Chapter 2: New Arrival

Somer and the Witches of Witchwood gear up for the annual celebrations, but an unexpected visitor has the coven in a tizzy.

“Somer, come quick!” shouted Melissa up the stairs. “Nunn…” I groaned, rolling over. It wasn’t more than two hours ago that I went to sleep. I heaved myself out of bed anyway, pulling on a pair of blue jeans and a grey tee. It was cold in the house, so I put on the lilac jumper from the night before and my big, fluffy socks, before padding down my ladder. I took my sweet time going down the stairs, yawning more often than I could stand. I went straight to the kitchen and stopped in mid-yawn. There was a strange man in the kitchen. Well, okay, man doesn’t quite do it for him. He was a boy, but only about my age. He had green eyes and pale skin, with a mop of black hair on his head. He wore a pitch-black coat and a skull and cross bones adorned his shirt. His jeans were tighter than any I’d ever seen on a woman. He was one of those emo-goth kids. I saw his eyes widen when I entered. I decided to intrude, just to find out his name. Holy-. Is that a person? I flushed in anger. I didn’t look that bad, even in the mornings... “Hi.” I said brightly, trying not to make him implode. Because, you know, that’s kind of rude. Just a little. “So, umm, not to be rude, but what are you doing in my house?” I asked, going over to the pantry to get a cup out. I got water from the tap and took a sip while I read his thoughts. (Reading people’s thought is a natural Gift to me, but I can control it completely, and it’s physically impossible for me to do it on accident.) She’s one of them. He thought. She’ll probably put a spell on me if I look at her too long. She probably already has. I stared at him. Misconceptions galore.

“Melissa!” I shouted. Melissa scurried into the kitchen as quickly as her little legs would carry her. “Who’s he?” I asked her in a clipped voice. Melissa smiled at me. “You’ve been poking about, haven’t you Somer?” she reprimanded quietly. I looked away guiltily. “So? The fact still remains that he’s a stranger, and he’s in our house.” I said quickly, to cover up my trespass. “He’s not a stranger.” said Krista, chipper as ever, walking over to him and hugging him tight. “He’s my brother.” she said happily. I dropped the glass I was holding and Persephone screamed from the other room. (I think I should warn you, we all have our quibbles with simple things. Like with Krista, she’s afraid of rabbits. And Persephone is afraid of breaking glass. It pretty much goes that way the whole of us.) “Oops.” I said, snapping my fingers quickly. The glass reassembled itself and hurled itself at my hand, landing neatly in it, still filled with water. Magic is so cool.

Salina walked in to find Krista hugging a strange kid and me holding a Reassembled glass. Persephone was still screaming bloody murder, and Melissa was muttering about glass fragments even though she knew my magic left nothing to be wanted. “I wouldn’t ask, if there wasn’t a guest.” she said calmly. I know it’s sad, but this kind of thing is kind of normal, except for the guest factor. We never got visitors, because of Salina’s magic. Only a witch she knew or of a clan we were friendly with was allowed. And family of our witches of course. But none of our witches had family that didn’t live in the coven. That’s how miserable our lives were.

Salina had Krista explain who the boy was. His name was Trevor, and when Krista had left home, he had been two. Krista had left twelve years ago, because her parents couldn’t hack her magic. Sucks for them. They missed out on a great girl. Trevor didn’t remember Krista, but Krista’s parents had told him about his witch sister. He had come looking for her because their parents had passed away recently. He didn’t have a house anymore, and as their parents grew older and more desperate for money, they talked constantly about their deserter daughter who was living easy in a huge house in Witchwood Forest. “So you’re a mooch?” grouched Wendy. Krista stuck her tongue out at Wendy and Janie said cheerily, “Just like Krista, he is.” Krista laughed, as good a sport as ever.

Jazz walked into the kitchen. Or, rather, he bumped his way into the kitchen. Jazz is always half-asleep when he comes downstairs. The only broken bone he’s ever had has resulted from him falling down stairs in the mornings. “Who he?” he yawned, stumbling over to the coffee maker. “Krista’s brother.” Salina said, pondering. Trevor decided mentally that he had had enough of the House of Witch. He stood up just as Salina made her decision. “Trevor, would you like to stay for a moment more? We can whip you up something for your nerves while you’re here.” I turned to her in surprise. “Witches’ Brew?” I asked. She smiled at me. “Witches’ Brew.” she assented. Trevor looked alarmed. “What’s in it?” he asked suspiciously. “Oh, you know. Witchy stuff.” I said breezily, gathering my ingredients. Janie didn’t make Witches’ Brew as well as I did, and it wasn’t safe to let Jazz near a cauldron this early in the morn. “Like?” he asked. “Like, Cinnamon, cranberry juice, the works really.” I explained. I found the card for it and handed it to him. It was written on old, yellowed parchment, with a quill pen.

Witches’ Brew

This delicious fruity drink will give you a magical boost on those cold winter nights. While the cauldron can be substituted with an ordinary pot, you may find the brew will lose some of its potency. For a little extra zip, add a few drops of Full Moon Water just before serving.

3 cups Apple cider

1 cup cranberry juice

1 stick cinnamon

1 teaspoon whole cloves

1 tablespoon honey

I. Put all ingredients into a small cauldron on the stove

II. Heat well, but do not boil

III. Add seven clockwise, six counter turns for extreme flavor

IV. Strain out cloves and cinnamon stick

V. Serve hot in mugs

He stared at the ingredients. “You have all this?” he asked. “Yup.” I answered, already halfway done. I’d made this brew so many times I could do it with my eyes closed. The clan always demanded that I make the brew when it was requested, because I added my own ingredients that nobody else knew. What I did was add seven drops of F.M. Water, and six drops of New moon water. Then I put in three grains of sugar, and stirred it with a spell of my own invention. I coated the bottom of the mugs with a terribly light layer of honey, or according to people’s preferences. For Jocelyn, I left out the honey-mug, because she liked things sweet, but not so much so that it took away the actual taste of the brew. I frowned over the potion. It was the right color, right scent, but there was something missing. “Clove! Damn!” I shouted, racing around for the bottle of cloves. It was empty. “Duck in cover!” I shouted as loud as I could, and the witches in the room reacted immediately. I yanked Trevor down on the floor just as the cauldron emitted a loud BOOM and shook the very walls of the house. The potion was giving off foul black smoke, and it was a curdled little ball in the bottom of the cauldron.

Janie was laughing her head off in between coughs, and Persephone started screaming again. “Persephone, SHUT UP child!” bellowed Wendy, coughing. Clairey entered soon after we had aired out the room and disposed of the brew. “Morning.” she cooed. Her voice is a breathy thing, sweet and high and totally adorable. She has her brother’s carrot red hair, which falls in glossy curls down her back. Her forest-green eyes lit up her pale, flawless little face, and accented her hair perfectly. Her favorite color to wear was emerald, to accentuate her green heritage. She looked around the room and sniffed, scrunching up her little nose. “Somer, what’s with the icky smell?” she asked, walking over to be held by me. I was her favorite witch, because I didn’t tease her like Jazz and I was around her age group. I picked her up and held her on my hip as I explained the morning’s events. She listened intently, and when I finished she looked at Jazz and asked him sweetly, “Jazz, you and Somer have done Clairvoyance, right?” He nodded, confused. “I want you guys to make the potion for me.” I was so stunned that I had to put her down before I dropped her. “Clairey, we don’t… we haven’t actually tried it yet.” I said breathlessly, as Jazz went off about “Are you completely crazy Clairey? Did you hit your head and go insane?” He was practically yelling at her.

I saw the tears well up in her eyes and in an instant she was on my hip again, being held close as she cried. Clair-bear is a delicate little thing, and she gets upset when other people are. Jazz was practically screaming at her now, about how dangerous it was, and how he wasn’t letting his little sister try a clairvoyance potion. “Jasper, shut up.”I snarled, glaring at him. He stopped ranting immediately. “Clair-bear, we don’t even know the after-effects yet. Nobody has tried it in hundreds of years, at least not in Witchwood anyway. But why do you suddenly want Clairvoyance?” I asked, realizing that it was so out-of-the-blue and in our shock we hadn't even tried to consider the reasoning behind it.

“B-because. Y-y-you guys all have powers, and I just get to watch.” she cried. I had been expecting this to happen as time went on; I could see the longing in Clairey’s eyes when she watched us do spells and potions and study theories. Not the theories so much, because she could study them better than Jazz could (which isn’t really saying something; Jazz’s handwriting was so bad that he couldn’t read it, and he couldn’t write fast enough to keep up with Jocelyn’s theory and ingredient lectures), and she was free to try any spells she wanted, as long as it wasn’t Black. (No racism, I mean, Salina is African American. And yes, I mean she was born in America, in New York. She moved to Witchwood when she was ten, for her own reasons, and then when the previous Witchwood Mother had noticed her skill and trained her for the Motherhood, she had moved to the cottage.) Potions weren’t her strong point; as in she’d never managed to finish one, or to complete it to its full potential.

“I don’t have powers.” said Trevor pointedly from the kitchen table. Clairey looked at him curiously. “Yes you do.” she said simply. I set her down and she toddled over to him, looking at him like he was a strange bird with a fork sticking out of his head. “You have just a bit of power. Not as much as Somer, but it’s there.” she said reassuringly, patting his arm and then coming back to me. She took my hand and then looked at me expectantly. I read her thoughts. I groaned. She smiled. “Fine, I’ll do the spell.” I said. She tapped her foot. I sighed. “And the potion.” She reached up and kissed my cheek before apologizing to Jazz and going off to play outside.

Jazz stalked off to his bedroom, throwing a dirty glance at me as he went. Trevor looked confused. The rest of the witches exited the room now that the excitement was over. I stared at the strange boy before me, sitting in my kitchen. Clairey could see his power because she’d been exposed to ours her whole life and she knew what it looked like, knew what to look for. Trevor fidgeted in my gaze, but stared back. I smiled. “Come on, clumsy.” I said, laughing. I exited through the back door that was on the far side of the kitchen. He hesitated for a moment, but followed after I sighed impatiently and ducked back in, grabbing his wrist and yanking him along with me.

“Where are we going?” he asked tentatively. “It’s a secret, now shut up.” I said all good-humor. We got to the heart of the forest, only just far away from the house that you couldn’t see it. The trees were already bare, and the leaves on the ground were browned. It was relatively cold out, but it didn’t bother me, though I knew Trevor was affected. He didn’t have a coat, but hey, I didn’t have shoes, so deal. “What are you going to do?” he said, with the air of someone fearing for his life. I rolled my eyes. “Oh relax. I’m just going to see if you do have any power. If you don’t, then Clairey was only kidding, and the others needn’t know. And if you do… well they still don’t need to know.” I said, stopping when I got to the very middle of the trees. Witchwood forest is huge; nobody knows exactly how big. Getting to the middle is no mean feat, but I went there all the time, so I didn’t really care anymore.

I turned to face him, and he froze. I had an air of business about me, and I knew he was getting alarmed. “Oh, will you please.”I snapped. He stopped tensing, and tried to relax. “Alright. If you’re done being a child, I’ll start the spell now.” I said quietly. I didn’t really know the actual spell for it, but I was making one up on the way here. It had Latin in it, which is kind of a little Black, but I couldn’t think of anything rhyme-ish, so it would have to work.

“With my spell I divine,

mihi magio ostendet poder.”

I felt the air turn when I finished the incantation. Basically it was: With my spell I divine, my magic, power it shows/ showed. It should work, because even though it wasn’t specific as most magic must be, it was in Latin, and no Latin is specific enough for Light magic, so. His eyes were closed, listening to the shift. I didn’t know exactly what I was waiting for, but then I saw. The shimmer around the edges of his figure, as though he was in touch with his surroundings and nature. It was faint, not as powerful as I imagined that Jazz’s would be, or even Melissa, or Persephone, but it was definitely there. He would make a good Helper, a witch who helped a Caster with their spells in a bind. I was mostly a Caster, but I was also an Alchemist, like Jazz. I turned back to go to the house. He deliberated, unsure about whether he should follow me. An animal (a big animal) made up his mind for him by snapping what sounded like a log.

When we returned to the house, most of the witches were at their daily activities already. Janie was in the kitchen, Melissa was in the living room on the second floor, obsessively scrubbing a wooden table, Jocelyn was answering some of Clairey’s questions and putting books on their shelves on the third floor, Jazz was sulking in his bedroom, Persephone was watching her nineteenth goldfish swim with such rapture that would befit a child, and Salina and Wendy were probably discussing how best to conduct a ceremony. God only knows what Krista was off doing. Probably helping Persephone creep that fish out by staring at it. Those girls were thicker than thieves.

“So… what’re you going to do with me?” asked Trevor after following me up all the stairs, to the foot of my trap door. “Me? Nothing. Probably not worth doing anything with.” I said with a shrug, going up the stairs. He followed me, to my annoyance. I went and sat on my bed, pulling off my ruined socks. Trevor leaned casually up against a box of old spell books that I had memorized when I was six. “And why do you think that?” he asked. I shrugged again, not meeting his eyes. I didn’t look into his thoughts either. I didn’t want to know if he was angry, hurt, what. I really didn’t care. He was silent for a few minutes while I rubbed my feet. When he spoke, it startled me. “Will you teach me to be a witch?” he asked quietly, his face red and eyes not meeting mine. I looked up, startled. “Why?” I asked. “I want Krista to be proud of me. And I need a place to stay. They don’t need to know you’re training me, but I want to make her happy that I’m here. I haven’t been around for her, and if she’s anything like my mother, she misses having a family.” he said. I flared up at once. “Krista has a family. One that won’t ever desert her or forget her.” I snarled, leaping up from my bed and running down the ladder. In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to overreact a wee bit. I heard his thoughts say that was so stupid! Why did I say that? He was mad at himself. Well GOOD.

I didn’t care. Tears came to my eyes as I ran, down the stairs, and out the front door, slamming it behind me. I left the protective circle of mushrooms and ran on through the woods. We were more a family than Trevor would ever know. On nights when one of us was upset, all the rest of us could feel it, unexplainably; we just knew when another of us was sad. We called ourselves family. We were more family for each other than Trevor had ever had. We fought, often, but we never deserted each other. We had fun, we understood each other, but we also had serious times when we could talk or cry it out. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know, reprimanded a small voice in my head. He thought we were only together for the benefit of it. I had a lot to think about.

I have no idea how long I stayed in the forest, but when I came back, I had made two important decisions. And I had a plan. Both of those decisions were imperative to my plan. I hurried up to my bedroom. I’d missed supper, but I wasn’t hungry. The house was quiet, and the sun was set. I went straight to an old treasure box that had been in the attic when we had moved in. The last Witchwood Generation had dabbled in Dark Magic on occasion, and kept supplies and books in that very treasure box. I would unlock it, and set my plan in action. It would take awhile, but eventually, if ever, I may need to put it forward. But when the moment came, I would be ready. I would be the best Witch that the world had ever seen. I would protect my clan. And I would have a Helper to assist me.

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