Eva Evergreen, Semi-Magical Witch

by Julie Abe

  “There has to be something else we can do,” I said. “Something. Anything.”

  Charlotte stared down at the small turtle in her hand and tugged the shell back into shape. “We’re magicless. You’re the witch. You can’t make a shield?”

  “I would’ve done that if I could. I won’t be able to make a shield to last through the storm.” I swallowed. “I… I’m not strong enough.”

  The paper crinkled in her fists. My blood pulsed so fast that my heartbeat drummed in my ears.

  “You’re plenty strong with what you have,” Charlotte said, her voice cracking slightly. “Even if you say you’ve got just a bit of magic, you’ve done a lot for the town already. For me, even. Think of all you’ve done.”

  Seaweed and rocks. Corn and cloudberries. Fixes that, without a clever idea and a pinch of magic, would’ve never worked.…

  Yet—yet they had worked.

  An idea unfurled in my mind. The turtle’s shell was round and solid… kind of like an umbrella, or maybe even a shield.… What if we made a lot of these? I grabbed Charlotte’s hand and uncurled her shaking fingers. “I might have an idea.…”

  And I knew a fearless adventurer, too, someone who had told me stories about his childhood climbing all over the cliffs.…

  I brushed my fingers against the turtle cupped in Charlotte’s hand. It was still dry to the touch, even though it had fallen into the puddle. The waterproofing potion had worked well. My heart started beating faster and faster.

  “What if… what if you folded parchment into shields, like the shell of a turtle? We could link the shields together.”

  Davy turned his head to the side with curiosity. “How’ll the paper withstand the water?”

  “My waterproofing potion. And it’ll take a simple spell to stick them to the entrance of the bay so they lock in place. I’ll use one more spell to expand Charlotte’s paper chain and make them gigantic and strong, and they’ll be high enough to stop the brunt of the Culling. I don’t have the magic to turn tides or create a shield out of nothing. But I might be able to do something like this.”

  His eyes widened and he nodded slowly. “It… it might work.”

  “I’m not going to be able to make enough to cover the whole coast,” Charlotte whispered. Yet she pulled a new square of parchment out of her pocket, and her fingers whirled as she started folding a new piece, this time into a shield.

  Davy’s eyes sparkled. “We have a whole town that wants to help.” He gestured his thumb at the town hall. “All we need is parchment and instructions. Char, show us how to make the shield and we’ll ask around. We’ll get these finished in no time.”

  Charlotte, Davy, and I sprinted to the town hall. First, I found Rin, and explained the idea to her.

  “I always knew you’d think of something.” My guardian’s hand on my shoulder, full of belief in me, felt just like Mother’s touch before I’d boarded the ship, and my heart swelled with hope.

  Rin waved over Ami, who introduced us to a handful of her friends, including a few older shopkeepers whose legs were too weak to walk up the slope, some of the dockworkers who had rowed me in to Auteri, and their families. The kids squealed and grabbed at the parchment with relish.

  “This is perfect. They were about to crawl up the walls with boredom,” one of the dockworkers said, shaking his head at his three kids.

  “And this feels like I’m doing something more than waiting and listening for the typhoon to hit our shores,” added Ami, rubbing her arms for warmth.

  Charlotte waved over some of the younger orphanage kids who couldn’t make the climb up. Hikaru still clutched the dolphin, holding it close to him like a good-luck charm. One of Davy’s sailor friends limped over, looking like a soggy scarecrow with a shock of black hair covering his scarred face.

  Charlotte showed us how to make the shields, and we began piling the finished shields into her messenger bag. Some of ours—Davy’s in particular and, well, maybe a few of mine—looked more like lumps than shields. Charlotte’s fingers whizzed over our papers and teased out the uneven corners, and Ami gave her spools of bright blue thread and a needle to link the shields together.

  The townsfolk took to folding the parchment with ease. Before long, they began chatting and telling tall tales as their fingers crafted shields. Even so, their eyes darted to the door each time it creaked open.

  “Checking in,” one of the sailors called, the rain roaring as he slipped inside. He hurried up the stairway to Mayor Taira’s office.

  Hikaru snuck after him and returned a few minutes later, reciting his report: “He said, ‘Water’s flooding well over the docks, Mayor Taira.’ Is that bad?” He looked around.

  Davy’s father was still out at the docks. Yuri and Edmund rushed out to pull him to safety.

  Charlotte handed Hikaru another piece of parchment, her voice wobbling slightly. “It’s okay. If we fold these papers, it’s the best chance we’ve got to save the town.”

  Sweat beaded on my neck. The sea roared outside, creeping closer. What if our idea didn’t work?

  Charlotte, Davy, and I stared at one another, trying to hide our unease from the other townsfolk.

  “I need to make a run to my cottage.” I breathed in quickly, my lungs feeling strained. “The waterproofing potion’s up there.”

  “We just need a few more shields.” Charlotte’s forehead creased as she glanced at me. “We can do this, Eva.”

  Davy nodded, yet even he looked pale.

  As more townsfolk filtered into the town hall, we handed them a stack of parchment squares and set them to work. Before long, the burlap bag was plump and nearly spilling over.

  I nodded tersely at Charlotte. “This’ll have to do. I’ll get the potion and Ember and—”

  Charlotte looked at something behind me and dropped her shield. A prickle ran down my spine.

  “See, Mayor Taira,” a girl’s voice cut in. “The witch is having them all fold paper.”

  I spun around. The pirates—Soma and his friends—had brought the mayor to us. I glared at Soma, whose eyes slid away as soon as he caught sight of me, and the girl with long braids leading the pack. Soma opened his mouth. “Crew, we should—”

  “What are you doing?” Mayor Taira’s voice rang through the hall. “We’re supposed to be protecting our town, not toying with paper crafts like children.”

  Ami hid her parchment in the folds of her blanket. A shopkeeper gathered her grandchildren to her side. One of Davy’s sailor friends palmed his parchment, making it disappear up his sleeve. The townsfolk dropped their heads, like they had been caught in a daydream.

  Soma’s friends leered at me. Rin frowned, stepping forward, the tilt of her head showing that they would have to go through her first if they were going to try anything.

  “Yes, they’re right,” I said slowly, and Rin—and everyone else in the hall—turned to me in surprise. “We’re folding paper.”

  The group of pirates smirked, preening under the guise of being right. I narrowed my eyes at them.

  But I wasn’t the same girl as when they’d called me a seaweed witch, or when they’d stopped by my counter to laugh at me.

  This time, I was determined to win.

  “However, I’ve learned a lot in my almost-one-moon in Auteri.” I curled my fingers around my wand. “I’ve learned that sometimes it takes time to make friends, but those friendships”—I glanced at Charlotte and Davy—“feel stronger than anything I’ve found in the realm. I’ve learned that magic takes so many forms, and sometimes”—I turned to look at Rin and then Hikaru and the orphanage kids—“spells are best when I work alongside the entire town.”

  “And?” Mayor Taira asked, impatiently tapping her foot against the cold stone.

  I put my wand back in my pocket and pulled the carefully folded turtle out. “And maybe paper, which wouldn’t ordinarily stand up to rain, might have a chance—as long as there’s a witch like me around.”

  The sneers on the pirates
’ faces froze. From the back, Soma sucked in a huge breath, his scar paling.

  They could try to get me in trouble. To make fun of me, to try intercepting my messages. But I was stronger than their cruel words.

  And I was no longer going to fall for their tricks.

  I looked beyond them, at the mayor, and swept into a deep bow. “Mayor Taira, I have a plan to help Auteri.”

  She steepled her hands and stared. “I thought you were out of magic.”

  At her side, Princess Stella’s fiery brown eyes studied me, her face indiscernible.

  “I may have only a pinch of magic.” I swallowed. “But… well… that might be enough.”

  I explained our idea to Mayor Taira and Princess Stella. I showed her the waterproof turtle and tapped it with my wand. “Stand—”

  “That’s ridiculous,” one of the pirates protested, and his friends nodded. “That girl’s basically magicless, she’s—”

  “Let her speak,” said a voice from the back, and everyone spun on their heels to stare at Soma.

  He crossed his arms. “If she’s going to save the town, that means us, too. Because we’re stuck here just as much as her or anyone else in Auteri.” From across the hall, Soma’s eyes burned with fear, with worry, but most of all, with hope.

  Rin’s words echoed in my mind: All Soma wanted was to take care of the people who depended on him.

  At my side, Davy’s jaw dropped. I couldn’t speak, either, but only for a moment. Because I—and the town—didn’t have any time to lose.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed, and he jerked his head in the slightest of nods as the rest of the pirates continued to stare at him in shock. Then I raised my voice. “This is more than just paper.”

  Magic prickled at my fingertips. I snapped my wand and chanted, “Stand up, stand tall, stay strong and protect all.”

  The crowd gasped as the turtle inflated up to the ceiling, towering over us.

  “I’ll make these shields bigger, too.” Now it was my turn to cross my arms, as if daring the pirates to say another word. From behind them, Soma cracked a tiny smile.

  “Go on.” Davy nudged me and handed over a tin mug filled with water. “Show them what you’ve got, Eva.”

  I turned to Mayor Taira. “And they’ll hold up to the rain. Look.” I tipped the mug over the waterproofed paper. Mayor Taira narrowed her eyes as droplets slid off the shell.

  “Paper.” She stared flatly. “We’re going to entrust the fate of our town to a pile of paper.”

  “Paper can fight water,” I said. “This is a shield for Auteri.”

  She shook her head dismissively. “I won’t let you endanger the lives of our townspeople for this foolish plan.”

  “Mother—Mayor Taira, we don’t have any other options,” Rin said. “This is our only chance at saving Auteri.”

  “Please,” I said. “I’ll leave this town afterward and never bother you again. I won’t ask you to sign my Novice Witch application. Anything you want. Please let me try to help Auteri, one last time.”

  Mayor Taira raised her chin, and I stiffened my shoulders, staying steady even as I wanted to sink into the ground. If she turned me down now, I wouldn’t be able to do anything to help Auteri. “The risk—”

  Then someone stepped next to me. It was Rin, silently staring at her mother, hands clasped in front of her, with a small paper shield in her hand.

  Around me, the townspeople held up their tiny paper shields.

  Ami, Trixie, Trina… Hikaru, the kids from the orphanage… the shopkeepers from all around town…

  At the back of the hall, Soma lifted up a shield, and the rest of his crew scrambled to grab the tiny folded pieces of paper.

  From next to me, Davy, even Charlotte…

  And from the mayor’s side, Princess Stella turned to Mayor Taira, too.

  We—me, Princess Stella, Rin, Charlotte, Davy, and all the people of Auteri—gazed at Mayor Taira.

  The mayor closed her eyes briefly, and in that second I realized how worried she was, how she had done her best to take care of the people of Auteri with all of her heart and will.

  She cleared her throat. “Our people are the most important part of Auteri. We can build new buildings and repave roads. But our people are irreplaceable. If the people of Auteri believe in Eva, well”—she turned to Rin and picked up the tiny paper shield from her hand—“I will believe in Eva, too.”

  The townspeople roared, shaking the walls more than the storm. “Eva! Eva! Eva!”

  A shout echoed through the cheers. Soma pushed his way to me, with Rin watchfully tailing him. When he got to my side, the boy glanced down, staring at the floor as if it was mesmerizing, and then finally coughed out, “You’re… I… I believe in you, too. I’m sorry for everything, before. I never met anyone like you from the Council. The whole town—the whole realm is lucky to have a witch like you.”

  I felt like I was flying.

  Charlotte and Davy’s faces gleamed.

  “Let’s go,” Davy whooped, racing out the front door. Charlotte and I scrambled after him.

  I could hear Rin cheering us on from behind. “Go on, Char, Davy! We believe in you, Eva!”

  CHAPTER 27

  FLYING FREE

  We dashed through the torrential rain up the path to my cottage, passing dusklight flowers crushed in the storm. We still needed the waterproofing potion. Davy clutched the burlap bag to his chest to keep it dry, and I carried my broom with me. Even if it was acting up, I needed my broomstick for my plan.

  We ducked inside. My bed was a mess, a halo of blankets and my lumpy pillow, with Ember nestled in the middle, shivering as rain and wind lashed at the walls.

  He squeaked and jumped off the bed, circling around me. I knelt down and he leaped into my arms.

  I buried my face in his warm fur. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  Ember made a content half-growling noise that made me smile. I looked up at Charlotte and Davy. “I have to take him to the town hall. I can’t leave him here.”

  Davy rubbed his head, his curls splaying all over as he thought quickly. “I have to make sure my father is safe. Char and I will take Ember, too.”

  I grabbed the vial of sticky potion and tucked it into my pocket. Then I scooped up the flamefox jar and handed it to him.

  “What’re you doing?” Davy yelped. Then his face filled with wonder as he turned the jar around.

  Charlotte brushed her fingers against the glass. “It’s not hot. But it’s so bright.”

  “Just don’t open the jar,” I warned. “Use it to light your way.”

  Then I lifted up the frying pan full of waterproofing potion. “Can you open up the bag?”

  Charlotte looked at the pan strangely. “Where’s your cauldron?”

  “Witches don’t use cauldrons. That’s a myth. I simply need a vessel. After all, I don’t have warts or a crooked nose, do I?”

  Charlotte ran her eyes over my face, and I glared at her.

  “That was a joke.”

  Davy and Charlotte held the burlap bag open as I tipped the pan and drizzled the shimmering, opalescent liquid over the shields. We shook the bag, coating the thread and each shield. The bag pulsed a brilliant blue.

  “You did it!” Davy said.

  But we all stared out the window, and even Davy looked pale under his tanned skin. “There’s still so much to do.”

  “Let’s go.” I grabbed my troublemaker broom—it seemed to try to tug out of my grip—and we tumbled out the door. The rain poured down in buckets, thunder shook the sky, and jagged lightning streaked through the black clouds.

  Davy gulped. He reached down to brush Ember’s head. “Ready to run fast, buddy?”

  “Please watch over him. I don’t want him to slip out.” Especially if I can’t make it back.

  Charlotte’s hand snaked out and tugged the sleeve of my shirt. “Wait—what’s your plan?”

  “I’m going to seal one end of the chain to the far side of the cliffs
,” I said. Maybe that sticky potion would come in handy, after all. “And then I’ll fly the chain across the bay, enchanting the shields to grow and strengthen.” For as long as my magic lasts.

  “Alone?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I’m Auteri’s one and only witch, after all.” My face felt like it had become colder than rainwater.

  I mounted my broom slowly. Under my breath, I begged for the broom to fly.

  Even if I flew just this once, even if I never flew again, I would be fine as long as I could fly far enough to help Auteri.

  Davy leaned over to examine the broomstick. “Afterward, you have to show me how this works.”

  “After? Of course.” My voice cracked. If there’s an after.

  I tensed my legs and pushed off. My nails dug into the rain-slicked wood. “Please let me stay on,” I whispered. The broomstick jumped as if it could hear me but wasn’t quite interested in listening. “Please.”

  I went higher, clutching the burlap bag with one hand and the broom in the other. From below, Ember whimpered nervously, but then a gust of wind shoved me.

  The broomstick kicked furiously. “No, please, no.”

  My insides rattled as it yanked me from side to side. My hands slipped just as it sharply lurched to the right. I screamed as I tumbled out of the air, straight down toward the cliff.

  “Eva!” Charlotte shrieked.

  I desperately tried to think of a simple, quick spell that could help me, and it came to mind when I was a hairsbreadth from crashing into Charlotte. “Slow down, sky-fall!”

  I decelerated enough for Charlotte to grab my arms, and Davy lunged for the bag of shields. The vial of sticky potion tumbled out of my pocket, and Ember leaped to catch it. Charlotte stumbled under my weight, dragging me away from the edge of the cliff. We sank to the ground; my legs were too weak to stand. My whole body trembled.

  “A-are you okay, Eva?” Davy clutched the burlap bag in his shaking hands. His face was paler than the clouds. “You… you fell so fast. I couldn’t do anything.”

  “I’m okay.” I breathed out slowly. Charlotte and I untangled from each other, and I sat on the muddy ground, shivering.