanket pulled up to my chin.
I’ll ask Fletcher tomorrow. He’ll know what to do.
Then comes another worry.
What if I magic in my sleep?
Should I try to stay awake?
I’m so nervous that I suddenly feel sick. New witches should get a mentor. I’m going to suggest that tomorrow too.
The Accidental Witch Page 6