Eva Evergreen, Semi-Magical Witch

CHAPTER 1

THE ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE

The bell above the door chimed, and magic tingled at my fingertips. The scent of ink and freshly printed paper swirled invitingly in the air as I followed my parents into the bookshop.

Today was my last day as just an Apprentice Witch, the last few moments of being the unreliable Eva who summoned heads of cabbage instead of flowers or got a sunburn instead of calling down rain. Or, at least, I hoped it was the end of all that.

“Are you ready, Eva?” Mother nudged my shoulder.

I tightened my hands around the straps of my knapsack and summoned up a smile. “I’m ready.”

A set of bright, spectacled brown eyes peeped out from a teetering stack of books at the counter in the center. “Welcome to Enchanted Ink, Rivelle Realm’s one and only magical bookshop.” Kaya Ikko, the bookseller, dipped into a bow, her black tunic fluttering around her. “Ah, Nelalithimus! And Isao! I did so enjoy the yuzu lemon trifles that Nela brought to tea the other day.”

My stomach usually growled at the thought of Father’s realm-famous pastries, but today, it churned queasily.

My father smiled. “My pleasure. I’ll bring over my latest creations the next time we’re in the city.”

Kaya’s warm eyes crinkled with delight when she spotted me behind Mother. “And Eva! So good to see you here.”

“Hello, Elite Ikko!” My heartbeat fluttered as I paused in the wide aisle leading to her counter. Books lined the walls, all the way up to the dim window cut into the ceiling. One of these books would be mine, for my quest. So long as I could summon it.

“Go on, Eva. You can do this,” Mother murmured, as if she had heard my thoughts. She adjusted my pointy hat, smiling down at me.

At first glance, Mother and I almost looked like mirror reflections. We had the same inky black hair resting slightly below our shoulders, rounded brown eyes, and slight tans from summer afternoons in the garden. We even had the same black witch’s dresses.

But that was where the similarities ended.

The delicate jewel brooch at her neck and her black dress were laced with a diamond-like shimmer, marking her Grand Master status. My dress was plain black, as I was only an Apprentice, a level so low I wasn’t even considered an official witch.

And most days, it seemed, all other witches and wizards were more like Mother than me. Magic rushed through their veins, with just a drop of blood.

I definitely had more blood than magic.

Father wandered over to the non-enchanted cookbooks, and Mother picked up a book at random and pretended to be absorbed in it, to give me a chance to slow down the pounding in my chest. The book’s pages flipped without Mother turning a corner, and my heart thundered faster.

“Oh, Kaya, would you like to walk over to the Council Hall together?” Mother called.

Kaya popped back out, clutching a stack of books. “Of course, of course. But I’m waiting for the soon-to-be Novice’s book summoning, as you know.”

She’d kept her shop open for my sake. A smile tugged at my lips.

It was now or never.

And I was ready for my quest.

I stood straight in front of Kaya and stretched up as tall as I could, though I didn’t surpass even the smallest piles of magical tomes. “I’m ready to summon my book.” A shiver ran down my spine with excitement. “Can you please open the enchanted bookshelf?”

The books clattered out of Kaya’s hands. She pushed her glasses up her nose and squinted, her eyebrows knitting with confusion. “Eva? Oh, no, Eva. I—I thought you were going on your quest next year.…”

I sucked in a breath. “Next year?”

She rummaged under a stack of books, one smoking at the edges, and pulled out a square of parchment stamped with the Council’s official crescent-moon seal. Her eyes searched the page. “Eva… you’re not on the list. There’s only one wizard this year and… it isn’t you.…”

My heart pounded. “But I’ve got magic”—it had finally manifested—“and I turned twelve years old three moons ago.”

“Kaya—truly?” Mother asked, her hands clenching the book, now rattling in her grasp.

Kaya flipped the parchment over, as if expecting to see my name on the back. “In all my twenty years, this has never happened before.…”

I stammered, “How can that—I have to be on the list.”

My lungs tightened, and I could barely breathe. What could she mean? The summons I’d received from the Council had stated: Evalithimus Evergreen is hereby summoned to the Council of Witches and Wizards meeting on the first day of the fifth moon, for discussion of her witch rank. Mother, Father, and I had prepared my knapsack, Mother had gifted me a shiny new broomstick, and we’d had everything ready except my ensorcelled book from Enchanted Ink and my ticket from the Council.

Kaya shook her head with confusion. “The only person the Council listed this year—” From behind me, the door chimed, but I couldn’t pull my gaze away from Kaya. Her eyes widened at the sight of the person opening the door. “Is him.”

My heart pounded in my throat. Who—

“Elite Ikko, I’m here for my book,” said a familiar, haughty voice.

I spun around and bit down a groan.

Conroy Nytta and I eyed each other with barely concealed dislike. Even though he was only two moons older, he always acted above me. He brushed off an invisible speck of dust from his pristine black long-sleeved shirt and trousers that fit him so perfectly it looked as if they had come straight from the queen’s own tailor.

He nodded at my father, then strode to Mother and bowed over her hand, a lock of straight, dark hair falling over his eyes. “Wonderful to see you, Grand Master Evergreen.”

As if an afterthought, he added, “And Eva.”

I promised myself he’d have to call me Grand Master someday. Still, his greeting stung.

“Hello, fellow Apprentice Conroy,” I said, addressing him properly.

“Did your magic truly show up?” Conroy flicked his eyes to the knapsack slung over my shoulders.

“Conroy!” Father and Mother scolded in unison. He’d apprenticed under Mother, and living with him when we were both ten had been the worst year of my life. Conroy used to whisper—only when my parents weren’t around—how mind-boggling it was that the daughter of the most powerful witch in Rivelle Realm was magicless. My magic hadn’t manifested until I turned eleven, after he’d left for his next apprenticeship.

Conroy leaned close, out of earshot of my parents. “I’d heard rumors, but… Oh, wait, was it you who fell asleep in the stream instead of stopping the rain? Classic.” He snorted.

As if answering my thoughts, magic tickled faintly at my fingertips, longing to show off a spell or two. But unlike Conroy, I couldn’t waste a drop of it.

“I manifested last year,” I said quickly. “Mother’s been training me as her Apprentice since then.”

“Last year? And a single apprenticeship?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got only one chance to pass your quest, you know. Can you even fly?” Conroy had started an enchanted snowstorm on the day he was born. Ever since, he’d been training all around the realm. Mother’s friends in the Council whispered that he’d most likely earn his Grand Master status by the time he reached sixteen. Most witches and wizards only reached the Elite rank, the third and middle tier.

“I—I can fly. Well enough,” I said through gritted teeth. “And I’m aware I only have one chance.”

One chance, one chance. Those very words had echoed in my mind every time I’d thought of my Novice quest. But I needed my powers. I’d do anything to keep my magic.

For any other witch or wizard, not passing the Novice quest, the easiest of the Council’s ranking quests, was unthinkable. I wasn’t so lucky.

Mother cast enchantments as she walked, talked, and even slept. Most times, she didn’t even need her wand to channel her magic. Just yesterday, within a handful of minutes, she had charmed the house to dust itself up, the sponge to scrub the dishes, and her piles of books to alphabetize themselves. Half an hour later, I had finally thought of a spell—A mean clean is in need—and summoned up enough magic for a rag to wipe crumbs off the stovetop and then fling itself into the waste bin. And then I’d slipped into a nap on the kitchen floor.

Casting charms pulled magic out of my blood far too quickly. And I, unlike most, paid a consequence for every spell. Whenever I overused my meager stores of magic, I fell asleep.

“We’ve got the Council meeting in a few minutes,” Mother said placatingly. “They’ll clear it up, as I’m sure it was just a mistake.”

“What was a mistake?” Conroy asked.

“N-nothing,” I said quickly, and he narrowed his eyes. My fingers curled around my wand, my nails biting into my palms. I wasn’t going to give up on becoming a Novice Witch that easily.

“I know what’s a mistake—any spell Eva casts.” Conroy snickered under his breath.

Kaya looked nervously between us. “I’ll summon the bookshelf now, especially since we’ve got two of you.” I beamed with relief. At least Kaya would let me get my book. Conroy glowered, likely not wanting anything to do with me. She raised her wand and chanted, “The right book for a quest, at the journeyer’s behest.”

The circular counter turned and turned around her, sinking into the wood floor with a rumble. The air sucked out of my lungs. My quest was finally beginning.

Kaya stepped to the side as a gilded structure rose in its place, gleaming under the faint light shining in through the overhead window. Magical tomes glimmered on the ten shelves. Pristine gold-stamped covers were mixed with well-loved books, big and small, old and new.

I breathed out a quiet, reverent “Oh.” It was beautiful.

“I’ll go first. I haven’t got time to wait.” Conroy’s sharp eyebrows rose in condescending slashes, as if he’d issued a challenge I couldn’t possibly meet. I leveled a glare back. He flicked his wand and chanted, “My journey is to begin, endow the knowledge within.”

The magical tomes shifted and fluttered like a thousand paper wings, but hushed as a book with a rich bronze cover floated up into the air. It fell neatly into Conroy’s outstretched hands, and he tucked the slim book into the pocket of his black tunic before I could see the title, probably just to irritate me.

“Good luck summoning your book, Eva.” Conroy’s eyes flicked to my broomstick resting against a shelf. “I mean, assuming you have magic.”

“Enough magic to give you a wart,” I retorted, but he’d already turned away.

“A pleasure to see you, Grand Master Evergreen and Mister Evergreen. And of course, thank you, Elite Ikko,” Conroy said, bowing again. He didn’t bother saying the same to me. “Well, I shall see you at the Council Hall.”

He brushed past, and I clenched my fists in the folds of my skirt, wishing I could magic away the smug look on his face.

Conroy twirled his wand with one hand and aimed it toward the doorway. His wand shimmered. “A light so bright, for the one that’s right.”

The door flew open, and a beam of sunlight shone down on him, illuminating the bits of gold in his dirt-colored hair as he strolled out.

“What a waste of magic,” I grumbled.

The shop darkened as soon as he disappeared. I wanted to turn into a tornado, to tear down the walls and race after him, and challenge him to a magical duel. I slumped my shoulders. Compared to his powers, I was nothing but a faint spring breeze.

Mother sighed. “He can’t help being Hayato’s nephew.”

“He can stop being awful, though,” I protested. Mother hid her laugh, but Father let out a chuckle.

“I’m ready for my spell.” I stepped up to the bookshelf and tapped it with my wand. “Book for me, please be seen.”

My head spun slightly as magic pulled out of my blood. The tip of my wand lit dully. Instead of flying into my hands, books leaped on top of the shelf and began swirling around, like dancers at one of the queen’s balls.

“Curses! I didn’t mean ‘be seen’ like that,” I groaned. Kaya’s lips twitched. She’d probably never seen a witch like me before.

A loud ring! chimed through the city, and I stiffened.

“It’s the first bell,” Mother said. “Remember, choose only the words that will help you concentrate on what you want to have happen. Rhymes are always good as they’re easier to remember and will help you focus. Create a spell that homes in on your desires. Hope for it. Believe in it.”

I nodded, but my mind had been wrung clean of ideas. I’d heard those exact instructions time and time again from the moment my magic had manifested, but creating spells still never came easily, particularly because of how hard it was to find my magic inside me. It was there, somewhere in my blood, but whenever I tried to cast a spell, my magic seemed to shrink away and hide.

All my carefully crafted spells in preparation for this very moment seemed to have flown out the door along with Conroy. The only thing I could think of was how they’d misfire.

“We’ve got a few minutes…” Mother added slowly.

But not much more.

I clutched my wand tightly, feeling my head spin. My limit was about five simple spells, which had seemed a lot until I followed Mother around one morning. In a few minutes, she’d cast twenty charms as easily as snapping her fingers.

With today’s one spell, somehow, my magic had seeped from me. And my ideas for spells with it.

My mind was blank.

All I could see were the books taunting me, spinning in circles and kicking up the dust. If Conroy had stayed, he would’ve been crying with laughter by now.

Maybe “Come on a journey, book on a tourney”? No. The books would probably start dueling. My words had shriveled into useless scraps.

But Father and Mother moved to my side.

“You can do this, Eva,” Father whispered in his deep, calming voice. And Mother squeezed my shoulder, her cool hand reassuring me.

My parents had never given up believing I’d pass my quest. As long as I hoped to be a witch, they hoped, too. I couldn’t let them down. Blood pounded in my ears as magic poured out.

“Bestow what I need, for this journey to succeed.”

The books rumbled, just like they had for Conroy, and I perked up. Had my spell worked?

I held my hands out, expecting a tiny book like Conroy’s.

The books shifted, spines popping in and out as if they couldn’t figure out which tome to dispense. Then, one after another, book after book shot out, throwing themselves into my hands with a resounding smack, smack, smack.

By the time the books were finished, thirteen magical tomes towered over my head. I teetered to a side table, and Mother helped stuff them inside my knapsack. I snatched up my worn copy of The Guide for Questing Witches and Wizards, which I’d brought from home, and placed it carefully on top. “Did you have this many tomes during your quest, Mother?”

“If it sits, it fits!” As usual for Mother, she quickly thought of a spell to expand my knapsack further and waved her wand with ease. The canvas bag obediently swallowed up the books, though it was already crammed with food and other supplies. “I had a thinner book. But these are simply recommendations. You aren’t required to read all of them.”

“Books have a way of making themselves known,” Kaya added. “When they’re meant to be read, they’ll appear. When you need them, you’ll always be able to find the right book for you.”

With a swish of her wand, Kaya magicked the enchanted bookshelf away.

The second bell rang, chiming throughout all of Okayama. The sound echoed in my ears, as if it had rooted itself in my heartbeat. Mother met my eyes with a quick nod.

We needed to hurry to the Council Hall. I had to find out why I hadn’t been included in the Council’s letter to Kaya.

The list had to be a mistake.