Familiar Speak

Agnezia McLoone stirred her cauldron and muttered to herself “Hubble bubble, toil and trouble.” She was disappointed in herself for resorting to hackneyed old spells, but good spells had been hard to come by since the airport security clampdowns and any unscheduled broomstick flying was just asking for anti-terrorist squad on your doorstep. Anyway, what she was attempting was a mixture of traditional and contemporary-urban style witchery, so the use of the old charm wasn't entirely inappropriate. She added some pieces of fabric and the cauldron hissed and shot out sparks, making Catbrick hiss in response and retreat under the table.

“T shirt of an urban rake

In the cauldron boil and bake

Hair of yoot and toe of hog

Wool of jumper and London smog” she mumbled, fervently hoping that her improvised mish mash would produce something larger than previous efforts, an event that was truly spectacular. It was becoming increasingly difficult to secure spaces for Agnezia to really explore her craft, and it was this problem that she had resolved to solve.

She stirred in the hair of yoot – acquired on the bus earlier that day, from a young man who had been sporting a particularly large fro. Fortunately he'd been too busy showing off his new ring tone to notice the scruffy, black clad woman behind him. She'd snipped off what she needed then stored it in a Ziploc bag in her handbag to avoid cross-ingredient contamination. Hair of an innocent young man had always been a key ingredient for any young woman seeking her hearts desire, and the main strength of the McLoone clan was their knowledge of traditional remedies.

The cauldron started to emit a steady stream of blue smoke, as Agnezia let rip with a mad cackle “ in my cauldron let them simmer, every work will seem to glimmer” Catbrick sniffed the air, and leapt on to her shoulder. The approval of a familiar is always important to a witch, and is often seen to be a sign that a spell will work, in some fashion or other. Convinced that she was not just casting a damp squib, Agnezia speeded up her stirring – three times widdershins, three times not widdershins and focussed the power of her mind on her dream.

Casting in her final ingredient – two very unmagical looking stones she cried “O my cauldron, cause some trouble, make a building from this rubble!”

The cauldron let out a huge bang and split completely in two, and began firing out pieces of blue and gold. Catbrick quickly jumped back under the table, out of harms way.

Agnezia was sure she had a glimpse of a pristine, shimmering, empty space just waiting to be filled, before a flying piece of blue metal hit her on the head, rendering her completely unconscious.

*****

When she came round, some hours later, she was deeply disappointed to find that she was still in a space that seemed to be her living room, although it had changed quite substantially during her time out. She was first relieved, then annoyed to find Catbrick washing himself and giving her a “So?” look. “Oh Catbrick, I'm sure that nearly worked, didn't you see? While I was unconscious? I'm sure something must have happened, I mean, the living room seems pretty transformed. But it doesn't seem to have had quite the effect I intended. Surely you can fill me in on what happened? “

But Catbrick just stared at her with his yellow eyes and his naughty pirate expression, until she finally conceded that she would have to use more traditional methods of obtaining free space this time. But she was determined that her next spell would attempt a yet more ambitious task – the translation of a cats expression into something a human can understand.

 

By Anon