The Young Witch's Chronicles: Legacy Part 8

Mercy's stomach tightened. She somehow knew this wasn't right. Why would a stuck-up girl like Lindy run away from home? She had it all. Her parents were wealthy and bought her everything she wanted. She was pretty, when she wasn't glaring, and no matter how mean she was, she never seemed to get in trouble.

Becca's parents were divorced and they both showered her with gifts in an attempt to be her favorite parent. She was turning sixteen the next month and was already bragging about the kind of car her father was going to buy her.

Amy's father was an orthodontist. He had applied braces to all the kids with crooked teeth, including his daughter. Amy was pleasant enough unless she was in Lindy's company. That's when she turned into a Lindy-clone with att.i.tude to match.

Mercy frowned. She couldn't believe that all three had vanished.

"Let's go. We don't want to be late for cla.s.s," Felicity urged.

Mercy fell into step between Felicity and Greg. Apparently he was going to walk with them to algebra, although his cla.s.s was in the other direction. He rested his hand on the back of Mercy's neck as they walked down the hallway. A little rush of pleasure tingled at the spot he was touching.

He really likes me.

Other students watched them, some raised a hand in greeting; others called out as they pa.s.sed. Greg liked Mercy and he was making it clear.

Felicity walked just ahead of them, still talking about the three runaways. "I mean, those girls are so hateful, n.o.body in their right mind would want to kidnap them. Who could have taken them? Gypsies?" When they reached the cla.s.sroom, Felicity ducked inside still muttering to herself, leaving Mercy standing outside the door with Greg.

Mercy turned to him with a smile. "Thanks for walking with me, Greg."

He flashed a grin. "Sure. Be careful, Mercy. I don't want you to disappear." He turned and walked back down the hall as the hairs on the back of her neck went on alert.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Two days went by and no more disappearances.

Gran had not returned. Nor had Lindy, Amy or Becca.

The local sheriff's deputies were parked outside the school and a patrol car followed each of the busses as they dropped off students. Still no trace of the mean girls and Mercy had not informed anyone that her grandmother had also been misplaced.

She thought about the three absent girls, wondered fleetingly where they might be, but reflected that it had been a pretty good couple of days for her. No one had bullied her in the school yard. No one had bounced a basketball off her head in gym cla.s.s. And no one had taunted her, glared at her, made ugly faces or called her any unsavory names.

It had been a remarkably pleasant few days. If only Gran would come home.

Mercy gathered eggs after school and finished her homework. Prowling through her grandmother's belongings, she discovered more in the journal. She read that her grandmother had intended to personally deliver Mercy's lessons and teach her to control her powers. But, that was before she got zapped into a mirror.

She exhaled deeply, thinking that she didn't really have much in the way of powers, but she wished she did. She closed her eyes and imagined herself as a powerful witch. She visualized herself casting spells and mixing potions. The latter thought made her giggle.

But still, her grandmother seemed to have confidence in her abilities. "Practice...I need lots of practice."

Alistair gazed at her intently with his round, green eyes, and then re-commenced licking his paw with great concentration.

She decided to practice her witchcraft. So far she had lessons on divination and attraction and banis.h.i.+ng spells. She had practiced divining with Gran's garden hat. And at the dance, she had practiced her attraction spells by bringing it to Arthur's attention that he should ask Felicity to dance. She figured the main thing she should practice now would be the banis.h.i.+ng.

"Focused intent." She gazed at the graniteware bowl that sat on the table. She had used it to gather eggs. She focused on it and tried to push it away with no result. "Go!" she shouted. The bowl wobbled, but remained in place. She sighed. Again. She held her breath and stared at the bowl. "Go! It's time for you to go!"

She closed her eyes and when she opened them the bowl had disappeared. "Oh, no!" She hadn't thought it would evaporate. She just wanted to move it a few inches. "Oh, no!" She stood up and looked around. Where did it go? She peeked under the table to see if it had fallen on the floor but there was no sign of it.

Mercy took a deep breath. "Well, how about that? I banished it." A nervous giggle bubbled up from her insides. "But where did it go?" She glanced at Alistair. "C'mon Alistair. You're an old hand at this witching business. How does this work?"

"Whatever do you mean, M'lady?"

She made a guttural noise, snorting her impatience. "I'm the newbie here. Just tell me how I get it back? How do I make the bowl return?"

He made a purring sound that degenerated into a snicker. "I a.s.sure you that I haven't the foggiest. I always leave the witching business to my dear Lavinia."

"But how will I get the bowl back? I need it to gather the eggs."

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before selecting the bowl for your banis.h.i.+ng spell."

Mercy pressed her fingers to her temples. "But I had no idea it would work like that."

Alistair sent her a decidedly skeptical glare. "And just what did you think *banis.h.i.+ng spell' meant, pray tell?"

"Oh...Well, I thought it was...Like sending something away...but maybe just a few feet away...Not away away."

"Thank you for that elucidating explanation."

"Help me! How do I get it back? That was Gran's favorite bowl."

"What part of, *I'm not a witch and can't reverse your spell', do you not understand?"

A queasy sensation in her stomach caused her to sit down at the table and bury her face in her hands. "This is all just so confusing. I don't know what I'm doing."

Alistair stretched and jumped down from the chair. "I might suggest that you tune in for another lesson...and quickly before things get out of hand." He headed for the door with a flip of his tail.

Mercy watched him slip through the narrow opening as only cats can do, with a slithery motion that was both reptilian and feline at the same time.

"Like this isn't out of hand?" she called after him, but silence was the only response. She straightened her spine and brushed her hair back. "Okay, I'm tuning in." She located the remote and clicked the television on.

"This is Darynda bringing you another fabulous lesson on WTC, the Witch's Training Channel."

Mercy sucked in a deep breath. "I'm here."

"And did you practice your divining?"

Mercy considered Alistair's medallion and Gran's garden hat. "I actually did practice divining, but the first time was an accident. Does that count?"

Darynda quirked her head to one side. "I think you get extra points for that. It's supposed to be a sign that you have exceptional natural talent. Whatever that means."

Mercy expelled a deep breath. "Good. I think I'm going to need it."

"Are you ready to get started? I need your full attention."

"Yeah, I'm ready to roll." She faked a smile.

Darynda leaned toward the camera. "Today is your introduction to Intermediate Spell Casting. This is very important, so listen up."

"Yes. I will." Alistair hopped onto the sofa beside her and placed a paw on her thigh. She stroked his head absently. "Don't talk to me, Alistair. I have to pay attention to this lesson."

He purred his acquiescence.

A heading appeared on the screen. Spellcraft. "Your last lesson introduced this subject and you have hopefully practiced the techniques. Or you may have already experienced some inadvertent spell casting. Sometimes this is manifested as having your conscious thoughts become tangible in the real world."

"I don't understand," Mercy said.

"Have you ever wished something and had it suddenly come true? Or thought of someone just before they called you on the phone?" At Mercy's nod she went on. "These were just minor instances of your wishes manifesting themselves. Can you imagine what would happen if you could harness those powers? That's what spell casting is all about."

"You make it sound so simple."

Darynda tilted her head to one side. "Spell casting becomes second nature to an accomplished witch. Like breathing in and out."

"Well, I can't imagine. I focused my power on a banis.h.i.+ng spell and my grandmother's egg bowl disappeared. I have no idea where it went, but I need to find it."

Darynda covered her mouth with both hands. She appeared to be stifling a giggle, but managed to look contrite when Mercy glared at her. "Oh, that's too bad. You must always have a destination in mind when you banish something or someone. That way you know where to retrieve them, if it becomes necessary to do so."

"Now you tell me." Mercy planted her chin on her fist.

"How did the other thing work for you?"

"Other thing?"

"The Orb of Enchantments? Did you investigate its special talents?"

Mercy frowned. "I forgot. It warmed up a couple of times, but that's about all. What was I supposed to do with it?"

Darynda looked annoyed. "I thought you would explore a bit. I mean, you should have enjoyed seriously enhanced powers."

Mercy considered. "I did make a boy ask a girl to dance."

"That's a start. What else?"

"I think that's all, other than banis.h.i.+ng the egg bowl."

"Try to be a little more creative this next week. The orb's power boost will only last through the following weekend."

Mercy nodded. "Good to know."

"This lesson is on intermediate spell casting. Let's get started."

"What's an intermediate spell?"

Darynda c.o.c.ked her head to one side. "Spells are rated on the basis of complexity. Intermediate spells are a bit more difficult, but don't let that frighten you. It just takes a little more concentration."

Mercy considered her brief experience with spell casting. "I thought my brain was going to explode when I made a boy get up out of his chair and ask my friend to dance."

"Awww...That was nice of you."

Mercy shrugged. "I just wanted her to have a good time."

"And this is why you are a good witch." Darynda favored her with a huge smile of approval.

Mercy sucked in a deep breath. "Ooooh, does that mean there are really bad witches?"

Darynda did an elaborate eye roll. "Of course. There are horrible witches. There are evil witches. There are vicious, eat-your-face-off witches."

An involuntary s.h.i.+ver ran the length of Mercy's spine. "How come some witches are good and others are bad?"

"It's genetic. Bad witches sp.a.w.n more bad witches."

Mercy bit her lower lip.

"Don't worry," Darynda said. "Lavinia is one of the best of the good witches."

"I knew that." Still, Mercy was relieved to have her thoughts validated.

"Okay, let's get down to business. Intermediate spells include turning one thing into something else. Let's start there."

Mercy nodded. "What should I do?"

Darynda leaned close to the screen. "Watch and learn, my little newbie witchlet." She turned to the counter behind her and when she twirled back around she held a tray covered with a cloth. Several items must have been hidden under the cloth because it was b.u.mpy. "First, something simple." She uncovered a bright yellow tennis ball. "I'm going to change this ball into another form. Watch me."

Mercy watched attentively. Darynda observed the ball for a few moments. She appeared to be giving it her utmost concentration. She squinted and pursed her lips. The tennis ball turned into a m.u.f.fin.

Darynda picked it up and took a bite. "I was hungry," she mumbled with her mouth full.

"Wow!" Mercy breathed. "That was fantastic! How did you do that?"

For the next half hour Darynda drilled Mercy on the fine art of transformation spells. By the end of the lesson, Mercy had a headache from clenching her jaw while concentrating.

"Relax, kiddo. You're doing fine." Darynda gave her a double thumbs up.

Mercy drew a breath and let it out. "It's so hard for me."

"Oh, wah! Don't be such a cry baby." Darynda arched an eyebrow. "You are doing so much better than anyone I've ever worked with."

Mercy sat up straighter. "Me? You mean it?"

"Lavinia is right. You do have natural talent." She put her hands on her hips. "Now get out there and use it. Promise me that you'll practice every day."

Mercy nodded. "Yes, I will. I promise."