The Missing Link (2 page)

The witchling put a finger to her lips, and ran to look out the front door. Next she
pressed her ear to each dorm door in turn. Satisfied that they were truly alone, she pulled Carole
deeper into the common room and whispered, "Once, Lucreta be so cantankerous to me that I
consider living with pesky werewolves better than in the same dorm as she. So I set out to learn a
spell that be beyond the skill of any witchling in this here coven. It took a bothersome long time,
too, but eventually I learned it, and learned it well.

"Then I waited fer the next big feasting celebration, 'cause that be when Lucreta pretties
herself up for the village boys. And jest afore she leaves fer the party, I cast a deceptive hex over
her, so that she goes to the big hall not knowing that she be looking all frumpish and foul." Mariat
giggled wickedly. "I ran through the fields fast to get to the feast afore Lucreta, so's I can see the
results and so's I not get blamed for trickstering, and, and..." She doubled over with laughter.
"Lucreta struts into the hall thinking she be the prettiest 'Maid of Blossoms,' but the boys all take
one look and begin screaming and running. It be pure pandemonium!"

"You devil! What happened after?"

"Oh, the boys still be screaming with fright but the witches and village elders be howling
with laughter. Even Head Witch Herling, though she be trying to calm everyone down, be trying not
to laugh her head off at the same time. Herling worked to cast a counter spell to take off my
deception, but I did it well and it not be so easy, even fer her. Eventually though, with the help of
other witches, they removed the hex and the celebration returned to normal."

"Lucreta too? Did she stay for the party?"

"She too, but no boy went near her fer the rest of the night."

"Did she find out it was you?"

"Nope. Well, mostly not. Lucreta be dying to blame me, but Herling says such a spell be
beyond most witches let alone a mere witchling. Herling knows it be me, though."

"She does?"

"The day next, Herling gives me a huge extra chore. I had to sweep out all the flour dust
from the mill house: floors, windows, beams and all. It took me the entire day, and after that I be so
covered with flour that I look as white as a spectrish ghost."

"Did Herling actually say she knew?"

"Not direct to my face, but when she handed me the sweeping broom, she cracks a little
smile and says, 'Some witchlings got too much time on their hands fer their own good.'"

"That was all she said?"

"Yup. Herling knows Lucreta be intolerable to me fer a long time and that she had it
coming. And I think maybe she also be a little proud I be able to cast a tough spell as such."

"Did Lucreta try to get even with you?"

"Nope, opposite in fact. Lucreta not be so bothersome anymore."

Carole grinned. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"Never you, Carole. We be the bestest friends, always."

"So which is your room?"

"It not be down here. Only older witchlings be on the first floor. I live upstairs, where it
be more austere and communal like. It be all part of Westhill training. Work afore play."

Mariat went to the door farthest from the fireplace and knocked loudly. She listened for
a moment before dropping to her belly and squinting underneath. Getting back up, she opened the
door a crack. "This be Lucreta's room," she offered as an explanation.

Mariat peered inside for a moment before she cackled mischievously, "Gots ye." She
reached in and did something Carole couldn't see. "Come and look."

Carole looked at the door and frame, but saw nothing of interest. She gave Mariat a
puzzled glance.

"Look closer."

Carole studied the doorway more closely. Hanging on the frame, in the middle of its
partially collapsed web, was a tiny and nearly transparent spider. She relaxed her vision to sense
the energies around the frame. "I don't see anything except that spider."

"That be it," Mariat beamed at Carole.

"The spider?"

"It be the trap Lucreta set to catch me a-snooping."

Carole studied the spider with greater interest. "It looks like a regular spider to
me."

"Tis so, but Lucreta did spell it to spin its web arount the door frame, so if'n I open the
door, the web breaks. That way Lucreta knows her room's been a-snooped, and figures it be
me."

"Why you?"

"The other witchlings care not a fig 'bout what magic she has in her room, as they all be
more advanced with their training. I be the only witchling with less training than Lucreta."

"But you just broke the web, so now Lucreta will know."

"Not be broke, jest be detached. When we leave, I hooks it back to the door and Lucreta
be none the wiser. Come on in."

Carole hesitated. "We shouldn't. It's not right. You really are wicked, Mariat."

"Door not be locked. Besides, it be necessary." Lucreta grabbed Carole's arm and pulled
her through the doorway.

The room was dripping with living floral garlands. Flowering vines were wrapped
around the window frame, the doorframe, the bed frame and the legs of the desk. Ivy grew up the
walls, hung from the ceiling and cascaded down Lucreta's oak wardrobe. There was very little in the
room that didn't have a blossom or leaf of some sort attached to it.

Despite the abundance of flowers, the fragrance wasn't overpowering, in fact it was
quite subtle and pleasing. Carole inhaled deeply and felt herself relax. "Wow! Lucreta must really
like flowers."

"Stinks aplenty in here." Mariat wrinkled her nose. "All the witches say Lucreta has a
natural gift of green thumbs, and that she be well sought after by all the farming communities when
she be through her training. I like flowers as much as any, but not so this much. This be a big waste
of time.

"Careful not to touch anything," Mariat said, as Carole reached for a blossom. "Might be
that the flower is spelled. Best we don't take any chances."

Carole was intrigued. "How can you tell?"

"There be plenty of ways, but I haven't learnt all of them, yet. Tis lore the older
witchlings won't show me. A coven supposed to be a community where witches help one another,
but witchlings never want to help me. It be they who force me to be a sneak."

Carole had little difficulty understanding why the older girls wanted to keep Mariat
ignorant of their more advanced charms and spells.

Mariat went to Lucreta's desk. It held a few sheets of parchment, some herb sprigs, and
one large beeswax candle. Without touching anything, Mariat angled her head to better read the
material.

A moment later she whooped with delight. "This be one grand spell, Carole. Hoo, hoo,
Lucreta will be mighty miffed to know that I be learning it now." Mariat took a small square of
parchment from her own pocket and scribbled a few hasty notes with a pencil stick. "We best be a
going," she said when she'd folded the note and put it into her skirt pocket. "Don't want to be
caught taking this."

Carole watched as the witchling deftly replaced spider and web back over the door
latch. The spider which had remained idle until that time, immediately returned to the job of
spinning. Mariat gently closed the door the rest of the way.

"See? None be the wiser, 'cept ye and me."

"What's the spell for?" Carole said, as she followed Mariat to the stairs at the far side of
the common room.

"Wait 'til we be in my room." Mariat winked. "Jest to be sure no one overhears."

Each of the two spacious rooms on the second floor contained half-a-dozen beds, each
with its own small wardrobe and nightstand. Only one bed was made up, though its closest
neighbor was piled with folded bedding.

"That one be fer ye." Mariat indicated the mattress with the folded sheets. "Best room in
the whole of witch dorm. I get to look out the windows at the lake and feel coolish breezes in hot
weather, and I be close enough to the chimney to keep plenty warm during the season of
snows."

She pulled out the square of parchment she'd scribbled on, and dropped it onto the bed.
Reaching under her mattress, she pulled out a leather bound book. Its cover was decorated with
colorful drawings and symbols. Before opening the text, she mumbled a few words under her
breath while passing her hand overtop. Inside, written with exquisite penmanship, were what
Carole took to be other spells.

"Your handwriting is beautiful. Did you design the cover too?"

"That be so," Mariat acknowledged shyly.

"Why you're a gifted artist, Mariat."

"I like to make my spell book prettyish. Don't get to do much else in the way of prettying
things up, yet, though it be certain that when I get my own room I won't be going gaudyish like
Lucreta. Still, she gets to do as she wishes, so long as she completes her chores and studies." Mariat
sighed. "Too much choring around Westhill Coven, if'n ye ask me." She turned to an empty page and
slipped the piece of parchment inside. "I'll write the spell in later."

"What's it for?"

"To send messages to one during sleep. Maybe I send Lucreta a nightmarish type of
message of serpents coiling arount her foot, thinking to bite off her big toe."

"You're wicked!" Carole giggled. "Hey, could you send a message to me that way?"

"Don't see why not. Distance shouldn't matter to this type of spell, though it mightn't
travel through different dimensions." Mariat scratched her head. "Nothin fer it but to try some
night. Want me to send ye a wolfish type of dream, Carole?"

"Not on your life! I've had enough of those while still awake."

Mariat mumbled over the spell book and slid it back under her mattress.

"Aren't you worried someone will find it?"

"Naw. None comes up here 'cept Herling, to check on my cleanliness. Lucreta might
snoop now and again, but she not be able to open my book. I put a spell on it that I learnt from
Herling."

"Learned or stole?"

Mariat smiled innocently. "Can't quite remember, but it be a great spell fer keeping the
book closed, in case of snoops. And if the snoop be able to break the spell then the ink will go all
smudgy and drip over their hands and they'll be plenty sorry."

"But you'd lose all your spells, too."

"Not to worry. I've a second copy, hidden someplace else. Herling always says, 'Be no
spell so good as what ye got between yer ears.' So I use my brains and made two books, one fer jest
in case. It be a good way to practice memorizing spells too." Mariat smiled smugly as she stretched
out on her bed.

Carole looked around." How come you're the only one up here?"

"I be the last apprentice to Westhill Coven since the time of the Conundrum." Mariat
rested her hands behind her head. "Used to be that all witchlings be upstairs with me, but one after
t'other moved down below."

"Aren't you lonely?"

"Naw. Remember, with the Conundrum Herling moved us around so much that so we
not even be living here a whole bunch. And when we finally moved back fer good, I loved having
this big space all to myself." Mariat heaved a great sigh. "But not for much longer. Other apprentice
witchlings will be coming for harvest rituals this year and then this place be packed like a chicken
coop. But it be likely that at the same time I get a dorm room next to Lucreta." She made a face.
"Course it means I get to beautify my own room, too, though not with so many flowers as to make
you sneeze."

"So you're graduating to a higher level in the coven?"

"Perhaps, though maybe Herling jest be afraid to risk ruining the new batch of
apprentices with all my wildish ways."

"No," Carole said with a chuckle. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Mariat snorted. "Rest of the coven jest be too old to appreciate good fun be all."

Carole looked over the room. "Why haven't other apprentices joined the coven 'til
now?"

"Not certain." Mariat considered the question a while. "Maybe none be good enough to
meet Westhill standards, or maybe none wants to become a witch. Tis a hard trade, like learning to
be a multitasker, I s'pose. That be a hard trade also, I hear."

"I guess," Carole said. "I found out that most don't make it, and those that do aren't
necessarily treated all that well."

"The good stuff never be easy to get." Mariat sprang from her bed. "Come on Carole, we
check out the mill."

They trooped down the stairs, out into the bright sunshine and over to the mill that was
opposite a large pond.

The air was cool inside the mill and heavy with a musty smell of grain. Carole walked to
the large central grindstone that, along with its wooden gears and support columns, filled the belly
of the building. She passed her hand over the smooth rock. It was a quiet and peaceful place.

"Not be much action here 'til after the grain stores be all full up. That be done soon,
since the villagers bin helping with the harvest, and there be plenty of hustle and bustle to this
place. Plenty of flour dust too, 'specially if ye be the one chored to sweep it out."

"You don't harvest your own crops?"

"Sure, but it be quicker with others to help, and we return the favor and help the
villagers. And if there be too much harvest fer storage, Westhill spreads it arount to other covens
who be more needy."

"You give it away?"

"Sometimes, but usually we barter fer stuff we be needing. Also, we have less need fer
hay then the villagers, since we only keep a few plow ponies about. We not be needing horses fer
travel."

In the light spilling in from the upper windows, Carole saw that the air was actually
laden with dust. She remembered once reading about a mill exploding. It had something to do with
the concentration of flour dust. She looked again at the seemingly harmless motes dancing in the
light. The right amount of dust on a hot enough day and the whole place would just blow up.

She waved her hand, stirring up the dustmotes. Appearances could be so deceiving...like
at the Hub. She wondered how much dust was too much? Surely there was no danger today; most
likely not until after the milling began.