Little Witches (Schooled In Magic Book 21)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  She kept walking, reaching out with her senses. Magic flickered through the trees, hints of life and power without the sense of watching eyes she’d felt elsewhere. Birds flew overhead, insects buzzed through the air... she narrowed her eyes as she sensed a flicker of magic in the distance. They’d moved further than she’d thought, unless the witch was being chased by her would-be victim. Emily gritted her teeth. She knew people who’d consider it funny. But it wasn’t.

  The magic grew stronger as she walked into a clearing. A girl - Penelope - was on the other side, kissing a handsome young man. Emily had to admit he was handsome, but his eyes were glazed and he looked as if he wasn’t entirely aware of what he was doing. His pants were around his ankles... Penelope looked at Emily, yelped, and started to flee. It was too late. Emily had already recognized her.

  “Get back here,” she shouted, as Mitch turned to go after her and tripped over his pants. “Penelope, get back here!”

  Penelope kept running. Mitch scrambled to his feet, leaving his pants behind and started after her. Emily caught his shoulder and yanked him back. His muscles were firm, hard to the touch, but he seemed too dazed to really fight. He lolled against her, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth.

  “Let me go,” he said. His voice took on a soppy tone, like a parody of a male romantic lead. “I have to go to her.”

  “She’s enchanted you,” Emily snapped. She tried, desperately, to parse out the spell so she could counter it. “Hold still...”

  “She’s my goddess,” Mitch said. A terrifying simper appeared on his face. “My joy and heart’s delight and...”

  Emily touched his shoulder. “You’re not in your right mind,” she said. The spell was an odd one. Penelope wasn’t stupid. She’d taken a very basic love spell and modified it. Emily would have been impressed if she hadn’t been so horrified. “Let me...”

  The blow caught her by surprise. She found herself on the ground, unsure of what had happened. He’d hit her... she tasted blood in her mouth. Her cheek was throbbing painfully. She was lucky he hadn’t knocked her out. She stumbled to her feet, just in time to see Mitch run into the undergrowth, loudly proclaiming his undying love. Emily gathered herself, then shot a tangle spell after him. Mitch’s ankles snapped together and he hit the ground with a thud. Emily staggered to her feet, picked up Mitch’s trousers and walked to him. He was still trying to drag himself forward.

  Penelope is going to pay for this, Emily thought, coldly. I’ll see to it personally.

  “I need to go to her,” Mitch said. “I need...”

  “No.” Emily cast the counterspell. “You really don’t.”

  Mitch jerked once, then lay still. Emily kept her distance, unsure how he’d react. Mind-manipulation spells cast long shadows over a victim, even after they’d been removed. He wouldn’t be in a good state even if he wasn’t half-naked in front of a stranger. Emily waited, stepping back as he rolled over and sat up. He looked as if he didn’t quite remember what had happened.

  “It’s alright,” Emily said. It felt like a lie. “How much do you remember?”

  “I... I wanted her,” Mitch said. “I...”

  Emily winced in sympathy, wishing - not for the first time - that there were therapists on the Nameless World. Mitch would have to come to terms, somehow, with his body betraying him. He’d been under a spell, but... it probably wouldn’t make any difference. People would laugh and joke and even say they envied him, while... it had been rape. Attempted rape. Emily wondered, as she held out his trousers, why she was surprised. The aristocratic blades she’d met thought they were entitled to any woman they wanted, whatever her feelings on the matter. Why should the witches be any different?

  She shuddered. And no one gives a damn about the women either...

  “Put on your trousers,” she said, as calmly as she could. “I’ll take you home.”

  Mitch nodded, his hands shaking as he tried to dress. Emily gave him what privacy she could, although she didn’t dare take her eyes off him completely. Who knew what else Penelope had done? Even if she hadn’t... he could still be suffering the lingering after-effects of the charm. Emily hoped he’d recover, in time. She’d seen too many people who hadn’t.

  The young man - he looked to be around the same age as she was - said nothing as they started to head back to town. Emily kept a wary eye on him, wondering what was going through his head. It was never easy to cope with becoming a victim... she winced, knowing Mitch was going to have a very rough time of it. She spied a couple of witches on the edge of town and glared at them, sending them scattering for their lives. There was no sign of Penelope. Emily promised herself she’d do whatever she had to do to make sure the girl was punished. Expulsion seemed too mild, somehow. She deserved far worse.

  She could have had anyone she wanted, Emily thought, as Mitch led her to his house. And she decided to rape a boy.

  The house was bigger than she’d expected, more of a rooming house than anything else. A ward brushed against her mind as Mitch pushed open the door and stepped inside, leading her into a giant sitting room. She heard someone running up the stairs - probably because she was a witch - as she looked around, spotting a worried-looking couple heading towards her. The man looked like an older version of Mitch. His father, Emily guessed. He stared at her as if he thought she was a wild animal that might bite at any moment.

  Mitch gabbled out an explanation, then slumped into a chair. His mother fetched a bottle of beer and gave it to him. Emily wanted to object, but she knew it wasn’t her place. She couldn’t help him, not in any meaningful way. She felt sick as she took the proffered chair and rested her hands in her lap. Mitch’s father sat facing her.

  “Great Lady,” he said. “What happened?”

  Great Lady, Emily thought, sardonically. I don’t feel very great at the moment.

  “Someone cast a love charm on him,” she said, bluntly. “It wasn’t his fault.”

  The father lowered his eyes. “What was she thinking?”

  “I don’t think she was thinking at all,” Emily said. She’d known girls who were boy-crazy, but none of them had resorted to rape. But then, most of the girls she’d known couldn’t have raped anyone. “I think...” - she shook her head - “I don’t know what she was thinking.”

  “He was going to get married,” the mother said. She sounded broken. “That won’t happen now.”

  Emily wanted to argue, to say - again - that it wasn’t Mitch’s fault. She wanted to assure them that Maggie and Mitch would have a very long and happy life together, although she knew it wasn’t true. The shadow of the love spell would hang over them for the rest of their lives. She ground her teeth in frustration. Maggie would always wonder if Mitch hadn’t so much as tried to fight the spell...

  She looked at the father and saw a broken man. She’d seen it before, in peasant villages and towns dominated by the nobility, but this was different. The father hadn’t grown up knowing, on a visceral level, that he could lose everything at a nobleman’s whim. Pendle was largely immune to the local nobility... she snorted, correcting herself. The witches were the local nobility and they’d turned nasty. It was the flaw in the system. There was no court of appeal, when a decent nobleman was replaced by a monster. And a single bad nobleman could grind his people into the dirt.

  “I only just arrived,” she said, quietly. She wove a charm into her voice in hopes of encouraging the father to talk. “What’s it been like here...?”

  “Bad,” the father said. “It wasn’t that bad, when I was a boy. The witches weren’t any better or worse than anyone else. But now... people are being hexed, or mistreated, or... it isn’t safe anymore. I want to leave, but I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  Emily listened to a liturgy of horror, wondering - again - what had gone wrong. People being cursed or hexed seemed to be the least of it. Shops were raided, homes were robbed... even a handful of people simply vanished without a trace. Emily frowned as she heard how the staff had see
med unconcerned, when the townspeople had tried to bring it to their attention. They’d been too busy pretending that everything was normal to admit they had a real problem. Mitch’s father wasn’t the only one considering a hasty departure, even if it meant leaving his properties behind. The witches - technically - owned most of the town.

  “You can go to Heart’s Eye,” Emily said. Caleb’s last letters had informed her that the town of Heart’s Ease was growing by leaps and bounds. Mitch and Maggie might make a good life there... if they wanted to spend the rest of their lives so close to a university. She made a mental note to ensure the town was patrolled a little better, with harsh punishments for anyone who abused the townspeople. “It’ll take you in.”

  “No, it won’t,” Mitch said. He looked up, bleakly. He’d drained several bottles while his father had been talking. “No one will take us.”

  “You might be surprised,” Emily said. “I can write you a letter of introduction, if you like.”

  She stood, brushing down her dress. She’d lingered too long. She had to go back to the school and make sure Penelope actually faced some real consequences. Somehow... she nodded to Mitch and his family, silently praying he recovered. It was never easy to rebuild one’s confidence after one had been treated as a...

  Her stomach churned as she made her way back towards the cafe. Brier and Nadine were still there, drinking tea and flirting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Emily felt a hot flash of anger. They should have been patrolling the town, keeping an eye on their charges and stamping on any sparks before they became fires. She wished, suddenly, that she’d thought to suggest it. They really should have been doing their jobs.

  “Emily?” Brier looked surprised, then worried. “What happened?”

  “Too much,” Emily said. It was hard to believe it was only mid-afternoon. “Have you seen Penelope?”

  “No.” Nadine and Brier exchanged glances. “Why...?”

  “I caught her using love spells on a townsman,” Emily said, flatly. She briefly outlined what had happened. “We have to catch her.”

  “A townsman?” Nadine sounded oddly amused. “Do you think she needed to bother?”

  “I had to undo the spell,” Emily said, flatly. “Where is she?”

  It was hard not to be angry. She’d expected better of someone who’d grown up in the certain knowledge her father would arrange her marriage, regardless of how she felt about it. Her new husband would not have been pleased if she hadn’t been a joyful bride on her wedding night, particularly as the marriage had to be consummated before it was truly valid.

  “She won’t have gone far,” Brier predicted. She didn’t sound too concerned. “She’s probably back at the school.”

  Emily scowled. It seemed like an odd choice, for someone on the run. And yet, it made a certain degree of sense. Penelope was a stranger. Emily had no idea if she could navigate the world outside Pendle, if she could get down to the nearest city and use the portals before the staff caught up with her. Penelope’s family... what would say? Would they defend her, on the ground she was family? Would they demand the right to punish her themselves? Or would they wash their hands of her? It was quite likely. At the very least, someone who’d been expelled would find it hard to get into another school. She would have to work long and hard to gain even a modicum of trust.

  “Then I’ll have to go back myself,” Emily said. She’d need to go straight to the headmistress before Penelope and her family started confusing the issue. “If you see her, grab hold and march her back to the school.”

  Nadine lifted her eyebrows. “I was unaware you gave the orders...”

  Emily cursed her mistake. “She needs to be caught and punished,” she said, flatly. She could apologize to Nadine for talking to her like a servant later. “It has to be done.”

  “The headmistress will make the final decision,” Brier said. “I suggest you leave the matter in her hands.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “WHAT SHE DID WAS EFFECTIVELY RAPE,” Emily said, flatly. “And she deserves the harshest possible punishment.”

  She stood in the headmistress’s office, scowling at Penelope. The girl sat on a hard wooden chair, her face a mixture of defiance and fear. Duchene sat behind the desk, Damia standing behind her. Mistress Jens stood next to Penelope, her face expressionless. Emily wasn’t sure why she’d been invited to join the meeting. The charms tutor hadn’t bothered to explain her presence when she’d arrived.

  “She stole his free will,” Emily continued, after a brief outline of everything that had happened. “She would have raped him, perhaps even been raped herself if he’d been so overcome with lust he couldn’t keep himself from taking her by force. Her decision to use a love spell is completely indefensible.”

  “Perhaps so,” Duchene said, coldly.

  “If she had done this at Whitehall, or Mountaintop, she would have been expelled,” Emily insisted. “She should be expelled here, too.”

  “Perhaps so,” Duchene repeated. She looked at Penelope. “Do you have anything you wish to say for yourself?”

  Penelope lifted her chin. “He wanted me,” she said. “I knew he wanted me...”

  “So you cast a love spell on him?” Emily didn’t believe a word. Penelope sounded like a sociopath. “If he wanted you, why would you need to bother?”

  “He needed an excuse,” Penelope said. “He wanted a last fling before marriage. His girlfriend wouldn’t be happy if he slept with me, so I gave him an excuse...”

  Emily blinked. Witches - and sorceresses - weren’t bound by the social codes that guided the rest of the world. They could have as much sex as they liked, with whoever they liked, relying on their magic to protect them from the consequences. Imaiqah had had at least a dozen boyfriends since she’d come out of her shell, some of whom hadn’t lasted long enough for Emily to remember their names. It was easy to believe a townsman would have wanted a brief affair, nothing more than sex, but there wouldn’t have been any need for a love spell. Penelope was hardly ugly.

  She found her voice. “Are you crazy?”

  “He wanted me,” Penelope said. “And I could tell. He just needed an excuse.”

  “That would be quite likely,” Mistress Jens said. “The townspeople are funny about such things.”

  “And there are better places to seek them,” Damia said. There was a hint of waspishness in her tone, a suggestion they’d had the argument before. “The town is not a fitting place for young witches.”

  “He wanted me,” Penelope repeated. “I...”

  “You used a love spell on him,” Emily snapped. “And I notice you didn’t take it off when you had him alone.”

  Damia cleared her throat. “By law, by the town charter, anything a witch does to an inhabitant is perfectly legal,” she said. “That was determined when the school was separated from the kingdom...”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Emily only realized she’d practically shouted when everyone, including Penelope, turned to stare. “There’s nothing legal about compelling sex from anyone, male or female. And there’s certainly nothing right about it.”

  “Such decisions are made on a case-by-case basis,” Damia continued, as if Emily hadn’t spoken. “And, in this case, no permanent harm was done.”

  Emily composed herself with an effort. “She stole his free will,” she said. “He’s a broken man. His engagement to his girlfriend has been dented and may be over completely. His family no longer feels safe in the town. And I’m pretty sure they’re not the only ones who are considering moving elsewhere.”

  “He should be honored a witch took an interest in him,” Mistress Jens said. “Many have wished for far less from us...”

  “He didn’t want her,” Emily said. “He could have dumped Maggie and slept with Penelope at any moment, if he’d wanted to. She wouldn’t have needed to use a love spell if he’d really wanted her.”

  “He needed an excuse,” Penelope insisted. “Otherwise he wouldn’t
have been able to get married...”

  “And what sort of person would he be,” Emily snarled, “if he wanted an excuse to sleep around?”

  She pushed on before anyone could stop her. “It’s easy to say that very little happened,” she said. “They didn’t have time to go that far. He certainly didn’t get penetrated. He didn’t lose a maidenhead he never had. He didn’t...

  “But that doesn’t change the fact she stole his free will. There’s no difference between a powerful witch casting a love spell and a man forcing himself on a woman through superior strength. There’s no difference at all. Mitch is going to have to live with that for the rest of his life, just as any woman who got raped will have to live with the fact she lost control of her body, that her body might even have betrayed her.”

  Her voice dropped. “It’s wrong.”

  “Legally, it isn’t,” Damia said. “Whatever a witch does...”

  Emily shook her head. “Do you really believe that excuse?”

  Duchene cleared her throat. “Legalities aside, casting love spells is highly dubious at the best of times. The risks are quite severe. Accordingly, Penelope will be confined to the castle for the remainder of the term. She will also write an essay on the dangers of what she did, regardless of the morality, and the risks of embracing one’s lusts. A witch must be in control of herself if she wishes to remain in touch with the world around her.”

  “You have got to be joking,” Emily said. “I...”