Not finished with this chapter yet, and I'm not quite sure about it...
2
I woke up in my own bed. As soon as my eyes opened, Cassie flung herself at me.
“Oh, Katie, we were so worried about you!”
She was sobbing into my hair. I gently disengaged myself.
“I’m fine. Really. What did they hit me with?”
“Sleeping spell. You wouldn’t stay still long enough for Connie to inject your meds.” Elizabeth sidled into the room.
“Oh.” I rubbed my forehead wearily. “Goddess, I’m so stupid.”
“No one blames you, Katie!” Cassie said anxiously. “It’s not your fault!”
Elizabeth snorted. “Of course it’s her fault. She just can’t help it.”
“You’re not helping much, Elizabeth!” I sat up gingerly.
“Well no one blames you!” Cassie said. “It’s just natural, after what happened-”
“Can we not talk about that?” I said sharply.
“Of course! Sure!” Cassie looked at me anxiously. “Are you sure you should be sitting up?”
“For Goddess’s sake, Cassie, I had a bit of a panic attack, that’s all!” I snapped.
Cassie looked at me with wounded eyes.
Elizabeth smirked. “Here, Katie, help me with this Latin translation.” She pushed a book onto my lap.
Later that night, none of us could sleep. Well Cassie could sleep; she could sleep anywhere. But Elizabeth’s bed was empty. I lay in my bed, staring up at the cracked and patchy ceiling. Tomorrow, we became witches. Of course I had lived in the Witch community for seven years, but this was different. I turned my pillow over to the cold side, and rolled onto my side. It was stupid, and I knew it was stupid, because I could only ever sleep on my front, with my hands folded on my chest and my cheek on the pillow. Eventually, I managed to fall asleep, but my dreams were vivid and feverish. I remember fire and screaming, and a scorching light under my eyelids, but the rest was all bright colours and white noise.
I was woken up the next morning up Ferinn shaking me. “Time to get up!” She sang. I looked at the clock to reassure myself her statement was crazy.
“Ferinn, it’s ten to six. Go back to sleep.”
“Elizabeth’s already up!”
“Cassie’s not.” I muttered, snuggling back into my blankets. “I’m not getting up until she does.”
She threw water on me. Well I don’t know if she threw it or just conjured it, but a few seconds later, I was drenched in icy cold water. I screamed and fell out of my bed. It took five more minutes of bullying from Ferinn to get me dressed in the clothes I had seen previous apprentices wearing, as they pounded past the house, sweaty and exhausted. Black leggings and an orange jumper, the colours of our coven. I was too exhausted to slide down my banister, so I stumbled down the stairs. I rubbed my eyes as I was pouring milk, which made it splash over the cold counter top. We carried out breakfast into the sitting room. I drew my legs up to my chin and wedged my bowl between my legs and tummy, thinking about Kitten, curled up smugly in my bed.
Cassie filed after me, but Elizabeth sat on the floor because she had to be different. Ferinn was the last in, and she shut the door quietly after her. When she turned back to face us, her expression had changed.
“Girls, you’re about to take your first step along the path to becoming Witches. It’s harder than you think, both physically and mentally demanding. Many promising apprentices have failed or stumbled at some point and have been expelled from the course. We want only the best girls to become Witches.” She stopped, though whether to rest her voice or simply for effect, I couldn’t tell. “For the first week, you’ll take part in the normal curriculum. On Sunday, we’ll test you to….evaluate your power, and see if you should continue with the course.” She looked at us meaningfully. “If you fail…” She let the sentence tail off. I looked at my Coven sisters. Elizabeth looked determined. Cassie just looked scared. As for me….I wasn’t even sure how I felt, let alone what my face said.
“Let’s begin.”
I might be nervous, but not even that could stop my curiosity. Our lessons would be in the attic, which had always been firmly locked to us before. The stairs, which at the bottom of the house were majestic and sprawling, grew ever more rickety as we ascended. Our house had five floors. There was the basement, where Ferinn kept her potions, in the damp and cold. We had a normal ground floor, a kitchen, a sitting room, all that stuff. The library took up the second floor, and the gym. Witches need to keep fit. Ferinn lived on the third floor, Cassie, Elizabeth and I on the fourth. On our landing, there was a trap door, inscribed with a five pointed star in white paint.
Ferinn stopped here and turned to face us. “There is usually a potent Fire Hex on this door, however I have removed it for the duration of your training. Up here is where you will take all your lessons. To open it, all you need to do is place your hand on the trapdoor.” She did so. We saw the wood ripple and then with a bang, the trapdoor was flung open. A tiny rope ladder unfurled to hang at our feet.
With mounting curiosity, I watched Ferinn climb up the ladder. My imagination ran away with itself. I imagined battle arenas, rooms stocked with potions ingredients, demons trapped in jars, gibbering to be let out. Finally, it was my turn to climb up. Then rope ladder was actually harder to climb than the others had made it look, so I was out of breath by the time I reached the top. When I slithered out, the others were already charging around, investigating. There were three rooms in the attic. The first was the largest. It was mostly empty spaces, but the walls were lined with weapons. There were little shiny pistols, throwing stars, maces, knives. There was a huge poster that took up half a wall showing different judo holds, and a punching bag swayed threateningly in one corner. And, of course, there were books. There are always books for us witches. Glossy magazines on how to load and fire a gun, ancient books in Italian showing feints with a sword, and even on titled Boxing: a Handbook. These were piled up messily in the corner. This felt ominous to me, so I went on to the next.
This room was like a mini version of a chemistry lab, like a kitchenette to a kitchen. Three moulded plastic stools. Built in sinks. Bunsen burners and test tube racks. While I was examining the contents of a little fridge in one corner (fully stocked with potions ingredients) Elizabeth ran in, laughing. She stopped when she saw the room.
“Eugh. Science.” She said, to no one in particular, and danced out. I opened the door after she had left it swinging (it had a poster titled “Hundred Most Common Fungi Used in Potions” blu-tacked to it) and went into the final room. This was large and square. It had three old fashioned desks in the centre. There was a white board with those squeaky pens at the front. This room, too, was bombarded with posters. The middle desk already had my pencil case and notebook arranged neatly on it. At the back of the room, there was a cat basket, a little bird’s perch and a bowl half-filled with water that I assumed was for Trevor, Elizabeth’s salamander. I sat down on my desk, suddenly tired again. I was starting to have doubts about this whole witch thing.
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