Tira was thrilled to be a good witch in training. She was on her way to becoming a great healer. That was what she wanted. That was why she allowed herself to be transformed in the first place.
This evening Tira was managing the improvised clinic for Willow, her mentor. There had been a spate of fevers in the village recently, but the purple potion the witches had prepared was effective. The clinic was situated in the barn. Tira ran back and forth to the different straw beds, giving ladles of the potion, or dabbing foreheads with cold water.
“Tira!” called a little boy named Stuart from one of the straw beds. “My ‘ead ‘urts.”
“Your head hurts? I’m sorry,” said Tira, running over to him. She put her hands to his temples and concentrated. She could definitely sense Stuart had a headache. She made a complicated gesture in front of his eyes with her fingers. The spell for warding off headaches.
“Tira! ‘m stiff,” piped a girl on another straw bed.
“I’m sorry, Evie” said Tira, hurrying over to the girl, and giving her a scoop of the potion.
Gloom appeared at that moment. “Lot of malingerers here,” he grumbled.
“Woah!” Tira held up her hands. “Let’s not call anyone that. The fever is serious business.”
“Love ya, Tira,” said the farmer’s wife from a broad straw bed.
“I love you too,” said Tira grinning at her.
At that moment, there was a hooting, and a round, fluffy owl flew into the barn.
“Ooh! It’s Owl Jonson,” exclaimed Tira, running up to catch the owl in her hands as he fluttered down. She lightly kissed the top of his feathery head.
“Why’re you soft on that owl, Mistress?” said Gloom. “Your familiars are mice.”
“Owl Jonson would never hurt my mice,” said Tira, making a kissy face. “He’s a round bundle of joy, and I love him.”
“I may sound stoopid, but what is tha’ Owl Jonson?” asked Chris, the butcher’s boy.
“You’re not stupid!” said Tira. “Owl Jonson is one of Willow’s familiars and he’s bringing a message.”
Tira listened attentively to Owl Jonson’s hooting. “Ah! Great news. Willow’s séance with the spirits worked, and she’s found a cure for you all. One which works right away.”
“You’ll all be able to clear out then. Yay!” said Gloom.
“I want ter stay wiv Tira,” mumbled Evie from her straw bed.
“Aww, you’re so sweet,” said Tira, kissing the top of her curly head.
“You’re pretty,” giggled Evie, touching Tira’s cheek.
“Can’t you see she’s green?” said Gloom.
“Yeah, it’s pretty,” said Evie.
“Rocking the green!” said Tira, smiling.
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00O00
Once the cure had been distributed, the villagers all recovered and could leave. The spirit séance had worked beautifully. Willow was going to coach Tira to be as good at holding them as she was, and Tira was thrilled at the prospect. They were going to hold one tonight. Tira felt butterflies in her stomach just thinking about it.
Willow brought Jasper, her ward, back from the village school.
“Did you have a good day at school?” asked Tira beaming at him.
“That’s not how school works,” said Jasper tersely.
Willow chuckled and brushed her frizzy blond hair away from her green face. “It’s important for later life, dearest.”
“Changed my mind about what I want to be,” said Jasper. “I wanna be green and magic like you and Tira.”
“Aw, darling, you know Shekka won’t allow it,” said Willow, picking him up and kissing the top of his sandy hair. “She won’t transform boys or men.”
“Yeah, I never saw eye to eye with our goddess about that,” said Tira.
“But we do think you’re special and love you very much,” said Willow.
Tira felt a warm happy glow as Willow and Jasper rubbed their noses together.
“You were my best friend until I actually got friends at school,” Jasper told her.
Tira cringed a little. Jasper didn’t have any filter between his brain and mouth.
“It warms my heart that you are branching out and making new friends,” said Willow, giving her trade mark gap-toothed smile.
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00O00
The time came for the séance, when the moon was high. It had to take place in a hut out in the witch’s garden. In preparation, Tira lit the black candles that gave of eerie blue flames, and Willow fetched the tank with the bright blue frog that was an essential part of the rite.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
They both stripped naked in preparation. Another reason the séance had to be private was this rule the spirits had that they must be unarmed and naked. The rule was better explained in an ancient tongue, one which used the same word for both ‘naked’ and ‘unarmed.’
First they had to touch the frog to their chests. Willow put the little blue amphibian between her breasts and felt the tingling of its secretion against her bare skin. It would be poison to any non-magical human being.
Tira had stripped down and her long, silky blond hair hung loose behind her, like a sheet of pale gold. The eerie candlelight shone off her green nose and cheeks. Her nose was so cutely formed and when she smiled back at Willow, her bluish lips looked full and kissable. Willow felt her heart swell with pride within her. Her apprentice who she had come to love was ready for her first séance!
“Sorry froggy,” said Tira, as she placed the blue frog between her firm breasts. “Ooh,” her pretty mouth formed a perfect ‘O.’ “That tickles.”
The effects of the frog’s secretion made them feel dizzy and Willow felt the familiar sensation of entering a trance.
Tira made the appropriate series of gestures with her green fingers in front of the circle in the centre of the room and the witches sat side by side cross legged on the floor.
“Come and visit us, please?” called Tira.
The air shimmered in the middle of the circle and the blue candlelight flared as another spectral blue light shone above the circle and coalesced to form the outline of a man with the clothes of a notary and a short, pointed beard.
“What is this?” barked the ghost. “Witches?”
“Yes Sir!” said Tira beaming. “Thanks so much for coming. How are things on the other side?”
“How do you think?” barked the Notary. “I’m still reeling from the indignity of my untimely death. A man of sharp wit and learning such as I! Granat needs me. It was a monstrous injustice.”
Tira’s green forehead creased as her brows drew together and her bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry. Wish I could help.”
Willow watched and listened carefully. How Tira conducted this séance would decide how far she still had to go before she was proficient at necromancy.
“Your look and your character don’t exactly mesh,” said the ghost. “You’re a juxtaposition.”
Tira smiled and touched her green cheek. “Perhaps.”
The ghost tutted. “You’ve no focus. You haven’t even introduced us.”
“Oh… sorry,” said Tira, twirling a strand of her blond hair between her fingers. “Um… I’m Tira and this is Wilhelmina… Uh… I mean Willow.”
Tira was clearly flustered – she had forgotten to use Willow’s preferred name. Willow made a mental note. During a séance, a witch had to take charge.
“And who are you Sir? May I ask? Please?” said Tira, smiling at the ghost.
“I? I am Magnus Zachaire, scholar extraordinaire! There is nothing I don’t know. I know it is the witch way to present yourselves like this…” he gestured at both naked green women on the floor. “No lady would appear in this way.”
“Sorry, yes,” said Tira, twirling her hair between her fingers again, “it’s the rite rules. I didn’t make them.”
“The gods of Granat are inscrutable with their rules,” said Zachaire.
“Yes!” said Tira. “For instance, Shekka’s rule that men can’t be witches, why would she decide that?”
“You lay all the blame at the foot of the gods? Can you not be both a witch and a lady?” barked Zachaire.
Tira smiled at him a little nervously. “I don’t know. Can we?”
“Don’t you know anything?” snapped Zachaire. “Of course you can! Witches don’t live by normal rules. Don’t you know of the story of Reinhilde, a witch who became a princess?”
“I didn’t, but thanks for telling me,” said Tira. “You’re so wise.”
“Of course I am,” said Zachaire, stroking his pointed beard. “Do I need telling that?”
Tira giggled, crinkling her shiny green nose. “No.”
“But tell me something interesting,” said Zachaire. “What was the best use you made of your necromancy?”
Tira’s blue eyes shimmered with tears in the candlelight. “When we called on my mother.” Tira’s voice quivered as emotion welled up in her. “I hadn’t seen her for two years. She said she was proud of me, cos I defeated the Infernal Beast.” Tira choked as sparkling tears ran down her cheeks.
Willow put her arms around Tira’s naked body and held her close. The girl’s tears splashed onto Willow’s shoulder.
“On the other side, we have the advantage of seeing what is less obvious to you,” said Zachaire smoothly. “Your mother is aware of what you’ve done.”
Tira turned her shining face to him and gulped and nodded.
“Now I get to tell you something,” said Zachaire. “Your warrior friend has been abducted.”
Tira gave a start, her blue eyes widening. “WHAT?” she exclaimed, her mouth opening wide.
Willow felt a chill. That sweet young warrior kidnapped?
“How? Where? Why?” demanded Tira. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling.
“Fortunately, you had the foresight to make a pair of amulets, one for you and one for him. That should facilitate your tracking him and finding out for yourself. Now I must leave you. Farewell.” Zachaire’s spectral outline shimmered and then vanished.
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00O00
In the cave of Millie the Bedlam Hag, Jemmy felt his palms sweating with his nervousness and he glanced around the cave. There was a carved shelf in the rocky wall with what looked like a human skull on it.
Millie’s black lips twitched to form a smile and then she grabbed his wrist and sniffed his sweating palm. Her long nose was cold against his skin. “Mm,” she murmured. Jemmy marvelled at her odd behaviour. Why would she want to smell his sweat?
“Aw, you’re feeling woozy,” said Millie as she released his wrist. “That’s OK. I made something that’ll help.”
She held out a clay beaker, then started flexing the green fingers of her other hand and drumming her nails on the drinking vessel. Jemmy understood that this was a tic which a lot of witches developed though their spell casting. Willow the good witch had it. This moment of familiarity made him feel a little more at ease.
Millie held the beaker up to her lips. “Let me blow some of the scent to you.” She pursed her lips and blew. Jemmy got a waft of its peppery aroma.
“Here, drink some,” said Millie, pushing the beaker to his lips and pouring some in his mouth. “Very good… drink that.”
He choked as the spicy brew trickled down his throat and warmth spread from his stomach, through his limbs and to his fingers and toes. He could move again. He shifted his arms and legs.
Millie leaned close, her cold, stale breath tickling. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
Jemmy was nonplussed. Millie started to grin fixedly at him, her eyes gleaming.
“Ah… that is… who can explain love,” he said, glancing around the cave for an exit.
Millie cupped his face in her cold hands. “Look at me. I knew I was in love the first time I saw a handsome warrior. I saw your light from high in the clouds that night. I knew I had to have you. It was those other witches that kept us apart. Vi, always thinking she could push me around, when I’m the brains behind our storm magic. And that ditzy girl screeching at me from the ground about how I should behave. Pah!”
Jemmy definitely had a bad feeling about this.
“I had to bring you here into my cave. It is only right and proper that my cave of wonders should be yours. I’ll keep you safe. That warrior woman couldn’t.” Millie’s green face contorted in a grimace. “What’s a warrior woman compared to a real witch? What sort of a wife was she? I’m a million times better. She failed, but I’d never let anything happen to you. I’ll go get your son. I’ll be his mother now and we’ll stay here. I’m head of household.”
Jemmy’s head was reeling with all her weird ranting, but at this he knew he had to be firm.
“Millie, stop this.” He gripped her arms and her brown eyes widened. “You can never be my wife or mother to my son. Now do the right thing and take me back to Coltbridge.”
The witch breathed hard through her nose and she glared at him. How was she going to take this? Had he just angered a powerful magic woman?