A Witch Alone

by James Nicol

  ‘You don’t need the doctor,’ Salle said crossly, fiddling with the tin. ‘Besides, I knew old grumpy knickers probably wouldn’t let him in anyway.’

  ‘So, what are we going to do?’ Arianwyn asked.

  The tin clattered to the floor and Salle knelt there gazing at Estar, holding a syringe. The glass cylinder glinted in her hand. ‘What . . . what is that?’ Miss Newam asked, moving forwards quickly from the counter.

  But as fast as lightning Salle grabbed the feyling’s thin arm in her hand and pressed the slender needle into the muscle of Estar’s blue flesh. The milky liquid in the syringe vanished.

  ‘What was that?’ Everyone seemed to ask the question at once.

  ‘Salle, what have you done?’ Arianwyn asked, fear bubbling inside her. She pushed Salle to one side and grasped Estar’s arm. A small bruise was blossoming under the blue skin.

  ‘It’s medicine from Doctor Cadbury,’ Salle snapped, picking up the tin. ‘An antibiotic.’ She packed the syringe away carefully. ‘I described his symptoms to Dr Cadbury, and he said Estar probably has an infection.’

  ‘I said there was to be—’ Miss Newam started to hiss.

  ‘No DOCTOR!’ Salle interrupted, her head whipping around, her eyes locking with Miss Newam’s. ‘And I didn’t bring the doctor here. Just the medicine that we thought might help.’

  The Spellorium fell silent and everyone looked at Salle.

  ‘We?’ Arianwyn asked.

  Salle looked ahead, avoiding Arianwyn’s eyes. ‘I’m Dr Cadbury’s new assistant,’ she said, lifting her head a little higher.

  ‘Oh, Salle – that’s wonderful!’ Arianwyn said, her heart swelling with pride for her friend.

  But Salle didn’t reply. She got to her feet and disappeared upstairs, returning moments later carrying a small bowl of water. She pulled out a clean collection of white cloths from her pocket and busied herself cleaning Estar’s cuts and scratches. He was streaked with mud and moss and dirt.

  ‘You are to move that creature out of town at once!’ Miss Newam commanded.

  Arianwyn’s vision blurred with tears, the day of emotions suddenly too much to contain. ‘Oh, Miss Newam, don’t you see? He might have the BOOK!’ she roared.

  Everyone in the room jumped, clearly shocked by Arianwyn’s outburst. And in a moment that seemed to stretch on for ever, she realized her huge error.

  She looked at Colin, Salle, Miss Delafield, Gimma, the mayor and Miss Newam. They all stared at her, faces dressed in equal measures of shock.

  ‘What book? What is Miss Gribble talking about?’ Mayor Belcher asked at last. She heard him step away from his perch by the door. ‘Miss Delafield, do you know what’s going on?’

  Miss Delafield shook her head. ‘No, Mayor Belcher, though I suspect Miss Newam might be able to enlighten us.’ She sounded angry.

  Oh, snotlings, Arianwyn thought. What have I done now?!

  ‘Josiah, I can explain,’ Miss Newam said, her voice trembling. She reached towards the mayor.

  ‘Wait!’ Colin said, stepping in front of Miss Newam, as though he was shielding her from attack. ‘We promised to keep the mission a secret.’

  ‘Mission?’ Miss Delafield asked. ‘Arianwyn, what is going on here?’

  Arianwyn’s eyes flicked around the Spellorium. She could feel herself shaking. She looked at Salle who just glanced away quickly, as if confused. She looked at Miss Newam, who simply glared at her for the hundredth time. She looked at Colin. His hair had flopped over into his eyes, but he only smiled gently, as if to say ‘go on, you might as well’.

  Arianwyn took a calming breath and she looked over at Miss Delafield.

  ‘The High Elder asked us to try to find the Book of Quiet Glyphs. That’s why we went into the Great Wood. To find the book – or Estar, because he knows where it is. So we can’t turn him away, Miss Newam. We need him.’

  ‘What is this book?’ the mayor asked.

  ‘It’s the book that contains more of the powerful quiet glyphs, like the shadow glyph that Arianwyn can see,’ Miss Delafield explained. Her voice sounded a bit far away, as though she was recalling a dream. ‘Like the ones my sister saw . . .’

  The Spellorium fell silent.

  It was Gimma who eventually spoke. ‘So Estar has the book?’ She sounded expectant, curious. She stepped forwards, eyeing the still feyling cautiously. But there was only the small pouch at his waist, too small for any book, and the stone blade at his side.

  Arianwyn looked down at Estar, ‘Perhaps he’s hidden it somewhere,’ she said hopefully, suddenly feeling helpless again. So near and yet so far.

  ‘Well, you’d better hope he has, Miss Gribble, or the High Elder will not be pleased,’ Miss Newam said quickly.

  Arianwyn’s eyes fell on her copy of A Witch Alone. The slip of paper that held the glyph of silence was safe between its pages. She should just tell everyone now and get it over with. ‘Miss Newam—’

  ‘And you cannot tell anyone about this mission. Any of you!’ Miss Newam interrupted. ‘We have to keep what has been discussed here between us – it can’t go any further.’

  ‘I doubt anyone would believe us anyway.’ Gimma smiled.

  ‘That’s neither here nor there, Miss Alverston,’ Miss Newam said quickly. She gave everyone one final sour look. ‘Well, it has been an eventful day and I’m tired, so I will be returning to the inn. Are you coming, Colin?’

  Colin looked quickly at Arianwyn and shrugged his shoulders in agreement. ‘Goodnight, Arianwyn. Let me know if Estar wakes up?’

  ‘Of course,’ Arianwyn replied.

  ‘I should be getting Gimma home,’ said the mayor, laying a hand on his niece’s forehead. ‘You look quite peaky again.’

  ‘Stop fussing!’ Gimma snapped, storming out of the Spellorium ahead of him.

  Miss Delafield yawned. ‘What a muddle!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Delafield. I couldn’t . . .’ She trailed off, noticing that Salle was moving towards the door. ‘Salle, wait,’ Arianwyn called, hurrying over to her friend. ‘Thank you for your help,’ she said simply.

  ‘It’s nothing, I wanted to help,’ Salle said. A look of uncertainty rushed over her face, like clouds gathering for a storm. She made to move but Arianwyn caught her arm. She desperately wanted to pull her friend into a tight hug. But something was different now; something had shut down between them and she didn’t know how to make it go back to how it had been before. ‘Well, you were great,’ Arianwyn said softly.

  ‘I had to help, Wyn. Don’t you see? You taught me that . . .’

  ‘Well, just don’t get yourself into any more trouble with Miss Newam,’ she said. Salle looked hurt. Arianwyn had meant it to sound light-hearted. But suddenly she realized it sounded like she was scolding Salle. ‘Wait, I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Why don’t you just spit it out, Wyn – you don’t think I can manage this, do you?’ Salle said, her voice rising. Her eyes shone.

  ‘No – it’s not that!’ Arianwyn said quickly.

  ‘I think you’re annoyed that for once you’re not the only one who can help and everyone isn’t depending on you. You’ve tried to hold me back, admit it, Wyn. You liked having me as a hanger-on until I had something of my own to do and now you’re trying to . . . stop me.’

  ‘No, Salle, I wouldn’t—’

  ‘You’re just jealous!’ As Salle spat out the words, a look of surprise flashed across her face. ‘You’re jealous and you can’t stand it. And now you feel guilty as well because of forgetting my interview.’

  ‘Well, I am sorry about that . . .’ Arianwyn started to explain. She could feel tears welling behind her eyes. Her nose itched and all she wanted to do was run away. She was horribly aware of Miss Delafield trying to stand discreetly on the far side of the Spellorium, desperately pretending she couldn’t hear every single word.

  ‘Well? Spit it out then.’ Salle glared, her eyes burning with anger, frustration and something else.

  Arianwyn tried t
o speak but her words caught in her throat and all that came out was a small rough squeak.

  ‘I knew it,’ Salle said, turning away. ‘I think I’d better go.’

  The words cut Arianwyn like a knife. She watched Salle leave the Spellorium without looking back. She barged past Colin and Miss Newam who had stopped a little way along Kettle Lane. It felt as though someone had shoved Arianwyn hard against a wall, knocking the wind from her.

  Miss Delafield crossed over and pulled the door of the Spellorium closed. ‘I think I’ll stay here tonight, dear. Bit too far to drive home so late.’

  ‘Where will you sleep?’ Arianwyn asked, though she was suddenly grateful that she wasn’t going to be all on her own.

  ‘I’ll be fine in the chair. Perhaps you could lend me a blanket and a pillow, though?’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Delafield. I’m sorry about not being able to tell you about the book.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, dear. I know how these things work. And I think you’ve got enough to be worrying about for now.’

  Arianwyn felt a moment of relief. She smiled weakly at Miss Delafield and then crossed slowly to where Estar lay. She sat on the floor, taking her friend’s blue hand in her own.

  He really was their only hope now.

  ‘Oh, Estar, please please wake up.’

  Chapter 33

  A DAY OFF

  arly next morning Arianwyn padded downstairs with a mug of hot tea. She crossed quietly to Miss Delafield and gave her a gentle shake where she slept in the chair beside the stove. Estar was lying on a bundle of blankets beside her.

  ‘I brought you some tea.’ Arianwyn smiled as Miss Delafield blinked and yawned.

  ‘Wonderful. Thank you, dear.’ She took a huge gulp of tea and then looked down at Estar. ‘At least he looks peaceful and he’s here now. We just have to wait for him to wake up.’ Her face suddenly became grave. ‘Young Colin told me about your father, dear. I am so sorry – if I’d known I wouldn’t have made you go out yesterday evening. If you want to take some time off . . .’

  Arianwyn shook her head, even as the tears fell down her cheeks. ‘No, it’s fine. I just wish I . . . I just want to speak to my grandmother,’ she said. She had a sudden longing for her grandmother that she hadn’t known had been there until she had said it. Arianwyn missed her voice, the smell of her hair. The safe feeling of her arms around her.

  Miss Delafield sat forwards, her red hair all bunched up and flyaway, not its usual sleek bob. She reached out a hand to Arianwyn. ‘And what would you say to her, if she were here now?’

  Arianwyn gulped back a sob, remembering how helpless she’d felt the previous night, when she hadn’t been able to defend herself against the skalk. ‘I’d ask her if it was possible for a witch to lose their powers, or the ability to control magic?’

  Miss Delafield sighed. ‘That’s what’s been worrying you?’

  Arianwyn nodded. ‘Amongst other things, of course.’

  Miss Delafield looked at her square on. ‘Every witch has a rough patch when spells don’t go right, dear. You’re probably just tired. You’ve been working so hard since you came back from Kingsport with the workload here doubling and your’ – she lowered her voice – ‘secret mission! It’s no wonder your spells have been a bit off. Happens to the best of us, dear.’ She smiled. ‘My mother used to say it’s all about confidence, like chopping wood. If you don’t swing the axe with enough confidence you’ll never get it to split, dear. So, don’t you be worrying about that any more.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Delafield,’ Arianwyn said. Her supervisor’s words had cheered her a little. Perhaps that was it; she was tired. But still a feeling niggled in the back of her mind that there was something else at work. But what?

  Miss Delafield stretched in her seat. ‘And now I am ordering you to take today off. We’ll keep the Spellorium closed and I can stay here to mind Estar. Go on, out you go and enjoy the day.’

  A day off? She hadn’t had a day off in weeks. Arianwyn looked at the feyling. He did look comfortable and peaceful. She smiled at Miss Delafield. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Not at all, dear. My pleasure – but perhaps before you go you could rustle up some breakfast?’

  Arianwyn left the Spellorium a while later after a breakfast of thick buttery toast and strawberry jam . . . and a visit from Dr Cadbury, who administered another injection and made hopeful mumbling sounds. ‘I am sure he’ll be back on his feet in no time,’ the doctor had said, peering over the top of his spectacles and smiling.

  Arianwyn had taken some writing paper, pen and a book and headed for the meadow. Now, she sat against the walls of Lull, where the sun felt almost as warm as it did on a summer’s day, though she had on her coat and scarf. The new charms glowed at the edge of the wood and the qered grazed the grass, which was touched here and there with patches of frost.

  She wrote to her grandmother, though she knew she wouldn’t receive the letter until she returned to the bookshop in Kingsport, whenever that might be.

  She read her book and tried not to think about her father and the telegram. ‘Don’t you dare come back until after six o’clock. Or I’ll have you relocated to somewhere really boring!’ Miss Delafield had warned her.

  For a while she considered going into Flaxsham to the cinema, but that wouldn’t be any fun on her own and she was certain neither Colin nor Salle would want to go with her at the moment. How did it all go so wrong?

  She heard the church clock strike midday and decided to treat herself to some Grunnean potato dumplings at Bandolli’s; they were almost as good as the ones her grandmother made.

  ‘How did you enjoy that, my flower?’ Mrs Bandolli asked, clearing away Arianwyn’s empty bowl.

  ‘Delicious, thank you.’ Arianwyn smiled and glanced out of the window just as Colin and Salle walked past the café, arm in arm and deep in conversation.

  Salle spotted Arianwyn through the window and the pair pulled to a halt. They both looked at her. Arianwyn took a deep breath and smiled quickly, then studied the menu intently. She tried not to think about what they might have been talking about. She knew she wasn’t the centre of the universe, but something told her they had been talking about her.

  The café door bells jangled as the door opened. It could be anyone, she thought. Bandolli’s was very popular. She wasn’t going to embarrass herself and turn round.

  ‘Salle! Colin!’ Mrs Bandolli called out cheerily. ‘Arianwyn’s in the corner there.’

  Terrific!

  ‘Hi, Arianwyn.’

  She looked up to see Colin and Salle standing beside her table. ‘Hello,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Miss Delafield gave me the day off,’ she added quickly, as though she had to explain.

  The air was thick with awkwardness.

  ‘Can we join you?’ Colin asked, at last.

  What is going on?

  Arianwyn could feel her cheeks burning as they lowered themselves into the seats opposite. She smiled quickly at Salle, who said rather formally, ‘How is Estar?’

  ‘Still asleep, but otherwise he seems OK. Dr Cadbury visited this morning before I left, thanks to you.’

  Salle shot her a curious glance, her brow wrinkled, lips pursed. She looked as though she was about to say something but Colin quickly interrupted with: ‘Shall I get us some cake? Yes, that’s what we need. Cake!’ He leapt from his seat and crossed over to the counter, where Mrs Bandolli was waiting.

  Arianwyn and Salle sat looking at each other in silence until Salle said, ‘Boys are so odd sometimes, don’t you think?’

  Arianwyn felt a small laugh bubble up in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed. It felt like medicine.

  ‘I’m sorry about your dad – and don’t be mad at Colin. I made him tell me,’ Salle said quickly. ‘And I’m sorry I was horrid to you.’

  There was so much to say and yet so much had shifted and changed between them that Arianwyn didn’t even know where to begin. ‘You were never a hanger-on,�
� she started. ‘You’re my best friend, Salle. The best friend I think I’ve ever had.’

  Salle reached out and grasped Arianwyn’s shaking hands in her own. ‘I know. It was just what you said that day about people never really changing. I thought you meant me. I thought you doubted me.’

  ‘I never doubted you, Salle. I only ever doubted myself. Everyone expects so much, and I expected too much of myself as well. Everyone thinks I’ve changed just because I’m not an apprentice any more. But some days I feel like I still don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to be doing really.’

  ‘I know how you feel!’

  ‘Do you think that feeling ever goes away?’ Arianwyn asked.

  ‘Maybe . . . maybe not. But does it matter – as long as you’ve got people to look out for you?’ Salle reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a slightly crumpled envelope, her name and address neatly typed on its front. She held it up, a huge toothy grin stretched across her shining face.

  ‘What’s that?’ Arianwyn asked, reaching for the envelope.

  ‘The Ethel Claymore Theatre have called me back for a second audition.’

  ‘What? Oh, Salle, that’s wonderful! In fact, that’s the best news I have heard . . . for ever!’

  ‘But I don’t know if I should stay here instead, helping Dr Cadbury. What do you think I should do, Wyn?’

  They leant over the table, pulling each other into a tight hug. Arianwyn felt warm tears on her cheeks but she wasn’t sure if they were her own or Salle’s.

  ‘Girls can be very odd sometimes,’ Colin said as he returned, setting three plates of lemon sponge cake on to the table.

  ‘Thank you, Colin.’ Arianwyn smiled, and she and Salle pulled him into the hug as well.

  They tucked into their cake, and a few minutes later Mrs Bandolli brought over three mugs of steaming hot chocolate with whipped cream on top. They sipped their drinks and ate their cake, talking about everything and nothing. Arianwyn sighed contentedly; she hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks. She felt a warmth spreading inside her, and it wasn’t just the hot chocolate.