Everyday Witches

“Annabelle,” Ricky said, his voice wavering. “The Gaia is so beautiful, but I’m starting to feel a little dizzy.” He swiped a hand across his brow, pushing the curls aside and wiping off a sheen of sweat.

Annabelle hovered in front of his face, peering at him with concern. His eyes were a bit unfocused and he did look uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Ricky. I can see how it might be overwhelming. I can dust you again and remove the effects if you’d like.” Ricky nodded and Annabelle went through the process again, this time producing a dust with negating effects. When she applied it, Ricky blinked several times and then sighed in relief.

“Thanks Annabelle,” he said with a grin. His gaze shifted behind her, to where the golf carts were returning from the main house. “My cousins are here,” he said excitedly, pointing to one of the golf carts. There were several adults seated in the cart alongside Jude and the wagon behind held a group of waving teenagers.

Turning around to look in that direction, Annabelle flew close to Ricky’s ear so that he could hear her over the approaching engines. “I’m so glad that your family is here Ricky, and I hope you have a wonderful time. Now go have some fun!” She waited until Ricky had run off to greet his cousins and then went to join Marge at the buffet tables.

“I’m really just a little worried about him,” Maria was saying to Marge. The two ladies stood behind one of the serving tables, their heads close together, deep in conversation. Maria picked at a tiny spot on her white, ruffled blouse and then smoothed it back down. “I mean, he’s twenty three already. If he doesn’t get his act together, he’s going to be a bachelor for the rest of his life. And he doesn’t seem to like Callie at all. I admit that they’re not exactly perfect for each other, but she’s a good woman and there aren’t many other suitable witches around here right now.”

Marge patted her friend’s hand and then put an arm around her shoulder, giving her a little hug. “Jude will be fine,” she said emphatically. “Sometimes these things just take a little time. You know, it took me a while to meet Jeff too. I grew up in a tiny little town, and there weren’t any eligible witches for me to choose from at all. I just happened to meet him when I moved here for college. And then the rest was history. I’m sure Jude will find the right person too. He just needs to try some things and maybe decide what he really wants.” She picked up a glass of lemonade that sat on the table in front of her and took a sip, savoring the cool liquid. The shade was nice, but the Texas heat was still stifling. She nudged the other glass towards Maria. “Try some,” she said, “It’s good.”

“You know,” Marge continued, setting her glass back down on the table and raising an eyebrow. “I could talk to Jeff’s sister Sarah about it. She might know of someone we could set him up with. If you really want to get serious about it anyway.” She gathered up the mop of curls from the back of her neck and held her hair up with one hand while fanning her neck with the other. She had no idea how Maria could look so cool and collected out here while she herself was sweating like a pig. Maria’s eyes lit up at the mention of speaking to Sarah and she started to reply, but just then a crashing sound came from the wooded area behind them.

The witches collectively turned to look at the fence line that bordered the property and a little gasp went up from the crowd as a large horse like creature bounded out of the woods and over the fence, landing on the grass a few feet away from the end of the buffet table. One of the kids screamed and the witches began chattering as one and moving in towards the horse. Marge stifled a smile and shook her head at Maria, putting a hand in front of her to keep her from rushing in too.

“Alas,” Jude called out, melodramatically, from down the field. “’Tis the dreaded Quepie!” A murmur went up as everyone turned to look at Jude, who was standing near the large circle of stones. He had a big knapsack on his back and was standing heroically, with his chest puffed out and his hands on his hips. When he had everyone’s attention he reached a hand up to swipe dramatically at the hair on his forehead and then thrust an arm out to point at the Quepie. “At last the trouble maker has been found. We have searched and finally located the culprit who has sickened the children and threatened the safety of our town.” He reached up to a pair of glasses that sat on top of his head and flipped them down over his eyes. Then he spun the knapsack around to the front and began digging around inside; pulling out a pair of gloves and a silver chain.

The crowd whispered among themselves and many of them smiled and nodded in understanding. Marge searched the group for Ricky and found him standing beside his cousins, still wide-eyed and uncertain. She briefly debated going over to him but then relaxed as she saw Jeff move in beside him. James and Brandon drifted over to Jude from a spot near the golf carts. He handed them their own pairs of gloves and glasses and as they donned their Quepie hunting gear along with him, James explained to the group, with much less fanfare, what was going on.

“Recently, we had a run in with a magical creature in town; and we figured there was no better way to celebrate our magical heritage than a reenactment of the event.” He focused his attention on Ricky, who was watching them raptly as the explanation unfolded. “Being part of a magical community means sometimes having to deal with creatures the rest of the world never sees. Now Jude will teach you all about these types of things during your sessions, but we wanted you to see first hand what the other side of life can be like.” He gestured toward Jude and Brandon beside him; Jude still posing comically. “These two young men were instrumental in protecting our town from a magical creature that invaded recently. It poisoned a handful of local children and posed a risk to the entire community. And you may have the opportunity to have these types of experiences yourself one day, depending on the path you choose.” James gave Ricky a little salute and then he turned his attention back to the rest of the crowd.

“Now, this Quepie,” he pointed to the horse like creature, raising a hand to the side of his face. He lowered his voice to a loud, stage whisper and spoke to one side of his hand, as if sharing a secret. “It’s really just Juan with a transformation potion.” He winked and lowered his hand, then continued in an elaborate voice. “This Quepie must be dealt with just as before!”

The gathered witches laughed and chattered with relief as the three men finished pulling on their gloves and then comically charged in towards the false Quepie. They circled around and took turns charging at one another, feigning an epic battle scene that was really more action packed than the original event; but leaving out the part where Brandon had become bespelled by the creature. As James leaped towards the Quepie and was thrown to the ground, rolling away in defeat, the crowd groaned as one and Ricky yelled out to the witches in encouragement. Marge glanced over at him, relieved to see that he seemed to be enjoying himself. She had hoped that he would come around to his new way of life once his family and friends were gathered around and having fun.

Once the three men had “captured” the Quepie, slinging the silver chain around its neck, Jude reached into the backpack again and pulled out a large beach towel and a small vial. He handed the towel to James and Brandon and they draped it around the Quepie, each holding on to one side so that it covered the body of the creature. Then Jude pulled the stopper from the vial in his hand and splashed the liquid onto the Quepie’s skin. Ricky and some of the other younger witches gasped as the horse-like features quickly melted away and the size of the figure itself shrunk, transforming into the human form of Juan.

As the horses hooves re-formed into Juan’s hands, he reached for the towel that the two men still held around him and pulled it tightly about himself, tucking it in tightly at the waist. Then he held one hand up in the air and bowed low, gesturing royally with the other hand. The group clapped and cheered in response and several loud whistles rung out.

“Okay folks,” Juan said, patting at the air in a suppressing motion as he addressed the crowd. “I’ve got to go get dressed.”

A few people snickered and one responded, “Yes, you do!”

“But, but,” Juan continued, “We’ve got some really cool things for you guys to check out. The dragonfly race is coming up and Gage has set up a potion table with some fun things for you to try. And of course, we can thank the Johnsons for the incredible barbecue buffet.” He gestured towards the tables and then bowed once again as the crowed clapped and shouted thank yous to the Johnsons. Then, as the commotion died down he made a beeline for one of the golf carts, climbing aboard to drive back to the main house to get dressed.

The gathered crowd dispersed, most of the witches heading over to the buffet tables for food. At one end of the serving tables, opposite the barbecue pit, sat a little booth that held an odd assortment of potions for the witches to try out. Gage, family friend and owner of the thrift shop that doubled as a potion emporium had offered to provide some samples for entertainment and also to run the dragonfly races. While the other witches were having their suppers, the older man stood at the booth talking to Annabelle; who was holding tightly to the dragonfly leashes that would keep the insects tethered until the race. Although Marge and the other witches were steadfastly against the capture and imprisonment of any magical creatures, dragonflies were another matter. They were beloved among the magical communities, especially the winged fae who often kept them as pets; and were generally thought of as good luck, and good to have around. They weren’t regarded as quite on the same level as the other creatures however, and it wasn’t considered bad form for a fairy or a pixie to keep one on a leash on occasion.

On this particular occasion, however, Annabelle had six dragonflies on leashes and her own wings were fluttering furiously in an effort to keep them corralled as they strained at their leashes like a bunch of live balloons. Gage, noticing her distress, offered a hand.

“Annabelle, would you like me to hold on to the little guys for you?” He pushed up his small, gold rimmed glasses with an index finger and then gestured towards the dragonflies.

“Thank you,” Annabelle responded with a nod. She began to pull apart the leashes, which were as thin as the thinnest dental floss. Keeping one for herself, she handed the other five to Gage. The one she held onto was the smallest and incredibly cute. When she had unburdened herself of the others, she pulled the little dragonfly in close and petted its head affectionately. It buzzed happily and gently butted its head up against her in return. Gage, holding onto all five leashes between a thumb and index finger, held them up to look at more closely. His naturally carefree expression lightened even more as the dragonflies swirled and buzzed around him.

“This never gets old, does it,” he asked, glancing at Annabelle and continuing to smile. “It’s the little things in life.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Annabelle responded, her own voice not much louder than the buzz of the dragonflies. She gave her favorite another little pat and then descended gracefully to the table top. Walking carefully among the potion bottles and knickknacks she stopped at a little clearing near Gage’s side of the table. When she was well positioned and her tiny feet solidly upon the table, she sifted a small amount of green dust into her hand and then spread it across her dragonfly’s frons; the large smooth area on the front of the face where a nose would be on a witch or a fairy.

“Okay, next!” Annabelle waved to Gage and he bent over the table, the fringed vest he wore over his tank top pooling around the edge of the table. He held the group of dragonflies out towards Annabelle to dust. One by one, she sifted a different color of dust for each dragonfly, smearing a small amount onto their faces so that the witches would be able to distinguish between them after the race. As she worked, some of the younger attendees started to drift over and gather around Gage’s table.

Ricky appeared first, greeting Annabelle happily and settling in to watch as she continued to add the color to the dragonflies. Catalina, Gage’s sixteen year old granddaughter moved in beside Ricky and patted him on the shoulder, congratulating him on his initiation. Then she turned her attention to the dragonflies, claiming the red one as her bet for winner. Being older, she had been to these functions before and knew the ropes well. Gage smiled at his granddaughter and carefully separated the silken leash that held the dragonfly with the red dust. Holding it carefully, he handed it to Catalina.

“Which one do you want, Ricky? You ought to have first choice, actually.” Gage held the bunch of dragonflies out to Ricky to assess. Ricky leaned in close, laughing as one of the dragonfly’s wings brushed up against his face. He backed away and rubbed briskly at his skin, his cheeks reddening just a bit with the friction and the embarrassment.

“I think I’ll bet on the blue one,” Ricky said, pointing a finger but maintaining his distance this time.

Juan’s nineteen year old twin grandsons, Domingo and Benicio came up to the table; Benicio wrapping an arm around Ricky and giving him a gentle noogie.

“What’s up little man?” Benicio released his hold on Ricky, who promptly set to smoothing out his curls. “I haven’t seen a dragonfly race in a while!” He leaned in and looked at them closely. “I’m betting on the purple one, myself. See how it’s all skinny right here?” He pointed at his pick and Ricky leaned in beside him, nodding. “That’s the winner, for sure!”

Domingo nudged his brother out of the way and moved in beside Ricky. “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He gave Ricky a silly face, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. “I’m going for the pink one anyway.” He turned to Benicio, poking a finger at his chest. “And I bet he beats your dragonfly’s butt!”

Gage shook his head, smiling faintly at the young men. “Okay, okay, guys. Just let me get them separated. Then we’ll get the track set up. And Sarah’s kids can pick from the last two. He carefully slid the leashes apart and handed the dragonflies to their claimants. Then he handed the last one to Annabelle, who held it in tow along with the other. With his hands freed now he leaned down to dig around beneath the table. Momentarily he popped back up, holding a bucket full of supplies for the race.

He walked around the table and set the bucket back down on the grassy expanse in front. Then he leaned down and began to pull things out, laying them out on the grass beside his feet. There were several long, thin sticks, a roll of fluorescent string, and a fancy drawstring bag. The others watched as he began to set up the race track, placing the sticks about a foot apart, forming two parallel lines. Then he unwound some of the string and looped it around the sticks, forming two lines that the dragonflies would race between. At the end of the track he placed one final stick and then fished delicately around the drawstring bag, pulling something out and holding it gingerly between two fingers. It was sticky and formless and he carefully placed it at the top of the stick and then, looking at his fingers in distaste he wiped them quickly on his denim pants.

“Okay guys, I think we’re ready,” he called loudly across the field. The rest of the witches who were scattered across the campground began to trickle over. “Since this is Ricky’s initiation, he gets to be the officiant for the race,” he continued, patting Ricky on the back and indicating that he should go stand at the head of the newly formed track. We’ve got six entries and we just need Sarah’s kids to claim the last two dragonflies.” He waved at Jeff’s sister, who was making her way over from the buffet table, along with her two kids.

Turning to address the contestants, he said, “Now we need everyone to line up at the starting line with their dragonfly and then wait for the word ‘GO’. Everyone MUST release the leashes as soon as the word is given, and the dragonfly who makes it to the other end first gets the prize and the glory. I’ve got a nice little bundle of mosquitoes and flies here that Annabelle gathered up for the lucky winner. And since it’s Ricky’s special day, he’ll be the one to call the winner.

While the younger witches who were sporting entries were lined up at the starting line, the rest of the witches gathered around in a large circle to watch. Marge and Jeff claimed a spot near the finish line and as Annabelle settled in on Marge’s shoulder for the duration Marge gave Ricky a thumbs up and a proud smile. Ricky, who had lost his earlier sense of unease was grinning broadly too and waved excitedly before turning his attention back to the track. Gage gave the word and the witches each dropped their leashes, freeing the dragonflies. A hush fell over the group as the witches waited eagerly to see who would win. Sensing the prize that was waiting at the end of the track, they each zoomed off, the gossamer leashes trailing behind like spider’s silk. Almost immediately, one of the dragonflies went over the side of the track that was formed by the neon string and was disqualified. Catalina broke the silence when she realized that it was hers that had veered off track, pounding a fist into her other hand and complaining loudly. The final five zipped down the track toward the end; two of the dragonflies leading the way while the other three lagged behind. Finally, the two in the lead approached the end of the track and at the last moment one of them pulled ahead, crossing the finish line first.

Ricky jumped up and down in excitement. “It’s blue! It’s blue! I won!” The gathered witches clapped happily, while the younger witches grumbled at their losses. Ricky’s dragonfly munched contentedly on its treat at the end of the race track, and Ricky made a victory lap of his own. He circled around the track, giving high fives to the witches who were still clustered around. Then, returning to his spot by the finish line, he pumped a fist into the air happily. Gage came up beside him and congratulated him, announcing to the crowd that he was the official winner. He pulled something out of his jeans pocket and held it up for the crowd to see. Then he placed the prize necklace over Ricky’s head and shook his hand enthusiastically. Ricky thanked him and waved to the crowd. Then, tucking the necklace in beneath his shirt, he combed the familiar faces in search of his cousins.

Behind him, Gage began walking the track; wrapping up the string and then pulling the sticks out of the ground and setting them back into the bucket with a thunk. Ricky quickly scooted out of the way and went back to searching the crowd. The witches that had been gathered around the track had begun to disperse, drifting over to the buffet tables or seeking shade beneath the beach umbrellas that were interspersed among the ring of stones. While Ricky stood searching for his cousins, his grandfather, Winston, struggled to push himself up from the chair he had staked out beneath one of the umbrellas and made his way slowly across the field to Ricky.

As he stumped across the grass, supporting himself heavily on an ornately tooled wooden cane, Winston held up his other hand and waved it vigorously to get Ricky’s attention. Glancing towards the buffet tables, he saw that Marge and the rest of the family were occupied with dinner. This would be the perfect time. The camouflage bucket hat that he’d worn to outings like this for many years had become large on him after a recent weight loss and it slid down to cover his eyes when his arm brushed up against it. Mumbling under his breath, Winston tugged it back up on his head, twisting it back and forth until he had it well situated once again. He continued across the open field until he was within a few feet of Ricky and then stopped as the boy ran up to him and threw his arms around him.

“Hi Gramps,” Ricky exclaimed, squeezing him tightly and then stepping back. He reached under his shirt for the medal he’d won at the dragonfly race and showed it off proudly. “Did you see that? I won! My first ever race, and I won!”

Winston chuckled and ruffled a hand through his grandson’s curly hair. “Congratulations son. It’s certainly a fitting award for your special day.” He smiled, his thin lips forming the shape, but hardly budging the sternness of his face. “I’m so proud of you,” he continued. “This is a big day in any young witch’s life and you deserve to be able to celebrate. I’d like to give you something though, if you’ll give me a minute of your time.” He gestured towards the wagon end of one of the golf carts that was parked in the shade by the trees. Then he put a hand behind Ricky’s shoulder and steered him in that direction, walking slowly again with the aide of his cane. Ricky shuffled along beside him until they came up to the wagon and then hopped lithely up onto the slightly elevated surface. Winston put a hand down on the wagon’s bed and gingerly lifted himself onto the seat, settling heavily onto the wooden slats as they dipped beneath the men’s weight. When his feet were planted firmly, he settled the cane between them and leaned forward, resting his weight on the intricately engraved horse’s head knob. Ricky scooted farther up in the wagon bed, his legs dangling off the end of the wagon.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, watching the gathered witches as they chatted and enjoyed their dinners. The sun was beginning to sink low on the horizon and it glowed like an orange fireball above the treeline that skirted the neighboring farm. Down the field, the corn crows were settling in to roost and they squawked noisily, vying for position among the towering ears of corn. Winston pulled rhythmically at the front of his white tactical shirt, fanning it out from his chest so that the breeze would flow through the vented seams. He pushed his bucket hat a little further up on his head and then peered at his grandson from the corner of his eye. Finally he sighed and reached a hand into one of the cargo pockets on his khaki shorts. Pulling out a little velvet box, he set it on the wagon in between his leg and Ricky’s. Then he nudged his grandson with an elbow.

Ricky looked up at Winston, his eyes impossibly blue, just like his mother’s. He started to ask what his grandfather had wanted, but Winston pointed at the little box. Ricky let out a little ‘oh’ and then picked up the box and set it on his denim clad lap. He pried up the hinged lid to reveal an army medal.

“That’s my Vietnam Service Medal,” Winston said in his gravelly voice. He poked a work worn and wrinkled finger at the medal in the box. “I was drafted into the Army when I just a little bit older than you and I served my first tour there. If you’ll lift it out, you can see that I had Annabelle inscribe a couple of runes on the back for you.”

Ricky lifted the medal reverently from the velvet case and turned it over in his hands, looking at it closely. On the front was the emblem embossed by the Army; a dragon hidden among a grouping of bamboo. He flipped it over to the other side and saw a crossbow and the torch of liberty, with the inscription ‘United States of America’ across the bottom. To either side of the crossbow there were tiny flowing characters which had obviously been added after the production of the original medal.

Winston grunted and nodded towards the medal. “Since this is such a special day for you, and you’re a man now, I thought that you might want to keep this and to use it as your focusing object.” He paused. “You do know what a focusing object is, right?” Ricky shook his head, sending his hair cascading around his face.

“No matter,” Winston continued. “You’ll have plenty of time to go over it later. It’s an object that’s used in invoking certain kinds of magic though.” He sighed and clapped a heavy hand onto Ricky’s shoulder, causing the boy to slump a little. Surprised, Winston picked his hand up and let it hover above Ricky’s shoulder for a moment before giving him a much gentler pat and setting his hand back onto his lap.

“Anyway, the thing about this medal is that I was drafted right into the Army as a youngster and it put me at a nexus in life just like the one you’re at now. You’re a witch now,” he looked at his watch and chuckled. “Or at least you will be in about an hour or two. And there’s so much in store for you there. Sometimes you’ll feel proud as hell about where you’re at, sometimes you’ll regret that life ever put you in this place, and either way you’ll do the best you can to make your people proud and keep them safe. And I hope that, if this focusing object works well for you, you’ll remember me and just how proud I am of you every time you use it. And if it doesn’t, then you can just hang on to it for a keepsake.” He was a little out of breath after the long speech and he coughed softly, pounding a fist gently on his chest to loosen it up.

“Are you okay, Gramps,” Ricky asked, his eyes narrowed in concern. He set the medal down in his lap and turned sideways so that he was facing his grandfather. He hadn’t noticed before but Winston looked paler and thinner than usual.

Winston finished his cough and nodded, catching his breath. “I’m fine son, it’s just a cough.”

“It didn’t sound like just a cough,” Ricky said warily. “And you look like you aren’t feeling well.”

Winston sighed. “Alright, alright. But… can you keep a secret? I haven’t wanted to worry your mother with it so I haven’t told her yet.” Ricky nodded solemnly, his eyes large and round.

Winston pulled off his camouflage hat and held it in front of him with both hands, smoothing the fabric distractedly. “It’s congestive heart failure,” he said, letting out a breath as if he had been holding it in without realizing it. “It’s not a death sentence, but it carries some risks and can be dangerous if you’re not careful.” Steeling his resolve, he settled the hat back onto his head and gave Ricky a stern look.

“I don’t want you all to worry about me now, especially your mother. And I’ll tell the rest of them about it soon, but I didn’t want to ruin the festivities with bad news like this. So, keep it to yourself for now please.” He paused and looked at his grandson until the young man finally nodded. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. It’s just one of those things that you have to deal with in life sometimes.” He nodded himself, as if that was that, and then fell silent. The two men stared off at the campground for several minutes without saying another word, each one lost in their own thoughts.

Finally Ricky said, “Don’t worry Gramps. I won’t tell anyone until you’re ready. And I’m sure you’re right, and you’ll be okay. You’re the toughest man I know.” He reached over to give Winston a hug and the older man wrapped an arm around him in return.

“And thanks for the war medal,” Ricky continued. “It means a lot to me; I’ll keep it with me always.” He let his arms fall to his lap and turned so that his legs hung off the back of the wagon again. He kicked them up and down gently, causing the wagon to sway slowly beneath them.

“I’m glad you like it, son,” Winston said gruffly. He wasn’t used to such emotional exchanges and was a little uncomfortable, but he had accomplished his mission. Holding firmly to his cane, he eased himself off of the wagon. “Now let’s go check out that potion table before the ceremony starts. I hear your old friend there came up with some really neat stuff to try out.” He gave Ricky a small smile, and started towards Gage’s table, leaving Ricky to hop down from the wagon and follow along behind.

Over at the potion table, several of the younger witches and a few of the adults had already gathered around to try out the samples Gage had brought along. The table was draped in a black tablecloth and had several woven baskets placed strategically across the top, each one brimming with bottles of various types of potions. In front of each basket sat a little card that identified the type of potion. Gage, noticing him looking, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out a little stoppered vial. He smiled devilishly and reached across the table, placing it in Ricky’s hand.

“Try this one out,” he said, raising his eyebrows and waggling them a few times. “Just make sure you step back a few feet from the table first.

Ricky looked around at the other witches questioningly. No one offered an explanation but they all smiled encouragingly. Jude was at one end of the table and he nodded, mouthing ‘it’s okay’ to Ricky. Nervous, but also quite curious Ricky stepped back from the table and began to pull the stopper out of the vial.

“What do I do with it,” he asked hesitantly. “Do I have to drink it?”

The other witches chuckled and Jude replied with a laugh, “No, no, don’t drink it. You just have to get some of it on your skin. You can just pour it in your hand if you want.”

Ricky nodded, relieved, and pulled the stopper the rest of the way out of the vial. He held the vial up with one hand and slowly began to pour it into the other. He gasped as his feet lifted off the ground and he rose a few feet in the air, hovering there for a moment before returning to the ground with a thump.

“How, how…,” he asked wonderingly, looking at Jude and then his grandfather, and finally settling his gaze on Gage. “I flew!”

The other men chuckled lightly and Winston clapped a hand on Ricky’s back. “I told you there’d be some fun stuff to try out,” he said, his eyes twinkling now. Ricky was relieved to see that he looked more like his old self.

“It’s a variation of the standard levitation potion,” Gage added proudly, taking off his gold rimmed glasses and polishing them absently with his t-shirt. “I tweaked it a bit so that it wouldn’t last too long, or send you flying off into space. Not so practical really, but it’s good, lighthearted fun.” He held his glasses up to check the lenses and then placed them gently back onto his face. Reaching into one of the other baskets, he plucked a different potion from the bunch and handed it to Jude.

“Try this one,” he said, expressionlessly. Jude looked at him warily and started to shake his head. “Oh come on man, it has to be you,” Gage continued, cracking a smile. Jude sighed and reached a hand out for the potion bottle. He pulled the stopper out and eyed the clear liquid inside doubtfully. Then he brought it up to his nose and sniffed at it. Benicio, who was standing at the other end of the table reached across and slapped a hand into Jude’s, knocking it back and sending the potion flying out of the bottle onto Jude’s face. Jude grimaced and Benicio and his brother Domingo burst into howls of laughter. When the potion came into contact with Jude’s skin, his fine, straight hair sprung into tight black ringlets. Ricky gasped again and reached a hand out to touch Jude’s hair wonderingly. The springy curls compressed and then popped back up under his hand. Several of the witches clapped in admiration.

“Well done,” said Callie, coming up beside Jude and eyeing him with appreciation. She was a vision herself, in a tight black tank top with faux leather leggings and boots. She patted his head gently, admiring the new curls. “Ringlets on the first attempt! I usually have to use two or three applications before I get curls that tight.” She gave Gage a nod of approval and then tugged at Jude’s hand. “Come on, I think the ceremony is going to start soon. Let’s go get seats together before they start to fill up.”

Jude looked at Ricky sheepishly and then over at the circle of stones. The witches were beginning to straggle over there and several of the seats were taken already. “Okay, Callie,” he said, giving her hand a gentle pat. “Just give me a second first.” He reached into the shirt pocket of his button down plaid shirt and pulled out his focusing stone. Moving over to stand beside Ricky he raised his eyebrows and said, “Watch this.”

He closed his eyes and made a quick circling motion with his hands. Then he mouthed the words that went along with the dissolution spell and, making a few more fluid motions with his hands, completed the spell. A chill went over them both and a small pop sounded as the rune was completed. Ricky gaped as Jude’s hair unrolled from its curls, returning once again to its usually straight nature. Giving Ricky a wink, Jude put his arm out for Callie and she smiled as she laced her arm through his.

“We’ll see you at the ceremony”, Jude said with a satisfied grin. He and Callie headed off towards the circle made of stones, leaving Ricky staring after them in astonishment, all of his previous worries about his newly revealed nature temporarily forgotten.