Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(57)
“Perhaps we can call her a ‘Neophyte Sage’,” Endora offered (somewhat sarcastically, if you ask me).
I think I’ve told you how I feel about the word “Neo” – I certainly didn’t want it connected to me.
* * * * *
Confused?
Let me help:
Young witches start serious Magical Training somewhere within the year they start their period.
Witch Moms know when their daughters are about to “become women” (magic, nature, woman’s intuition, etcetera). So they’ll plan the training to begin either a few months before or after the first cycle (depending on family tradition).
This meant that by my age, the Honeycutt tradition and the time my period started, I should have already had 20 years of training.
You start at Tenderfoot (all witches before their periods are given the class of Tenderfoot –they have powers, even experiment with them, but are not yet taught to harness them in any real way, like being taught to speak but not learning to read until much later).
Then the Rankings (or Classes) go like this:
Level One: Practitioner (at start of training or at start of your monthly cycle)
Then you move through the upper levels of:
Level Two: Proficient (somewhere in your twenties/thirties)
Advanced Magic (or Magical License – when you’re allowed to create your own spells and use them or have your own Spellbounds and guard them without guidance):
Level Three: Adept (Su)
Level Four: Mistress (where Viv and Mom were – very advanced for Viv but she was always an over-achiever)
Level Five: Natural (Gran)
Level Six (top level): Sage (Mavis and Me)
So obviously, I am Big Freak.
* * * * *
I passed the tests with flying colors.
Mainly they think this happened because I’m The Chosen One so they think it has always been there, just hibernating.
Not to mention, they said (or Endora did) I wasn’t using my magic for twenty years when most witches were so I had a lot stored up in me.
(Of course, it couldn’t be months of reading, studying, reading, practicing, more reading, meditating, reading, communing with nature, reading, ad nauseum and so forth.)
Can’t go into detail about the tests. They are very, very secret and had to make blood vow of secrecy (blood vows, by the way, are not real fun) and can’t even share it with my Book of Shadows.
* * * * *
Anyhoo – just for the record:
Took wand (of course!).
Took Daphne (just so she could have an outing – she was a very good little kitty, minded well and clearly a prodigy mainly because she didn’t wander off).
Took my cloak but not my broom (can’t fly yet mainly because I’m scared shitless of heights).
My confederate was Mavis.
My other was Lucy (pissed off the W. C. to have a non-magical, non-Société person at W.C. Trial but Lucy totally dug it, even the blood vow business didn’t put her off).
* * * * *
So now am clear to do what I need to do.
Though don’t know what that is, exactly.
But am not going to waste time.
Chapter Eight
The Month of June
3 June
All hell has broken loose.
Kah-ray-zee.
I need a vacation. That’s what I need. A getaway. Even a long weekend.
Something.
Anything.
Good thing is, have learned to write in journal without actually writing – use magic.
Wish I thought of that earlier.
* * * * *
So – anyway – what should I tell first?
* * * * *
Worcestershire:
Decided to go do a little investigating.
Some (Ash) would say I was a little cocky after the W.C. Trial went so well.
But I was tired of sitting on my hands.
Am I The Chosen One or what?
I had names, addresses and maps, not to mention a new Mini Cooper.
I wish I could say that the weather was gorgeous and I could break out my sunnies and put the top down.
Instead, it was cold, misty and miserable and the only thing I dared do was wear flip-flops (in fact, I was going to wear flip-flops even if they killed me, which they very nearly did).
Had the Mini outside The Dozen, my wand in the back waistband of my jeans and my toenails varnished in Ultra-Frost.
Was perfectly willing to go on my own. But, as I was putting my takeaway latte in the cup holder, in my mirror I noticed Lucy straggling down the seafront pavement looking for her morning caffeine fix.
I was just going to poke around in Worcestershire, maybe (just maybe) swing by Althea Appleton’s house. No harm bringing Lucy, right?
So I asked her to come.
As we got Lucy’s double espresso installed in her cup holder, Su surprised us by crashing out of the side door of the beat up VW van parked next to us.
“What’re you two up to?” she asked.
Figured, if we could find a toothbrush along the way, having the extra firepower of Su couldn’t hurt.
Su left her boy toy snoring in the VW, grabbed a chai and then, as we were about ready to roll, Josie came stalking out of The Dozen.
“Where are you going?” she demanded.
Then, before any of us could answer, off she was on a tangent about how she was always left out, left behind, everyone thought she was weak, meek little Josephine and couldn’t take care of herself.