Wild is the Witch
Rachel Griffin
For Mir, who walks by my side down every path, no matter how wild
Prologue
The wind was starting to build. Iris knew she should focus on the words of the witch in front of her, but instead her attention was on the sound of the trees. She concentrated so intently that the sound replaced everything else, drowning out the blood rushing through her veins and her heart beating wildly in her chest, louder and louder until even the witch’s voice faded to nothing.
Iris could feel the presence of the animals in the surrounding woods, the way their claws sunk into the forest floor and the way their ears perked up when a twig snapped in the distance. She didn’t have woods like that back home, and it took all her strength not to break into a run and disappear into the trees. They were wild, those animals, and perhaps Iris belonged with them.
“Ms. Gray?”
Iris startled at the sound of her name, and she blinked several times, narrowing her focus to Ana and trying to ignore the call of the wilderness around her.
“Did you hear what I said?”
Iris reached into her memory for the words the witch had spoken, but she couldn’t find them. Her mind was still stuck on that night one month prior, in a quaint blue house that overlooked the lake. The council had asked Iris to recount the events that had taken place that night, and she told them everything exactly as she remembered, every single detail down to the smell of putrid smoke and the sobs of her best friend.
Human flesh doesn’t burn the same as wood. It doesn’t crackle or spit sparks out in every direction. It isn’t cozy on a frigid night or romantic on a rocky beach. It’s horrifying the whole way through.
Iris wished she didn’t know that.
She swallowed and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
Ana walked around the large oak table where the rest of the council members sat. Iris stood facing them, her jaw aching from the constant grinding of her teeth. Her fingers worked the fabric on either side of her stiff, gray dress, the color the same as the pebbles that lined the perfectly manicured path leading to the front door of her family’s home.
When the witch reached her, she held out her hands to Iris. “With your permission, I’ll begin the reading.”
Iris looked to her right, trying to catch her father’s eyes, but he kept his gaze on the soggy ground. Her mother, however, looked right at her, never one to shy away from her daughter. Not even in anger or sadness or fear. Not ever. She nodded once, and Iris turned to the witch in front of her.
“You have my permission.”
Iris felt the magic working on her right away, the heat moving through her bloodstream and neural pathways, sliding through her mind in search of lies and deceit. She kept her eyes open, but the world around her disappeared until all she could see was a blanket of darkness with tiny pinpricks of light shining through, like the stars.
That was nature’s give, ensuring that every human under the sun would know undoubtedly when magic was being used on them. They would know when all they could see was starlight.
Ana was one of the most powerful Stellars alive, a witch whose magic was strongest on humans, and she read Iris in seconds.
Iris blinked as the darkness faded and the world came back into view. Ana watched her carefully, then walked back to the table where the rest of the Witches’ Council sat.
Iris tried not to think of how her best friend, Amy, had been rid of her ability to perceive magic in the very place Iris stood now, the cruelest of punishments handed down, even though Amy’s oldest sister sat on the council.
Iris had been sleeping when Amy had done the unthinkable, when she’d pulled her boyfriend to the water’s edge and turned him into a witch, just as he’d asked. Just as he’d wanted. Amy had been sure she’d be able to help him through the moments after, when he could suddenly see the magic of the universe and was desperate to pull it toward him, even though that magic could burn him alive. She’d believed she could stop him from commanding so much that it would incinerate him on the spot. She’d been wrong.
She’d been wrong, and Iris had been there.
Iris had woken to the sound of screams, and she’d run toward them. But she’d been too late, and the boy had turned from witch to ash before the moon had fully risen.
Iris closed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the memory. The council stood and took seven turns around the open field as they came to a verdict. Every trial was held outdoors, since a witch’s intuition was strongest when surrounded by the natural world. The day was heavy with fog, and the witches slipped in and out of view as they circled the large expanse of wild grasses and blooming lavender.
Iris kept her eyes on the rain-soaked earth and the dozens of dandelions growing in the field. She looked to her parents once more but was again met only by her mother. As the council completed their seventh turn, Iris pushed her palm to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.
The five witches reclaimed their seats at the long oak table and watched Iris, their facial expressions giving nothing away. Ana, the head of the council, stood as all the air fled Iris’s lungs.
Ana folded her hands in front of her. The wind picked up, sending strands of her black hair over her face, but she did not tuck them back.
She looked Iris right in the eyes as she spoke. “You’re free to go.”