Any Witch Way

by Annastaysia Savage

  “Is your name Gur?” Sadie asked.

  The large troll nodded his head and smiled at Sadie, revealing only two teeth in his mouth that were the size of washing machine lids.

  Well, I guess he’s not going to kill me, she thought. That’s a relief.

  She handed the cookies to Gur and watched as he devoured them without even unwrapping the parcel paper they came in. With regret, she wished she had kept one for herself as her belly began its rumbling once again.

  “We try not to give him too many. There’s nothing harder to manage than a troll with a sugar high,” said a voice behind her.

  Sadie turned to see a girl, somewhere between the ages of fourteen and sixteen, smiling down at her. She was wearing long purple robes and had her blonde hair in one long braid that hung over her shoulder.

  “Gur makes a great watchdog, but forgets everything when there are Forgur cookies around,” the girl said as she stuck out a hand to help Sadie up. “And the energy he gets…I’ll bet if we could find a human-sized gerbil wheel, he could generate enough electricity to power all of Cranberry Grove. If only the humans knew what we could do for them….”

  Taking her hand, Sadie stood, leaving her backpack where it lay.

  “You’re gonna need that magik bag of yours,” the girl said extending her hand again. “I’m Hannah.”

  Sadie shook the girl’s hand and rubbed her temples with the other one. She was starting not to like being so confused all the time, but she guessed it beat sitting in a dank basement chained to a wall, starving, and not knowing if and when you were to die.

  “Why am I in the middle of Cranberry Grove cemetery? How did I get here? Where’s Elgarbam? I can’t just leave him chained up to ….”

  “Whoa, slow down, first things first,” said Hannah. “We need to get you inside to Ms. Cabot. She has some questions she needs to ask you. And I’m sorry if I’m a bit cranky; that spell took lots out of me. I’m sooooo tired.”

  Grabbing her backpack off the ground, Sadie ran to catch up with Hannah who took off at break-neck speed for someone who claimed to be so tired. They were headed towards the large Victorian house that everyone in Cranberry Grove knew to be the cemetery owner’s home and offices.

  Everyone also knew the owner to be somewhat mysterious, only being seen at night or if someone died and needed tending to. Instead of asking so many questions, as she usually did, Sadie kept quiet. They walked the path that wound out of the cemetery and up the hill toward the house. The house itself overlooked the graveyard and the town as it sat on the highest hill in the county.

  Sadie could see a bird’s eyes view of everything from Main Street and its eclectic collection of shops and houses to the side streets where most people lived. She could see the four roads leading out of town, like a dirt drawn compass—to the woods, lake, and swamp. She even saw Miller’s Pond. Her eyes went back to the roads again, for they were full of magikal creatures, all of them coming into town. Sadie recognized one of the roads—it being the very same road that only a few days ago she and a centaur named Zeno took to Tara’s house.

  She smiled to herself at the thought of her friend Zeno and then frowned remembering how she left Tara’s. She pictured Tara trapped in that bubble with the horrible goblin and shuddered. She really hoped she wasn’t still stuck there.

  “You look deep in thought. No doubt you’re wondering what you’re doing here. Before you hear any rumors, it was I that transported you. I’m spending my last year of training here at the Society’s offices in Cranberry Grove. I’m just glad this transporting spell wasn’t being graded,” said Hannah as they climbed the steps to the house. “I can tell you this, though, it took every last bit of energy I had. So now, thanks to you, I won’t be able to do any really good magik for about three days.”

  “So it was you who made me feel like I was being pulled apart in every direction,” Sadie replied.

  “It wasn’t that bad, was it? And you’re alright; still have all your parts, don’t you?”

  Sadie gave herself the once over, checking all her bits and pieces to make sure she didn’t lose any in Hannah’s botched transporting spell. As they climbed the steps, Sadie noticed that Gur had taken up a position at the giant wrought iron gates that gave entrance into the graveyard. He was nodding and greeting creatures as they entered. She briefly wondered how many people in town would travel thirty miles to the next town to be buried if they knew that a giant troll guarded the gates.

  Crazy Mary would be the only person to…but her thought was interrupted at the sight of Crazy Mary wandering among the old tombstones on the east side of the cemetery.

  As Hannah put her hand on the huge doorknob to let them inside, Sadie finally couldn’t contain herself anymore and asked a question. “What is Crazy Mary doing here?”

  “Who? Crazy Mary? Oooohhhh, you mean Mary Cabot, the Wonky One—Ms. Cabot’s poor, unfortunate sister. She’s just waiting to see her sister which may take a while now that you’re here.” Hannah winked at Sadie as they went inside.

  Sadie decided not to ask any more questions about Crazy Mary, not until she knew what was really going on. Plus, she had also decided, right then and there, that she wasn’t sure if she liked this girl Hannah. Her attitude was bit too smug.

  They entered into a large, formal parlor lined with ferns on plant stands and comfortable chairs for waiting. There was a row of hooks on one wall that held people’s coats and, on the other wall, horizontal hooks for, apparently, broomsticks. Two broomsticks were being supported there along with one very old, very used pointy hat. It was hung on the same rungs as a very taped up, very beaten up broomstick. The other broomstick looked as though it had just come right out of the box, if indeed, that’s how broomsticks came.

  “Oh, good, you’re here,” said a voice.

  It was coming from the tall, thin old woman Sadie recognized from the bookstore. She was one of the three ash-covered women that had been there that night. The night all hell broke loose in her life. Sadie tensed a little. But, Sadie also remembered her from her birthday party at Tara’s where everyone had been so kind to her. So she relaxed again.

  “Now tell me, Sadie, however did you manage to get into such a horrible situation? We equipped you with some of the best magikal objects Society money could buy—along with leaving you in the hands of the very capable Tara from the Isle.”

  No Tears Left

  Sadie stood with her jaw slack, twisting her hair between her fingers. As her eyes scanned the so-called funeral parlor, she realized just how much the outside belied what was inside. It showed nothing to the human world to say it was chock full of magikal beings.

  This must have one heck of a glamour on it.

  An image of the townspeople being greeted by a huge troll at the gate and their reaction had Sadie stifling a giggle. Sadie didn’t know if it was from all she had been through in the last week, if it was from lack of good sleep, or if it was hunger, but she felt completely giddy.

  “I don’t know what you think is so funny, witchling. We’ve had four attacks in as many days and lost lots of good people in the process. Come into my office and maybe you can explain your impudence,” said the tall, thin woman. Sadie noticed that all the ash and cobwebs were gone from her clothes and she looked much different than she had on Halloween night. The old woman’s lips were pursed tightly. There were lines on her forehead, and there was a heavy aura hanging around her. She appeared to be a very powerful person. As a matter of fact, the old woman seemed downright scary.

  “Yes, sorry, I just….”

  “Shhhhh.” The old woman hushed her and took her firmly by the shoulder. “We’ll talk inside,” she said as she led Sadie to a room at the furthest end of the entry hall.

  Walking down the long corridor, Sadie thought of Tara’s little-big cottage. This funeral parlor-come-magikal beings meeting place seemed bigger than it should rightly be from the outside.

  The same magik must apply here.

  It was h
eaving with what Sadie thought to be décor from the Middle Ages. If anything, it looked as though they were inside a castle. When they reached the end of the hallway, they entered a room to the left. A huge, carved wooden chair stood behind the very large matching desk the old woman was heading towards. She motioned for Sadie to take the seat opposite. As Sadie started to sit, she could have sworn the face on her carved wood chair winked at her. Slowly, she sat and faced the imposing desk and old woman.

  “Well, Sadie. Sorry to have taken such an angry tone with you out in the hall, but there are so many people and creatures around; we don’t know who to trust so I just…well, I have to keep up appearances,” she stated with a smile.

  Clearing her throat, Sadie responded with, “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You’ve obviously been through much in the last week since you’ve become a witchling. I can’t think of another put to the test as you have been. I can see you’ve fared well, despite having to be rescued from who knows where. Very impressive for such a young witchling incapable of any real power. I can only imagine what you’ll accomplish once you completely turn.” She cleared her throat and continued. “Let’s start from the beginning, and we’ll see where we go from here…depending on your answers.”

  Sadie felt nervous. It wasn’t the nervous, strange feeling she got when something was about to happen. It was more like the nervousness she felt when she was in trouble. She fidgeted in her chair.

  Is it hot in here?

  She wrung her hands and then wiped them on the upholstered arms of the chair before beginning to speak.

  “Pardon me, lady, but would thou please stop tormenting the young witchling with thine power. She’s noticeably leaking on my hand-stitched embroidery.”

  Sadie froze. She looked around to see where this accusing voice was coming from and realized it was the very chair in which she was sitting. Not wanting to move for fear of reprimand, she remained motionless.

  “Arthur, please do not quibble with me over such a trivial and minute detail. There are more important issues to discuss at the moment. We’ve much to talk about, Sadie and I. I’ll speak with you later regarding your latest demand on my attentions. We both know this is more about that furniture polish the brownies used and less about Sadie’s sweat. For right now, please, be quiet,” said the woman.

  “Now, Sadie, let me properly introduce myself. I am Ms. Moriganna Cabot; you may call me Ms. Cabot. I am from a long line of witches from the northern lands—Lammia from Scandinavia, of Viking decent, though most recently the British Isles. My family has survived longer than I dare try to comprehend. I’m also the head of the Guild of Magikal Beings. Along with Mrs. Teak and Miss Bruja, we run this show both here and in our realm of being. We aim to keep all witches, witchlings, and magikal beings alive and prosperous, despite the continuing efforts of the Syndicate to eradicate all of us from existence.”

  “Did you say Lammia? That’s what Crazy Mary called me,” said Sadie.

  Ms. Cabot laughed. “I see you’ve no doubt met and know my sister.”

  “I’ve not really met her. I’ve always steered clear of Crazy Mary; I….” Sadie didn’t finish. She put her head down as her cheeks grew warmer. She wondered if it were an offense to call Ms. Cabot’s sister “crazy” to her face.

  “It’s okay, dear; out there in the human world, I’m sure she does seem a bit ‘crazy.’ Besides, we’ve known since her birth that something was…different about her,” Ms. Cabot said. “She is a bit ‘touched’ but then again, if she chooses to live as a wild creature on the streets…who am I to argue? Besides, her visions are getting a bit out of hand. Why just two weeks ago she started making insane accusations about some of our best supporters.”

  As she finished her sentence, the door behind Sadie slammed shut. Sadie, not wanting to move for fear of disturbing Arthur the Chair, sat deathly still, facing forward, and just about holding her breath.

  “Ah, Miss Bruja, Mrs. Teak, you’ve made it just in time,” said Ms. Cabot. She motioned for the two women to come into the room. Sadie could hear skirts rustling as they approached and smelled a strange combination of sweet, hot tea and chili peppers.

  Sadie slowly turned just her face so she could see the two women as they came into view. Mrs. Teak was her short and chubby self.

  Maybe she could use the sweater she gave me?

  She was wringing her hands and had one of her arms in a cast of some sorts. Miss Bruja was strikingly beautiful as Sadie had remembered and stood next to the portly woman with an arm around her shoulder. The pair looked oddly disparate, yet remarkably similar—Mrs. Teak so round and motherly and Miss Bruja so supermodel perfect. Miss Bruja’s tight black clothing left nothing to the imagination; she was every human man’s dream. Mrs. Teak’s rustling skirts and apron made her look the perfect matronly mother. They nodded at Sadie and then Ms. Cabot.

  “I see your arm is healing, Mrs. Teak. Miss Bruja, you look…in good health…as usual. Well, where were we? Oh, yes, that’s right. Sadie was about to tell us how she got into such a fine mess. It’s a good thing we had a personal item of hers so we could whisk her back here when the fairies reported her capture to us. I think we ought to find out exactly what happened though. Sadie, what do you say?”

  Sadie thought for a moment over everything that had transpired since the day of her birthday. She had never been on such a crazy misadventure, never been so out of her element. Heck, she had never been outside of Pennsylvania and had only lived in one other town besides Cranberry Grove, and that was only for a very short time. She rubbed her eyes. It seemed too unreal, too fantastical to be her life, but like it or lump it, it was hers now.

  I’ll never again have to worry about where I’m going to sit in the cafeteria, she thought with chagrin; never have to worry about being so different now.

  Somehow, it didn’t seem to bother her so much anymore and, without realizing it, Sadie was starting to come into her own. She sat up straight, looked directly at Ms. Cabot, and began to speak.

  Sadie told the three women of all that happened at Tara’s the night of the impromptu birthday party. She told them of Tara in the bubble with the goblin creature. She told them of Alroy being subdued by other goblins. She told them of running, of the elemental, and of Elgarbam and Whistle. She told them of David, the man-vultures, and of being held captive. She also told them of the energy stealing imps. Her eyes began to fill with tears as she explained what Elgarbam had said happened to Whistle. She told Ms. Cabot everything with great detail, leaving out the fact that she knew her mother was still alive though she hadn’t really ‘heard’ her lately.

  She felt this was not a time to have the entire magikal world thinking she was crazy, as the human world did. She completed her report to the old woman with how the fairies had fallen from the sky in their attempt to rescue her. When she had finished, Arthur, the chair, stifled a sob and handed her a handkerchief.

  Where does a chair keep a handkerchief?

  Wiping her eyes, she sniffled, blew her nose, and cleared her throat.

  “I just wish I could have done something. I mean, what good is all this power if you can’t use it to help someone?”

  Sadie sobbed a little more thinking of Whistle and of Elgarbam still chained up and most likely being tortured as they spoke.

  Miss Bruja softly laughed.

  “Sadie, love, you don’t have all your power yet so there was nothing you could do. Besides, little señorita, you didn’t know who you were fighting or why, what could you, what could you have possibly done?” Miss Bruja uttered, her Spanish accent thick.

  “I know enough. Elgarbam and Whistle filled me in….” Sadie’s voice choked.

  She really did love those little guys and was deeply sad that her first two real live friends were now either dead or close to it. She also felt very responsible for the fairies’ deaths as well.

  “It’s okay to be sad, Sadie, but there is a time and a place for everything. You’ve no doubt dealt with sadness befo
re, when your mom died, so get a handle on it. Mourn your friends later. Right now, we’re in the midst of a great battle that may change things forever,” Ms. Cabot said. “What you said about Tara and a bubble containing her and a goblin…we found no such thing when we went to her cottage. Not to mention, I’ve never heard of such a thing. You must have hallucinated some of this as your mind is trying to adjust to all that you’ve seen.

  “Plus, you’ve been hit with several different potions. And who knows what those imps gave to you. Alroy, he was gone as well. No signs of him, a struggle or anything. We’ve got tracers out on the magik used there so we should have some answers soon.”

  “What ‘bout the Ataraxia Heart? We must find it immediately, or I’ll not ‘ave me tea in peace and quiet ‘gain, Moriganna,” said Mrs. Teak.

  The room became silent. All eyes were on Sadie. She began to feel a little uncomfortable and shifted in her chair, kicking a leg. Arthur grunted. Sadie stiffened.

  “Sadie, I want you to think really hard about the question I’m going to ask you. Its importance is extreme. Do you remember where the heart is? Where did your mother hide it?” asked Ms. Cabot.

  Genuinely confused, Sadie replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She searched her mind and could not recollect her mother ever giving her such a thing as the Ataraxia Heart. She couldn’t even imagine her mother owning such an object. It sounded so…intense. Sadie remembered her mother to be a nervous, cautious person with little personal effects about the house.

  “My mother and I never spoke of…she never told me she was a witch.” Heck, I didn’t even know I was a witch ‘til about a week ago.

  The room was as silent as the air before a tornado. Mrs. Teak picked at the strands of plaster and string on her black cast. Miss Bruja adjusted and wiggled in her very short skirt. Arthur cleared his throat quite loudly, and Ms. Cabot hung her head as her fists clenched on top of the desk.

  “Sadie, I don’t think you realize how important this is. I know all of this,” she spread her arms to encompass the room, “is a quite much to accept, being a newly turned witchling, accepting who you really are, the magikal world, all it’s extraordinary creatures, and well, just about everything. But this heart, the Ataraxia Heart, can save us from the Syndicate.”