The Skinwalker's Apprentice (5 page)

Easthampton
, New York

January
1658

Margo was on her way to The Priestess’s house with a heart like lead. She was worried that she still had not found her gift. She was no better or worse at one thing than another, and she wondered if she’d ever figure out who she was meant to be.

The night before, her sister Hannah, at only five-years-old, had shown signs of becoming a seer. Their grandparents had been arguing all morning, as Mary was tearing the house apart looking for her lucky toad’s leg. 

“I need slime from its skin, there is still some left!” shouted Mary as she pointed at barrels and boxes with her wand, sending them flying across the room and making an enormous ruckus.

“You’re making a mess, woman,” scowled Tom, before pulling out his own wand, a skinny redwood stick with an eye carved into its base.

He stood up from his chair with a huff, his body creaking like a rusted seesaw. The old man’s back was hunched over, much like his wife’s, and his skin had the same leathery look of a field worker. After so many years of marriage, they had begun to look alike.

He pointed his wand emphatically at the ceiling.

“
Aparèixer
toads,” he said exasperatedly. 

Suddenly, small green legs began to spring from the ceiling, and then toads began to drop, ten, twenty, and then fifty at a time. The house was overrun, and Hannah squealed in delight, as the slimy creatures jumped on her head and onto her still bickering grandparents.

“WHAT have you done now, old man?” screeched Mary, still flinging pots and pans across the room with her wand, searching for her lucky toad’s foot.

“I’m trying to help you, you wanted a toad foot for slime, well, take your pick,” he said, motioning around the room with his hands as a toad hopped right into his palm.

“And I’d be careful who I called old if I were you,” he said, pinching his lips, opening one eye wide and squinting the other in a gesture that was supposed to look threatening. 

Mary’s ears were red, her nostrils flared.

“There you go again, so I’m a few hundred years older and suddenly I’m shriveled up! I’ll show you! You can have your sorry little jumpers, I need my specific lucky toad leg from 1625,” pouted the old woman. 

They were still going on like that, when Margo walked in from her day’s lessons.

“What have you done?” asked a concerned Margo. She tip-toed over to Hannah, taking care not to crush any overgrown polliwogs underfoot, and picked the little girl up, placing her on their bed.

Margo threw both her hands out as if she were releasing handfuls of powder into the air and the back door of their house opened. She took her wand from her skirt pocket, and then pointing it at the ceiling yelled, “
SEAL SOSTRE
.”

The storm of toads slowed to a trickle, and soon only a handful of legs poked out from their ceiling. The few remaining critters fell with a plop to the floor, and when they had all dropped, Margo pointed her wand in their general direction and made a circular motion.

“
Lumneta
,” she said calmly, gathering them in a net of light. The suspended toads floated through the room, whirling slowly, and croaking as they did. Before long, the house was free of the amphibians, and Margo was surveying the mess around her.

Her lip twitched, as she tried her hardest not to laugh. Her grandmother was now splayed out beneath her bed, still searching, her grandfather pulling at her legs.

“Grandmother’s falling!” said Hannah.

“What?” asked Margo, swirling around to face her sister, “No, Hannah, Grandma is okay,” she reassured her with a smile.

“Look!” yelled Hannah. Margo turned to look at her grandparents, Tom had managed to get Mary out from under the bed, and they were now scowling at each other with eyes like daggers. Mary stepped away from Tom, not noticing that a stray toad had leaped in her path. Before she could step around it, the old witch lost her footing, and was heading straight for the wooden floor, enormous nose first.

“
SUSPENDR
E,” shrieked Margo, pointing her wand at her grandmother. The old woman stopped mid-fall. Mary’s eyes opened wide, looking at her twisted nose leading the way back up as she was placed upright by Margo’s wand.

Margo breathed out in relief before realizing what had just happened.

“Hannah…you saw Grandmother fall?” she asked her sister, who nodded shyly in reply.

“WEEEEHAAAAA,” whooped her grandparents, swooping in to grab Hannah, the two of them hugging her at the same time.

“Another Seer in the family,” Mary choked up, as Margo smiled proudly at her sister. She would not have admitted it, and it shamed her to even think it, but she was jealous. Despite her masterful performance a moment before, she would never have been able to command a legion of toads out of their house and save her grandmother from a painful fall before; Margo still felt a hollow spot in the pit of her stomach. She too wanted to find her gift, to have a purpose in the magic world, to have her family be proud of her.

The next day, she was distracted as The Priestess attempted to give her a lesson in alchemy.

Margo read out loud from the Tabula Smaragdina, an ancient text which The Priestess had explained was the basis for alchemy. The two witches were in the library room of the stone house, books lining three of the walls, the third made up of floor to ceiling windows. Candles surrounded them, and the curtains were drawn, giving the room a warm glow. Margo sat in a plush lavender armchair, the text floating above her face on a yellowing scroll of parchment as The Priestess circled her, listening intently.

“’Tis true without lying, certain and most true. That which is below is like that which is above and that which is above is like that which is below to do the miracles of one only thing,” read Margo, not understanding a bit of it, her mind wandering over to the prior day’s events. The Priestess noticed the glassy look in Margo’s eyes and put her hand beneath Margo’s chin, the scroll disappearing in a puff of white smoke as she did.

“Shall we continue to pretend your mind is not clouded, or will you tell me what the matter is?” she asked kindly.

Margo sighed; she truly could not get one thing past her teacher.

“Priestess, when did you discover your gift?” she asked. 

The Priestess sat next to Margo, and looked away as if deep in thought.

“I was a few years younger than you are now, I suppose. That was quite a long time ago. Why?”

“Well, my sister Hannah is but five years old and already she is showing signs of being a Seer. I wonder, if my own gift will manifest soon,” said Margo wringing her hands nervously.

“It is normal to feel this way, Margo, but I assure you, your time
will
come,” reassured The Priestess. “Your apprenticeship has so far been a tremendous success. Why do you choose to focus on the one thing you cannot control? You are talented, and have proven yourself quite capable.” 

Margo nodded, but her teacher’s words did little to console her, and it was evident by the troubled look on her face.

“If you do not believe me, I will show you,” said The Priestess sternly, a spark of light flashing as she snapped her fingers. Suddenly Margo was cloaked in darkness, and she stood up in alarm, pulling her wand out. The Priestess was unpredictable and Margo had learned to be ready for anything. There was nothing but dead silence and impossible darkness around her, so Margo stood perfectly still, knowing one false move could send her hurtling off an unseen cliff or into the lair of some foul beast. She waited patiently, until a small ray of light peeked out from an enclosure above her. Margo strained to see where the light was coming from, keeping her body deadly still as she did. She felt the ground beneath her soften, and she delicately dug one foot in deeper, feeling the unmistakable cushion of dirt beneath her. Margo breathed in deeply, and could smell the scent of freshly fallen rain mixed with mud. Margo knew she was in the middle of the forest. She looked up again as spears of light made their way through what she could now see was a canopy of olive-colored leaves.

Although the woods surrounding her village were covered in ice, the forest behind the stone house had a mind of its own. It was usually a lush green, and today was no exception.

Margo considered using the illumination charm to light her way, despite the light peeking through above her, the blackness surrounding her was still thick. To make matters worse, fog hung low around the trees, making it close to impossible for Margo to see at all. Before she could pull out her wand, a burst of cold air streaked past her, chilling her down to her bones. Margo looked around cautiously, and went to grab her wand from her skirt waist again when another frigid wind stopped her, this time it felt as if a block of ice had scraped against her skin, knocking the air out of her as it did. Margo inhaled deeply, her side burning from the cold. She touched her neck and felt dots of blood forming all along her collarbone. She touched the area where her copper necklace should have been,
it was there just a moment ago
, she thought to herself, but now it was gone. Whatever, or whoever, had knocked into her, had taken it with them.

“Drat,” she whispered. She had planned on riding above the fog to survey her surroundings, but now she’d have to think of something else, and quickly.

Before she could gather her thoughts, Margo was knocked sideways, her body thrown ten feet and landing with a thud against a tree. Tiny stars danced before her eyes, as she struggled to steady herself. The forest around her spun like a top, and her head pounded like a blacksmith’s hammer. Margo pressed her back against the tree, and placed her fingers on the roots of the trees, closing her eyes.

“You must always remember that our magic, and our world, has its foundation in nature. It courses through every one of us. If you remember that, there is little that can harm you.”

Margo could almost hear The Priestess’s words inside her head as she traced the cracked bark above the tree roots, and forced herself to focus. A moss-colored light oozed off Margo’s skin, as her body began to fuse with the tree, bark cascading down her body and covering her flesh like wooden shingles.  Margo could see the wind approaching this time, the leaves on the ground rustling violently as it did. The wind seemed to be looking for her, dashing to the left and right, and then stopping suddenly. From her vantage point, Margo could now see the gale took the shape of a woman: it was The Priestess herself.  The Priestess zoomed past Margo, and this time when the vicious air whipped past her, she was unaffected. She opened her eyes and smirked, but knew whatever trick her teacher conjured up next, would be a deadly one. She stood up from her hiding place against the tree and her skin returned to its normal alabaster shade. She ran faster than a bullet in the opposite direction of The Priestess, scooping twigs and dried leaves as she did. She molded the foliage with her hands, sparks of light shooting from her fingers, as she assembled a makeshift broom. Without slowing down, she jumped on her creation and rose up into the air, circling the trees as she did. She heard the wind howl behind her, and she picked up her speed, branches pricking her face as she hurtled through the forest. Margo had become quite capable with a broom. She knew she couldn’t run forever, but she needed at least a few moments to ready herself for battle. She looked behind her and could tell The Priestess was still far enough away that she could not see Margo. She took her wand from her skirt pocket, pointing it to her own chest and chanting, “Of fire, and ice, make one of me thrice.”

Margo pointed her wand to her left, and a white vapor slithered from the stick, materializing into a vision that looked exactly like Margo. She did the same on the other side, and this time a stream of fire shot out, creating another clone of the witch. The three Margos split in opposite directions, and she hoped it would be enough to hold The Priestess off for at least a few minutes.

She found the clearing she had been searching for and hit the ground running. She stood at the very center of the glade, casting a circle of protection with her wand. She went over her plan of attack, ignoring her trembling hands and trying her hardest not to think of the fear sinking into the pit of her stomach. She scooped two smooth, black stones from a red velvet pouch she had fastened to a rope around her waist. She dropped one to her left, and the other to her right, mouthing a spell silently as she did.

The forest around her was noiseless, and Margo did not hear when The Priestess landed right behind her, but a small ripple forming in her dome of protection gave her just enough warning.

“
OCCULTO
,” she shouted, waving her wand in a circle above her head just as The Priestess howled, “
IGNARO
,” a spell that would have rendered Margo unconscious.

But she was too late and Margo had already vanished. Margo’s heart raced, as she realized what she’d just done. She had gotten away from her teacher not once, but twice. She knew there was no time for celebration, she had heard the frustration in The Priestess’s voice right before she disappeared, and she knew she was in for her most difficult lesson yet.

She silently watched from her perch in the trees, as The Priestess cast trap after trap for her. She knew she’d have to strike soon, or the battle that awaited her would only become grizzlier.