The Witch's Apprentice

Guinevere was always good to me. To her customers, not so much. She played her cards well and tricked everyone who trusted her. She only helped those when it benefited her. She was relentless. She treated me like a house spider. Ignored me most of the time and threatened to kill me whenever she had the chance. I was fed enough, with a bed all to myself and a roof over my head. She gave me clothes and shoes with laces. I bathed often and she treated any illness or wound without hesitation. She took me in when I was nothing; sick and lost, too young to speak and weak with thirst. She taught me many things; how to follow the recipes for potions, track the moon’s phases, control the weather…but there were things she preached that I struggled to shadow. She cared for me as best she could and I learned to stay out of her way.

Guinevere was a powerful witch but also the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Her porcelain white skin radiated, contrasting with her dark eyes in the most elegant way. Ruby red lips, sharp cheekbones and a small dimple on her chin. Curls of golden yellow hair twisted down her slender neck and bounced off her shoulders. Her long, pointed nails were painted a shiny black. Today, she had on her green blouse and a dark skirt with a large woven belt and a bandana laid over the top of her head with a tight knot in the back. She hummed a tune as she stirred the contents of her cauldron. I sighed as I swept the old dirt out of the front door.

“Something wrong, Grace?” she asked me. Her voice was tender and, for a moment, it put me at ease. She had her moments. Her eyes shot up at me. “I can always tell when something is wrong.”

I stayed quiet but stopped sweeping. The straw had become loose and was falling from the broom and the wooden stick was giving me splinters. I rubbed my calloused hands together and turned away from her.

“Grace,” she said, a little more demanding than before.

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, but the witch straightened her back. She clicked her nails together, waiting for more. “It’s just…that girl from last night…”

“I remember,” Guinevere said, “What of her?”

“What happened to her?”

A sinister smile crept over Guinevere’s lips. “I gave her exactly what she wanted. She told me she felt trapped, being forced to marry a man she didn’t love. She wanted an escape. To be free; to travel the world.” As if on cue, a large raven landed on the window sill and cawed. It adjusted its wings before finally settling. Guinevere turned to the bird and chuckled. “Unfortunately, the opportunity was much too steep for her purse. I did what was fair.” The raven’s beady eyes stared back into mine. I could see the softness behind it and felt so much despair I had to turn away. The witch wiggled her fingers at the bird. It jumped in fear and flew away with a screeching call.

“Why can’t we just help people?” I asked.

“Oh, but dear, we do! After all these years, I would hope you knew that.” I nodded at the confirmation, but still felt the uneasiness of the conversation. I thought back to all the troubled people who walked through that door. I felt their pain and craved their desires. I watched from the shadows as she tormented them and when Guinevere was in a good mood, she allowed me to assist her. It broke me.

“Grace,” the witch said, “Be a dear and get the door.” I looked up from the fireplace to the large oak door. For a few seconds there was silence and then, there was a short series of taps. I set the pieces of wood down, somewhat satisfied with the fire. I stood, dusted the ash from my dress and walked to the doorknob. I pulled the door open and saw a young man around my age before me. He gave me a nervous smile and removed his hat.

“Hello,” he said, “My name is Philip Moore. I am in need of your…services. Are you Guinevere?”

“No,” I said softly, “I’m called Grace, but come in. Can I ask why you are here?”

“I prefer to talk to her. Guinevere…if you don’t mind.” I nodded and gestured to the kitchen, where the witch sat at the table, carefully organizing her cards.

“Philip Moore, I presume?” Guinevere asked without looking up. She always had a way of knowing.

“Yes, ma’am. I need your help. I’m willing to pay, of course.” He pulled out a small bag and placed it at the end of the table. “I don’t have much, but this is everything to my name.”

“I see.” The witch’s eyes darted to the bag and then settled on Philip. He sucked in his breath and straightened his back. “And what can I do for you?” She returned to her cards, slouching carelessly into her chair. She licked her index finger, pulled a card from the deck and flipped it over, placing it next to the others.

Philip cleared his throat. “My son, he’s four. His name is Charlie.”

“Cute.”

Philip went on, “He’s sick. Really sick. The doctors haven’t a clue what’s wrong and he’s getting worse by the day. I need…I need something to make him better.”

Guinevere’s eyes flared up to the man’s as a smile curled over her lips. “You’re looking for a healing potion, yes?” Philip’s tense body relaxed. He nodded in relief.

“Lucky for you,” the witch said, “I’m actually in the middle of making a new batch.” She pointed to the cauldron in the fireplace. Steam seeped from under the lid as the fire danced underneath.

An anxious laugh popped out of Philip’s mouth. “That’s fine timing. I’ll take it! Just enough to cure my son. Oh, thank you, thank you!”

Guinevere turned to me. She pointed to the containers on the shelves. “Fill a vial for this nice young man.” I bowed and followed her orders. Philip felt comfortable enough to rant about his hardships. Guinevere slowly grabbed the bag and held it in her hand. She untied it and pulled out a single coin, held it out before her and then glared at Philip.

“You think me a fool?” she asked.

“Excuse me?” Philip said, taken aback.

Guinevere held up the golden coin and twirled it along her fingers. “I admire the detail you put into this. Most would have used wood and paint, but this, this is actual metal. I applaud you.” She rose from her seat and stepped toward Philip, who took a step back. “I’ve never had a desire for money. There are far more precious things I value more.” Her eyes flashed green and she smiled wide as her hands waved over themselves.

“I’m sorry,” Philip cried, “I just wanted to help my son. I didn’t mean to deceive you. I have nothing, but I can get the money. Please! I can get you whatever you want! I’ll do anything.” The witch muttered a spell under her breath and propeled the energy toward Philip. A wave of air shot through Philip and shoved him backwards. He choked and dropped to his knees. Purple slime dripped from the corners of his mouth and fell down his chin. His eyes fell onto me as he struggled to breathe. I knelt next to him and forced the blue liquid from the vial into his mouth. He fought me, but quickly gave in and consumed the entire bottle. I waited and watched in horror as he collapsed to the ground. He shook violently and then, nothing. He exhaled and stared into the ceiling.

“Silly girl,” the witch laughed. “You should know better by now. What’s in the cauldron is not a healing potion. Healing potion is green. I was actually making my monthly beauty remedy.” She giggled and softly touched her face.

I frowned. “You were never actually going to help him, were you?” I sat next to Philip, who was now completely still, eyes wide open with a look of fear set permanently on his face. The witch chose to ignore me. She receded into her bedroom and returned with a large dusty book. The spine was stitched together and the font on the cover was in a language I didn’t recognize. I dragged my sleeves over my eyes and stood on shaky legs.

“Grace?” Guinevere called to me. I didn’t reply. “I need you to go into the village and find that boy, Charlie, was it? Bring him back here. I’ll have a potion ready for him. It’ll be good for you to have some company. Being an only child has spoiled you.”

“No,” I said with a stomp of my foot.

“No?” The witch raised an eyebrow and glared at me.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I told her. I wiped away the fresh tears from my cheeks and stood in protest. “I can’t sit by and watch you hurt anyone else! I’m leaving!”

“He tricked me, so I tricked him!” she said defensively. She sighed and collected herself. I stood in front of her with balled fists and wet eyes. “I was going to help him. But then I changed my mind.” She smirked.

I shook my head in disbelief and turned to collect my things. I didn’t have much. Most of what I owned were Guinevere’s. I had my bag ready for the last two days. I pulled it out from behind the rocking chair in the corner and wrapped the strap over my shoulder.

“You are a monster and I want nothing more to do with you.”

“Believe what you wish,” Guinevere said as she rolled her eyes, “There is no getting through to you.” She sighed. “Now, if you’ll stop this little tantrum and bring the body over here. And put that bag away. You aren’t going anywhere.” She snapped her fingers impatiently.

I stood my ground. “I’m done with you. All this power, all this magic…and for what? You’re selfish and evil. I will no longer do your bidding. Find another girl’s life to ruin.”

Guinevere’s face twisted in annoyance. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

“Oh really? Well, I do not accept your resignation,” she spat at me. She flew from the table, over Philip’s body and before I could blink, she was inches from my face. She grabbed my arm and threw me down to the ground. She hovered above me and twisted my arm behind my back. Her nails dug deeper into my skin. I let out a shriek but it only made her throw her head back into laughter. It was an ugly chortle that echoed off the empty walls. I thrashed to get away, but my body felt heavy and stiff. I looked up at her, pleading for my release. Her eyes flashed green.

“I should have known what trouble you would be. I regret taking that chance on you. I…will you stop squirming!” she hissed. “After all I did for you. This…this is how you repay me? You can’t quit on me. You…” She held up a fist and opened her hand, a red light pulsed from her palm. “You are fired.” Flames erupted from her hand. I could feel the heat engulf my entire body. My skin bubbled as the flames licked my face. I screamed, but the crackling of the witch drowned me out.