Mathilda, SuperWitch (23 page)

Summing Up:

The Witches Council (with the unfortunate acronym of the W.C.) left not long after Mom and I went back inside.

They took Agatha Darling’s wand with them.

They talked about taking mine (apparently, a wand can contain the essence of the magic you perform. Given a certain amount of time, you can trace it. If you catch it in, say, a week or so, and the witch doesn’t use it too often to override the old magic, you can find out what spells were cast, yadda, yadda, yadda. But since I didn’t use my wand, they didn’t need to take it).

They expressed some disbelief about my ability (without my wand and as a novice – novice? ha!) to fight off Darling with her wands, both Wiccan and manmade, and all of her thugs.

Instead of waking Rory (who also had school tomorrow and who I didn’t want to be freaked out any more than he already was) I was forced to demonstrate by using the miniscule amount of magic I had stored. I threw a glimmery pink and silver baseball-sized sphere that exploded in silver sparks in the fireplace.

(Must say, pretty pleased with that performance, considering.)

“And that’s with only a few days recuperation,” Gran declared proudly.

The Council all stared in the fireplace then looked at me.

“We’ll be investigating further,” the Crone announced, sounding resigned and moving toward her broomstick.

“
We’ll also need to discuss T
he Witches Dozen,” the Lady stated.

“Why?” Mavis asked, somewhat belligerently.

“We’ve had complaints. Formal complaints,” the Lady told her.

“Why?” Mavis asked, again belligerently.

(Was it me or did it seem the Lady and Mavis didn’t get on?)

“You know why, Mavis. You also know why we need to inquire about them,” the Crone answered.

“Prunella –” Mavis started.

The Crone waved her words away, sighing. “I’m too old for this malarkey.”

She grabbed her broomstick. “Endora, Myra… let’s go. By the time we get back, Seraphina will be awake and we can fill her in before she goes to school and
then
I can finally get to my bed.”

We stood outside, all of us, waiting for them to go (must say, at this point, it was good to have slippers and a robe – damn Ash for always being right).

The W.C. were ready, even had the broomsticks between their legs, when Prunella Craddock, the big cheese Council Witch, the Hag, turned to me and said, “One more thing, Mathilda Honeycutt, you’re suspended from doing magic until –”

Ack!

Suspended from doing magic?!

“You can’t!” That was Mavis.

“You must be joking!” That was Gran.

“I don’t believe it!” That was Mom.

“Hear me out!” the Crone snapped. “Until we come back.”

“When’s that going to be?” I asked (okay, maybe I whined, but what the fuck?)

“Soon. But, if you conjured that,” she pointed to the house, “with your magic dwindled then you’re far too powerful to be let alone until we assess and report on the extremes of your gift –”

“Bureaucracy,” Gran muttered.

“Until we investigate what happened on the Council Estate,” the Crone went on.

“Systematic red tape.” Gran again.

“And until we locate Agatha Darling and listen to her excuse of why she’s…” brief hesitation, “done what she’s done,” the Crone finished.

“Mathilda’s carrying her wand.” That was Ash, being bossy again.

“No.” Hmm, old Prunella didn’t seem to think Ash was all that. “Mavis,” she turned to my aunt, “I trust you to take her wand until our return.”

“She’s carrying her wand.” That was Ash again, his tone the teensiest bit sharper.

The Lady turned sharp eyes on him.

“Sebastian Wilding, you have no authority here,” she put in her two cents.

“I do, Endora, and you know I do. She’s carrying her wand and if she’s fired upon, she’s going to retaliate.”

The Crone butted in. “I’m sorry, young man, but I have to assert the Council’s privilege. By your and her account and our witness, she needs to be assessed. No one with that amount of magic should go about utilizing it until she’s registered.”

“Oh for goodness sake, she’s The Chosen One! What did you expect?” Mom exclaimed.

“If you tell me, Hanna, that you weren’t surprised at the caliber of her Craft, after only, what? Six, seven months of training then I’ll call you a liar,” Prunella retorted.

“Okay, so maybe she’s a little advanced,” Mom allowed.

(Advanced? Yay!!!!)

“Enough of this,” Ash interrupted tersely. “You weren’t there, Prunella, I was. We don’t know what Darling will try next. You never would have expected her to do what she’s already done. Admit it.”

Silence.

Ash kept talking. “If Darling tries something new, something worse, I can’t protect Mathilda against that. You know I can’t. Not if she doesn’t help. She’s already lucky to be alive. I won’t have her handicapped by you taking away her wand.”

Silence.

(I’m already lucky to be alive?
Ack!
)

“She’s carrying her wand,” Ash finished.

Silence again.

(Okay, so I knew I was already lucky to be alive, but for Ash to say it,
out loud
. He’s, like, James Bond and The Saint and Shaft all rolled into one, if he couldn’t protect me…)

More silence while everyone stared at everyone else.

Then…

“Fine,” the Crone gave in, but not good-naturedly. “Mathilda, if you’re fired upon, by magic or manmade evil, you are free to do whatever you need to do to keep yourself safe.”

“And my Spellbounds,” I pushed.

The Crone stared at me, impatience etched in her face.

“And whatever I need to do to keep my Spellbounds safe,” I repeated with added detail.

“And your Spellbounds,” she allowed.

“And Ash. Whatever I need to do to keep Ash safe.”

Ash rolled his eyes heavenward.

“Who’s Ash?” Myra whispered to the Lady.

“Sebastian can take care of himself,” Prunella said with exasperation.

“Oh,” whispered Myra.

“Okay. Well then, anyone else I care about,” I said.

“Listen, young woman, you’re lucky I relented on you and the Spellbounds,” the Crone snapped.

“The coven can take care of themselves, I know, but Lucy at the café is not a witch and if anyone tries to hurt her or anyone I care about…”

I was kinda thinking of Aidan but didn’t want to say it out loud.

“So be it!” shouted Prunella, crankier than ever. She turned to Gran. “Minerva, you can tell she’s from your line. Stubborn, too damn stubborn. All right! So be it! But no magic besides that.”

She looked at me as if daring me to say anything else.

“Thanks,” was all I said.

She glared at me some more and then nodded then looked from one of us to the other.

“Damn Honeycutts,” she grumbled. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Oh goddess, I hoped not.

(I wish people wouldn’t talk like that – too close for comfort.)

Then she finished, “I’ll be back.”

Great. I couldn’t wait.

And with that, they pushed off, making a path toward the moon.

The Month of May

May 1

I had an old boyfriend who played football (defensive end) who told me the best offense was a good defense.

I think that’s a bullshit way of making the boys who were never going to get any of the glory feel better.

This is what I think: If one side of the team sucks then both of them are going to suck because they’ll all be losers.

So, okay, I can handle the defensive.

But I’m feeling offensive.

* * * * *

Josie:

Not happy with me for magically locking her in the house.

Though, she’s kinda in the “all’s well that ends well” frame of mind.

We discussed Rory and he’s hanging in there but still a little freaked (okay, maybe a lot freaked – have woken up with him beside me doing his casket-training-pose every day for weeks now).

We’ve talked to Delia, one of our coven who’s been a midwife for donkey’s years and decided to get a counseling qualification in order to diversify. She’s going to have a couple of sessions with Rory, see if she can help.

* * * * *

Coven (Defense):

My magic is suspended so will have to gather the troops.

Luckily, I’ve got the Honeycutt Coven, so the troops are good troops.

I’ve asked them to put together some protection spells, amulets, etcetera to cover Rory, Josie, Rory’s school, the wood around The Gables and Poet’s Walk. I want to be able, at the flick of anyone’s wand, to see where either of them are. And, in any of those places, I want any kind of malicious magic to be extinguished the minute it’s born.

We consulted Josie and she’s cool with it. No one wants a repeat of last month.

The Gables are in an uproar. Protection spells of that strength that breadth and that distance… well, they require a lot of magic.

Octavia and Fay have set up a command post in the conservatory.

The kitchen’s a mess (and it stinks).

The greenhouse looks like a tornado has swept through it.

Paulina
, Antonia and Rhiannon have commandeered my Tower Room (and my larder).

Lots of dancing in the moonlight and clandestine meetings around boiling caldrons under cover of darkness in various Wiccan hotspots around the village.

Defense covered.

* * * * *

Mavis, Gran, Mom Viv and Su (Offense):

It’s time to gather some intelligence.

The Honeycutt women are going on fact-finding tours.

I want Darling and I want her coven and I want the men who have joined her.

And I want to find out where Douglas Addison fits in with all of this.

Surprisingly, Mom has (eagerly?) volunteered to track and research Addison. Hmm. What’s up with that?

Mavis’s Magic Room is a hive of activity, witches going in, witches going out.

The phones are ringing off the hook.

Barely an hour goes by (day and night) when one of them isn’t sweeping in or out wearing their cloaks and (if night) carrying their broomsticks.

Nothing is coming of it, apparently the witch world is folding in on itself, waiting, watching and keeping their mouths shut.

Probably also deciding which side they’re on.

Offense commenced.

* * * * *

Me:

I went to the library, grabbed the Wiccan White Pages and called everyone in the Edward’s coven – Agatha’s girls.

No one answered their freakin’ phones.

Except one old bitty who said, “Magic? I’m done with that. I see where it’s going and I don’t want any part of it!”

Then she hung up.

Went to
Mathilda’s Register
and tried Eleanora.

“Elly, you there?”

Nothing.

“Elly, Rory was kidnapped and I was struck by lightning.”

Still nothing.

“She used a manmade wand with an electrical cord. Can you believe that?”

Silence.

“The witch world is changing. Elly, I need some answers.”

Zip.

“The W.C. has suspended my magic.”

Nada.

“Elly, girl, I need you to help me.”

“
Don’t call me Elly.”
The words scripted themselves on the blank page and then vanished.

Finally!

“Elly, honey, do you know what happens next? Do you know where I can find Agatha Darling? What’s her connection with Douglas Addison? Who are her henchman? Where do they live?”

“
I’m sorry, Mathilda. I can’t help.”

“Listen, Elly, I know you aren’t supposed to but I’m in a spot. I don’t have magic and the match just got dirty.”

“
I’m sorry.”

“Can’t you give me anything?”

“
Yes, use this time to study, to meditate, to glory in nature.”

“That’s not help.”

“
It is, Mathilda… you have time, use it wisely.”

“I thought I was!”

She ignored me.
“And the next time you come to me, ask the right questions.”