The Wizard's Apprentice
By Verna McKinnon

he wizard relaxed, snug in his favorite chair. Pouring sweet cream into a mug of steaming tea, he sighed, “I do love this time of day. A nice bit of quiet.”

The cat stretched lazily, yawned, and then curled into a ball of brown tabby fur on the sunny windowsill. “Yes, nothing like a good snooze,” he purred.

“Rex,” Duncan said between sips, “You’ve been sleeping all day.”

“I’m a cat. That’s what I do.”

“Well, at least I had a busy and productive day.”

“You read a scroll on the magical properties of fungus and cleaned your potion bottles. Get a life, Duncan .” Rex rolled over onto his back, the sunshine warming his furry tummy.

“My life is just fine. I think I will take my nap now.”

“What a surprise,” Rex said.

Duncan set his cup down. He had just begun to doze when Rex jumped on his lap, nosing him in the eye. He pushed the cat away. “Rex, stop that!”

Rex’s large ears pricked up and his tale swished excitedly. “We have company. I saw someone coming down the path.”

“Nonsense. We never have company.”

Rex padded over to the window and peeked through the curtains. “Well, unless I’ve gone rabid, there’s a girl at our door, wearing a green cloak.” A gentle knock on the door surprised Duncan, but he didn’t move to answer it. The cat ran over and nudged him again, “Well are you going to sit there like the village idiot or see who it is?”

“Remember that tale about curiosity and the cat?” Duncan said.

“Yes, it was composed by a moron who was jealous of cats, probably of the canine species.”

“Very amusing,” Duncan mumbled, smoothing his wrinkled robes as he stood up. “Perhaps it’s a former student coming to pay their respects?”

“Your former students were pea-brains.”

“Well, surely whoever is here must know I’m a wizard, perhaps in need of my help?” He magically opened the door with an impressive wave of the hand. The girl stood there wide-eyed, hand raised in mid-knock. “Well, what do you want? I’m very busy.”

“Liar,” scoffed the cat.

“Hi...Uncle Duncan? It’s me, Tara.”

“Who?” He squinted, trying to locate her in his memory. She was rather short, her small face overwhelmed by a mass of long black hair and green eyes. He noticed her nose was sunburned and peeling.

She shrugged, “I’m Tara-your brother Donal’s daughter. Mother said you wouldn’t remember me. Very nice cottage you have. It’s very cramped though,” she said as she walked past him into the house. “Is it always this musty? I don’t blame you for not remembering. I haven’t seen you since I was five. I’m sixteen now. I’m graduating from the Academy soon. One of my last assignments is a season with a witch or wizard as an apprentice. Dad thought you would be a good choice, since you don’t have a wife and just retired from teaching. You would have plenty of time to-“

“Young woman, please! You can’t just show up here without any notice-”

Memories of the last visit he had with Donal unfolded. The noise and mess of children. Tara, then five, was the youngest of four. She took great pleasure in showing him her pet frog, Herbert. Never having a wife or children himself, Duncan was content to be single in life. He had Rex, his familiar, to keep him company. He remembered Donal’s wife Beatrice, who did not like him very much and took great pleasure in burning his toast.

Tara continued in rapid vocal beats, dropping her bag and basket in the sitting room, “The message was sent weeks ago, Uncle.” Tara examined his sacred space like a curious shopper, staring into his crystal ball collection, shaking potions dangerously. “The whole family sends their greetings. I’m the youngest-in case you don’t remember. I’m your apprentice this summer. We live in the north in Chulan. My Dad said the Underworld would freeze over before you came to visit us, but I told him you’re a busy man. I go to the Academy there, but it’s rather dull. I’m good at spell writing, but my potions get temperamental.”

“Stop! Don’t you ever take a breath?” Duncan interrupted.

The cat was rolling on the floor, laughing.

Duncan crossed his arms and glared at the cat, “You’re not helping.”

An irate pair of dark eyes peered out from the folds of her basket and scoured the room at a glance. “Not a very neat wizard is he?” it said.

“Oh, Winnie, I’m sorry! I nearly forgot!” A tiny elf owl with mottled fawn and snowy feathers hopped out of the basket into her hands. “Uncle Duncan, this is Winifred. She’s my familiar. She just likes to be called Winnie, though. Isn’t she pretty?”

“Don’t mind me,” Rex grunted. “I’m nobody.”

“I’m sorry-Tara, Winnie, this is my familiar, Rex.”

“He’s a scruffy looking tom, isn’t he?” Winnie observed from the safety of Tara’s hands.

“In the wild you would be lunch,” Rex said.

“In the wild you wouldn’t stand a chance,” the owl replied coolly.

“I like her. She’s sassy,” Rex said, amused.

“Which one?” Duncan asked, still perplexed. “They’re both pretty bold.”

Rex strolled over to Tara , rubbing up against her skirt. “Hey, speaking of lunch, maybe we can convince someone to actually cook for a change since we have a relative visiting.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re hungry after your long trip. I won’t have my brother saying I mistreat family. Speaking of which, how did you get here? You didn’t travel all alone did you?” Duncan inquired, closing the front door.

“I’m a big girl now. I decided to travel in a caravan that always comes south this time of year. It’s quite safe. I thought it would be scenic, but it was boring. I also got sunburned. Is my nose still red? Do you have any cookies, Uncle?”

“No. Why don’t you go wash up and we will talk about things over tea.”

“Do you have any cake?” Tara asked, rummaging through her satchel. She took out a cinnamon bar and began to eat it, giving a little bite to Winnie, who nibbled delicately.

“No. Don’t you like anything wholesome?”

“She likes sweets,” Winnie informed him. She flew off to sit in the sunspot by the window. “I try to tell her even witches can rot their teeth out with too much sugar. I like my tea unsweetened and strong, with cream.”

Duncan reheated last night’s vegetable stew and the half loaf of bread magically since the stove was covered in a thick coating of soot. He was out of butter and jam. There wasn’t even any honey in the crock.

He showed Tara the spare bedroom he used for storage. It was a mess. An old cot, stacks of books and scrolls, trunks and various boxes piled all about. He couldn’t even remember what was in them.

“You can change in there. The washroom is the last door down, and the privy is the narrow door on the left.”

“This is just fine. I can clean it up,” Tara said, carrying her bags to the room, surveying the area with sharp green eyes. “I’m very organized. I’ll only be a minute, then we can talk about redecorating my new room.” she said before closing the door.

That sounded too permanent.

She returned wearing tan trousers and a rust-colored tunic; her long black hair was bound casually with a dark green ribbon.

“Make yourself useful for now and set the table. The dishes are in the lower upper shelf,” Duncan told her while slicing the bread.

“Are you a good cook, Uncle?”

“Not really, but I never needed to be. Don’t worry, you won’t starve.”

“I hope not. I love to eat, but I’m only good at reheating. When I cook, it ends up burnt charcoal. I think it’s a wicked curse, but no one believes me.”

He restrained a grin. No. This was an intolerable situation, which he would resolve tomorrow.

She took down the plates and found the utensils in the washbasin. After rinsing off the spoons and forks, she cleared the small table of its stacks of papers, scrolls, a stray wand, pencils and crystal tomes. She laid out the plates and cups, all of different patterns and colors. “Do any of your plates match?” she grinned.

“No,” Duncan said, “I just collected what I needed over the years. I was never home that much when I was teaching.”

“I think its fun. The gryphon and fairy patterns are nice, but I like the blue dragon pattern on this one. A shame it’s chipped.”

Duncan ladled out the stew. Winnie was a delicate eater. Tara had two helpings and most of the bread. Where does she put it? She’s slender as a needle. He attempted to get more answers. “So, do your parents always let you travel alone?”

She shrugged and poured a hefty stream of cream into her tea. “They know I can look after myself. I haven’t spent a lot of time at home these last few years, being at the academy and all.”

“Shouldn’t you send a message to them? To let them know that you arrived safely?”

“I already did. I visited the local academy here first and sent them a message from there. Do you know they use ravens for delivery here? Of course you do. Back home they use falcons and sometimes owls. What do we do first? My academy requires certain spells for you to judge. Any more cream?”

He refilled the pitcher with the last of the cream, letting the matter drop for now. He would have to inquire on his own. He would have to go into town anyway, as he watched her clean the plate with the last bit of bread. Feeding an adolescent witch was going to be very expensive.

The next morning, she spent over an hour bathing and washing her hair in the tiny bath chamber. After what seemed an eternity, he was finally able to shave, among several jars and bottles of lotions and creams that were not there yesterday.

“We require breakfast,” Winnie announced when he appeared.

“So do I,” Rex added, stretched out on the windowsill in his favorite sunspot.

“Well, we can get something to eat in town.” Duncan promised. “We need to shop for supplies anyway.”

“Good. I’m starving. Can we fly there?” Tara asked excitedly.

“No.”

“Please Uncle Duncan?”

“No. We can take the wooded path. It’s only a half hour’s walk if we take the shortcut. It leads right into town.”

Perplexed, he was glad for the walk so he could think. Rex draped across his shoulder like a pelt, snoring the whole way. What was he going to do with her? He had no idea about the care and feeding of girls! At the academy, he had taught students spells and potions. He did not coddle or make them lunch.

He had to walk fast to keep up with her. Tara had the energy of a hummingbird. She gathered flowers and asked interminable questions about magic and his personal habits. Winnie perched on her shoulder like a feathery brooch, preening now and then.

They stopped at a local inn to eat. After a large breakfast of eggs, hotcakes with maple syrup, bacon and tea, he gave her some coins for sweets. He advised her to meet him in front of the bakeshop in an hour. He went to the Wizard Tower. After a few casual greetings to former associates, he wrote a message to his brother. The raven messengers were quite reliable and should make it there in a few days. The raven keeper charged him two coppers for the delivery. Prices had gone up for mail since he had last sent one. He tried to remember when he last sent anyone a letter, but could not recall.

After shopping, he found her in front of the bakery talking to a finely dressed boy with wavy dark brown hair. The boy very boldly picked up her hand to kiss-and she let him!

“Excuse me, but do I know you, young man?” he asked.

“Well, no sir. Are you this young lady’s father?”

“Her uncle, Duncan. I’m a wizard and could turn you into a-“

“Uncle!” Tara interjected. “I’m so sorry, he’s just surprised.”

“Who are you?” asked Duncan. “I know a lot of families in town and I don’t recognize you.”

“Oh, I’m Korun. My family just moved here. I was just-”

“Mauling my niece with your tongue.”

“Uncle Duncan!” she winced, “You’re embarrassing me!”

“Good. Korun, excuse us, but we must be going.”

“Uncle Duncan!” Tara cried. “That was so rude-”

“Now!” he pressed, firmly taking her hand and walking away.

The journey home was not peaceful. After a brief pout and references to eternal shame, she cheered up and talked constantly-about everything. The bags were heavy and he sweated profusely. She didn’t even perspire when she offered to help and effortlessly carried two heavy sacks. At home, they put away a great deal of food. He had never had this much in the house, packing away the fresh strawberries, greens (growing children needed green vegetables, he had read) eggs, butter, cream and cheese in the magically cooled storage box. He bought some trout. He liked trout and hadn’t cooked it in a long time. Rex was quite happy about the fish. He also bought her oatmeal cookies with custard filling, which she munched hungrily. On the table, a chocolate cake roll tantalized even him.

“I’m going to take my nap now.”

“A nap? It isn’t even noon.” she said between mouthfuls of cookie.

“I’m tired. I’m old.”

“You’re not old,” Tara said. “Stuffy but not old.”

“Very funny. Can you be quiet for an hour?”

“Yes, Uncle. Enjoy your nap.”

“Good. Get your list of spells prepared for my review while I sleep. We will go over it after supper.”

He closed the door to his small bedroom. Rex was already there, spread out like a furry blanket. He sat down wearily and took off his boots, “Move over, I need to rest.”

“Exhausting, isn’t she?” Rex asked.

“She’s a volcano in ribbons.”

When he woke up, he was surprised that the sun was setting. “Oh dear, I slept half the day away!” he gasped. He splashed cold water on his face, and woke up Rex. “Come on. The day is gone. I’m afraid what she may be up to.”

Rex blinked sleepily and rolled onto his back. “I think you should just do what I do.”

“Sleep eighteen hours a day,” Duncan quipped.

“For that you’re on your own,” Rex threatened.

“Traitor!”

“Human!” Rex retorted and crawled under the quilt.

Duncan was shocked at what he saw when he left his bedroom.

The curtains had been washed. They were quite white, though he thought they were beige for a long time. The three small windows were open, the summer breeze cleaning out the musty smell. Scrolls and books neatly lined his shelves along the wall. The wooden floor gleamed. The thick layer of cat hair on the floor rugs was swept away. The kitchen area with the stove and hearth off the sitting room was immaculate. The cupboards, stove, and hearth sported neatly arranged dishes and cups, and the pots and pans hung according to size above the block table where food was prepared. The round oak dining table gleamed, with a fresh vase of flowers in the middle.

“You’ve been very busy, Tara,” was all he could say.

Tara poked her head up from behind the stuffed chair. “Your familiar has a hairball problem. Do you know what I had to clean up under the chair and behind the sofa?”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“I also found some dishes under the sofa with fur on them. I think it was food a century ago.”

“Perhaps Rex forgot to tell me,” Duncan said, slightly embarrassed.

“Well, I soaked them in the washtub for an hour. Some of the cleaning I did magically. I find housework helps me to think.”

“It looks wonderful, Tara . Thank you. I forgot how homey it could be. Just tell me you didn’t throw anything away, and it will be a near perfect day.”

“Nope. Only the fuzz on the plates. I know better than to toss anything a wizard owns. We are from the same magical family,” she emphasized. “I did file the books back on shelves alphabetically and stacked the stuff I was confused about by the bookcase on a table. I’m hungry.”

Duncan was about to sit on the wooden chair when a startled cry surprised him.

Winnie’s round dark eyes glowered up at him, “Excuse me, but I don’t like being squished.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Winnie. I didn’t see you there.”

“I blend in with my surroundings. A plus in nature, dangerous among humans,” Winnie added. She fluttered up to the back of the chair and perched stubbornly.

Duncan chose another chair and sat, trying to take in all the change. He tried to find something to complain about, but was at a loss. He said, “I’ll fix supper while you clean up, Tara .”

“Great. I told you I was organized,” Tara added before bouncing to the bathroom.

Dinner finally awakened Rex. He looked around the room when he came out and said, “Did we move?”

“Very funny,” Duncan said sarcastically.

They ate trout and potatoes (only slightly burnt), fresh bread and butter, peas and coffee. They dined in relative harmony, Tara talking about her day while feeding Winnie tidbits off her plate. Rex ate a large piece of trout with a side of cream.

The next several days passed with rapid chaos. Life was full of shocks and traumas. The underwear she hung in the bathroom made him blush. The lotions and other female necessities crowded the area. He helped her with potions and incantations. He never napped now in the afternoon. He was busy teaching Tara the fine points of magic, often making a mess in the process. They made real meals, three times a day, plus snacks, and talked about everything.

He discovered she had a sharp mind and gave her books to read. Her magic was good but raw in talent. In time, he hoped to make her a fine witch if he could instill a little patience in her practices-and safety precautions. Her potions were tricky. They got a bit explosive, so they moved those examinations outside. Duncan discovered he was no longer tired. He did not have time.

The boy, Korun, was a problem. He met with Tara often when they went into town. He also began showing up on his doorstep. The boy was polite and from a good family, when he talked with people in town he gleaned some information. They were rich and from country gentry, but Duncan was concerned about Tara and her youth. Young boys are trouble.

After nearly three weeks, a raven carrier rapped on his door when Tara was in the bath. The raven was sitting patiently when Duncan opened the door, a tiny, slim crystal tied to his leg. “Thank you,” he told the raven. The bird flew off after he took the message. Duncan examined the crystal. The runic symbol was his brother’s.

“Is that from Donal?” Rex yawned, rolling off the sofa and landing on all fours gracefully.

“Yes. He finally wrote back.” Duncan sat down on the sofa.

Rex crawled into his lap, sniffing it. “What’s it say?”

“Give me time to open it!” He tapped it, and the crystal transformed into a long parchment letter of pale gold with dark green ink.

The revealing contents bore a harsher light than Duncan expected. Rex’s tail swished with each provocative sentence.

Tara joined them in the sitting room, hair still wet with Winnie on her shoulder, she sensed the tension. “What’s wrong, Uncle?”

Duncan softly said, “Sit down, Tara .”

“I didn’t drink the last of the cream, Uncle,” she said.

Duncan mutely showed her the golden letter from her father. She read it, and her lips slowly formed a silent, stunned, “Oh.”

“Tara , do you know what trouble you caused?”

She sat cross-legged on the sofa. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going back.”

“Your family has been worried sick.”

“My Aunt Mathilda was the one worried, mostly because I was keeping house for her. My parents didn’t know anything until you wrote them. They didn’t care. My father is living alone in the tower all depressed because my mother ran off with a younger wizard. Aunt Mathilda is very prissy and her cottage smells like old lady. I haven’t seen mom or dad in three months,” Tara wept. “My older brothers are either away or married with young babies. Babies are very irritating. They cry and make stinky messes.”

“You should have told me the truth!” Duncan said.

“I was afraid to. I had no where else to go. You were fun when I was little. You didn’t talk in that baby voice and pat me on the head like the other grownups. I thought you would understand.”

Duncan was torn. He had grown to like her company, even though it exhausted him. He also had to agree about smelly babies and Mathilda. Maybe his brother and his wife didn’t handle things quite well, but it was still inexcusable for Tara to run away.

“How can I trust you when you lie, Tara?”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t go back. Dad’s a wreck. Mom’s affair really hurt him. She doesn’t have time for me. Her new life is too romantic for reality. I feel like everything blew up like a bad potion, and I got hit in the explosion. It’s not fair!”

“Life is never fair,” he replied, a bit harshly. He looked at her little face all screwed up with sobbing and said softy, “I know you are unhappy, but that does not excuse your behavior. I will write back to your father and advise him. I will be escorting you home myself.”

She cried, “But Uncle Duncan, you can’t send me back.”

“I’m sorry, Tara. I really am, but the matter is decided. I am sending you home.”

“But I don’t have a home to go to!” Tara pleaded.

“You do. Just give it time and-”

“I hate you! You’re just like all the others!” she wept and stormed out of the room. Winnie flew after her, and the last thing he heard was the slam of her bedroom door.

“Well, you could have handled that better,” Rex said from under the sofa.

“Don’t even start,” Duncan threatened, feeling a sense of loss he could not name. “It is the right thing to do, isn’t it, Rex?”

“Really? Well, how come you sound so miserable?” Rex replied.

That night he couldn’t sleep. Rex sulked under the sofa. The house had been silent since Tara retreated to her room. He wanted to talk to her; he just didn’t know what to say. He sat alone for hours until Rex jumped up on the bed.

“Now what?” Duncan grumbled.

“Can’t she stay?”

“She deceived everyone, Rex. She needs to understand that.”

“Then explain it to her! Tara was in a bad situation. She’s a child and her family’s a mess. I also remember Mathilda, and I wouldn’t send an enemy to live with that crone,” Rex said, tail swishing impatiently. “I promise I won’t threaten to eat Winnie or cough up hairballs in the house if she stays.”

“Rex!”

“Since she’s been here, you have been less stodgy, it’s never boring and the meals are better. I haven’t seen you this lively in years.”

Duncan did want Tara to stay. He never had any peace with her around, but Rex was right. He wasn’t bored and she was a good girl with more ability than the students he trained all those years. And she made him laugh. He had not laughed so much in years.

He got out of bed and went to her room. He knocked on the door, “Tara, please let me in. We need to talk.” He knocked some more. No answer. No sounds. His stomach knotted with fear, he opened the door. “Tara!”

She was gone! The window stood open like an accusation. And she was gone!

He was going to kill her.

“Rex, come on. She’s run off again.”

“Oops. Runaway witch is at it again.”

“We need to find her-now.” Duncan quickly dressed and grabbed his staff. Rex followed him and they found her trail. Using a spell to highlight her footsteps in the dirt, they followed the glowing imprints along the path, cursing silently with each step. Witch or not, a girl should not be wandering in the middle of the night. She was going to be so grounded for the next century.

Winnie’s frightened voice called from above, “Duncan ! Is that you?”

“Winnie, it’s us.” Duncan called.

The tiny owl flew down and landed in his hand. She was quite distressed. “Oh, he took Tara!”

“Who took Tara ?” Duncan said hotly.

“That boy, Korun. She was very upset and decided to runaway. I tried to talk her out of it. About midnight, she packed her satchel and climbed out of the window, using a silent spell. We didn’t get far from the house when Korun appeared. He looked surprised, but said he was coming to visit her.

“In the middle of the night?”

“My suspicions were raging, but Tara wasn’t listening. She told him about your fight and he comforted her. The boy is slime. While she wept in his arms, he tossed sleeping powder at her. I barely escaped the dusty stuff. He carried her off on his horse. I was coming to get you.”

“Ok, I’m going to kill that boy. Which way did they ride?”

“West, I think. He laughed and talked about the dark ones that will rise and reward him for such a fine sacrifice of magical blood. I’m scared. He’s going to hurt Tara .”

Rage bubbled inside Duncan. “How long ago did he take her?”

“Not more than fifteen minutes ago.”

“If that boy is going to make some sacrifice, where would he go?” Rex asked. “Those things require specifics-altars, rituals and other nasty things.”

“My guess is he went to the old ruins,” Duncan answered. “There is a crumbling temple with an evil history-demon worship, according to legend. No one ever goes there. They wanted to tear the temple down but people are too afraid to disturb anything unnatural.”

“No one practices such evil anymore,” Winnie said. “Demon worship was banned centuries ago.”

“At least not openly,” Rex said.

“I didn’t come all this way to lose my witch as a sacrifice to some moldy old demon,” Winnie said hotly.

“Get on my shoulder, Winnie,” Duncan said, and picked up Rex.

She perched nervously and asked, “What are you going to do?”

“Fly to the temple, so hold on.”

He recited the flight spell. Within heartbeats, they rose high in the air. Holding on to his staff and cat, he flew westward toward the old temple. He had not done this spell in years and fought off a wave of dizziness as his speed accelerated. He prayed he would not be too late.

They reached the old temple, a crumbling shell of ancient black stone. A fire in the heart of the open shrine was seen, and he landed on the bough of a high tree.

Tied-up and gagged, Tara lay on an altar of red marble. She was still unconscious. A circle of five young men in red robes surrounded her. They began to spout a lot of rubbish about rising from the dark and offering a virgin’s blood laced with magic. It was disgusting and ridiculous at the same time.

“What now?” Winnie asked.

“Oh, I’m thinking a little lightning to brighten up the place,” Rex replied.

“Good idea,” agreed Duncan. He raised his staff, mumbled the old incantation and cried, “Lightning.”

Tara opened her eyes in time to see a violent, yet precise burst of lightning strike the ground before the feet of the cult. They were thrown back. They cried out in shock and fear.

Duncan flew down, holding the familiars, and shouted, “Tangle.”

The boughs of trees and vines of the old wood became alive and ensnared the young men that tried to escape. Rex guarded them, biting and scratching them when they struggled.

All but one.

Korun did not run. Determined to have his blood sacrifice, he grabbed a fallen dagger and stood over Tara’s prone body.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Duncan said with a wave of his hand.

The blade flew out of Korun’s hand. He marched over to the angry boy, who stood unafraid before the wizard. Winnie flew right at him and bit his nose.

“Ouch.” He grabbed his bleeding nose. Winnie settled protectively on Tara’s stomached, dark eyes bright with anger.

“The god Zagon will punish you for your-”

Before he could say another word, a pair of bound, delicate feet struck him in the face. He fell backward, and, with a wave of his hand, Duncan tangled the boy with the vines. He touched Korun’s forehead and said, “Sleep.”

e immediately stopped struggling and closed his eyes.

“That should hold him until the town watch arrests him,” he said.

Duncan helped Tara sit up. He untied the ropes and removed her gag. She spat and jumped off the altar, marched over to Korun and kicked him in the gut with such fury. Duncan smiled.

“You snake! You evil, twisted, son of a demon scum-”

Then she broke into tears, and Duncan folded her in his arms protectively. He waited for the weeping to calm, then asked, “Are you hurt?”

“No. I feel like an idiot.”

“It’s okay. Every village has one,” Duncan laughed.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled.

Winnie settled on her shoulder, relieved, and pecked her, “Bad witch! You should never have run off like that!”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a tiny voice, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

Duncan held her and said, “You nearly got yourself killed.”

“I know. I’m a bad witch.”

“When I write your father and tell him you are staying with me for the summer, I will have to let him know what happened.”

“But Uncle Duncan, I-what?”

“You heard me. Now, this will be only with your father’s permission. We will review things in the fall about your studies, whether you go to the academy here or in Chulan.”

“Yes,” she brightened.

“And you will have rules, young witch, lots of rules.”

“Okay…you mean I can stay?”

“Yes, Tara. But you must promise to never, ever run away again.”

“I promise.”

“And tell the truth, no more lies, no more boys…well, no boys without my approval and a full search into their theological and criminal histories.”

“Yes, I agree. Oh, thank you, Uncle Duncan,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Now, let’s go to the village and alert the authorities. Their jail cells are going to be full up when they are done here. Are you up to the walk?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Uncle.”

“Don’t be sorry, be better. Now let’s go.”

They walked through the forest with the aid of the bright moon and a glowing light ball Duncan conjured.

“Will you teach me that?” she asked.

“Later. When you are more skilled.”

“Uncle, am I grounded?”

“Oh yes, my dear, for a long, long time.”

"Thought so.”