Caution: Witch In Progress (7 page)

    Soon after lunch, the trainee witches and warlocks found
themselves back in the same classroom with Miss Hemlock. She reminded them all
that she was now about to teach them The Voice.

    ‘The Grimace, The Point and The Voice, all used together, form
the basis of any real spell,’ Miss Hemlock began.

    Bertha gave a deep sigh and visibly slumped even further into
her creaking seat. ‘Three things at once,’ she muttered to Gertie. ‘This is
getting a bit ridiculous. I need a rest at the very thought of it.’

    ‘The Voice,’ continued the teacher, ‘makes your spell sound
right. If it doesn’t sound right, then no one will take you seriously. What you
all need to try very hard to do is to achieve a voice that sounds like thunder
about to roll. Actually, it does help if you can make a storm at the same time,
but that is just an extra tip. You won’t be marked on it right now.’

    Gertie didn’t think she had a chance, and actually, she was
right. Her voice was sweet, gentle and kind; and was more likely to lull
someone to sleep than to strike fear in them. It was working on Bertha anyway,
who she had turned to whisper to. The big girl’s head looked about ready to
nod.

    After demonstrating The Voice several times with a variety of
witchy phrases, Miss Hemlock picked out several pupils to try. Gertie was so
pleased she was not one of them. Bertha was however. She was shook out of the
beginnings of a snore by her name being called.

    Bertha’s “Voice” came out sounding like she was full of a cold
and breathing heavily with the exertion. She did however manage a surprisingly
good voice when Miss Hemlock said, ‘Make it personal, Bertha, think of someone
threatening you or taking something that is yours.’

    Bertha screwed up her face in concentration. ‘I know!’ she said,
‘I remember a dream where someone was taking my last devil cake.’

    She shocked the whole room by bellowing ‘Put that down or you’ll
live to regret it!’

    ‘Excellent, Bertha!’ said Miss Hemlock in surprise. ‘Well done,
girl. And you pointed at the same time. Very good!’

    Bertha was delighted. ‘Oh yes! I pointed at the same time
without even thinking about it. Maybe I’m becoming a real witch all of a
sudden, without even trying.’

    Gertie was very impressed. Maybe Bertha could give her some tips
when they went back to their rooms later.

    Miss Hemlock told the class it would be silly for them all to
try the voice at the same time, because everyone would drown each other out.
What they needed to do now was to return to their own rooms, and practice.

    For the rest of the day, up and down corridors and through solid
wooden doors; all that could be heard were shouts, commands, and fearsome
threats. The whole Academy echoed with them. Some teachers could be seen to
pause outside various rooms, nodding in approval.

    Gertie didn’t hear anyone pause at her door. She was practising
her Voice so quietly Owl was fast asleep and drowning out her words by his
snores. Gertie didn’t want anyone to hear her, because she felt foolish. But,
if she felt silly even practising, alone, how could she ever cast a real spell?
Oh dear. Gertie did not like The Voice.

    She was however looking forward to her next class. Miss Fiendish
was going to teach them all about protective spells and antidotes.

Life
in Vile Vale was going on the same as it ever did. Grothilde had disgraced
herself at the Cat and Broomstick again, but there was nothing new about that.
She had her excuses ready when Ma and Gran went to visit her.

    ‘It was Mona,’ she insisted. ‘I told ‘er I’d had enough, but she
would insist on one for the road. You know what sisters are like. I should have
let the road get its own. It hit me when I got outside.’

    What Grothilde meant was she had ended up flat on her face
outside the pub.

    Ma and Gran said they hadn’t heard about Grothilde’s latest
incident, but of course they had. It was one of the new talking points of the
village. The other was that ‘two of our village’ are at the Academy.

    Grothilde looked around, then back at Ma and Gran at the same
time, even though Gran was sitting down and Ma still standing.

    ‘Not the same, is it?’ she asked.

    ‘What?’ asked Gran.

    ‘Without the little blighter ‘ere too. She enjoys my animated
chair so much.’

    ‘I know,’ replied Ma, almost tearfully. ‘I miss her terribly.’

    ‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ replied Grothilde, looking sorry she had
brought the subject up. She hadn’t wanted to upset Ma. ‘Fang is loving every
minute to hear his Ma talk, and he’s doing so well. He’s made lots of new
friends, and all the teachers keep praising him. He’s sure to pass with full
Dishonour, he is. I’m sure Gertie will too,’ she added as an afterthought.

    ‘Course she will,’ snapped Gran. ‘Gertie just doesn’t brag about
it as much as that little Devil does. She gets on with it.’

    Grothilde smiled. She obviously hoped Gertie would do well, but
she didn’t look too sure about her chances.

    Ma knew Gertie seemed fine, but it didn’t stop her worrying
about the little girl. Later that day back in their own home, she sat quietly
in Gertie’s room for a while. Ma believed she could tell how the young witch
was feeling when she sat amongst her belongings. The only impressions she
received were happy ones, but she still missed Gertie. Ma opened Gertie’s
wardrobe to touch some of the clothes she had left behind, only to be assailed
by Bat. She had forgotten he was there.

    ‘Oh!’ called the umbrella. ‘So you’ve finally remembered I exist
have you? About time too. A guy could die in here and not be found for months,
I can tell you. Where is she, then? She forgot to take me with her, you know.
She’ll be really upset. Come on, let’s get going and cheer her up. DON’T SHUT
THE …door again…Blast.’

    Ma went back down to Gran who was finishing off her latest
shawl. It was black, and like a huge cobweb. Actually, all her shawls were
black, and like huge cobwebs. Ma had decided long ago that Gran probably just
enjoyed knitting them.

    ‘Okay?’ Gran asked, clearly seeing Ma was feeling upset.

    ‘Yes, I’m alright, Mother,’ replied Ma. ‘It’s just, well, it’s
that Gertie is so…so…I don’t think I can say it.’

    ‘Go on,’ encouraged Gran.

    ‘Well, she’s so…sweet and innocent.’

    ‘SHHHH!’ hushed Gran. ‘You mustn’t let anyone else hear you say
that. We’d be the laughing stock of the village. Leave that fate to Grothilde.
She’s used to it.’

    ‘Oh, I know,’ replied Ma. ‘I only said it between us.’

    ‘Yes,’ answered Gran, ‘I know. She'll grow out of it. She’s only
young. I still say she’ll be special, and not just because I love the little
blighter so much either. You’ll see. Mark my words.’

    Ma hoped she was right.

    For Gertie, the days flew past. She would have hated to know Ma
was upset, but the thought never crossed her mind. She thought of Ma and Gran a
lot, and even had imaginary conversations with them when she wanted to tell
them anything. She never felt sad though, because she knew they wanted her to
come to the Academy. There was so much to see, do and learn here. Everything
was so interesting, especially the library.

    Gertie had always loved books, so she spent a lot of her free
time amongst them. She loved to look in awe at the hundreds of volumes stacked
high on the strong oak shelves. The librarian was a very quietly spoken warlock
called Mr Mort. He was so pale, Gertie wondered if he ever saw light of day. He
seemed to spend every minute of each day in the library. He was always there
when Gertie went in, and that was a lot. At first, Gertie believed he probably
slept amongst the books too. He didn’t of course. Later on Gertie found out his
room was just off the library and linked by a door at the side.

    Mr Mort acted as if he had grown quite fond of the strange
little witch (as most people did), and always tried to answer her questions. He
seemed glad of her company. A lot of students only went into the library when
they had to, and got out again as quickly as they could. Gertie actually liked
it, and was as fond of books as he was.

    She had already been in to ask about books for her next class
with Miss Fiendish, so she had learned a little about protective spells and
herbs for antidotes. She felt better prepared therefore when she found herself
sat in the class at last, still at the back and next to Bertha.

    Miss Fiendish soon arrived, and gave the class a smile. It
really did look like a smile when it came from Miss Fiendish. Gertie was sure
the other teachers spent so much time grimacing they had forgotten how to smile
at all.

    The teacher introduced herself, and then began to explain to the
class what her lessons would be about.

    ‘At the Academy, you will be taught all you need to know about
the art of witchcraft, and the casting of spells. What might not have occurred
to you at this point however is just as you are casting spells on others, so
they will cast spells on you.’

    ‘I’d like to see anyone try,’ smirked Fang.

    ‘Are you so great a warlock already, that you can avert any
spells cast on you, Fang?’ asked Miss Fiendish with a look of mock surprise on
her face.

    ‘They wouldn’t dare,’ he growled.

    ‘Oh, really,’ replied the teacher. ‘I didn’t realise that every
powerful witch and warlock in the land is so afraid of you.’

    ‘I meant anyone here,’ bragged Fang, but with a little
hesitation.

    ‘Ah, I see. So, you’re never going to come up against anyone but
trainee children are you?’

    Fang opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Well, he closed
it as much as his teeth would allow.

    ‘Do you see what I mean, Fang?’ asked Miss Fiendish quite
pleasantly. ‘We all need to learn protective spells too. No true warlock is
going to stand back and let you throw spells at him, Fang, without throwing a
few back.’

    Fang clearly hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t look like he
relished the thought of being on the receiving end at all. He sat forward to
pay attention to what he had called a ‘namby pamby class’ earlier.

    ‘One thing you might decide you would like to wear is a
pentacle,’ Miss Fiendish addressed the class again, drawing a five pointed star
on the board. ‘The pentacle is traditionally a weapon of power in magic, and
protects the wearer against evil spirits and demon attacks.’

    Gertie scribbled madly in her notebook.

    ‘So, if I wear a pentacle, I will be protected against any
spells cast on me?’ asked Hexa. Not one of the trainee witches and warlocks
seemed to have considered spells being cast on them before.

    ‘Not entirely,’ replied Miss Fiendish, ‘but it would help to
give you time to focus your counter spells.’

    The young teacher now had the attention of the whole class. Even
Bertha didn’t look quite so drowsy as usual.

    ‘Now, let me see,’ continued Miss Fiendish. ‘What, for example,
would you do Bertha, if someone turned you into a rabbit?’

    Bertha jumped at being singled out.

    ‘We could make a pie big enough to feed the whole school,’
muttered Fang with an evil chuckle.

    Miss Fiendish silenced him with a glance.

    ‘Uhm, well, er, I’d probably get an uncontrollable urge to eat
carrots, Miss?’ Bertha asked hopefully.

    ‘That’s not exactly what I had in mind,’ replied Miss Fiendish. ‘What
I mean is, have you any idea how you would turn yourself back, or better still,
prevent it from happening in the first place?’

    ‘No, Miss,’ admitted Bertha.

    ‘Anyone?’ asked Miss Fiendish.

    No one knew the answer.

    ‘Well, this is why you will be attending my classes. You will
learn protective spells, spell reversal, and natural remedies to ills and
ailments.’

    Fang groaned.

    ‘Is something wrong, Fang?’ asked the teacher.

    ‘Plants and flowers are for witches to brew,’ he complained. ‘Warlocks
are too powerful to have to do that.’

    ‘And, if someone makes you violently sick, Fang, how powerful
would you be then?’

    Once again, Fang had no reply.

    Gertie was enjoying this class, and it had barely started! She
loved to see Fang put in his place with such ease.

    ‘Right then,’ continued Miss Fiendish. ‘Take these important
points down, class.’

    She turned to her board again and began to write.

1) Be aware of the intentions of others.

2) Always be prepared to use counter actions.

3) Keep your remedies well stocked, and close at hand.

    The only sounds in the class were scribbling pens and Bertha
breathing heavily at the exertion of writing so much. Once everyone had stopped
writing, Miss Fiendish pointed to the first rule.

    ‘Who can tell me what we mean by this?’ she asked.

    ‘Never ignore your sixth sense?’ asked Malicia.

    ‘Yes, good. If you feel something is going to happen to you,
then it probably is. Never ignore the warning. There is however an even better
way to be aware. You all have familiars, yes?’

    Everyone nodded.

    ‘Good, well, your familiar will serve as a kind of psychic radar
for you. Never ignore your familiar if they are acting strangely or out of
character. They could be trying to give you a warning.’

    Gertie thought about Owl. He always acted pretty strangely. She
wondered how she would notice the difference.

    ‘So, if Vlad, my bat, began to circle or something,’ began Fang
trying to redeem himself. ‘Then it might be a warning of danger for me?’

    ‘Yes, Fang, good example. That is exactly the kind of thing I
mean.’

    Fang showed more of his teeth.

    ‘All Jasper ever does is eat,’ Bertha whispered to Gertie.
Gertie had no reply to that. Didn’t Bertha realise it was because that’s all
she ever did?

    ‘So,’ the teacher said, ‘always remember that your familiar is
not just your friend. It is there to protect you too.’

    Gertie considered Owl again. He could barely see her, never mind
protect her. She would have to pay very careful attention to the next two
points, because she didn’t hold out much hope for point one.

    ‘Now, to rule number two,’ Miss Fiendish began. ‘Does anyone
know any counter actions?’

    ‘Hit them before they hit you, and run?’ suggested Ghoul.

    ‘Well, whenever possible, that is one idea,’ agreed Miss
Fiendish, ‘but if a spell is already cast, or someone has the Evil Eye on you,
the only thing you can do is protect yourself before you can strike back.’

    No one escapes Gran’s Evil Eye, thought Gertie proudly.

    ‘As I’m sure you all know, the Evil Eye is the ability to
influence someone else’s well being for the worst, simply by looking at them.
Not everyone can do this, but it is a powerful skill to acquire. Together with
a good grimace, it never fails. As with all negative spells though, I’m sure
you will be pleased to know there is a positive defence. The best defence
against the Evil Eye is to quickly reply with the “Devil’s Horns” before it can
take you over. To make the Devil’s Horns, you simply hold your hand like this.’

    The teacher held up her hand, palm facing the class. She then
held down the middle two fingers of her hand with her thumb, leaving her first
and little finger pointing upwards like horns.

    ‘Aim this gesture at anyone trying to give you the Evil Eye to
win yourself some time to fight back. All try now.’

    At first, Miss Fiendish received some very strange gestures as
the pupils tried to get the Devil’s Horns right. ‘Not those two fingers,’ she
said more than once.

    Gertie got it right straight away, which delighted her.
Especially when her favourite teacher said ‘Excellent, Gertie!’

    Gertie beamed and blushed, all at the same time.

    Bertha’s little finger (which was quite fat so not that little
at all) kept getting caught up with the other two, and bending down.