Fate's Magical Mishap

Reverse to Part One

TWO

The test had settled to the back of my mind while I was at work, but I had to pass it before I would be allowed to claim my familiar. I had intended to practice before I had to prove myself in front of the elders, but I arrived home from work to find my mother in a tizzy as she raced around with her hair half done. I barely had time to change into my white dress before my mother was hurrying me out to the car. As we drove to the grove, I hurriedly brushed and braided my hair. At least I didn’t have to do the intricate braids my mother had her hair bound into; mine was a simple single braid.

Exiting the car, my mother made her way around to me and fussed for a moment, making sure my dress was neat. Her vampire deer paced around us, sniffing the air and watching as my mother fussed over me. I would have preferred a pair of hiking boots, but the ritual called for sandals and a white dress. Thankfully we didn’t have to fight our way through the forest, but simply follow the path. Still my feet felt every small stone beneath them.

The clearing was lit with a glow as each of the elders had conjured a witchlight ball to combat the gathering dusk. My mother stepped forward, allowing her own witchlight to join the others. Standing in front of them, I felt as if the collar of my dress was attempting to choke me and I resisted the urge to wipe my sweaty hands on my skirt.

“Who comes before us?” one of the elders intoned and I realized the ritual had started while I was contemplating my future and trying not to throw up.

I straightened up to my full height and said, “Persephone, daughter of Rhea, daughter of Gaia of the Coven Nightshade stands before you.”

“Show us your power,” another elder commanded.

I took a deep breath as I reached for the scrying bowl. Each family had a different test and this had always been our family’s. Since our people had been among the first Oracles, it was considered the best test of our abilities. Even if someone of our line showed an affinity towards something else, we still had to prove we could scry. And this was it. If I wasn’t able to produce something, I would no longer be a contributing member of the Coven. I would still have my family, my sister and mother, but I would not be allowed to continue the steps to gain a familiar and continue practicing magic under the Coven’s protection.

I stared down at the bowl, wondering what, if anything, I would see in the water. As I focused, I could feel the stone heat up in my hands. A minute later there was a loud crack as the vessel sundered in two. I looked up in shock as the two halves fell apart and the water slipped through my fingers.

The elders stared at me in shock.

“This will not do!” thundered one of the elders after a moment. “You shall not gain your familiar!”

My mother stepped forward as if in protest, but her words died before they were born. She was not an elder, even if our family was one of the founding members of the Nightshade Coven; she had no place to protest the ruling. As she seemed to realize this, she bowed her head, accepting the ruling.

I bowed my head also, knowing I couldn’t protest either. When I raised my head again, the elders had disappeared.

My mother sighed as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders, turning me to walk back towards the car. “I’m sure they’ll let you try again, Percy,” she tried to console me.

I shrugged, feeling the weight of her arm against me, before answering, “I’m alright with it, Mama. I really didn’t think I’d do well, but I wasn’t expecting the bowl to break.”

She released me, taking my hands in hers, and examining them. “At least you don’t appear to be injured,” she declared. “Come on. Home with you and we’ll get something to eat.”

“Honestly, Mama, I’d just like to go to bed.”

Wrapping her arm back around me, she kissed the side of my head. “As you wish.”

* * * * * *

A few days later, I slipped quietly from the house. Fog lay thick in the air, making it the perfect time to gather some of the herbs I used. As I moved through the dank air, I adjusted my shawl from around my shoulders to cover my head and hair. As much as I loved the misty outlines of the trees and bushes, I had no wish to deal with frizzy, wet hair when I returned.

As I passed through the black iron gates to the graveyard, I wished a blessing on those that resided within. I had no wish to rile the residents with my trespass. I made my way between the headstones, bestowing greetings as I passed the stones of family members. Finally, I reached my grandmother’s headstone. From my gathering bag, I pulled a small towel, folded into a kneeling mat.

“Hello, Grandmother,” I greeted her in Greek. Growing up, she would refuse to speak anything but Greek to us as she tried to keep our heritage alive and I had soaked up the language like the little sponge I was. Even though we were well aware that she could speak English, the old tongue was supposed to help strengthen our connection to our family and help our magic. I rested a hand on top of her stone before tracing the words with a finger. “I failed,” I told her. “Although I guess no one was really surprised. Apparently, I am strong enough to crack the scrying bowl, but not to create a picture.”

My grandmother had been one of my strongest supporters as I struggled to master the simple spells. Now I watched the wind blow by, disturbing leaves and ruffling the edges of my shawl. I drew it closer, the wind cutting through me as it blew leaves around my knees. “I’m not upset, Grandmother,” I told her. “I’m happy with my herbs and teas.” Leaning forward, I rested my forehead against the stone before sitting back up and wiping the tears from my eyes. “I miss you,” I whispered.

Standing up, I brushed my hand across the stone before picking up my towel. There were a few plants that grew wild in the cemetery so I planned to gather those before heading to the herb garden that the coven curated. As I started to walk away, I heard a feeble meow.

I turned, eyes scanning for the source of the noise. Not finding it, I turned to head back towards the edges of the cemetery; only to hear the noise again. Peering around the nearby tombstones, I finally spied a black ball of fur. Stooping over, I set my hands on the largest part of the lump, surprised when a head separated from the ball and I heard what was clearly a meow.

“You poor thing,” I cooed, running my hands across the fur to check for injuries as well as I could. Finding no obvious ones, I slid my hands under it and picked it up. “Hi, sweetie,” I whispered. “How did you get out here all alone?” I cuddled it against my body, wrapping my shawl around it as it snuggled in my arms. It, a kitten I could now tell, was so small, I wondered why it wasn’t with its mother. “Well, I certainly can’t leave you out here,” I told it. “If you don’t freeze, you’ll starve.” Wondering for a minute, I opened my Sight, but the cat looked the same. There was no glow to show he was connected to me. Wrapping it more securely in my shawl, I began to make my way out of the cemetery. I’d come another day for the herbs, right now I wanted to get this little one home.

My mother was in the kitchen when I entered the house and I headed directly for her. From her spot by the hearth, her vampire deer raised her head and stared at me. “Mama,” I said, catching her attention.

She turned away from the pot on the stove, the spoon continuing to stir whatever she had simmering, her focus completely on me. “I thought you went to gather herbs, Persephone,” she said, even as she crossed the room to see what I was holding.

“I did. I was,” I said, carefully unwrapping the kitten. “It was by Yaya’s grave,” I explained.

Gently, Mother lifted it from my grasp. Running a hand over its fur, she carefully turned it over and spread its back legs. “I’d say he’s around nine weeks old,” she informed me. “But very small. Where did you find him?”

“I was visiting Yaya before I went to gather herbs and when I turned to leave, he cried,” I explained.

She nodded, handing him back to me and watching as he snuggled in under my chin, perfectly content. “It’s acceptable if you want to keep him,” she informed me. “But he’s your responsibility.” She eyed the cat for a minute. “Did you use your Sight to look at him?”

“I did.” I ran my hand down his back and replied, “I didn’t See anything.”

“Just because he’s not your familiar, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy having a friend.”

I nodded as she took him from me, studying him for a minute before handing him back. “What will you call him?”

I considered him for a moment, my own eyes blinking as he stared at me with blue eyes. I had never met a black cat with ice blue eyes before, but it seemed to fit him. He stared at me for a few moments before snuggling back down. “I was thinking Hades,” I said, answering my mother’s question finally.

“Interesting,” she commented before turning back to the stove. She caught the spoon as it cycled back again. “Go get him settled.”

“Yes, Mother,” I answered.

The next few days were spent getting Hades acclimated to the house. He followed me everywhere as I journeyed between the tea house and my home. Soon everyone became accustomed to his presence and even Litavis’s bird stopped squawking at him (it helped that Hades stopped trying to catch the bird pretty swiftly).

I laughed as Hades shook his paw, clearly not sure how he got the toy attached to it. A moment later, he jerked his paw up, and the orange mouse flew through the air. His ice blue eyes widened and he chased after it. I scooped him up when he proudly brought it to me and settled him on my shoulder. “You’re a goof,” I informed him as I reached for the bottle of belladonna. No matter how much I stretched, the jar remained just out of reach. With a frustrated sigh, I wiggled my fingers as if that would make it move.

The jar jumped forward and I leaped out of the way, trying to avoid it smashing into my head.

Instead, it fell towards the ground, pausing about six inches off the ground.

For a moment, I stared at it. Maybe I had knocked it with the tips of my fingers. Or maybe it wasn’t steady on the shelf. After a minute, I had to stop lying to myself. Somehow, I had moved it using magic.

“Did you see that?” I asked Hades. When he just stared at me as if to say he wasn’t impressed, I reached out carefully for the bottle.

It came easily into my hand and I turned my attention back to my potion, trying to ignore what had happened. It had to have been one of the freak inconsistencies of my powers.

* * * * * *

I had just finished the potion and bottled it, all ready to be sold in the tea shop, when my mother entered the workroom. “You’re not ready,” she said.

Scooping Hades up from where he was sprawled, I cradled him as I said, “Ready for what?”

“Gathering,” she reminded me.

I groaned. The last thing I wanted to do was be surrounded by the rest of the coven after my spectacular failure. “Do I have to go?” I asked.

Giving me a look that clearly indicated she didn’t care, she replied, “You have no excuse. You need to go and hold your head up high.” Eying Hades, who had draped himself across my shoulders, she added, “You can take the cat.” Nodding, she turned and swept from the room.

I rubbed Hades’s head as I said, with false cheerfulness, “Did you hear that, Hades? You get to go to a Gathering.” He purred in response.

Thirty minutes later, I had showered, changed (from sweatpants to a peasant blouse and jeans), and was standing in the front hall. Just after I arrived, my mother and Circe joined me.

Circe made a face. “Is that going with us?” She gave Hades a look of disgust.

I pointed at her ferret, which was draped around her shoulders like Hades was around mine. “Is that going with us?”

“Girls,” my mother said and the tone of her voice froze both of us. “Persephone will be bringing the cat and Circe will be bringing her ferret. There will be no more discussion.”

Keeping my grin to myself, I headed out the door.

Onward to Part Three