Spellbound Chapter 14.

Chapter Fourteen.

 

Practice makes perfect.

 

Sophie tried her hardest to return to her old routine. She scrubbed cheese pans, brushed floors, minded the goats, fed the hens, all with a smile and not a single complaint.

It didn’t help. Something was wrong.

It took her a while to realise what it was: her aunt, and all the other women, were frightened of her.

She tried to talk to Aunt Meg, but Meg would not sit and chat. Even Uncle William, who had probably known all along she could do magic, kept his distance.

Sophie cried herself to sleep each night. She promised she would never use magic again, not even for small things like cleaning clothes.

Of course, the clothes weren’t as clean as before. Aunt Meg sighed, washed them again herself, and said nothing. That silence hurt more than any scolding.

“At least the goats aren’t scared of me,” Sophie thought as she sat by the stream watching them graze.

When they were done, she drove them into their hut and shut the door. Inside, Aunt Meg had made supper. They ate in silence. Uncle William wasn’t there.

When Sophie finished, Meg handed her a basket covered with a cloth. “Your uncle’s dinner. He’s down at the valley entrance. Take it to him, and don’t hang about.”

Sophie found William and the other men standing by a makeshift barrier, each holding some sort of weapon. She set the basket down beside her uncle. The men shuffled away, then shamefacedly shuffled back.

William picked up the basket and walked a little way with her. “I’m very sorry,” he said, scratching his head. “We ought to be grateful. You saved Meg and me from those thugs, and you made Margib remove the outlaw charge. But we’re not used to having a witch in the valley, especially one as powerful as you seem to be. Everyone’s frightened.”

“I didn’t know I was a witch,” said Sophie. “It frightens me too. I don’t know what I can do.”

“They’re scared you might get angry and… turn them into donkeys or something,” said William.

“I wouldn’t!” protested Sophie. “I’d never hurt you or Aunt Meg or anyone.”

“Not deliberately,” said William. “But by accident? Who knows?”

Sophie shook her head. “I do.”

“There’s something else,” William went on. “You may not know it, but there’s a witch in the Dark Forest. Long ago she made it clear that anyone doing witchcraft would be punished.”

“But Mum did witchcraft,” said Sophie. “She wasn’t punished.”

“The witch didn’t mind small magic, healing cuts, fixing bones, removing warts. She banned the sort of magic you used on those men… and on Margib.”

“Oh,” whispered Sophie. “I didn’t know.”

She paced up and down the path. “And you think she’ll come here and punish me?”

William hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”

Sophie sat down with a bump. “Oh.”

William sat beside her. “You’re our niece. We promised your parents we’d look after you, that’s why we brought you here, to keep you safe from Margib. But if the witch comes after you… I don’t think we could help. We’d try, because we love you, but what she’d do to us… I don’t know.”

“I won’t let anything happen to either of you,” said Sophie fiercely.

“I don’t think you’re strong enough to fight the old witch,” said William. “And if it came to a fight… anything could happen.”

“Is that why you’ve blocked the valley entrance?” Sophie asked.

William nodded. “Not that we think we could stop her. She’d cast a spell and—” he waved his hands “—poof, we’re gone. And you may have got rid of one lot of thugs, but if Margib offered a reward for your capture, others might come.”

“Then maybe I should leave,” said Sophie, crying. “If I go away, you’ll all be safe.”

William shook his head. “No. We made a promise, and promises are meant to be kept. Everyone in the valley feels the same. Now go home before dark. We’ll think of something.”

Sophie walked home slowly. Aunt Meg sat at the table with her head down. Sophie rushed over and hugged her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I promise I’ll never use magic again.”

Meg looked up. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. There’s magic in you, and no matter what you do, it will come out.”

“Then what do I do?” wailed Sophie.

Meg sighed. “When we lived in Dinthorn, Margib’s town, I made cheese, just like here. The first lot I ever made was so disgusting even our pig wouldn’t eat it.”

“Pig?” Sophie asked.

“Everyone had a pig then,” said Meg. “Anyway, I tried again and again until the cheese was good. Each time I failed, I thought about what I’d done wrong and worked out how to fix it.”

“I thought you always made great cheese,” said Sophie.

“Thank you,” said Meg. “Your father was a great carpenter, but when he first worked for old Mr Dimmery, he came home saying he’d never be any good, all fingers and thumbs. But he didn’t give up. He practised until he became the best craftsman for miles.”

“Practise,” said Sophie thoughtfully.

Meg nodded. “Little steps, until you can control the magic.”

“But what about the witch of the Dark Forest?” asked Sophie. “Uncle William said she punishes anyone who does magic except small stuff.”

“I saw her once,” said Meg. “When I was a girl. She rode a great black horse through town. Everyone knew her, black gown, pointed hat. She was old then. She must be very old now. Maybe she won’t realise you’re breaking her rules. And perhaps, if she does come, with practice you might be able to defeat her.”

She sighed. “Either way, you can’t keep it inside. If you try, you’ll explode.”

Then she laughed. “And it does save me washing all the clothes again, and the cheese pans have never been so clean.”

“Practise,” said Sophie. “If that’s what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do.”