Eva Evergreen, Semi-Magical Witch

by Julie Abe

  Ember jumped into my arms, his small body warming me. He gently deposited the vial in my lap. He quivered, too.

  “Evalithimus.” Charlotte glared at me. “You’d better explain what just happened.”

  “I, uh, didn’t quite finish fixing up my broom.”

  “What d’you mean?” Her eyes widened. “I thought all witches could fly from birth or something.”

  “Apprentices get a magical broom from their mentors as a final gift. I know how to fly a little bit, so this should’ve been just a matter of practicing… until I left it out and Ember tore it all up, including the magical bristles.”

  Ember had the grace to look a little ashamed.

  I showed her the brush tip. “See, here’re the ones I melded with Ember’s fur and his first leash. Rin gave me her bottle-green handkerchief, and I used a bit of a cloth from my parents to create the silvery ones. It’s still a few short and… magical bristles can’t be replaced with ordinary brush.”

  “So you thought you would try flying anyway?”

  “A bumpy ride was the least of my worries.” I glanced out at the thick clouds, ominously creeping toward the gap in the cliffs. “We need to help Auteri.”

  Davy rummaged in his pocket and extracted a watchband. “How about this?”

  “For me?” My heart warmed, even as I shivered from the cold.

  He nodded. “It’s one of my favorite wristbands, the first model I ever made. That way, at least part of me will go on every adventure with you.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  Charlotte and Davy exchanged a glance, and then he held up the steadily glowing glass jar. “After I check on my father, I’ll go to the other end of the bay, so you know where to fly.”

  I protested. “It’s too dangerous—”

  “And it isn’t for you?” Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “The mist is too thick. You won’t be able to see where you’re going.”

  “Only if you’ll turn back if it gets too dangerous, okay?” I met Davy’s eyes.

  He pressed his lips together. Finally, he inclined his head in a nod. “Only if.”

  Then Charlotte pulled her blue ribbon loose, and her thick waves tumbled down around her shoulders. She held out the strip of silk. “Here.”

  “But that’s your ribbon. I’ve never seen you without it.”

  “And that’s why it’ll work. It has to be something that really matters, right? From a friend?”

  “We’re friends?” I echoed.

  “I would’ve let you fall if I didn’t care,” she muttered, her ears turning pink at the tips. “But there’s one condition.” She stared straight at me and a tingle ran down my spine. “Take me with you.”

  Davy started. “Charlotte, you just saw Eva fall off her broom—”

  Her gray eyes were full of something I’d only seen flickers of before… almost like trust. “I know I’ve been acting rotten ever since you came here. Still, I’m not scared of heights or tumbling off your broomstick.”

  I opened my mouth. “But—”

  “I’m more scared of us failing.” Her words seemed to meld with the wind and rain, prickling my skin. “Auteri is going to go underwater without your magic—and I’ll do anything to help you. If I hold on to the shields, you can focus on flying through the storm.” She pressed the ribbon into my hand. “Take it, please.”

  I chanted a spell to bind my last bits of bristle to Davy’s wristband and Charlotte’s ribbon. Their gifts stuck fast, faster than any of the other times I had tried to spell together the bristles.

  I charmed the bristles on and, finally, it looked like a real witch’s broomstick. But that spell had taken its toll on me—a shudder ran over my skin as magic drained from my blood.

  I clambered on, patting the potion in my pocket to check on it.

  “Wait.” Charlotte untied her belt, heavy with pouches, and lashed it around my waist. She plucked the vial and slipped it into the smallest pouch, tying it tightly shut. “There. Now you can focus on flying.”

  I pushed up until my feet barely grazed the ground. I hovered and hovered and it twitched—but it didn’t throw me off. “It’s… it’s working.” I whispered under my breath, “Thank you, Fiery Phoenix.”

  And I could’ve sworn the broom shook its bristles at me in response.

  Charlotte grinned. “Not to say I told you so and all, but… don’t doubt us and don’t doubt yourself, Eva.”

  Davy clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Fly fast. This rain is bad enough, and it won’t be long before the real typhoon rolls in.”

  He called for Ember to join him. Ember took one step forward and then circled back, his eyes glued to me.

  “Go on, follow him, Ember.” I leaned down and cupped his muzzle. “I’ll be back for you, I promise.”

  “C’mon, let’s see who’s faster, you ol’ flamefox!” Davy and Ember sprinted down the cliff, Davy shining the flamefox jar to light their way through the storm.

  Charlotte slid onto the broom behind me, one hand circling around my waist and her other hand holding tight to the shields. “Go on,” she said. The determination in her voice echoed the feeling pounding through my heart, burning in my blood. “Let’s fly, witch-girl.”

  CHAPTER 28

  LOOKING FOR LIGHT

  The wind battered my skin as we lifted off, but I breathed a sigh of relief—the broom stayed steady. Figures that it would only work for what might be my very last ride.

  “Hold on,” I shouted over the wind, and Charlotte tightened her grip around my waist. We soared straight down the side of the cliff, hugging the rocks, then I pulled the broomstick up to hover above the roaring waves. Davy and Ember were two dots sprinting down the side of the cliff.

  Down by the docks, I saw Yuri and Edmund straining to pull Davy’s father away from the waves. He was yanking against their grip and trying to walk closer to the edge of the docks. The water frothed at their feet as it spilled over the ground. I swallowed and turned to look out at the bay that we would have to cross.

  Through the downpour, I couldn’t even see the entrance to the bay. I shouted over my shoulder at Charlotte. “Hang on!”

  We propelled forward in a burst of speed and the wind screamed in my ears. We dodged the crashing waves. Still, our clothes dripped from the rain and spray of the salty seawater.

  About halfway over, a swell of wind screamed in my ears, shoving my broom back. Charlotte’s grip on my waist anchored me as I maneuvered the broom through the gust. I stared down at the choppy waves a long way below us and shuddered. I didn’t want to fall.

  “There it is!” Charlotte shouted, pointing straight ahead. The cliff loomed in front of us, a dark outline in the mist.

  Finally, we touched down on one of the paths that crisscrossed along the side of the rocks, and Charlotte slid off the end of my broom. We were on one of the ledges on the inside of the bay, so we hurried to the mostly dry shelter of an overhang, the waves roaring just below us.

  Across the water, the other side was shrouded in waves and mist, and we pressed against the cliff, breathing hard, peering for a sign of the flare. Without Davy’s light, I wouldn’t know if I was heading toward the open sea or to the other side. But he wasn’t in place yet. The rain pounded down, and the gusts tore at my skin, growing stronger and stronger.

  CHAPTER 29

  THE MEANING OF MAGIC

  Look!” Charlotte cried, pointing. Bright orange-red light flickered in the thick fog and mist. Davy was waiting for me. I breathed out in relief.

  “I’m going to fly over.” The wind yanked away my voice, howling in our faces. We had to shout into each other’s ears to be heard.

  She huddled next to me, shivering. Her hair was plastered to her skin, and her gray eyes were as dark as the churning waves. “But the wind’s getting worse.”

  I bit down on my lip.

  Charlotte grabbed my hand. “Eva, please, don’t look like that. It’s not because I don’t believe in you or our plan. I’m… I�
�m scared for you, Eva.”

  She squeezed my hand and her warmth brought some feeling back to my fingertips. Charlotte helped me hold the end of the thread to the rocks. I pulled the tube of slime out of my pouch and poured out half the potion.

  It fizzled and hardened instantly in the rain, sealing the thread to the cliff. I corked the vial and slipped it back into its pouch.

  “There. Now you can head back to the town hall.”

  Charlotte shook her head grimly. “I’ll wait here till you’re done, Eva.”

  “It’s not safe. You should go back.”

  “It’s not any safer for you, is it?” she said. “At least if I’m here, I’ll walk with you back to the town hall—because if it’s like last time with the boat, you’re going to need some help.”

  “I’ll be back soon, then.”

  If I make it back.

  I swallowed, casting a look out at the stormy sea. There was only one place to go.

  Winding the other side of the chain around my hand, I mounted my broomstick. There was a break in the wind, and I pushed the broomstick forward to surge toward Davy. The chain of shields fluttered behind me, unfurling.

  “Fly strong, Eva!” Charlotte’s shout barely carried over the winds.

  The shields looked small and pathetic, like specks of dust against the roaring sea.

  Freezing wind pushed me into the waves below. The gusts were growing fiercer—the Culling was heading our way. And I was still so far from Davy.

  A wave roared at my side and I screamed. I plunged into the tunnel of crashing water. The salt spray burned my eyes, and I barely shot out in time. The wave collapsed behind me.

  The flare flickered brighter—I was closer. I dove around another wave, but I wasn’t flying fast enough. A wall of water crashed into me, shoving me underwater as I gasped for air. The string cut into my palm, yet I couldn’t let it or the broom go.

  Water burned in my lungs as I swam up to the surface. I swiped the water from my face, looking around for the flare. The gray-black waves rose around me, blocking my vision. My heart ricocheted. The sea battered me as I spun left and right, desperate to see Davy’s flame.

  Where was the flare? Where was Davy?

  When I saw it glowing to my right, I nearly cried out in relief. I mounted my broom and shot out of the water and into the piercingly cold rain.

  I looped over and around and through crashing waves, pushing closer toward Davy’s light. It flickered, just out of reach.

  Suddenly, the tall cliff appeared through the mists, and I barely braked in time to stop from slamming into the rocks. I tumbled down, into the waves, and threw my hand out to scrape my nails at a ledge.

  Davy’s hand grasped my wrist and dragged me out of the water before the tide pulled me away. My drenched clothes stuck to my skin and my boots sloshed.

  I lay out on the ledge, soaking wet and coughing up seawater, my chest heaving. Davy knelt down and unraveled the thread from my hand. “I’ll hold it, Eva.”

  The chain stretched taut across the bay. It was barely long enough. He quickly wound the thread around his hand and held on tightly, wincing as it bit into his hand. “Do your magic.”

  I pulled myself onto my knees and swallowed, drawing out my wand and touching it to the chain. My magic stirred sluggishly.

  Davy leaned over, shaking my shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

  My magic was draining too fast, but I nodded. “Just needed to catch my breath. Stand up, stand tall, this shield will stay strong and protect all.”

  The parchment shield shivered and glowed a pale blue. It grew and grew, like a sapling shooting up toward the sky, until it rose to twice the height of the town hall.

  Davy yelped. He tried to hold on, but the wind picked up the shield like a kite and pulled him toward the water.

  I grabbed onto the thread with him, digging in my heels. Pressing the strand to the rock, I poured out the rest of the slime. It sizzled and hardened quickly.

  Still, the water pulled and tugged at the fluttering shields. I needed another spell, fast. A spell that would make the shield stay in place…

  “Stay here, stay near. Auteri is your home, and there’s no need to roam.”

  The shield creaked and settled down, pressing against the rock. Waves gushed around the paper, but it locked into the cliff and all the way to the bottom of the bay.

  “One shield done.” Staying on the ledge as long as I could, I chanted the spells and pointed my wand out at the shields. Davy cheered as each shield grew and locked into place with the others. Too soon, the shields were out of my reach.

  The other side of the bay was hidden by the heavy rain and turbulent waves. We were separated from Charlotte by hundreds of shields. “Wish me the best, Davy.”

  Davy nodded. “Do what you can, Eva. Just come back to us.”

  The rest was all up to me.

  I mounted my broomstick and jetted over the water, hiding from the waves behind the gigantic shields as I cast my spells.

  My magic was trickling away so quickly.

  Spots of darkness spun around me, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. I focused on the bright blue thread that led to Charlotte.

  One shield, two. Three shields, four.

  My magic flickered.

  A gust shoved me into the closest giant shield, and I ricocheted off, spinning dizzyingly, and my hands slipped on my broom.

  I leaned down, hugging the wood, and looked around. I couldn’t see the thread or the shields.

  I was lost in the thick fog.

  CHAPTER 30

  A FLICKER OF LIGHT

  Rain poured on me as I turned and turned, trying to catch sight of the shields, the cliffs—anything. The wind picked up, shrieking in my ears like screams of the wounded and dying.

  No, no, the storm howled, forming into humanlike voices. You can’t make it, you nothing-of-a-girl, you fake witch.

  You are nothing.

  The murky mists surrounded me, pressing the breath out of my lungs. Where was the coast? Was Charlotte in front of me or behind me?

  I couldn’t fly anywhere. If I went the wrong way, I might end up in the middle of the sea, far from the seven realms.

  If I cast my compass spell—the words were on the tip of my tongue—I knew I wouldn’t have enough magic for the rest of the shields. I might not even have enough energy to fly back. I was already bone-cold from the magic’s drain.

  A sob racked my chest. I had failed.

  My broom spiraled downward, toward the choppy waters.

  The town doesn’t need a witch like you, the voices in the storm shrieked. You are useless. You are unneeded.

  If I drifted into a deep sleep… If I slipped into the dark waters…

  No one will remember you when you’re gone.

  Through the darkness, a bright red-gold light flickered faintly.

  A long, mournful wail carried over the wind, stabbing me deeper than the ice-cold rain.

  It—it couldn’t be—

  Like an answering call, light glowed behind me, from the brush of my broomstick. I stifled a cry with my trembling hand. The twigs that had been fused with Ember’s leash and fur glowed, radiating light that illuminated the churning waves below me—and the edge of the half-finished chain of shields.

  The faintest of shouts carried across the bay, guiding me forward. “Eva!” Charlotte’s voice cut through the rain and thundering waves. “Eva, where are you?”

  Ember echoed her words with a fierce shriek. How—how was my flamefox there? The wind stung my eyes. Knowing his stubborn streak, he’d likely broken out of the town hall the instant he knew I wasn’t going to be there, too. Ember—and Charlotte—were fighting alongside me, reminding me that I wasn’t alone.

  A gust pushed me back, trying to fill my ears with its haunting sounds, but with Ember’s howls and Charlotte’s words, I remembered why I would do anything—whether as a witch or magicless girl—to save Auteri.

  I saw Rin’s honey-brown
eyes crinkling at the corners as she invited me to stay in Auteri.

  I tasted sweet cloudberry popcorn from Trixie and Trina.

  I breathed in the scent of Yuri’s sandwiches, warm as the afternoon sun, carefully packed with her favorite ginger chews.

  I smelled the sweet dusklight buds that Ami tucked behind my ear, the petals soft against my skin.

  I recalled Davy’s squared shoulders, melting as his father reached out to him.

  I heard Ember’s sharp cry as he sprinted to me, out of Vaud’s grasp.

  I felt Charlotte’s arms around me, with her words sharp but her actions pure-hearted.

  I sensed the townspeople of Auteri standing with me, each holding out a shield to Mayor Taira.

  If these were my last spells ever, in my clumsy, semi-magical attempt to save Auteri—even if these enchantments drained me of every last drop of magic—I would make peace with being magicless.

  If I could do this last bit of good for Auteri, if I could save them, it would be worth all my magic.

  I propelled the broom toward the shields, fighting through the wind and soaring out of reach of the waves. My heart pounded against my ribs. I could fly. I had to make it.

  Finally, I reached the edge of the chain and stared down at the tiny shields waiting for my spells.

  Staring fiercely, I pointed my wand at the shield. “Stand up, stand tall, stay strong and protect all.”

  Chanting slowly, I inched my broom forward as the shields grew and latched into place. Wind shoved me around, and I trembled with shivers as I clung to my broom, but I kept flying onward, shield by shield, bit by bit, with Charlotte’s voice and Ember’s blazing light drawing me forward.

  Charlotte cried out, “Just a little more!”

  Ember howled, long and sharp.

  Charlotte and Ember were so close, beckoning me to the ground, just as a swell crested and slammed into the rocks. Seawater poured down on the overhang and they disappeared from sight. My hands nearly slipped off my broomstick. Please, no.