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She bares her teeth at me, her ears pinning back.
“I know you’re not an appliance. That doesn’t mean life wouldn’t be easier if we knew how the hell all this worked.” I head toward the door. “Why did nobody write this stuff down? Did they take familiars for granted?”
They probably did. Magic has always been an oral tradition based on apprenticeships, with grimoires guarded and often written in code, so other witches couldn’t steal knowledge from each other.
When familiars stopped appearing, witches stopped talking about them, and as magic died out in the human world, more and more was lost.
My mother didn’t have a grimoire, and I learned everything through trial and error.
The Conservatory is the first attempt to treat it more like a school, with multiple teachers catering to different aspects of magic.
Out in the hall, students rush toward their classes, books clutched in their arms or carried in bags over their shoulders. As much as I disagreed with the school’s founder, she had a good idea when she built this place, and I’m happy to expand on it.
Orianna’s ears prick forward at the same time I hear crying coming from a nearby classroom.
Worried, I follow the sound to find two girls huddled together.
“Hey.” I keep my voice soft to avoid startling them. “Everything okay?”
The one with tears streaming down her cheeks sniffles wetly.
The other girl hugs her as she gazes up at me. “Nora’s dog died.”
I step farther into the room. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry.”
Nora is one of our students who commutes to school, which is a rarity. “Do you want me to call your mom or dad to come get you? I’ll approve your absence for the day.”
“Paddy Paws died last month.” She scrubs at her eyes. “My parents will think I’m being dumb.”
I kneel next to her. “Hey, now, there’s no clock on grief. If you’re sad, you’re sad.”
She sniffles and wipes her cheeks. “We buried her in the woods behind our house, and I went out this morning to plant some flowers, but something…”
More tears spill out, and I look to her friend for more info.
She leans forward to whisper, “Something dug her up.”
Nora breaks down into fresh sobs. “I told Dad we should have put a rock over the grave, but he said it would be okay!”
My heart hurts for the kid, and I rise to my feet. “Why don’t you both come to the big tree, and we can do a Spirit be at Rest spell?”
No spell like that exists, but I’ll make one up if it will help assuage this girl’s sadness.
Nora blinks back her tears. “Can you really do that?”
I straighten my spine. “What’s my specialty?”
Nora stares up at me with tears swimming in her eyes. “Souls.”
“Then leave it to me.” I lift my chin with confidence. “Paddy Paws will be at peace.”
Nora’s gaze drops to Orianna. “Can I hold Anny while you perform the spell?”
My familiar trots over to shove her head under the girl’s hand, and pride fills me. In magic, we may not be perfect. In this, though, Orianna and I communicate just fine.
The rest will come with time.
karma steps in
