Esme's Revenge

Esme’s Revenge

D. A. Ratliff

“Fungos revelare atramenti.” With a flick of her wand, Esme uttered the spell in frustration. She had searched for over twenty minutes with no luck. Where were those inky mushrooms?

Early morning dew clung to blades of grass and leaves, sparkling in the rising sunlight. Esme relished foraging before daybreak in the forest surrounding Wisteria Hall Academy for Witches and Warlocks. There was quiet and serenity in the hours before noisy students awoke, and the air filled with chatter and squeals. She craved serenity, but that peace of mind proved elusive.

“Ah, there you are.” She sighed, having spotted the reason she was foraging—the inky mushroom. She dropped to her knees onto the soft forest floor and, with a sharp knife, cut the stems of the mottled gray-white mushrooms rimmed by blackened gills. She harvested several mushrooms, stowing them into a small wicker basket until she had enough to extract the ink needed for her spells and divination class.

Esme turned toward the school, catching a glimpse of the bell tower soaring above the treetops, and a sense that evil swirled among the ether was overwhelming. As the days ticked toward All Hallow’s Eve, she worried an ominous fate awaited.

~~~

Esme hurried to the dining hall after a quick stop to leave the mushrooms in her classroom. Sunlight peeked over the forest canopy and streamed through the stained-glass windows. She paused momentarily in the doorway, taking in the images of witches and wizards of old and the fairies, elves, nymphs, and goblins who shared their magical world. Glimmers of colored lights reflected off the students’ faces, and she wondered if they understood the history that illuminated them.

A call of her name, and she turned to find her cohorts, the junior professors of Wisteria Hall, gathered at one table. She sat, and a student kitchen worker appeared out of thin air with a plate of food, set it before her, and vanished.

She noticed Nalia Boatswain, a first-year botany professor, glance at her face and quickly avert her eyes. Esme touched her cheek absently and pulled her hair over her cheekbone. Nalia was new and not accustomed to Esme’s problem. Shaking it off, she flicked her hand toward a table where the Elders, the department heads, and the headmaster sat with a man with thick black hair and, even from across the room, she could tell, piercing green eyes.

“Who is that man with the Elders?”

Tille Olea, who taught Magic History, giggled. “I don’t know, but he’s deliciously handsome. You should have seen him waltz in here with that burgundy cloak swirling about him.” She laughed, glancing at Nalia. “Nalia nearly swooned.”

“I did not.” But Nalia’s bright pink cheeks indicated her embarrassment.

“They are certainly engrossed in serious discussion.”

Maeve Munta, a first-year potions professor who rarely engaged in conversation, spoke, and they turned in unison toward her. “That’s Etienne LePen. He is a member of the Coven Protectorate and of the Circle of the Moon. My mother is a member of the Eternal Council and serves with him.”

A gasp went around the table as the magic world considered the Circle of the Moon Coven the most powerful of all the covens. Esme stared at LePen. “He belongs to the Circle of the Moon? Then, if he is here,” she turned to the others, “something is very wrong.”

The day passed uneventfully. Esme spent time in her class demonstrating how to prepare inky mushrooms for ink harvesting. She placed them in a glass apothecary jar and added a few drops of eucalyptus oil to mask the rotting smell as the gills decayed and then covered the jar. It would take about a week for the mature mushrooms to liquefy into ink. She intended to use the ink to teach her students about ecromancy, a divination art. Today, she discussed the use of witches and spells in literature, one of her favorite topics.

Promptly at dusk, she met her friends for Evensong, a ritual as old as the school. For eons, the various covens taught their children within their ranks, with little interaction between the covens, leading to distrust between the factions. Grand Priestess Martila Huntsman decided that the children of the various covens should attend school together to unite the world of magic. Until the age of fifteen, each coven tutored their children, then the Grand Witch decreed that all attend a joint school at her home, Wisteria Hall, and in the decades since, relationships between the covens improved and even thrived.

Evensong brought them together each evening where they chanted the covenants of the four largest Covens: the Circle of the Moon, the Coven of the Silver Orb, the Raven Circle, and the Coven of the Crescent. Afterward, they attended High Table in the Formal Hall.

Lights out for the students was at ten p.m., and Esme was on duty as a hall monitor that evening. Near midnight, she strolled through the darkened corridor when she heard muffled voices coming from a room. Slipping close, she cracked the door to see several female students standing in a circle, whispering a chant from her earlier lesson on witches in literature. Before she could speak, the chant triggered a memory from ten years before, and the hall about her faded as once again she was sixteen.

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Esme chanted her favorite lines from literature under her breath as she scurried across the stone passageway. The loose buckle on her leather boot rattled as she walked, just like her nerves. Her concentration was not on getting to her Spells class on time, but her thoughts remained centered on paying Olwyn back for the prank she pulled.

The classroom door creaked as she opened it, ruining her chances of sneaking into her seat. She took one step inside before Professor Featherwort, facing the blackboard, spoke.

“Miss Hibbins, as you were absent at roll call, I can only assume the door opening means you are entering. I suggest you get that shoe buckle fixed if you want to sneak around.”

Esme didn’t answer as her cohorts had turned to see who was entering. She saw their faces, stunned momentarily as they took in her appearance, but their silence was brief. When they realized she had been the victim of a spell, her classmates broke into raucous laughter. Her face now resembled a Raggedy Ann doll.

“Class, quiet.” Featherwort spun to admonish her students, only to stop at the sight of Esme’s face. “Oh, Miss Hibbins.” The professor hurried to her. “Class, read ahead to chapter fourteen.” She then took Esme’s arm. “Oh my, this is going to take a lot of incantations to undo. Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

Esme glanced toward Olwyn Osborne, whose face was a mask of satisfaction. Her nemesis was responsible for this, and Esme vowed revenge.

As the memory faded, Esme absently touched her face. The spell cast by Olwyn was so powerful that even the most skillful of wizards had been unable to reverse it. Esme was destined for a life of never knowing when her face would change. A button eye here, a pursed mouth there, a brightly reddened cheek, all remnants of the cartoon a vengeful witch had turned her into. Never be smarter than the one who thinks they are the smartest.

Esme knew she should send the girls scurrying to bed but chose not to and let them have their fun. It could all change in an instant. It certainly had for her. Restless, she headed to the staff lounge where she could make tea, hoping it would calm her soul.

Shadows filled Wisteria Hall in the nighttime. The stately home had grown from its original central building to a sprawling compound as the school grew, adding new wings over the centuries. As she left the dormitory wing and passed into the classroom wing, Esme crossed the spacious rotunda with the bell tower soaring above.

She stopped when she noticed the large crossbars that secured the massive main doors were not in place. Unusual for the late hour, the fact that the doors were not secure caused the skin on the back of her neck to prickle. Something else out of place only added to the tension.

The lounge was on the second floor, and she heard muffled voices as she climbed the stairs. Reaching the top, she saw light spilling from underneath the doorway. She approached and pressed her ear against a crack along the doorframe. The headmaster, Wynfred Jordaine, was speaking.

“Then, we are in agreement. Tomorrow morning, Etienne, you will begin the search for the ancient spell book, the Mysticum Primaris. You cannot possibly search this entire compound before she arrives, but at least we will have a head start. I will announce our guest at breakfast. Make sure all the staff and students are there. We must be diligent. We cannot let her succeed. If our information is correct and she is looking for the most ancient of our spell books, we must be prepared to defend the school at all costs. Now, everyone, we must rest before we face this battle.”

Esme slid behind a tall, leafy potted plant to hide as the doorknob rattled and the door creaked open. Her heart raced as the witches and warlocks, led by the Headmaster and Etienne LePen, started down the stairs. She clamped her hand over her mouth to not cry out when Professor Featherwort stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

“Bea, did you hear something?” Eleanor Averton, Professor of the Defense of the Black Arts, stopped short behind her.

Esme felt Featherwort’s eyes on her, but the professor did not give her away. “No, just a fleeting sensation of something familiar. It’s gone now.”

She remained hidden until she felt secure that she was alone, then ran back to the residence wing as thoughts raced in her head. What was the ancient spell book, and who was ‘she’?

~~~

Before dawn, she sent enchanted notes to her friends, asking them to meet her in the Maze. Nalia was the last to join them and came running into the yew bushes, breathless.

“I… I just saw a large group from the Protectorate pass by the greenhouse and enter the basement door. What’s going on?”

Esme quickly related the events of the early morning hours. “The Protectorate is here to search for an ancient spell book— the Mysticum Primaris. Have any of you heard of it?”

No one had, but Maeve spoke. “I’ll contact my mother. Surely, if this is some ancient artifact, the Eternal Council would know of it.”

“Well, the headmaster said there wasn’t likely enough time to find it before she arrived.”

“Who is she, Esme?” Tillie shrugged. “Who is so powerful that the Elders are wary of her?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out at breakfast.”

~~~

The dining hall was abuzz when Esme and her friends entered. Everyone was dining at once, so they were lucky to find a table to sit at together. They joined Micah Curtis, apprentice to the Black Arts Defense instructor, and Liam Cane, associate professor of Linguistics, at a table by the rear windows.

“Must be an important announcement. Know what it’s about?” Micah asked, but Esme shook her head and said nothing.

Halfway through breakfast, Nalia tugged on Esme’s sleeve and leaned over to whisper. “Look, those little twinkling lights. Those are Fairies. Why are the Fairies here?”

Esme stared out of the window at the numerous small-winged creatures flitting about. Several came close enough to the glass that she could see their features. Fairies were allies of the wizarding world but rarely seen outside the Fairy Kingdom and seldom interacted unless there was trouble. That many Fairies outside of the school meant trouble.

“I don’t know, but this can’t be good.” Esme glanced around the dining hall with growing trepidation. Who was this woman causing so much tension, and why was she coming to Wisteria Hall? When the headmaster rose to speak, she felt her entire body clench, anticipating what would happen next.

“Students, faculty, and staff, I requested a full assembly this morning, three days before All Hallow’s Eve, to welcome a special guest. A guest who is both a benefactor to Wisteria Hall and the grand leader of her coven. She has come to us to bring an array of special events and a fete to the students in celebration. May I present to you, High Priestess Violette Damon.”

An audible gasp sounded across the room as Priestess Damon and her entourage swept into the room. Formidable at well over six feet tall, Damon perpetuated her image further by wearing a remarkably high, pointed silk hat sitting atop her black hair, which she had pulled into a bun. A band of crimson silk encircled the hat, denoting the Raven Circle—a powerful coven known for its reputation with the Dark Arts.

But Damon was not Esme’s focus. Entering the hall with Priestess Damon was Olwyn Osborne. Esme had heard that Olwyn had risen through the ranks of the Raven Circle since she left Wisteria Hall, but she had no idea her nemesis was part of the inner circle. To see her standing beside the High Priestess unnerved her.

Headmaster Jordain led Damon to the dais, and she stood ramrod straight, her piercing black eyes scanning the students. Her deep, melodious voice was mesmerizing when she spoke, and Esme lost herself in the Priestess’s words.

“Students of Wisteria Hall, the children of our four prominent Covens, it is with great honor that I come to you today. As All Hallow’s Eve approaches, it is time for celebration. The Raven Circle felt we must do something to honor the school and, as such, are sponsoring sporting events, academic competitions, a fete on the grounds, and, on All Hallow’s Eve, a gala. Members of my staff are here to begin preparations, and the events will begin in two days. It will be glorious.”

A hand, shaking her shoulder, broke the hold Damon’s voice had on Esme. She turned toward Nalia, “What?”

“Look.” She followed Nalia’s pointed finger to figures in the forest’s tree line. “It’s Etienne and one of the Fairies.”

The Fairy had taken her complete human form. Esme caught a glimpse of gossamer wings before they tucked into her back. She was as tall as Etienne, with dark purple hair cascading down her back, wearing metal-plated battle garments and an ornate sword strapped to her side. She had studied the Bellators, a small sect of Fairies who served as the guardians of the Fairy Kingdom. Esme’s anxiety grew as she watched Etienne and the Fairy walk deeper into the woods.

Breakfast ended, and as they parted for their respective classrooms, Maeve said she would contact her mother as soon as her second class ended. Esme headed for her classroom.

Before her students filed in, she checked on the status of the inky mushrooms she had collected days before. The container was mostly liquid, and she decided the ink would be ready to filter and use in one more day. She replaced the container on the shelf and turned toward her desk when a chuckle startled her.

“My, my, I had heard the exceptional magical skills of the renowned professors here couldn’t reverse my spell. How delightfully delicious that you still have a cute little red nose.”

Esme tamped down her rising anger. “Olwyn. I thought Wisteria Hall had taken on a rather musty smell, and then I realized you were here. You have no business in my classroom, leave.”

Olwyn laughed, her crimson-red hair bouncing. “I have every right to be here. I’m in charge of the booths at the fete, and you and your little novice professors are part of my team. So, you will be working with me. We meet tomorrow after breakfast. Be there.” She turned to leave but stopped. “Oh, I must say, those bright red cheeks go so well with your nose. Ta.”

She knew without looking that her emotions had triggered the spell. As her students filed in for class, the wide-eyed look they gave her confirmed it. It was best that she didn’t look, and she called her class to order.

~~~

Lunch was a dismal affair. The students were certainly happy with the planned All Hallow’s Eve events, but there was a distinct pall over the mood of the professors. Maeve arrived at the table in a rush and whispered.

“We need to talk, but not here. My mother was angry that I asked why Priestess Damon was here and told me to stay away from the Ravens.”

Esme lowered her voice as well. “Did you ask her about the ancient spell book?” She wasn’t prepared for Maeve's wide-eyed look of fear.

“My mother swore me to secrecy, but…” Maeve’s eyes darted about before landing on Esme again. “She said the future of magic is at stake.”

They hurried through lunch and, so no one would notice, parted with plans to meet in the Wildflower Garden gazebo in thirty minutes. Esme arrived first and sat on a curved bench under the thatched roof of the rustic pavilion. The Wildflower Garden was her favorite place on the school grounds. On this late October day, dried plants loaded with seed pods and flashes of colorful chrysanthemums surrounded the gazebo.

One by one, her friends arrived, with Maeve coming last. She plopped onto the bench and crossed her arms across her chest. “This is bad.”

“How bad?” Tillie’s apprehension sounded in her voice.

“Mom said even the Eternal Council doesn’t know. Not much is known about this ancient spell book. Its existence was only a myth, part of the old stories surrounding the Antiqua Magi, until an archeology team searching Casa Luna uncovered a witch's journal from several centuries ago. In it, the witch writes that the oldest spell book, which contains the most evil spells known to magic, exists, but a coven priest hid it in a sacred place, Valdoria.”

Esme’s heart raced. “Valdoria. That’s the old name for this valley, where Wisteria Hall is.”

“So, the spell book is hidden here, and that’s why Priestess Damon is here—to find it?”

Esme nodded. “It must be, Nalia. She is using the festivities to cover her search.”

Maeve grabbed Esme’s arm. “Mom says the witch who wrote the journal was from the Raven Coven. The Ravens think the spell book belongs to them. She said that many council members fear the Ravens’ gaining such power. The journal said the spells in the book could throw the magic world into chaos.”

“Then we have to find the book ourselves. Nalia, I need to ask you. Your father is a member of the Raven Coven. Are you with us?”

“A fair question, Esme. Yes, I’m with you. We lived with my mother’s coven, the Silver Orb’s. Even if my father is a Raven, he has had little to do with his family.”

“Good. We need to find out more about Wisteria Hall and the area. I remember from school that there are ruins on the grounds. We need to find them.”

~~~

After their last classes of the day, Esme and Maeve hurried to the library to research Wisteria Hall. Lugging a stack of old books to a secluded carrel, they poured over the writings until Evensong, where they joined Nalia and Tillie. At dinner, they discussed their findings.

“We didn’t have time to find much, but Maeve found a book about the valley before Willow Hall was built. There was an old castle rumored built by the Faries before they left for the Highlands. There was mention of magical landmarks, a sacred place to the Faries, but no information on where that spot is located.”

Tillie bit her lower lip. “I only teach the history of wizards in my intro classes, but if I remember correctly, one of the reasons this valley has such magical resonance is that it is where the Faires, the Elves, and the Covens have lived together since creation. The Coven War drove the Elves and Fairies from here, and only in the last century have the Fairies returned. The Elves still want nothing to do with us. My point is, there are ancient ruins here where someone could hide a spell book.”

“Do you know the exact location of the ruins?” Maeve glanced at Esme as she asked Tillie.

“I might.”

Esme nodded. “Then we look there.”

Gathering their cloaks and wands, the four young professors followed a trail through the forest toward the ancient stronghold of the Fairies. Little remained of the stone castle. Walls had crumbled over the years, and vegetation crept into what remained of the structure. Using their wands to illuminate the way, Esme took the lead, climbing over a broken wall into what was once a grand hall, the ceiling long collapsed. They searched for passageways and secret openings but found nothing.

They were about to step outside when shouting and the sound of spells cast by wands reached them. Frightened, they attempted to duck behind a pile of rubble when a figure popped out of thin air in front of them—Etienne.

“What are you doing here? We need to get you out.”

“Tell us what’s going on.” Esme grabbed his sleeve.

“The fact that you are here tells me you know what.”

“We know the Ravens are looking for an ancient spell book.”

“And we thought we had been discreet. Okay... I need you to leave.” He whirled and yelled, “Leitha, come.”

The Fairy who was with Etienne in the forest earlier popped into view. “Get them back to the school.”

She nodded, lassoed the young witches with some sparkly filament, and transported them to the school's atrium. She turned to leave, but Esme grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Tell us what is going on. Have you found the book?”

Leitha took a breath. “No, but we discovered Ravens in a part of the school they shouldn’t have been in, and now they are on the offensive. They have taken Headmaster Jordaine and the Elders as hostages. We must find that book before they do. Now, go inside and hide. We don’t have the time or the resources to protect you. You will have to protect yourselves.” With that, Leitha reverted to her tiny stage and flitted off.

“We have to help, Esme. They have the Elders.”

Maeve shrugged. “We don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe we do. Follow me, I have an idea.” Esme ran into the school, the others on her heels.

“Luminata.” Esme cast the spell to turn on the lights in her classroom. She hurried to the lab bench. “It’s a long shot, but…” she reached for the apothecary jar of inky mushrooms, now filled with a black liquid. “There is a new divination technique called ecromancy. It uses ink from the inky mushroom to answer questions put to it.”

They watched silently as Esme filled a fountain pen with black ink from the jar. She then took a page of high-quality paper and wrote her name and a question.

“What did you ask it?”

“Where is the Mysticum Primaris hidden?” Esme turned back to the paper and turned it over. She dropped blobs of ink until her intuition told her to stop at seven. She carefully folded the paper into fours and held it in her left hand, squeezing it as hard as possible. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the paper to see the impression.

The four witches held their breath as the image appeared. It looked like an indistinguishable blob. Esme sighed. “I knew it was a long shot, but my Divination professor at Wizards University swears it works.” She laid the paper onto the lab bench, dejected.

As they fell silent, they heard shouting within the school and the sounds of spells emitting from wands. Nalia ran to the classroom door. “They’re attacking. The students, we must protect the students.”

“Wait.” They turned to see Tillie holding the paper. “Come with me. I need to check something.”

They followed Tillie to her classroom, where she pulled a worn leather-bound book from a shelf. She rapidly flipped through the pages until she came to an illustration, which she held up with the ink spot beside it. “Look.”

The blob of ink had dried further and formed a triangular image. The illustration in the book was the same shape. “It’s the Well of Mists statue on the old Elven grounds, not on the ancient land of the Fairies.”

The shouting was getting closer. Tillie handed the inkblot to Esme. “Go find the book and take Maeve with you. She’s better at wand defense. Nalia and I will go to the students.”

Esme looked at Maeve. “Do you know where this is?”

“Yes.”

“Then take us.”

Maeve took Esme’s hand and uttered, “Transportari locus.” Before Esme could blink, they were at the gate to the abandoned Elven grounds. They pushed open the rusty gate and ran down the stone path toward the Elven compound, where before the main entrance stood the towering triangular statue, so much like the ink spot.

“This is it, Esme.” Maeve peered over the edge. “It looks deep. Do you know a spell to retrieve it?”

“We will see.” Esme held her wand over the well. “Accio liber ab antiquo imperio.” Nothing. She repeated it, and again, nothing. She turned to Maeve to admit defeat, but gurgling came from the well before she could speak, the sound building until a large plume of water erupted into the night air. Esme and Maeve stood stunned as a thick tome encrusted in gold and jewels fell at their feet with a thud.

“Esme, you did…” Maeve never finished as laughter sounded behind them. They turned to find Olwyn standing with several Ravens restraining Tillie and Nalia. Olwyn laughed as she approached and picked up the Mysticum Primaris.

“When I saw your little friends without you, I assumed you’d stuck your nose in my business like you did years ago. So, we followed you, and look, we have what we wanted.”

Maeve spat at her. “You and Priestess Damon will never get away with this.”

Olwyn cackled. “That old hag? She has been a pawn in my hand. One little spell, and she does whatever I wish. I’m the mastermind here, and don’t you forget it.” She turned, and with a nod, her minions grabbed Esme and Maeve, and the group vanished.

~~~

Esme dropped to the stone floor as the school rotunda appeared. Her heart seized as she realized Olwyn’s henchmen had captured the faculty and staff. She struggled to her feet. “Olwyn, you will not get away with this.”

“Oh, my little Raggedy Ann, I already have. I shall rule the magic kingdom with this book as there are no more powerful spells than in its pages.”

Professor Featherwort stepped forward. “That is not true, Olwyn. There is no stronger spell than a simple one uttered by someone evil touched.”

“I will be happy to show you evil, witch.”

Featherwort turned to Esme. “You have the power to turn off her light and keep her in darkness to cast no more spells. Just let the words come.”

Esme stammered. “I—I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do. She tried to humiliate you because she knew you were the stronger witch. She did this to you to keep you from your true power. Put out the light, enclose her in darkness.”

Esme turned toward Olwyn, who continued to laugh and taunt her. “You, with a bright red nose and button eyes, think you can cast a spell on me?” She laughed wildly.

Closing her eyes, Esme began to chant.

Forevermore the midnight hour

Darkened night

Blackened candle burning bright

Bring an end, my pain demands

Make dark her day on my command

Forevermore the midnight hour

Olwyn continued to laugh, but her voice began to fade. Panic set in as her corporal body became transparent and vanished into another realm. The Mysticum Primaris fell to the rotunda floor.

~~~

On the morning of All Hallows Day, Esme walked into the dining hall to join her friends for breakfast. The most important thing was that her face was her own after many years. Casting the darkness spell on Olwyn had reversed the Raggedy Ann spell cast on her.

Tillie grinned. “I must say, you look different. No changing doll features.”

“I am forever grateful for that.”

Nalia pointed to Priestess Damon. “What’s going to happen to her?”

“Nothing from what the headmaster said. She and the other Ravens were under a spell cast by Olwyn. It seems Olwyn found an old dark spell book in her grandmother’s attic and was using those spells to control everyone. The headmaster told me that the Eternal Council will retrieve Olwyn from the vanquished realm after they review and secure the Mysticum Primaris. The spells it contains are rooted in evil, and they must ensure the book does not fall into the wrong hands.”

Maeve, who rarely enjoyed parties, grinned. “At least we have a fancy dinner and costume ball tonight. I’m going as Cinderella. Esme, you?”

Esme chuckled. “Haven’t decided.” She touched her face. “But I can assure you I won’t be Raggedy Ann.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Resources:

Quote: Macbeth Act Four, Scene One, Author William Shakespeare https://shakespearequotesandplays.com/macbeth-2/important-macbeth-quotes/double-double-toil-and-trouble-analysis

Witchy Ink: https://aminoapps.com/c/witches-sanctuary/page/blog/witches-ink-inky-cap-mushroom/Jakr_GZCdur0D1o3B08n4kVW75vxn7Da36

Images are free use and require no attribution—image by planet_fox from Pixabay.