Page 3 of Elmwood Inclusive Magic Academy
“Babe, you have to! Everyone is going to be there, all the guys from the football team…”
I have to figure out a way to get some time off in November. I never had many friends growing up, even in the small town we live by. I sort of drifted in and out of friend groups, but I had trouble trusting and making connections. I didn’t like inviting people over and couldn’t let them get too close in case my obvious witchy-ness weirded them out. That is, until I turned 17 and finally started dating Tim. He was on the football team, and I sort of wormed my way into the popular kid group. Admittedly, they’re pretty superficial, but at this point, I don’t mind. They make me feel normal, and it’s nice to be part of something. I’ve been dreaming about Rome since we graduated, and I’ll be super bummed if I can’t go because of some potions exam or something.
After I hang up the phone, I pull on my cardigan and make sure my suitcase is all packed. Millie gave it to me, and it’s enchanted so that it can hold extra stuff. Not so much as the weathered carpet bag she stores all her herbs in, but it means I can throw in some extra books. Goddess knows, I’m going to need all the entertainment I can get.
“Ready to leave, love?” Millie calls up the rope ladder.
“In a minute!” I look at myself in the mirror. I don’t have anyone to impress, but I still try to tame my long ringlets into a bun. I should have gotten a hair cut before leaving, they fallwell past my shoulders. I look disapprovingly at my freckles and debate whether to put on some make-up, but what’s the point?
“Maggie!” Lydia shouts to me. “Come on, hon, we’ve got to get there before midnight.”
Of course, orientation at my magical witch school starts at midnight. I sigh dramatically and Pan hops on my shoulder, preening himself.
Lydia magics the door to my attic room open, and my luggage starts to disappear through it.
“Hey, you didn’t know if I was done yet!”
“Anything you’re missing, Millie can send to you later, let’s go!”
I’m barely down the rope ladder when I feel a tingle up my spine. Astrid slips a carved clay amulet into my pocket.
“Mom-”
“Keep it in your pocket, and it will protect you.”
“It’s so heavy-”
“It’s the oldest form of magic, young witch, don’t scoff.” She smiles and kisses me demurely on the cheek.
Outside, I take one last look at our house and feel a sudden pang of preemptive homesickness. I’ve spent so long imagining the day I would leave for college, I didn’t think it would be so hard. But I guess I hadn’t been expecting to leave for Double-Double-Toil-and-Trouble University.
The sun is setting in a haze of teal and turquoise. The evening is pleasant, and I’m actually looking forward to our flight for a change. Usually I find broomstick riding a bit uncomfortable.
Lydia is already perched expertly on the smooth handle of her teak broom. She waves her hand. My broomstick whizzes obediently beside my luggage and they both hover at waist-height.
“Mom, I can ride it myself,” I protest, attempting to sound mature and reasonable. But my voice wavers slightly. I know I’mnot the best at riding a broomstick, and it’s a long flight. Even though it’s slightly embarrassing, I know that it will probably be faster (and safer) for Lydia to use her magic to fly my broomstick while I sit on it like a fairground ride.
“We’re already late, and this is easier,” Astrid says. Her raven familiar hovers beside her, glaring at me impatiently.
“Just think, sweetheart, after a month or two of Flying Fundamentals, you’ll be whizzing around, all on your own!” Millie chirps.
I swing my leg awkwardly over the broomstick and almost slide off as we ascend. I have a horrible image of myself falling headfirst into a pile of thorn bushes, in front of an entire class of witches who’ve probably been riding since they were three.
“Hey, keep it steady!” Pan grouches directly into my ear, sinking his tiny claws into my shoulder. “I knew I should have been an owl familiar…”
“Quiet down, Pan.”
THE PATCHWORK CASTLE
Maggie
We fly for a solid hour or two, due North. We form a diamond shape - Lydia leading up front (of course), Millie on the left, me on the right, and Astrid to the back, making sure I don’t plummet to my death.
I’m sure my thighs are covered in splinters, but the beautiful sunset might be worth it. When I’m not anxiously clinging to my broomstick, it’s lovely to watch the tiny houses go by underneath me. We live outside a very small town called Cherry Creek, but the area we’re going to is even more remote. I've never heard of it, but I notice the farmhouses and barns give way to thick forests and glittering lakes.
“There it is, love,” shouts Millie, as we fly up to a large clearing.
If I didn’t have the night-vision of a witch, I would have mistaken the building for a small mountain. Nestled in the hills, the academy is large, foreboding, and not what I had imagined at all. I had pictured a fancy castle, or a large Victorian, elegantly containing centuries of wisdom. But the school looks more like several medieval castles that have been torn apart and stitched back together, like a quilt. The building materials vary from stone to brick to cedar wood paneling. Turrets and towers stick out every which way like candles on a birthday cake baked by a five-year-old. Nothing is consistent, or even architecturally feasible.
