Witch Way, Stannie? (eBook)

CHAPTER 1
The Apprenticeship

Dragons.

This is what stopped the four—until then, all intent on chasing a stream of fireflies that swooshed down the back alley and into that big, dimly lit carnival tent. The word “dragons” echoing in the night air.

Lily and Long piled up behind Stannie and her little dog, Boiler.

From outside, back of the tent, they saw shadows of knobbly, long-robed elbows thrusting about, shadows of gnarly hands and of crooked noses and round apple cheeks looking back and forth at each other, heard noisy, clambering voices swarming around the word “dragons.”

One voice, firm and gravelly, growled, “…Stannie will have to apprentice with the next wandering Dragon Tamers that come by…”

“Holy crooked cricket’s legs, sh-h-hush.” Stannie’s choking voice hissed at her three accomplices as she broke out in clammy, cold sweats.

Leaning in on their junior broomsticks, they heard, “…IF someone doesn’t help her soon.”

“I’d really, really like to help Stannie.” A voice she didn’t know offered, “She APPEARS to be bright. I’m at my wit’s end and the end of my magic as to what might work. Everyone likes her, but she is flying on a different broomstick than her friends.”

Another voice croaked, “She’s a spunky girl, willing enough. But I’m afraid it’s true. Every one of the apprenticeships she tried last season came to no good end.”

Peering through a crack in the tent corner, Stannie recognized among the gathering her own three, blue-cloaked witches, Annie, Fannie, and Maxine—those who took care of her as if she were their own Little Witch.

“She must perfect one skill. Instead, she rushes from one thing to another, improving on nothing,” Annie grumbled deeply, standing tall and thin.

It was true, what the Big Witches were saying; they all knew it. Stannie had tried apprenticing in quite a few of the specialty booths in the Witches’ Carnival array—Reading Cards for Potions, Spells and Dust Remedies, Magical Animals and Pets for Sale, Magic Rabbits’ Hat Training, Mongoose Whispering, and the Bakery. Every trade tent in the band of traveling witches was required to offer the opportunity of an apprenticeship to any Little Witch who was the right age to try out. Stannie, already eleven, had tried out many of them.

She always pretended nonchalance, blowing it off. So what if they yelled and shook their brooms at her in the end. It was such a lot of fun. And she always learned something, didn’t she?

She hadn’t been too worried, or at least she tried not to let it show, because she hadn’t tried everything yet. Secretly she wished the different booths she could explore would never end. She loved every one of them, especially at the beginning of each apprenticeship attempt. Besides, the excitement as she started each new one covered up her anxious feeling about never fitting in anywhere.

“We really need to impress on Stannie how important having a good apprenticeship is for all of us,” said anxious Fannie. She was Stannie’s middle-sized, square-shaped Big Witch, with the high, thin voice. As usual, she was referring to their status in the group. Favoritism for opportunities often seemed to fall even upon witches. Stannie knew Fannie was thinking about the Great Witches’ Grand Council election coming up soon, and of those on the board who would be determining policy for the coming year.

Lily and Long’s eyes were big in the cool autumn twilight as they stared at Stannie, frozen in damp perspiration, her hair curling more tightly. Even Boiler, sniffing the chill, pungent silence, sat completely stock-still, staring at them. For once, Lily, glossy black hair never a strand out of place, was hushed, her mouth dropped open.

No one had to say aloud what they were all thinking: Not that—having to apprentice with the Dragon Tamers.

The last thing anyone wanted was to be outdoors in the cold all day tending hot coals, cleaning the long talons and teeth of dangerous, disgusting dragons. Stannie realized in a heart-stopping moment that this could mean she would have to leave her witch family and everything she knew, as far back as she could remember anyhow. She knew they weren’t her real, natural-born family, but not how or why. It wasn’t a secret; it was just something that they never talked about. She did know she was different from other Little Witches, a little off somehow. And she didn’t want to talk about that either, as if talking might make it worse or more real. She tried very hard to be like the others. If she did, she secretly believed that one day maybe it would work. She just wasn’t there yet.

She choked back tears; she was always seen as the happy-go-lucky one with her friends, fun and exciting to be with. She couldn’t let them see her crying now. She held back a deep sigh beneath the lump in her throat. TThe dusk was thick and heavy, just like she was feeling. Stannie, pressing her finger to her pursed lips, frowned at them all to stay quiet.

“No, no, you cannot do that,” shouted an unrecognizable voice. “Not after what she went through back in the dragon fire and all that.”

Stannie, eyes open wide in shock, stood like a statue, straining her left ear closer to the tent to hear more—what did that mean, “what she went through”? Her arms were cold with chills, her breath shallow—but no more was offered.

The tent was silent for a long moment. Then the Big Witches were all speaking together.

“Whattaya do?”

“I don’t know. What do ya do?”

“I don’t know—what do you do,” different voices spoke, from here and there.

Stannie recognized the shadows of others in the witch group, except for one in the far corner, bent and swathed in robes.

Boiler, spikey ears alert, and Lily and Long, their eyes worried, all watched Stannie intently.

Through the crack, they saw Maxine rise slowly for attention. Short, plump, and pleasant, she shook her head. They heard her usual warm voice say, “In my heart I still believe Stannie can do this, and I know you all want to believe it, too. Don’t all Little Witches find their apprenticeships?” She added “She’s just a lively Little Witch. I say everything will turn out just fine.”

But so far, it hadn’t.

No one answered Maxine.

Her voice pleaded, “Give her time, at least ’til the Dragon Tamers come. Let’s keep helping her to find an apprenticeship that might work. I say, hope for the best, and throw in all our best spells for her while we’re at it.”

The figure furthest away in the shadows of the corner rose to her feet. Stannie, rooted to the spot and unblinking, heard her own pounding heart, sucked in her breath, and leaned in closer, frowning. Everyone in the tent focused on the bent figure.

The figure’s deep, raspy voice said, “Not only must Stannie catch on, but she must do more—much, much more.”

Stannie broke away. Eyebrows furrowed, shivers flooded her body. Hands shaking, she smacked at her pointy, black hat to tighten it over her flyaway hair, yanked at her long, striped stockings to hitch them up. She threw her leg over her broom, reached down to hoist Boiler behind her, and with a kick-start bounded up over the tent with such a swoosh that the tent canvas swayed. Through the loosened tent flap, the cloud of fireflies wildly escaped, colliding and tumbling, like her terror.

Luck was with her. The takeoff was a good one for a change. She skittered, flying sideways on her broom back up the row of carnival tents, away from the southern Meeting Tent at the edge of the alleyway next to the big stadium. That tent sat across from the high, penned-in arena for wild animals, when they were around. She then zipped past the Bakery, the Apothecary, and more trade tents. On toward her home caravan, nestled among other caravans at the far north end of the alley. She was followed by Lily close behind, little Long keeping up. Each was a better flyer than she ever had been.

“Something will work out—I’m not worried,” Stannie laughed backward over her shoulder, but it sounded phony even to her.

She ignored Lily’s, “Wait up, wait up.”

No way was she going to apprentice with a Dragon Tamer. The talk about the dragon fire clenched her heart, like a long-gone bad memory or nightmare. Her mind refused to go there, let alone think of herself in connection with that. And to do “much more”? She couldn’t imagine the riddle of that on top of the worst possible apprenticeship known. The cold unknown choked down into her already shaking body. And what was that about the Dragon Fires—if she went through something “back then,” why couldn’t she remember it!?!

“Much more than what? How??” Stannie muttered, her whole body trembling with worry.

Somehow, she had to find her right apprenticeship and quick. She did not want to talk about it. She could not. She was scared. She was angry....