Eva Evergreen, Semi-Magical Witch

by Julie Abe

Mayor Taira’s voice rose with alarm. “Temporary? We can’t have temporary—”

  “Don’t worry,” Rin said. “Don’t worry, Eva. Rest now.”

  CHAPTER 10

  A MAGICAL REQUEST

  My muscles screamed with pain as I stirred awake. I leaned against the rocky cliffs and faced the open sea, with Rin’s green jacket tossed over my shoulders. Ragged tears ruined my black dress, and falling had left my palms scraped raw. My teeth rattled from shivers; I was drained of all magic. Pulling Rin’s jacket around my shoulders, I trembled from the cold coming from within me, even though the afternoon air was still warm.

  Ships drifted gently outside Auteri’s cliffs. Down on the Hyodo, in the midst of the sailors, Rin carted away broken wood from the deck.

  I crawled down the cliffs. The ship’s hull was cracked, but it floated, and the stairway had been opened up. I jumped the small gap from the rocks to the deck of the Hyodo. Some of the rescue workers stared as I stumbled aboard.

  I made my way over to Rin and asked, “Rin, where are the passengers? Are they safe?”

  Rin’s honey-brown eyes widened when she realized I stood next to her. “Eva, thank goodness you’re okay,” she cried, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me into a hug. “They’ve been taken to the infirmary. We were going to take you there, but we’ve never taken care of a witch, so we weren’t sure if we should move you.”

  “I’m okay,” I said, summoning up a small smile. “I just get, um, tired after using spells.”

  “Is that usual for witches and wizards?” Rin asked, frowning. “I’ve never heard of that before.”

  I blushed, tongue-tied. “Not with most.”

  A throat cleared from behind me and I turned around. Mayor Taira nodded her head stiffly. “Thank you for helping us, Evalithimus.”

  I wanted to tell her that everyone called me Eva, but even in my foggy head, correcting her didn’t seem like a bright idea.

  “I’ll grant you a boon on behalf of the town of Auteri,” Mayor Taira continued. “We can outfit you with new clothes for you to continue your journey, perhaps?”

  From behind her, the rescue team elbowed one another and hushed, leaning closer to hear our conversation.

  “A boon?” I echoed.

  From behind Mayor Taira, Charlotte stopped, a pile of broken wood in her arms. She lifted her head, staring down her snub nose.

  My mind wasn’t thinking fast enough. I needed to ask for something, something meaningful. “Ah, yes, I do have a request, Mayor Taira.”

  Her voice was polite. “Yes?”

  “Mayor Taira, may I… may I stay?”

  “Here?” Mayor Taira asked, her thin eyebrows rising.

  I squared my shoulders. “This is where I want to earn my rank as a Novice Witch.”

  “That’s a lot to ask, for a witch who is too weak to cast proper spells.”

  “Mother!” Rin said sharply.

  “Rin,” Mayor Taira snapped back. “This is my town. Not yours, not after you chose to work on the boats.”

  “No matter how much you don’t want to see me, don’t direct that anger toward Eva!”

  Mayor Taira reared her head back, and I swore I caught the briefest flash of sadness—and, seemingly, regret.

  I clamped my hands into fists. I couldn’t let Rin fight my battles, especially not at the cost of ruining her already rocky relationship with her mother.

  The magical ticket might’ve told me where to get off, but Auteri needed me just as much as any town in the realm. The cottage had been buried in grime and dust, and I knew no witch or wizard had taken care of Auteri in a long time. The Council had forgotten about them. This would be the perfect place for me to become a Novice Witch—if Mayor Taira would let me.

  Rin hissed at her mother, “We’ve been waiting for someone to help the town for more than a decade—”

  I cleared my throat, and Rin’s eyes shot to mine; she clamped her lips down.

  “I’ll only stay here for one moon, and if I do help the town of Auteri sufficiently, then I would ask for you to sign off on my Novice Witch application.”

  Rin cleared her throat. “What do you need in order to pass your quest?”

  Mayor Taira lifted her chin. “We cannot—”

  “We cannot go another year without help, Mother. Look at how Eva’s saved us here. Remember what happened last year with Kelpern and the Culling. You’ve heard the news. It’s not like the Council has enough witches and wizards to grant one to every town in the realm.” Rin smiled encouragingly. “What do you need, Eva?”

  My eyes darted between Rin and Mayor Taira.

  “Fine, I’ll listen,” Mayor Taira snapped. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll agree to it.”

  Rin’s shoulders sagged, and she spoke so softly that I could barely hear her. “Thank you, Mother.”

  Mayor Taira’s gaze flickered, softening. Her hands, stiff at her sides, seemed to reach out toward Rin for the briefest instant, but they curled up into fists again. Instead, Mayor Taira’s eyes narrowed at me. “What do you want, Apprentice Witch?”

  “I would like to request three things,” I said.

  The mayor crossed her arms.

  “First, I’d like a storefront to start a repair shop in Auteri. And I’d like to stay in the cottage on the cliffs.”

  “I counted two items. And?”

  “And I need a guardian.” I gulped. “The guardian’s a contact between the townspeople and the Novice-in-Training. Most times… most times… it’s the leader of the town.”

  “Well.” She turned away. “That’s an easy answer—no.”

  “No?” My stomach slid down to my feet.

  “I will not be your guardian. I do not have time to take care of a child.”

  I stared, at a loss for words. The sailors and townspeople ducked their heads so they wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  Rin stepped forward. “I’ll be Eva’s guardian. The other requests are simple boons, Mother.”

  Mayor Taira tapped her chin with her thin fingers, stretching out the painfully long silence. “You said you wanted to travel the coast and see the realm, and now you choose to stick around?”

  “I don’t love Auteri any less for wanting to be on the boats,” Rin replied. Then, almost quieter than the sea breeze, she added, “Or you any less, Mother.”

  Mayor Taira jerked her head away, toward the crowd that had quieted and was waiting for her answer. Finally, not meeting Rin’s eyes, she slowly inclined her chin. “Very well, then. Evalithimus, I grant you a space for this repair shop of yours and permission to live in the cliffside cottage. And, since she offered, Rin will be your guardian. I will grant you these boons on one condition—you must prepare Auteri for the Culling.”

  Her words slammed into my chest, knocking the breath from my lungs. The Culling? Even Mother had to band together with nine other witches and wizards to barely save Kelpern from the Culling.

  What was I supposed to do as a lone, weak witch?

  “The Culling doesn’t come until late autumn, though. We’ve got five or six moons, at the earliest.” Rin frowned. “Her quest is only for one moon.”

  Mayor Taira sighed, as if tired of having to explain it. “She’ll have to figure out clever ways to fix up our town to withstand the brunt of the Culling before she leaves. I’ll only sign her application if she shows me proof of these safeguards and her overall contributions to my townspeople.”

  Ideas sparked in my mind. Perhaps I could strengthen the buildings and cliffs to withstand a rockslide or heavy rains. Or maybe I could use my repair magic to craft tools to help the townspeople.

  Mayor Taira turned to me and her gaze darkened. “If you cannot help Auteri in its times of need, I will not sign your papers.”

  If she didn’t approve my application, I would never become a Novice Witch.

  Grand Master Grottel would act on his threat. The Council would strip my magic away from me.

  But… even those thoughts and her deep frown co
uldn’t keep delicate tendrils of joy from blossoming inside my heart. I had a chance. The smallest of possibilities, but it was still a chance.

  The Culling was far enough away that I wouldn’t be here when it hit. And after I left, I could appeal to the Council to arrange for my mother or Conroy or any other wizard or witch to watch over Auteri.

  If I stayed here, I could pass my Novice Witch quest. I’d get to keep my magic.

  “Understood.” I clasped my hands together and fought to keep from spinning and dancing around on the spot.

  “Welcome to Auteri,” she said, her voice still cool. “I expect only the best for my town, Evalithimus.”

  I swept into a deep bow, ducking my head down. I needed to keep my magic. I loved magic more than breathing, even more than Father’s croissants or redbud jam. I would have to do everything possible to help Auteri prepare for the Culling.

  CHAPTER 11

  THE MAGICAL REPAIR SHOP

  Rin drove me back to town by motorcycle. She parked at the town hall so I could pick up my knapsack. After that, she had planned to take me back to my cottage to rest, but I couldn’t wait. I wanted to see my new shop straightaway.

  We threaded through the main square outside the town hall, bursting at the seams with tourists visiting the stalls even in the dusky late afternoon. She waved at a few shopkeepers and glanced at me apologetically. “Your store is by the docks, on the other side of town. That was the most Kyo could manage last minute.”

  “That’s fine.” My heart thrummed with excitement. Just like in my dream, I would layer thick carpets on the floor and make my store inviting, a haven where the townsfolk could relax with a mug of steaming barley tea, like back at home, and leave with their things fixed and feeling rested. “Thank you for volunteering to be my guardian, Rin.”

  “You remind me of when I set off on my journey to work on the boats. I was just about your age, and all the other captains didn’t want a scrawny thing like me. Only one captain took a chance, and to me, that one chance was the world.” She squinted at the setting sun as we walked down the long main street. “Ah, we’re this way.”

  Rin guided me to the right as we walked onto the docks. The afternoon glow danced on the water as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon.

  “At home, it’s all dainty houses and rolling hills.” I stared out at the water. “This is dizzying, with all sea and no land as far as I can see.” I shook my head, trying to break the sea’s enchantment on me. “So, where’s Ten Corsair?”

  “It should be over here. Here’s Eleven Corsair—oh, it’s Seafoam Sweets, their sugar sculptures always draw folks to our town. Seafoam’s sugar dusklight flowers are the best souvenirs, along with our sweet corn and cloudberries. That’s why there’s always a line.”

  So many people were shopping inside that more than a dozen people waited at the door. The shop’s huge window displayed a honey-gold trading ship, no bigger than my handspan, with white sails unfurled. The ship sailed on a foaming sea, breaking through a blue-white wave and tilting up, as if it was flying.

  “Is that made of sugar?” I peered closer in awe. “Or glasswork?”

  Rin breathed out. “All sugar: the sails, the water, the boat itself. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” We walked a few steps past a gap between the buildings. “Ah, and here’s the orphanage—it’s Nine Corsair. You’re neighbors.”

  A few kids, maybe six or seven years old, sat on the porch steps, laughing with one another as they played a game of light-paper-water. “Rin, Rin,” they cried. “Come play!”

  “Maybe later,” she called back.

  “We want to play now,” one of the boys grumbled.

  “Ask Char for a new paper animal. And if you all behave, I’ll be by later with cloudberry cookie drops.”

  The kids cheered and clambered off the steps, pushing one another as they raced inside. The girl shouted, “Last one to find Char gets turned into a frog!”

  One of the boys hollered after her, “That was the witch! Char said the evil witch is gonna turn you into a frog!”

  Rin grinned. “Better not tell them whether or not you will do that. They’ll listen better if you keep it a mystery.”

  I stifled a laugh, looking around again. “Wait, where’s my shop?”

  We backtracked between Seafoam Sweets and the orphanage, stopping in front of the empty lot.

  In the middle, a small sign on a stake pierced the dirt. I walked closer and read the painted, peeling words. “Ten Corsair…?”

  It was a rectangle of dirt and patches of weeds, enclosed by three white walls from the neighboring buildings. Rin swallowed. “It looks like this… is it.”

  I wanted to sink into the ground. I balled my hands into fists and dug my nails into my palms, the sharp pain reminding me not to cry.

  This empty lot wasn’t anything close to my dream shop.

  Over our heads, seagulls screeched as a boat pulled in. The fishermen tossed buckets full of fish onto the dock. My stomach turned as traces of the sun-warmed fish guts they had used for bait wafted out, sour and rotten.

  “I’m sorry.” Rin bit her lip. “Mother refuses to forgive me for running off to work on the boats, instead of working in the town hall for her. And now she’s taking it out on you. Maybe Kyo will have somewhere else that’ll open up? I mean, you helped us so much today.”

  I had already tested Mayor Taira’s patience. I could only imagine her telling me to go home if I asked for an actual storefront.

  I shook my head. “It should never have taken so long to think of a spell. The Council would be appalled if they knew.” My face flamed. “And I fainted.”

  “We couldn’t have gotten them out as fast without you—if at all. So thank you, Eva. You changed our fates for the better when you decided to come to Auteri.”

  I lowered my eyes. The rest of the town didn’t know what a real witch was like, but Mayor Taira knew what a poor bargain she’d gotten with me and my pinch of magic.

  I couldn’t keep asking for more. Turning to Rin, I forced the biggest smile I could summon. “I like this spot. You can’t beat the view.”

  “I bet you’ll enchant this lot into a palace before I know it.”

  Even if I had to magic a smile onto my face, I’d manage it for Rin. “Will you come visit when my repair shop opens?”

  “As your guardian, of course. I would break things just to create a reason to visit you,” she said, and then my smile didn’t feel so fake anymore.

  When I got home, the flamefox was curled up on the windowsill. His ears perked up as soon as I turned around the corner of the cliff. He streaked out of the cottage, like a sunset-red bolt.

  He barked, and I groaned. I had forgotten to ask about his owner. It had completely slipped from my mind the instant I’d heard of the sinking ship.

  “Hello, little flamefox.” He pranced around me, weaving in and out of my legs as I dragged myself slowly up the steps.

  I stopped at the doorway and leaned down. I brushed my fingers against suspicious gnaw marks on the white wood door.

  You told me to wait, he seemed to say plaintively. I got bored.

  “Don’t tell me…” I was too drained to fix it. I slumped on the cottage floor. The wind blowing in through the door was icy cold, but I didn’t have energy for another step.

  “You’re not supposed to chew on the door. This place isn’t yours to wreck—it’s not mine, even.” A familiar purple book lay on the ground with its cover gnawed. “Don’t tell me that’s Potions of Possibilities.”

  The flamefox licked my hand, as if sort-of-not-really apologizing. His tail wagged fast, like glowing embers in a fire.

  “It’s been a long day, Ember. I’ll fix the door tomorrow.” Then I stopped. “Did I just—”

  And now I had named this fiery spark of trouble.

  Pressing my cheek against the wood floor, I mumbled, “I promise to ask around tomorrow, when I’m setting up my new shop, okay?”

  And then I fell asleep on
the floor.

  I woke a few hours later. A gust of salty wind blew over me and I shivered.

  The cold night air coursed through the gaping open door. I should’ve been frozen to my bones, but my body was strangely warm.

  While I slept, Ember had curled around my body, between me and the door. He was as hot as a furnace, with his head leaning on my shoulder.

  He whined when I blinked.

  “Thanks, Ember.” I cracked a small smile. “I guess I forgive you for breaking the door.”

  The flamefox stood and stretched, then leaped up on the mattress. I pushed the door closed and pulled out a bag of slightly squashed contomelon rolls and a tiny round of herb-coated soft cheese from my pocket. I was about to set it on one of the kitchen shelves—surprisingly, Ember hadn’t already helped himself to it—but my stomach protested immediately.

  I crawled into bed and Ember curled up next to me. I was too tired to cut up the mouthful of cheese, so I nibbled on it, chewy herbed rind and all, alternating with mouthfuls of decadent bread. The sweet, buttery rolls were formed in the shape of round contomelons, with a hint of juicy melon flavor woven through their fluffy insides. I fed wisps of bread without the crackly sugar crust to Ember, who lapped them up hungrily, but he also seemed to be listening carefully, ears turned toward me, as I told him about the boat wreck and everything I had planned for my shop. “I’ll need so much to get the shop started. There’s got to be something I can use for counters.…”

  He pushed his warm muzzle against my cheek insistently, so I dusted the bread crumbs off my fingers and started petting him. The flamefox stretched out under my hand.

  “I need to help the town, too. But you know what the issue is?” My voice cracked. “I’m not sure… how.”

  Ember growled under his breath, as if telling me not to wallow in my worries.

  “Right, right. Father always says to think of a fix. And Mother says to make a list. Okay. Maybe I can strengthen the buildings?” I sat up. “Maybe a twist on that spell I made today—Stand up, stand tall, this boat will stay strong and protect all.”