Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(50)

And then Mom came out of the bushes, adjusting her clothing.

“What are you doing out here at two a.m.?” I asked, staring at her, I was sure with eyes wide.

“Never you mind, nosey pants. Isn’t the Council in there?’

What the heck was going on?

I looked after the Rolls – the bat was nowhere in sight.

Then I looked at Mom.

Then I answered, “Yes.”

“We best get you back in then.”

All I can say is, I know my Mom’s tone and that was that – bat or no bat.

* * * * *

Summing Up:

The Witches Council (with the unfortunate acronym of the W.C.) left not long after Mom and I went back inside.

They took Agatha Darling’s wand with them.

They talked about taking mine (apparently, a wand can contain the essence of the magic you perform. Given a certain amount of time, you can trace it. If you catch it in, say, a week or so, and the witch doesn’t use it too often to override the old magic, you can find out what spells were cast, yadda, yadda, yadda. But since I didn’t use my wand, they didn’t need to take it).

They expressed some disbelief about my ability (without my wand and as a novice – novice? ha!) to fight off Darling with her wands, both Wiccan and manmade, and all of her thugs.

Instead of waking Rory (who also had school tomorrow and who I didn’t want to be freaked out any more than he already was) I was forced to demonstrate by using the miniscule amount of magic I had stored. I threw a glimmery pink and silver baseball-sized sphere that exploded in silver sparks in the fireplace.

(Must say, pretty pleased with that performance, considering.)

“And that’s with only a few days recuperation,” Gran declared proudly.

The Council all stared in the fireplace then looked at me.

“We’ll be investigating further,” the Crone announced, sounding resigned and moving toward her broomstick.

“We’ll also need to discuss The Witches Dozen,” the Lady stated.

“Why?” Mavis asked, somewhat belligerently.

“We’ve had complaints. Formal complaints,” the Lady told her.

“Why?” Mavis asked, again belligerently.

(Was it me or did it seem the Lady and Mavis didn’t get on?)

“You know why, Mavis. You also know why we need to inquire about them,” the Crone answered.

“Prunella –” Mavis started.

The Crone waved her words away, sighing. “I’m too old for this malarkey.”

She grabbed her broomstick. “Endora, Myra… let’s go. By the time we get back, Seraphina will be awake and we can fill her in before she goes to school and then I can finally get to my bed.”

We stood outside, all of us, waiting for them to go (must say, at this point, it was good to have slippers and a robe – damn Ash for always being right).

The W.C. were ready, even had the broomsticks between their legs, when Prunella Craddock, the big cheese Council Witch, the Hag, turned to me and said, “One more thing, Mathilda Honeycutt, you’re suspended from doing magic until –”

Ack!

Suspended from doing magic?!

“You can’t!” That was Mavis.

“You must be joking!” That was Gran.

“I don’t believe it!” That was Mom.

“Hear me out!” the Crone snapped. “Until we come back.”

“When’s that going to be?” I asked (okay, maybe I whined, but what the f**k?)

“Soon. But, if you conjured that,” she pointed to the house, “with your magic dwindled then you’re far too powerful to be let alone until we assess and report on the extremes of your gift –”

“Bureaucracy,” Gran muttered.

“Until we investigate what happened on the Council Estate,” the Crone went on.

“Systematic red tape.” Gran again.

“And until we locate Agatha Darling and listen to her excuse of why she’s…” brief hesitation, “done what she’s done,” the Crone finished.

“Mathilda’s carrying her wand.” That was Ash, being bossy again.

“No.” Hmm, old Prunella didn’t seem to think Ash was all that. “Mavis,” she turned to my aunt, “I trust you to take her wand until our return.”

“She’s carrying her wand.” That was Ash again, his tone the teensiest bit sharper.

The Lady turned sharp eyes on him.

“Sebastian Wilding, you have no authority here,” she put in her two cents.

“I do, Endora, and you know I do. She’s carrying her wand and if she’s fired upon, she’s going to retaliate.”

The Crone butted in. “I’m sorry, young man, but I have to assert the Council’s privilege. By your and her account and our witness, she needs to be assessed. No one with that amount of magic should go about utilizing it until she’s registered.”

“Oh for goodness sake, she’s The Chosen One! What did you expect?” Mom exclaimed.

“If you tell me, Hanna, that you weren’t surprised at the caliber of her Craft, after only, what? Six, seven months of training then I’ll call you a liar,” Prunella retorted.

“Okay, so maybe she’s a little advanced,” Mom allowed.