The Young Witch's Chronicles: Legacy Part 2

"Do you think Greg would try to...?"

Kel let out a snort of laughter. "He's a guy isn't he?"

"Yes, but..." She wasn't sure what she had expected, but it wasn't that.

Kelli turned into the school parking lot. "Don't worry. We'll be there in case you need us." She parked and swung her door open. "I can teach you some karate moves." She mimed an exaggerated defensive pose.

With Kelli's dire warning ringing in her ears, Mercy climbed out of the car and tromped up the steps behind her best friends. She went to her locker and shoved her backpack inside, only taking her book and homework for first period. She closed her locker and gave the combination lock a spin.

Lindy and her friends were huddled together in the crowded hallway. She looked up to make a face at Mercy as she squeezed past.

And then there was Greg.

He flashed a grin. "Hey Mercy." He looked great. His hair was still damp from the shower and he was wearing his dark blue hoodie. It was her favorite.

"Hey Greg." Her voice came out a whisper. She smiled shyly and went to her cla.s.s, slipping into her seat beside Felicity. She hoped Gran would return by the time she got home from school.

She got through each of her cla.s.ses, but her mind was on her grandmother.

In Gym cla.s.s, Lindy threw the basketball right at her. "Heads up, Brainiac! Look where you're going." She laughed her totally dumb donkey bray laugh and her friends joined in, Becca squawking like a goose and Amy making little clucking noises with her tongue.

Mercy felt her cheeks redden. "You don't have to be so mean!"

Lindy made whining sounds, mocking her words. Becca snorted derisively and Amy just smirked.

"I hope you all get what you deserve!" Mercy tried not to cry, but tears filled her eyes. She took a deep breath, turning away before they rolled down her cheeks. The basketball bounced off her head as the entire cla.s.s burst into laughter. She ran out of the gym and changed back into her school clothes. When the bell rang, she hurried to homeroom, her last cla.s.s, embarra.s.sed and angry, wis.h.i.+ng she was far away. Mostly wis.h.i.+ng Lindy, Amy and Becca were far away.

Maybe out in a field somewhere. She swept into cla.s.s and slid into her usual seat and sat with her hands clasped tightly on top of her desk, not raising her eyes.

When Lindy, Amy and Becca made their appearance, she cringed. I wish you would just go away.

Greg strode down the aisle and tossed his backpack under the seat beside her. "Hey!"

She took a deep breath. "Hey." She managed a tremulous smile. She hoped he hadn't heard about the gym cla.s.s. He didn't say anything. Just sat beside her.

When Felicity came to cla.s.s, she was careful to ease past Lindy and her friends, managing to evade the foot stuck out in the aisle. When she spotted Greg sitting beside Mercy, she froze, looking confused. She started to take a different seat, but Mercy motioned her to sit on the other side of her.

Felicity took the seat beside Mercy, keeping her eyes carefully averted. "Hi Mercy. Hi Greg," she mumbled.

"Hey Felicity." Greg spread his fingers in a greeting.

The bell rang and Mercy tried to concentrate on the teacher's words, but she was painfully aware of the great number of times Lindy and her friends glanced back at her, glaring when they met her gaze.

Mercy contented herself by imagining them being whisked far, far away to some other dimension. Someplace where they couldn't hurt anyone.

When cla.s.s was over, Greg walked her to her locker and grabbed her threadbare backpack, hooking it over his shoulder. He grinned and fell into step beside her as they headed for the main door. The hall filled with noisy, jostling students. Felicity caught up with them and walked behind her to the exit.

They walked in silence, but it was strangely comforting. Somehow, being flanked by Greg and Felicity made her feel safe...almost invincible.

Greg walked them out to Kelli's car and thumped her door with his hand after he had closed her inside. He winked and turned to hook up with his baseball buds.

Felicity slid into the back seat beside her cello. "He must really like you. He sure is staking his claim."

Kelli let out a gurgle of glee. "Yep! You're branded now."

The drive home was filled with blissful chatter from Kelli and Felicity, but Mercy remained deep in thought. She was being bullied by three hideous girls and seemed to be helpless to defend herself. The fact that Greg liked her made it a little more bearable, but she thought the situation could only get worse. In fact, it seemed to have escalated since Greg first started paying attention to her. Maybe that's it. Maybe Lindy is jealous because Greg likes me.

When Mercy entered the empty house, the silence consumed her...p.r.i.c.kled her skin. She wanted to tell Gran about her horrible day. She wanted to feel her grandmother's arms enfolding her in a hug. And she wanted to eat an after school snack her Gran usually had waiting on the table.

I miss you Gran. Please come home.

She opened a can of soup and heated it in the microwave. The heaviness in her chest was almost unbearable. Still, she thought she should try to do as Gran wished and carry on as normal, whatever that was. She carried her soup to the table and pulled out the chair. Alistair leaped onto the other chair and sat, staring at her. She could almost hear him miaowing to her, although he remained silent. Where is Gran? Am I experiencing a Martian Mind Meld with a cat?

"I don't know where she is," she said aloud, but Alistair continued to interrogate her with his huge emerald green eyes.

She lifted the spoon and forced herself to choke down the contents of the bowl bite-by-bite while Alastair maintained his silent scrutiny. "There...Are you satisfied?"

He jumped down from the chair and made himself comfortable by curling up in the overstuffed chair. Only the tip of his tail flipped back and forth to hint at his aggravation.

Mercy cleared the table and washed her dishes, then sat at the same table to finish her homework. She arranged her books and papers in her backpack and left it by the door so she could grab it in the morning on her way to meet the girls.

She picked up the remote to turn on the television. Scanning the programs, nothing drew her interest until she happened on a channel she hadn't noticed before. WTC? Maybe it was something new. She turned up the sound and settled on the sofa to get her mind off her present situation.

Two girls about her own age were having some sort of a dialogue. The dark haired one was talking..."So this is your first a.s.signment?"

The other girl nodded. "Yes, I've read through the chapter in the handbook, but this is my first actual a.s.signment. I've never divined anything before."

Alistair startled her by jumping up beside her. She stroked her hand down his back and he settled into her lap.

"Let's get started then." The dark-haired girl removed a cloth covering several items on top of a table. "Go ahead and select an object and let's see if you can divine something from it."

The other girl let her hand graze over the objects and selected a pocket watch. She held it in both hands and closed her eyes. "I'm not getting anything."

"Just relax and let the object speak to you."

Mercy stroked Alistair, touching his collar. There was a medallion hanging from it that Gran had placed there. When she had asked about it, Gran said a handsome cat deserved a handsome adornment and added that it was an antique. Mercy touched the medallion and noticed the scrollwork design. It appeared to be pewter or maybe silver with the patina of age. It warmed in her hand reminding her of Gran. Then it changed, grew hotter and then cold.

I am here for you, M'lady...

She heard it as though it had been spoken aloud. Startled, she released the medallion and glanced around, but there was only the cat. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She muted the sound on the television. "Hallo?..." Alistair's loud purr was the only response.

She drew a deep breath and released it. Geez! I'm imagining things. Getting spooked over nothing. Her fingers trembled like aspen leaves in the breeze. Alistair reached out a paw to touch her hand. Smiling she stroked his head. He must miss Gran too. She rubbed his ears and he turned on his back. His medallion gleamed silver against the black fur. She touched it with one finger. Hot again.

"M'lady...if you would but concentrate for the moment..."

A whisper of alarm scurried down her spine. "Alistair! Are you speaking to me?"

"Of course, M'lady. There's no one else here." He gazed at her with his eyes narrowed to slits. His voice came out raspy, like his purrs.

"Oooh..." She drew the word out until it died in a whisper. "It's the medallion! I can hear you through the medallion."

"Well..." he purred. "It's just because you're new. Lavinia hears me quite well without it."

"Lav...You mean Gran?"

"Yes, my dear Lavinia. I have been entrusted with her protection."

Mercy let out a derisive snort. "Well, you're doing a heckuva job of that!"

"Excuse me?" He looked down his silky nose at her.

"If you're protecting her, where is she? Why hasn't she gotten in touch with me?" Mercy wanted to scream at him, but it wasn't his fault...And she realized that, after all, he was just a cat.

"Just a cat!" He twisted around in her arms, glaring at her. "I say! I am most definitely not just a cat. I'll have you know that my bloodline goes back to Sir Lancelot."

"Sir Lancelot? That's silly. He was a knight and you're a..."

"Cat?" The emerald eyes regarded her solemnly.

She swallowed hard. "I see...Have you always been a...?"

"Cat?" he repeated. "It's sufficient to say that I have been many things...and I will probably be many more before I'm done."

"Can you tell me where my grandmother is?" She felt the tears p.r.i.c.kling her eyes again. "I mean, when will she come back?"

His purr came out rich and velvety. "Who said she was missing?"

She gestured around the room. "Do you see her anywhere?"

"Yes." He leapt from her lap and pushed through a narrow opening in the doorway.

"Wait! You've got to tell me..." But he was gone. She sank back down on the sofa and unmuted the television.

"You're doing quite well for your first attempt at divining. Practice, practice, practice." The dark-haired woman turned to the camera. "And that brings us to the end of this day's lesson. This is Darynda your hostess on WTC, the Witches Training Channel."

Mercy sat straight up. "Wait a minute! Witch's Training Channel?"

"Yes, Mercy. Tune in again for your lesson, and in the meantime, practice your divining. There will be a quiz." The screen went dark.

"But wait!" She flipped the television back on and found Darynda glowering at her.

"What?"

"I haven't had a lesson. What lesson are you talking about?"

Darynda was on her feet with her hands fisted on her hips. "Well, duh! The lesson on divining. Weren't you paying attention? Seriously, I can only do so much. You have to make a little effort here."

"I...uh, I was having a conversation with a...cat."

"Not my problem." She glanced at her watch. "Look, I'm on overtime here. You gotta get with the program."

"I will, but..." Mercy waved her hands in a helpless gesture. "It's just that everything is happening at once. I had no idea I was a witch and all this...is just so..." She realized that Darynda had her cell phone to her ear. "h.e.l.lo? I'm talking to you..."

Darynda slid her phone into her pocket. "Look, the lesson is over. I suggest you practice divining and read your handbook."

"Handbook! What handbook? I don't have a handbook."

Darynda made a groaning noise. "Do I have to do everything around here?" She spoke to someone off camera who commented back in an unintelligible mumble. Darynda turned back to the camera. "Check your mailbox and tune in next week when I will introduce simple elixirs." The screen started to darken.

"Wait!" Mercy shrieked. "What is the Witch's Training Channel?"

Darynda rolled her eyes. "The WTC is THE home-schooling program for future witches. You, young lady are officially a Witch-in-Training, or a WIT. The Witch's Training Channel was developed to provide standardized education for future witches." She gave a slight shake of her head as though she had never encountered such a limp brain. "Your responsibility is to pay attention, read your handbook and practice your lessons. Good-bye." The screen went to black with a vengeance.

Feeling dazed, Mercy sat for a few minutes contemplating all that had happened that afternoon. She had talked to a cat who certainly knew a lot more than he was saying. Her conversation with Alistair had been strangely comforting, though she had learned very little about her grandmother's mysterious departure.

But her disagreement with Darynda had been disheartening. She felt as though she was totally lost like a paper boat tossing about on a stormy sea. She had no idea which direction she was heading, nor her final destination.

She walked out to the mailbox on the off chance that something had been delivered and found a large manila envelope with her name on it. The return address just said WTC but there were no stamps on it. Mercy carried it inside and tore the paper off. A pale green manual slid out onto the table. It was thick and appeared to be crammed with information. She sighed and turned her back on it, feeling a little guilty. Then, as if giant hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, she turned back. "Okay!" she said aloud. She flipped through the pages and read the lesson on divining. She tried to recall some of Darynda's televised cla.s.s.

Mercy had missed most of it, but she gathered she should try to practice in case there was a test. She looked around for an appropriate object and saw Gran's big floppy garden hat. A wave of loneliness washed through her. She lifted the hat in both hands and clutched it to her chest. A waft of her grandmother's lavender fragrance floated in the air. On impulse, she crammed the hat on her head, feeling at once silly and futile.

The other girl had held the object and tried to divine something from it. What was it Darynda said? Are there magic words or something?

Mercy pulled down the sides of the floppy hat. Help me, Gran. I need you. She jumped when an electric tingle slithered down her spine. She could see Gran plain as day. She was surrounded by the oddest creatures. There was a peculiar colored horse. A purplish color she had never seen before. And there was a strange small creature that looked like a tiny man. An even tinier winged creature flew in circles around her head. Gran looked happy.

Gran looks happy. How can she be so happy when I'm so miserable?

Mercy tore the hat from her head and tossed it back where she'd found it. Divining indeed! It's all a bunch of nonsense anyway.

She got ready for bed and stood in front of the old antique mirror hanging over her grandmother's bureau. The mirror had darkened with age and the reflective backing had crackled. But it was something Gran loved. Mercy recalled the many times she had seen her grandmother polis.h.i.+ng the ornate mahogany frame.

She stroked her hairbrush through her long hair.

There! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw some movement reflected in the mirror. She turned quickly, but there was nothing. Her heart raced as her eyes flicked around the room. The only movement was the very tip of Alistair's tail as he rhythmically flipped it back and forth.

Mercy blew out a breath. Whew! I'm imagining things. Her heart felt like a giant b.u.t.terfly was trying to escape her ribcage. Her hands shook as she turned back to the mirror and tried to resume the hair brus.h.i.+ng routine. Her pulse rate had almost returned to normal when a glimmer of movement caught her eye. She froze and pretended not to notice, but her gaze locked on the pulsing manifestation on the other side of the gla.s.s. The aura moved across the reflection in an erratic manner, flitting first one place and then darting to another.

Mercy realized she had stopped breathing. She moved slowly, placing the brush on the bureau and reaching toward the moving figure. Her fingertips smacked into the gla.s.s, reminding her that she was on this side and whatever it was on the other side lay beyond her reach.

I must be imagining things...or going nuts.

And yet she remained, watching the image until the light outside was gone and she could no longer see. She sighed and turned on a lamp, before closing the curtains. She gathered Alistair and curled up in a wing chair to sort out her thoughts. Nothing made sense to her at all.

She went to bed and lay in the dark, clutching Alistair. She couldn't fall asleep right away for all the questions raging through her head.