Rise of Allies (The Gryphon Chronicles, Book 4) (17 page)

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Very well. I will tell you, children. The success of any magic lies in the purity of your intentions,” she said in a grave tone. “There is little you can do to protect yourself if you are using your powers for selfish purposes. Eventually, that ulterior motive will catch up with you and there will be a price to pay. Sometimes a dreadful price. But if your intention is pure, mainly for the good of others, then you’ll find there is protection automatically built in. Your
reasons
for using magic in any given situation matter just as much as how efficaciously you perform the spell.”

Now Nixie raised her hand. “But, Your Ladyship,” she asked, “what if your reasons are mixed? Some pure, some selfish?”

“Then your results will be mixed, too. Good mixed with bad, benefit with danger, blessing with curse.”

They pondered this for a long moment, then the bell rang, ending their session.

The kids started filing out, but Lady Bradford called to Nixie. “Miss Valentine, would you stay behind, please? I should like a moment of your time.”

“Yes, Your Ladyship.” Nixie automatically wondered if she was in trouble—if, somehow, the Elder witch had looked into a crystal ball or something and found out what had happened in Scotland. She swallowed hard as she walked up to the front of the room, where Lady Bradford still sat at the writing desk.

A few of the other kids sneered at Nixie for being singled out. Two stuck their tongues out at her as they left, no doubt hoping she was in the suds.

When the room had emptied, the Elder witch turned to her with a fond gaze and searched her eyes. “I saw your Assessment yesterday, Miss Valentine, and I must say, you are doing work far beyond your years. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. I practice all day, every day, p-pretty much.”

“And who is your teacher?”

“Um, I am mainly self-taught, my lady,” she said in embarrassment. “I inherited my grandmother’s grimoire a couple of years ago. That’s how I got started. More recently, I received some training from the gypsies who took me in when I had to leave my home. Madam Zordova is especially strong in fortunetelling.”

“I see. May I ask why you had to leave your home?”

Nixie lowered her gaze. “My stepfather hates magic. He’s an ordinary mortal. My mother never really took to it, either, you see. It was more my grandmother’s art. Mother was always embarrassed about it. So, she never told him about the gift that runs in her side of the family.

“Then the Kinderveil lifted off me when I was only nine, and she told me to hide it. I tried the best I could, but for a while, I couldn’t control it at all. Odd things, magical things, kept happening around me whether I wanted them to or not, until finally, my stepfather got fed up with all my mishaps and said I must be cursed.”

“Oh, dear,” Lady Bradford murmured.

“I finally made Mother explain to him about our magical bloodlines, and that only made him fly into a rage. He said he wouldn’t have married her if he had known, and I got so cross at him for making her cry that I sort of accidentally made a ladder fall on him.

“He almost walked out on her entirely, but Mama pleaded with him to stay. He said he would, but only on one condition: no magic. He said he wouldn’t have it in the house, so Mama made me promise. Honestly, I tried! But I-I can’t help it. It just comes out of me. I couldn’t hide it forever! It’s who I am!”

“Believe me, I understand,” she said softly. “Go on.”

“I decided to convince my stepfather it was safe. That I could use my abilities to make their lives easier. They both work so hard, so I made some servitors to do Mama’s chores around the house for her and help him in his shop. I was only trying to help. But when he saw them, he flew into a rage again and called me devil’s spawn.”

“Ah,” Lady Bradford said with a faint wince. “That is most unfair. Take comfort in knowing that countless great witches before you have been called the same thing—and worse. So, then he threw you out?”

“No, he sent for the priest to do an exorcism on me. As soon as they left me alone, I packed my things and ran away.”

“Poor child. You were fortunate to be taken in by these gypsies you mentioned. I am surprised they knew to bring you here.”

“Well…no,” Nixie conceded. “They kicked me out, too, about a month ago. I brought too much attention to their caravan. I really can’t blame them. They have enough problems as it is, you know, traveling around all the time, getting kicked off of other people’s fields. When a farmer or a town is kind enough to let them camp out for a few weeks, the last thing they needed was me ruining everything with my, er, magical experiments.”

Actually, it was the creatures haunting her that had ruined everything, plaguing the gypsies with their poltergeist activity, but at this point, it seemed like semantics.

Right then, Nixie was sorely tempted to tell Lady Bradford about the Bugganes, but she didn’t dare. No doubt it would only lead to greater torment.

The Elder witch frowned, studying her. “Well, if you can’t return to the gypsies, where will you go when the Gathering is over?”

“Um…” Nixie turned red with shame and dropped her gaze. “I haven’t quite figured that out yet—oh, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m like a cat, ma’am. Always land on my feet.”

Lady Bradford harrumphed. “This will not do. It will not do at all!”

Nixie looked up as Lady Bradford rose. “Sorry?”

“Something must be done with you, Miss Valentine! A young witch of your talent cannot be left to her own devices. Not if I have anything to say about it. T’isn’t safe! Come.”

Nixie backed away a little. “Ma’am?”

“We must get you sorted with some training and a stable home environment. To be sure, you’ve made astounding progress on your own, but you will never achieve your full potential without the proper guidance. It would be folly to leave you out there unprotected. We can’t have the Dark Druids claiming you, now, can we?”

“No, ma’am,” she answered with a gulp.

“Leave this to me,” the Elder witch ordered. “Trust me, dear Nixella. We will fix your situation and get you the training you so richly deserve.”

“But, my lady, I have no means of paying for it—”

“Pish, not a word. Follow me.”

Nixie’s heart pounded as Lady Bradford marched out of the room into the crowded hallway, where the other classes were also letting out. Jostled every which way by the throng of people milling around in the corridor, Nixie hurried to keep up.

“Where are we going, my lady?”

“After all you’ve endured, I daresay you could do with the chance to make a few friends who aren’t mages and thus won’t be jealous of your abilities.”

Lady Bradford strode ahead, her spine erect, her chin high, the crowd parting for her, everyone greeting her with respect that bordered on awe. She lifted a willowy arm and beckoned to get the attention of someone in the hall.

“Isabelle, darling! Over here! Bring Daniela, too. Miss O’Dell! Come along, gels. There’s someone I wish you to meet.”

When the two girls came over, Nixie recognized the ginger-haired Irish lass, Dani, who had been palling around with the Griffon heir and the amusing Archie Bradford last night during their uncomfortable meeting. The older girl she did not know, however, until the old woman introduced them.

Miss Isabelle Bradford was golden-haired and ridiculously pretty, and Nixie was intrigued to discover, upon hearing her last name, that she was Archie’s older sister. She seemed absurdly nice, but Nixie eyed her warily. She had her reasons to avoid making friends.

Isabelle was smiling at Nixie as though she were a lovely, colored egg she had found in the midst of an Easter egg hunt. The redhead, however, looked a bit more skeptical.

Nixie frowned at both of them and backed away with an uneasy stare. Jenny Greenteeth had meant it when she said she wasn’t allowed to have any friends. The horrible, fanged hag had even killed poor Midnight, Nixie’s black cat. Every witch was supposed to have a cat, but the Bugganes had murdered hers. When they said “no friends,” she knew they meant it.

But if Isabelle’s beaming smile wasn’t bad enough, Nixie nearly choked when Lady Bradford mentioned that her niece was an empath.

Holy Hecate!
The last thing Nixie needed was some angel-faced do-gooder trying to read her emotions and wanting to help—or worse, using empath powers to pry into her thoughts and find out what she was hiding.

I’ve got to get out of here. Get away from these two!

“Now then,” Her Ladyship concluded, “I’ll leave you girls to enjoy the day’s festivities. I’m off to make a few inquiries on Miss Valentine’s behalf. Nixella, I will be in contact with you as soon as I have news.”

“Thank you so much, my lady,” she mumbled.

“You are very welcome, child,” the Elder witch replied, then left them.

The empath turned to her. “Miss Valentine, do you wish to take a walk with us? We’re off to go and watch the Morris dancers. We’d be very pleased if you’d care to join us.”

Her gentle tone made Nixie’s suspicious scowl deepen. Was this girl for real? Nobody was that sweet. The redhead looked askance at Isabelle, but Nixie was already backing away.

“No, thank you, Miss Bradford,” she said in a prickly tone. “I have some studying I have to do before supper.”

“Oh, you sound like my brother,” she said with a chuckle. “Always buried in his books! Well, as you wish. But if you see us in the dining hall later, do come and join us at our table. You have to meet my brother, Archie, and my cousin, Jake. The boys are always entertaining.”

“Thanks.”
But no thanks,
she did not add aloud.

With naught but a vague nod, Nixie hurried away.

#  #  #

Dani nudged Isabelle. “What’d you go inviting her to dine with us for? Crikey, you’re as bad as your brother.” She pulled Isabelle’s arm down to stop her from waving goodbye to the gloomy grump of a witch.

Isabelle turned to her in surprise. “Why ever not?”

“One, because she’s mean,” Dani said, ticking the reasons off on her fingers. “Two, because she’s shifty. She met the boys last night and didn’t even mention it just now. And three, most of all, because Jake thinks she might be the Dark Druids’ spy.”

“What?” Isabelle started laughing. “Oh, Dani, don’t be absurd. She’s not a spy. She’s just a little thing.”

“How do you know? Did you read her? Are you sure?”

“Well, no…”

“Did you sense
anything
from her?” Dani persisted.

“She sped off so fast I didn’t think to try. Now, what’s this about the boys meeting her?”

“I was there, too. We found her creeping around the hallways last night while you were at the ball, and we saw this grayish blob thing. It attacked Archie, and then it disappeared—”

“What? Something attacked my brother—?”

“Don’t worry, it didn’t hurt him. It just slimed him. We warned him not to touch it, but you know he had to try. Then it ran away—well, floated, I should say—so we chased it. But instead of finding it, we found her instead. Don’t you think that’s an awfully strange coincidence?”

“Hmm,” Isabelle said. She thought it over, then shrugged. “Aunt Ramona is nobody’s fool. Whose word are you going to take, that of an Elder witch or a boy who’s suspicious of everybody?” She shook her head as they ambled down the hallway. “I can’t believe he took you spy-hunting. He’s quite mad.”

Dani frowned. “Then why is she so grumpy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s got cares of her own. I’ll try to read her next time we meet. What did Archie think of her? He’s usually a good judge of character.”

“Oh, Isabelle, you know your brother. Archie gets along with everybody. Just because
he
doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, he thinks everyone else must be the same. Actually, though, he especially liked Miss Valentine.”

“Oh, really?” Isabelle turned to her in surprise.

Dani nodded with a grin. “Mm-hmm. I think he fancies her. He even got offended when me and Jake said she might be the spy. He got all chivalrous and came to her defense.”