In previous years, witches and wizards had tried to spell the Culling to weaken its hold on the land. Those enchantments had only enraged the Culling, which sucked up the powers of the charms to ravage the realm with an unstoppable fury.
The scrying witches and wizards could only see the rising force of nature hours before it slammed against the realm. Each time they scried for a source, something—or someone—had blocked them.
Mother believed that rogue magic was at work. Or even something far more sinister…
At previous meetings, she’d pled for Grottel to look into the possibility that the Culling had been formed through blood magic. The Hall had been in an uproar, but her words had rung true to me. It could very likely be a rogue witch or wizard sacrificing their own blood in exchange for terrifying amounts of power. But Grottel refused to listen. He’d said that the Culling was because of the current imbalance of magic within the land. That the Culling showed there were too many weak witches and wizards who couldn’t help the realm in times of need. He pointed to the other six realms as an example. Most of the other realms had less magic than us. Since Rivelle had been the first to form a Council to organize its magic users, he claimed that our Council had helped Rivelle keep the most magic.
And Grottel pointedly argued that all blood magic had been stamped out hundreds of years ago. He insisted that the source of the Culling came from one of our neighboring realms. To placate the concerns, he had sent out convoy after convoy of scrying witches and wizards, to traverse past the borders of Rivelle Realm.
Years later, they’d found nothing.
But the Culling—whether as a tornado, earthquake, or other disastrous form—continued to plague the realm every year, wrecking everything that dared stand in its path.
Although I had an affinity for repair magic, my unreliable fixes wouldn’t stand a chance against the Culling.
“Even if the Council frowns upon you returning home early, come back anytime,” Father added. “Don’t listen to those stuffy witches and wizards.”
Mother laughed. “That’s exactly what you told me years ago, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t laugh. Returning home without passing my Novice quest would mean I’d failed. The Council would strip away every last drop of magic from my blood.
I couldn’t imagine my future without magic.
As we waited for my turn to board, a little girl stumbled into me and I barely caught myself from tumbling into my father. Mother scooped her up before she could fall. “Careful now, dearie.”
The girl’s cheeks dimpled. “Thank you!” She scurried away.
My skin prickled.
“Where are her parents?” I craned my neck.
The little girl had slipped through the hordes until she stood at the end of the long pier. “Mama?” The girl waved her hands up at the grimy ship windows. She looked only two or three years old. “Mama!”
A worker walked past, heaving a tower of boxes. I tried to call out but I was too far away. He bumped into the girl, clipping her on the forehead.
Her smile melted into tears. I gasped as the girl’s arms flailed as she blindly wobbled toward the rushing river. “No!” I cried, grabbing my wand. “No harm… on ground…”
Orange light spluttered out. My magic wasn’t strong enough.
“What are you charming?” Mother spun around.
Trapped air burned in my lungs. I had to do something.…
The girl teetered over the edge and her shrill cry shot through the pier. Time seemed to slow as she fell, her eyes frozen in fear while waves licked at her, about to pull her under.
Mother whipped out her wand. “Stay safe and sound, fences all around!”
Golden light flashed. Vines sprouted from the wood, weaving into a net. It caught the girl and pushed her back to safety. The branches wove along the length of the pier until the warm glow faded, leaving behind a fence.
A pale-faced man pushed through the gathered crowd and folded the girl into his arms. “Izu! Don’t ever run off again!”
The little girl pointed over his shoulder. “Witch!”
“Izu, it’s rude to point—” He turned around and his mouth dropped open. “Are you—are you the Nelalithimus Evergreen?”
Mother tugged the brim of her witch’s hat. “At your service.”
“Thank you so much, Grand Master.” The man bowed deeply. “It’s an honor.” His eyes flickered to me, at her side, and the wand in my hand. I stepped back into the crowd, letting curious onlookers push past. This was Mother’s work, not mine.
“Thank you, thank you.” The little girl stared up at my mother in awe.
My chest tightened. If only my spell had worked right, they would’ve been thanking me.
After one last bow of thanks, the man settled his daughter on his shoulders and headed back to the boat, still shaking his head in wonder. “The Nelalithimus Evergreen…”
The crowd slowly broke up, shooting final glances at my mother. They were probably trying to memorize every last detail of her to tell their families back home.
Mother slipped her wand back into her pocket as a smile danced on her lips. “I’ve been telling the dock captain to put up a barrier for years. Stick-in-the-mud wouldn’t pay the carpenters’ guild, yet didn’t want to ask for an enchantment because he was afraid the carpenters would be insulted.” Then her eyes sparkled. “I think this counts as a valid reason, right?”
Father’s grin matched hers. “They’ll have to accept it now.”
My fingers tingled, as if my magic longed to help, too. But my charm had spluttered out.
A horn blew. “Last call!” shouted the attendant at the loading ramp. I jumped. I couldn’t miss the boat. Mother’s hand curled around mine in a tight squeeze as Father helped me hoist on my knapsack and sling my broomstick over my shoulder. Mother’s eyes misted as she and Father wrapped me in one last hug. She didn’t pretend it was from the river’s spray. “We’ll miss you, Eva.”
As I hurried to the line, the shadow of the boat loomed over me. My stomach roiled like I was about to get swept out into the waves like that little girl. After I boarded, I wouldn’t have Mother’s spells to save the day.
When I got to the foot of the ramp, the attendant paused. “A witch?” She had jet-black hair clipped at her shoulders in a sharp bob, and a bottle-green, fitted uniform with sharp trimmings that matched the honey-brown of her eyes. She looked maybe ten or so years older than me, but the way she spoke made her seem much older.
“Yes, Apprentice Evalithimus Evergreen, going to my new town for my Novice quest.” I tried to match her mature, assured air, but it didn’t quite seem to fit.
The attendant examined my golden ticket, glinting under the bright sun, and then neatly punched a hole into the corner. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Apprentice Evergreen.”
“Oh, everyone calls me Eva.”
She smiled as she handed back my ticket. “I’m Rin. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
I tipped the edge of my hat. “Thank you.”
Inside, the boat was cool and dark, like diving into deep water. Dust motes danced in the faint light streaming through the dirty windows. The lower deck was packed with people settling into oak benches long enough to sit two or three people. I skirted around a businessman and his rustling newspapers, past a family arranging their rolling trunks under the benches, and to the first empty bench.