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The Young Witch's Chronicles: Legacy Part 4

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"Why, I'm here in Minah." Gran spread her hands in a wide gesture. "I have..." She hesitated. "A task to do here before I return, my darling. And I'm caring for an injured brownie so I must make sure he heals properly."

"A brownie? You mean like a tiny Girl Scout or the chocolate kind?" Mercy envisioned her grandmother chasing a big chunk of chocolate with a bite taken out of it.

Gran's laugh was rea.s.suring. "No, dear. I mean one of the little people, something between a leprechaun and a fairy."

"You say that like they really exist." Mercy pressed her lips together.

"Of course they exist, dear. You just have to look for them."



"But how can I see something I don't believe in. I mean, it's like you're asking me to believe in things like unicorns and..." She cast about for something equally ridiculous.

"Like witches?" Gran c.o.c.ked her head to one side.

"Oh!" Mercy stared, her mouth agape.

"It's all right, dear. People may or may not believe in us, but we do exist." Gran placed her palm against the surface separating them. "I have been looking, but I can't figure out how to get back home. The path was quite easy to follow when I entered, but it seems to have magically overgrown. I have to stay until I've completed my...my task. Then I'll find my way out and return to you, my darling."

Mercy reached a trembling hand, but drew back when she touched the cold gla.s.s. Then she placed her palm against the image of Gran's hand. The cool, hard plane seemed to evaporate and it was as if she was touching her grandmother's warm hand. Her throat tightened. "Oh, Gran! What's going to happen now?"

"I wish I knew. I'm trying to locate the path back across, but my friends here are making it difficult for me." She sighed. "I guess the creatures here in Minah need me."

"I need you!" Mercy wailed.

"I know, dear and I need you too. I had planned on guiding you through your training myself, but I had to make alternate arrangements."

"Darynda!" Mercy laughed.

"Yes, the Witch's Training Channel has been charged with your education."

"But how did you. . .?" She paused. "I mean, from there?"

Gran smiled. "Only my physical presence is being detained here in Minah. I'm still a witch and my powers are free to protect you and to act in your best interests. When you step beyond the gate, my powers will no longer be able to guard you, but as long as you're within the boundaries of the fence, my protection will be your s.h.i.+eld. This house is protected by a strong enchantment. You will find that all your needs will be provided for." She smiled and it seemed that the entire room grew lighter. "And of course, you have Alistair."

"Thanks for leaving your cat." Mercy snorted. "He's got way too much att.i.tude."

"Alistair is a fine companion and will protect you with his life." Gran withdrew her hand to shake her finger. "You must respect him, for he has a valiant soul."

"Yes, I will," she said, feeling properly scolded.

"I must go, but I am watching over you. Take care, my precious." And she was gone, fading into nothingness until Mercy was staring at her own image in the gla.s.s.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Mercy awoke Sat.u.r.day morning feeling comforted. At least she knew where Gran was and that she was somehow still nearby. She had no idea what it meant to have 'an enchantment' protecting the house and grounds. Perhaps another thing to ask Darynda about.

Alistair slept curled at the foot of her bed. His paws were tucked under him and his eyes were closed. He looked like any other cat. Having a cat appointed as her guardian was less than confidence inspiring. I mean, in an emergency, how much help could a cat be? Would he hiss and growl? Maybe his fur would fluff up and he would scratch? She shook her head. Alastair was a well-fed and content feline. She couldn't imagine him perturbed about anything, much less being defensive.

She remembered that she had failed to remind Gran about her impending date with Greg the following weekend. She was having anxiety about the dance. On the one hand, she was excited about going on her first date with Greg. On the other hand, she didn't know what to wear and she was pretty certain she didn't know how to dance.

She went to her closet and surveyed the meager contents. She had plenty of school clothes and jeans. She had Sunday dresses. What she didn't have was a dress fit to wear to a school dance with the hottest boy ever.

She had talked to Felicity about her pitiful wardrobe and what she might wear to dance with Greg. Felicity had immediately reminded Mercy that she was the shopping G.o.ddess. She suggested that they go to the mall to select proper dresses for the dance and arranged for her mother to drive them.

Mercy went to her secret cache, which was an empty tin that had once held sugar cookies. She kept it hidden in the back of her closet. She pulled it out and carried it to the table. When she opened it, a feeling of hopelessness settled over her. She stared at the thin stack of dollars held together with a paper clip. She didn't bother counting it, because there was no way she could purchase a suitable dress with this small amount.

She closed the top of the cigar box and folded her hands on top of it. I wish I had enough to buy a dress. I wish I could look great Friday night. Maybe I should just tell Greg I can't go.

She sighed and started to stand up, but decided that she might want to count the money anyway. When she opened the box, she thought the stack of cash didn't appear to be as small as it had the first time she looked at it. Maybe she had been mistaken. Maybe there was more than she had originally thought. She took the bills out and carefully counted them. She hadn't remembered having so many twenties. In fact, she didn't remember having any twenties. She marveled at the stack of cash in the pile before her.

Wow! I have so much more money here than I thought. I can buy a dress. I can even buy shoes.

She pressed her lips together, trying to recall the last time she had put money in the box. It had been a few weeks ago when she had helped old Mr. Knox clean out his shed. He always asked her to give him a hand with ch.o.r.es, like when she pulled weeds in his garden or when she painted the bal.u.s.ters on his porch. She distinctly remembered he had given her two crispy ten dollar bills, but she hadn't counted the total. She folded the money and stuffed it in the pocket of her jeans.

Mercy fed Alistair and tossed some grain for the chickens. She thought that the bucket of grain looked to be at the same level as it was the day before. Perhaps she hadn't fed them as much as she thought. Maybe, like everything else in my life lately, it's a magic bucket? Yeah, right. She snorted and closed the chicken yard gate and ran inside the house.

She took a quick shower and got ready for the shopping expedition. She wanted to be ready so she could run out the door and not have anyone come inside the house to discover her grandmother was missing.

She stepped outside the gate and immediately felt a little tingle of energy she hadn't noticed before. Not exactly electricity, she decided, but definitely a force of some kind. Good to know.

She didn't have to wait long. When Felicity's family sedan slowed in front, she ran to climb into the back seat. "Thanks for the ride Mrs. Porter."

Felicity's mom greeted her and in a short time, deposited the girls at the main entrance to the mall.

A troop of gymnastic b.u.t.terflies were doing back flips in Mercy's stomach. She patted the wad of cash in her pocket and followed Felicity through the revolving door into the cool air-conditioned interior. It was early, so the s.h.i.+ny surfaces were still gleaming.

Felicity was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with excitement, her eyes wide and a grin fixed to her face. Mercy couldn't help but catch some of her enthusiasm. She paused in front of one of the brightly lit store windows and gazed at the dizzying array of dresses. However, Felicity had a single destination in mind.

"Don't even look! We are not going to shop until we get to the Trends Today store. That's where all the popular girls shop." She led Mercy to a particular store where she was sure they would find the perfect dresses.

Once inside, Mercy stared at the displays aimed at young shoppers. Bright colors and trendy clothes were on exhibit everywhere she looked. A bouncy rhythm blared through the sound system.

Felicity grabbed her hand and dragged her to the rear of the store where dressy dresses and formal wear hung on racks. There was a fragrance in the air and every mirror was polished. Felicity started pawing through the racks and pulled one out to hold up against her. "What do you think?

Mercy considered a moment. "I think the color brings out your eyes."

Felicity grinned, threw the dress over her arm and continued her quest.

Mercy found her size and began sliding the hangers along the rack. When she found a dress she liked, she checked the price tag before deciding to put it over arm to try on. The variety was endless. She could dress up and become whatever she wanted. She slid a hanger forward. This one looks like a fluffy lamb. The dress was white with a tiered skirt. No thanks.

She skidded more hangers along the rack. s.l.u.t dress. s.l.u.t dress. She pushed past dresses that were too short or too clingy or looked like Lady Gaga would wear them.

"Wait!" Felicity shrieked. "That one would look so sweet on you." She grabbed a deep pink dress and held it up to Mercy's chest. "Ooh, that's really pretty. You've got to try on this one,"

Mercy thought the color was nice, but wasn't sure she wanted to look sweet. She reluctantly slung it over her arm and continued her search. She added a teal green paisley with a scattering of sequins on the top.

She caught her breath. There! I found it! The perfect dress. It was a soft peach with two layers of material. It was beautiful. The neckline was scooped and draped and it looked feminine. Reverently, she removed the hanger from the rack. Perfect. Just perfect.

She and Felicity took their selections to the dressing room. "Try on the pink one first," Felicity directed.

Mercy eyed the tiers of pink ruffles and felt a s.h.i.+ver creep along her spine. But faced with Felicity' enthusiastic urging, she tried it on.

"Ooh, that looks so sweet," Felicity cooed when she stepped out of the dressing room.

"I think I wore something like this to your eighth birthday party. I look like a cupcake." She returned to the dressing room and removed the layers of pink fluff. Way too sweet. She reached for the teal dress next. It slid on easily, the silky fabric felt cool against her skin. She turned around to see the back and liked the way it looked. The sequins were under a layer of sheer fabric, which made her look like a s.h.i.+mmery mermaid. Yes, this dress would work.

But she removed it and reached for the peach dress. It was beautiful and she felt beautiful when she put it on. The color reflected back into her face and the soft draping flattered her slim figure.

"Come on out so I can see," Felicity called.

Mercy stepped from the dressing room, smiling. "I love this one." She went out to the three-way mirror to admire herself. This dress was great from all angles. She twirled around, but her grin froze in place when her eyes met those of Lindy Boyd. She was wearing the exact same peach dress. Becca and Amy cl.u.s.tered close to her, their faces a parody of horror.

"No!" Lindy shrieked. "I cannot believe you're wearing my dress."

Mercy stopped breathing right then and there, the vision of the outraged Lindy in the peach dress burned into her brain. Lindy's face was red, clas.h.i.+ng with the delicate peach tones. She stood with her hands fisted on her hips. "I've been here for hours looking for the perfect dress and I found it. This is my dress. Now you've ruined everything."

"Well, I didn't mean to..." She began, but Lindy shouted over her.

"Shut up! You don't get to wear the same dress as me to the dance!" Lindy turned and stomped back into the dressing room.

Mercy turned back to the mirrors, her reflection now mocking her. Her cheeks flamed with embarra.s.sment, as red as Lindy's angry face. Her hands shook as she took a deep breath and expelled it. "I can get the teal dress instead. It looked pretty good."

"Too bad," Felicity said. "I really think this one looks fabulous on you."

"Yeah, well. . ." Mercy went back to the dressing room just as Lindy came storming out. She had dozens of dresses in her arms, including the peach one.

"I don't want any of these," she shouted to the startled sales woman. "They're all too ordinary for me." She dumped the dresses on the counter and turned to glare at Mercy. "I want something special." She flipped her hair and left the store, her charm bracelet jingle-jangling in her wake. Amy and Becca flouncing after her.

Mercy's cheerless mood lifted immediately, like a gray cloud evaporating overhead. She turned to Felicity. "So this means I won? The dress is mine?"

Felicity grinned and did a little dance around in a circle. "You won! You won!" Both hands flew to cover her mouth. "I know why you won. It's because you look so much better in that dress than Lindy did." She giggled delightedly, and then motioned Mercy back to the dressing room. "I found a perfect dress too. It makes me look taller and thinner and I love it. Come on. We've got to buy shoes too."

Mercy grimaced. Somehow she hadn't thought that she would ever win any confrontation with Lindy. She returned to the dressing room and momentarily considered the peach and the teal dresses in turn. Checking the price tags revealed that the peach dress was significantly more expensive than the teal, so she was resigned to purchase the latter, but when she took the dresses to the counter, the sales lady informed her that the peach dress was on sale. Mercy's insides took a little leap of joy. She gladly handed over the cash and had to resist the urge to hug the store bag, but her heart was literally dancing in her chest. She would look so dazzling for Greg. Definitely not sweet.

After Mercy arrived back at home, she ran inside with her purchases. She had never owned anything so gorgeous. For the first time since Greg had asked her, she was looking forward to the dance. She twirled around three times, hugging her bags to her chest.

The only downside was the fact that Gran was in Minah, wherever that was. Mercy had wanted to run home and show off her purchases. She wanted to try on her new dress and heels for Gran's approval. Mercy hung up the dress and placed the s...o...b..x in the bottom of her closet. At least she was prepared for one event in her life.

She felt so buoyant she thought she should gear up for another encounter with the daunting Darynda. Pointing the remote at the television, she settled down to see if she could locate the WTC for the next lesson.

"You again?" Darynda scowled at her. "You're early."

"I thought I would see if you might give me another lesson."

Darynda let out a little laugh. "This is a switch. What made you decide to become the good little witch student all of a sudden?"

Mercy blinked her eyes and took a deep breath. "I talked to my grandmother. She made me perceive things in a different light."

"I see..." Darynda drawled. "Lavinia is a very powerful witch. I understand why you would like to follow in her footsteps." She flashed a wide grin. "She's a legend."

Tears stung Mercy's eyes. "My grandmother...I miss her so much...Is there any way you can help me bring her back home?"

Darynda shook her head. "No way! I'm not getting in the way of another witch's magick. I'm sure Lavinia will bring herself back...when she's ready. In the mean time, you're education has been entrusted to me, so let's make your grandmother proud of you."

"I want her to be proud of me...She thinks I have. . .talent." Mercy shrugged.

"Okay, let's see if you do. This lesson is on basic spells. Are you up for it?"

Mercy nodded. "I'm ready. I read the first two chapters in the handbook, but the rest of the pages were blank."

Darynda folded her arms across her chest. "Look again."

Mercy opened the handbook and found that chapter three, ent.i.tled Spell Casting 101, had mysteriously appeared. "I don't understand. I looked and these pages were blank."

"We don't like for you to read ahead. When you're ready for the next lesson, it will be published in your handbook." She winked. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Mercy sat up straighter. "What is a spell anyway? Like hocus pocus or abra cadabra?"

Darynda favored her with a distinct eye roll. "You've been watching way too many cartoons. A spell is simply focused energy with intent to bring about a particular occurrence." Darynda pointed her finger at the screen and the words *Focused Energy' appeared. "Remember that. It's important."

"What do you use a spell for?" Mercy asked.

"Many things. There are love spells and hate spells. There are attraction spells to bring something or someone to you. And there are banis.h.i.+ng or removal spells to send something or someone far away. There are spells to attract wealth and spells to avert bad energy."

Mercy couldn't imagine that she would ever have occasion to use a spell. Perhaps there was a spell to bring grandmothers back?

"What about magic wands? Don't I need one of those to cast a spell?

Darynda collapsed in a fit of giggles. "Where do you get your information?"

Mercy felt her color rising. "Well, I read once..."

"You read it in a book that was not written by a witch. Witches know they can instill their magic into any object, so if it helps you to focus, by all means go out and cut a tree branch and make yourself a nice little wand." Her voice dripped sarcasm.

Mercy felt the sting of tears. "You don't have to be so snarky."

"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just that...you can't afford to be so sensitive. You have a heritage to live up to." Darynda turned and walked a few paces away. She twirled around suddenly. "It's your legacy. You have the potential to be more than just an ordinary witch."

Mercy jumped to her feet. "Ordinary witch! What's an ordinary witch anyway?"

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The Young Witch's Chronicles: Legacy Part 4 summary

You're reading The Young Witch's Chronicles: Legacy. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Calista Anastasia. Already has 492 views.

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