A Witch’s Kitchen Page 8

  “N-no, Mistress. Only...”

  The unicorn stamped in annoyance. “Only what?”

  “Well, as I was g-grinding the ingredients, I was thinking about making d-d-dinner.”

  Mistress Pym looked thoughtful. “And this dinner included honey?”

  Millie nodded miserably.

  “Interesting. Did you intentionally change Grumpkin’s charm?”

  “Oh, no, M-m-mistress,” Millie said hastily. “I never m-meant to do that. I d-d-don’t know how that happened.”

  “Hmm, I can guess,” said Mistress Pym. “I will have to consider this. Meanwhile, you owe Grumpkin an apology.”

  Millie bowed her head. “I’m very sorry, Grumpkin. I didn’t mean to charm you.”

  “Grumpkin, do you accept this apology?”

  Grumpkin frowned, shaking water out of one ear. “Yah, sure,” he muttered.

  “Very good,” said Mistress Pym. “Millie, you will clean up this mess, and you will launder Grumpkin’s clothing for him. Right now, you and Grumpkin should get changed. Go to the Lost and Found box and find some suitable clothing, then go to the bathrooms to change. After that, you may proceed to lunch. Millie, you will return during recess to clean the floor.” The unicorn lifted her head to survey the room. “Everyone else, good job. Class dismissed.”

  “Do you always think about food?” Petunia asked her as they filed out.

  Millie hung her head. “Pretty much.”

  Petunia showed her to the Lost and Found box just outside the bathrooms, where Grumpkin was extracting some tattered trousers.

  “You’ll pay for that, witch,” he told her, heading for the boy’s bathroom.

  Petunia sorted through boots, hats, scarves, shirts, pants, and jackets and pulled out a plain brown dress, slightly stained. “I think this is the best we’ve got.”

  Millie took it. “Any towels?”

  The pixie plucked out a fleecy vest. “Will this do?”

  Millie nodded. A few minutes later, she emerged from the girls’ bathroom, mostly dry and completely free of mud, slime, and shoes. “Do you think it’s all right to go barefoot?”

  Petunia looked pointedly at her own bare feet. “Suits me fine.” She cocked her head. “You look better without all the mud. Your hair is shiny.”

  “Darkness, I must look awful.” Millie frowned. “Come on, let’s go get our lunches.”

  Mashed Asparagus and Cookie Crumbs

  When she returned to class, Millie went to her cubby and got a nasty shock.

  “M-m-master Augustus?” Millie cried.

  Augustus looked up from lining up the other students. “What is it, Millie?”

  Millie’s lip trembled. I must not cry, I must not cry. She took a deep breath. “Master Augustus, my lunch is gone.”

  Augustus trotted over and saw that her cubby contained nothing but Grumpkin’s sodden trousers. He frowned. “Class, Millie’s lunch has gone missing. Does anyone know where it is?”

  Several giggles and snickers erupted from the line, swiftly silenced by a glare from Master Augustus. “Let me make this very clear,” he said slowly. “No one, not even I, will go to lunch until Millie’s cauldron is found and returned to her.” He folded his arms, waiting.

  After a long and awkward moment, a leaf sprite raised his hand. “Um, Master Augustus? I think I saw something odd in the paints cupboard.”

  “Go fetch it, Bay, if you please.”

  The sprite dashed off, then returned with Millie’s cauldron. The flask of soup was still there, though it had been opened, and some had spilled. The grilled asparagus had been mashed into a sticky paste all over the inside of the cauldron, and the bread and cookies were gone.

  “Which of you stole Millie’s lunch?” Augustus asked. “We are not leaving until I find out.” He looked carefully at each of the students. “Grumpkin, you seem to have crumbs in your hair and on your pants.”

  Grumpkin shrugged, not the least bit embarrassed. “I found it in the paint cupboard, same as Bay did, and helped myself.”

  Augustus trotted over to his desk and retrieved his wand. “I think we’ll try that again with a truth spell in place.”

  Grumpkin raised his hands. “Okay, okay, I took it. ‘Twasn’t fair, them cookies smellin’ so good. They tempted me.”

  “Then I believe you owe Millie an apology and your lunch in compensation.”

  Grumpkin looked disgusted. “I don’t owe her nothing. She sent those skeeters after me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Millie told him. “I didn’t mean to do that. It was an accident.”

  Master Augustus said, “Now, Grumpkin, apologize to Millie and give her your lunch.”

  Grumpkin growled out, “Sorry.” He handed her a dirty sack filled with what looked and smelled like mashed earthworms.

  “Ugh,” Millie said. “No, thanks.”

  “Now, Grumpkin, I think you should visit Headmistress Pteria’s office,” said Augustus.

  Grumpkin grimaced at Millie, then stumped down the stairs.

  “Everyone else, back in line,” Augustus said. “Down to lunch we go!”

  Max and Petunia were waiting anxiously for Millie at the bottom of the stairs. Max looked Millie over, surprised, and said, “What happened? You don’t look like a witch anymore.”

  And Millie burst into tears.

  “I’m sorry!” Max said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. What did I say?” he asked Sagara, who had followed her.

  Sagara rolled her eyes at Max. “Grumpkin stole her lunch, and you’re insulting her, you pompous idiot.”

  “But she doesn’t look like a witch,” he said, bewildered.

  “You must have brushed your teeth with gunpowder this morning,” Petunia said, rolling her eyes, “because you just keep shooting your mouth off.”

  “He’s right, I don’t look like a witch,” Millie choked out. “What kind of witch can’t keep her hat or make a simple charm or sprout a bean or prevent her lunch from being stolen? I don’t think I’m actually a witch at all.”

  Max looked mournfully at Millie’s cauldron. “Stolen? Does that mean no lunch today?”

  Sagara smacked the back of his head. “Yeah, that’s the important thing here, your stomach. Millie, of course you’re a witch.”

  “But I never get anything right, not one single spell, ever,” Millie wailed.

  Max looked confused. “Well, that’s not true. You used to be fantastic at magic when we were little. You made mud pies so real, you’d trick me into eating them every single time. And the thing is, I didn’t mind because they were so delicious.”

  Millie stared at him. “I did? I don’t remember that.”

  “You did, though.” Max nodded vigorously. “You were like the opposite of my dad. He makes food boring and awful. You made boring, awful things into food. You’d turn sticks into pretzels, rocks into rock candy. And they were all so yummy.”

  Petunia looked thoughtful. “Today, when your charm went wrong, you were thinking about honey. What about other spells that have gone wrong?”

  Millie told them about the cauldron she turned into a pumpkin, and the elephant egg quiche, and the chamomile tea in Elementary Potions class on Twosday. “And then there’s Horace,” she said, explaining about the chocolate sauce.

  All three of her friends stared at her. Millie turned bright red and considered crawling under the table.

  “That’s... that’s...” Petunia began.

  “Impossible. Unbelievable. Inconceivable,” Max said.

  “Very interesting,” said Sagara.

  The others turned to stare at her. She shrugged. “It should be impossible for a ghost to eat physical food, so ghosts are generally immune to potions of any kind. But Horace can eat your food. You said he was getting fat.”

  “Well, that’s what Mother says, anyway,” Millie said.

  Sagara sat down at the table, plunking down her lunch bag. “So somehow, you have the power to affect spirits, allowing them to interact with physical
matter. And it’s always food?”

  Millie nodded.

  “Then I think you’re definitely a witch. You just have an unusual talent,” Sagara told her, “and it has something to do with food. You just have to figure out what it is.”

  Millie thought it just proved she couldn’t get anything right, but it was nice of Sagara to say otherwise, so she smiled.

  “Speaking of food, can we eat?” Max asked, glancing at Millie’s messy cauldron. “Did Grumpkin steal everything?”

  “He ate the oatmeal bread and chocolate chip cookies, and he ruined my asparagus. There’s still some butternut squash soup, though,” Millie told him, pulling out the flask.

  Max groaned. “Chocolate chip? Awwww...”

  “I should have known better,” Millie said. “Chocolate always gets me in trouble.”

  “Well, I brought some kale salad and carrot rolls,” Sagara offered.

  “Mutton sandwiches and raspberry-rhubarb crumble,” Petunia added, laying her box on the table.

  Max pulled out more not-bread sandwiches, the bread smeared with jam and a nut paste, along with some wrinkled apples.

  “That looks awful,” Millie said.

  “I’m used to it.” Max bit into a sandwich and chewed slowly.

  “Have some soup,” Millie offered, pushing the flask over to him. “And from now on, I’m going to bring you lunch.”

  “We can all bring some extra lunch,” Petunia said, “and we can share recipes.”

  “Speaking of which,” said Sagara, “here’s the cookbook you requested.” She pushed a parchment scroll over to Millie.

  Millie took the scroll and unrolled it a bit. “Oh, this isn’t too hard,” she said. “I don’t know all the ingredients, though. I wish I’d brought my Elvish-Canto dictionary.”

  “You could just check one out of the school library,” Sagara said.

  Both Max and Millie turned to stare at her. “There’s a library here?” Max said, his eyes round with greed.

  “Where do you think I go every day during recess?” Sagara asked.

  Petunia slapped her forehead. “Research! Of course you’d be in the library.”

  “What are you researching?” Max asked.

  Sagara scowled. “You’re awfully nosy. I happen to be researching the Logical Realm for an independent project.

  Millie’s head suddenly filled with information. The Logical Realm was the strangest of all the many Realms of Earth because it had no magic at all. About six hundred years ago, people began to notice that magic seemed to be disappearing there, possibly due to the rise of logic and reason. Worried that this problem might spread to other Realms, the greatest wizards, witches, enchanters, sorceresses, demons, djinni, and other magicians of all kinds formed a coalition and separated the Logical Realm from all the other Realms in a vast, world-changing enchantment called the Great Sundering. All magic had been removed from the Logical Realm in the process.

  There were some interesting side effects. Magic in all the Realms got stronger, but travel between the Realms got harder. Instead of being able to slip from one Realm to the next anywhere, anytime, people now had to use portals to move from Realm to Realm. There were portals that led to the Logical Realm, but they were sealed and guarded to prevent people from accidentally wandering across. Many people couldn’t live without magic and would die there.

  “Millie? Max? What’s wrong?” Petunia took Millie’s arm and shook her.

  Millie blinked a few times. “I’m all right,” she said. “Headmistress Pteria gave Max and me Remedial History potions. I think it just activated. I got a lesson on the Logical Realm, right inside my head.”

  Max was shaking his head. “Wow, what a weird place.”

  Sagara looked jealous. “Liquefied information. That’s tricky magic. Headmistress Pteria is the leading expert on it. I wish she had a Logical Realm potion. Then I wouldn’t have to do all this research.” She considered that a moment. “But then I’d only get the information the Headmistress thinks is important. She might miss something. I’m better off doing it myself. But what I was saying, Millie, was that you should come with me to the library. Maybe you can figure out how to change Horace back into a normal ghost.”

  “Do you think so?” Millie asked.

  The elf shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt, could it?”

  “It sounds like a good idea, and maybe I could help you with your research, too. That’s only fair.” Then Millie slumped. “I wish I could go with you, but I have to clean up the lab during recess.”

  “I’ll help you,” Petunia said. “It’ll go faster with two of us, and then maybe we’ll have time for the library before class.”

  Millie smiled at her. “Thanks, Petunia.”

  “I’ll go to the library with Sagara,” Max said eagerly. “I have some things I want to look up, myself. And I’ll get you some books on transformations.”

  “If you’re going to the lab, you might try asking Mistress Mallow. I bet she’d know how to change Horace back,” Sagara pointed out. “Hmm, can I have some of that soup?”

  Millie grinned. “Trade you for some kale.”

  When the lunch gong rang, all four of them headed for the stairs. Millie and Petunia stopped at the lab.

  “The library’s just a little farther up the stairs,” Sagara said. “Come join us if you finish before recess is over.”

  “We’ll be right there,” Petunia said.

  Millie followed her into the lab. None of the teachers were there, just a bucket of sudsy water and a mop. Millie grabbed the mop.

  “Oh, don’t bother,” Petunia said. “I can fix this right up.” She pulled a bit of the sparkling white powder from her pouch and sprinkled it over the mud and slime on the floor. “Slime of green, mud supreme, make this floor be squeaky clean!”

  There was a faint pop, and the mess vanished, leaving a shiny, sparkling clean floor.

  “More pixie dust?” Millie said. “I thought that was terribly rare.”

  “Not for pixies, silly,” Petunia said.

  “So, it just makes things happen?” Millie asked.

  Petunia thought for a moment. “Nah, it sort of helps magic along. If I hadn’t used the cleaning charm, nothing would have happened. Pixie dust just sort of, well, makes it easier, like oiling a door hinge.”

  “I wish I had some,” Millie said. “Maybe I could actually get something right for once. I don’t suppose you could spare any?”

  Petunia shook her head. “I’m not allowed to give it away. Pixie code of honor. Besides,” she said with a wink, “you’d probably just turn it into powdered sugar or something. Now, do you want to go to the library or not?”

  They went a bit farther up the stairs and through a large arched entrance. Millie’s mouth fell open as she entered. She hadn’t known this many books existed. The walls of the room were lined with tall bookshelves, all full to bursting with books and scrolls. Shorter bookshelves formed a ring around a large scrying pool in the center of the room, and tables and desks were scattered between the ranks of shelves. Max and Sagara each sat at a table, poring through books. Next to the door, a dryad sat behind a very large desk, her hair a long trail of green leaves slightly lighter than the green teacher’s cap on her head.

  “Hello, Petunia,” she said. “Who’s your friend?”

  Petunia gave her a short bow. “Hello, Mistress Willow. We’ve come to do some research. This is Millie. She just started school on Onesday.”

  “Welcome, Millie,” said Mistress Willow. “Let me give you a tour.”

  “M-maybe another time,” Millie said. “I would love one, but right now, I need to research transformation potions.”

  Mistress Willow smiled. “Please come with me.”

  She led Millie over to a bookshelf marked Potions and Possets. “I’m not sure how much information you need. Here is an elementary text on potions, and here is another on potions that affect the material world, and here’s a specific text about transformations, although it’s
rather advanced.”

  Millie took them gratefully. “Thank you, Mistress.” She sat at a nearby table and began flipping through the elementary text, but it was all basic stuff that Millie had already learned from her mother. She tried the advanced text book and was almost immediately lost in explanations of what existence and transformation meant and the conversion rates between different materials. But the material potions book made a kind of sense, and she delved into it. Before long, she found a section on animal transformations, particularly frogs.

  The classic frog prince potion is especially tricky, as it must cause two transformations: once into a frog, and again to regain the subject’s original form. Thus, the potion must be left in an unfinished state. By adding the final ingredient (for example, true love’s kiss), the second transformation is triggered, and the spell is completed. This elegant solution is what makes a frog prince enchantment so hard to dispel. Because the spell is ongoing, it is exceedingly difficult to cancel.

  “Oh,” Millie breathed. A bit of orange peel to season chocolate sauce. Maybe all she needed to change Horace back was orange peel.

  The recess gong rang. “Time to go back to class,” Mistress Willow called out. “Please bring me any books you’d like to check out.”

  “You mean we can take these home?” Max asked.

  “For a few days,” Mistress Willow told him.

  Millie brought the material potions book to the librarian’s desk. Petunia was checking out a book of riddles and giggling to herself. Max put down a book on magical methods of storing information. Sagara hung back, waiting for the others to finish.

  As Millie left the library, she paused and peeked back through the archway. Sagara had a large book with an intimidating title: Portal Mechanics and the Practical Aspects of Realm Travel. Sagara quickly tucked the book into her robe, out of sight.

  Millie spent the afternoon in Forest Cultures class, talking about fairy culture and flower husbandry. Fairies ate only nuts, berries, and flower nectar, and their techniques for harvesting and processing the nectar were fascinating. After that, High Mystery was downright boring. Millie knew a fair amount of High Mystery already, and she could care less about verb tenses and mystical grammar.