Magpie messages
Imogen, the Secretary of the Ratheniska Coven, had a secret that only Beatrice the Coven’s leader knew. She knew that Imogen had no witch heritage whatsoever, but she kept that secret. One day years ago, Beatrice had found Imogen in the field behind her hut trying to make a potion out of dandelions and dock leaves. Being the good witch that she is, Beatrice took Imogen under her wing and tutored her until no one could tell that she was not of witch stock. Then Beatrice proposed her for membership of the coven, and so she was accepted. Imogen took great pride in being the most diligent witch, faithfully keeping and treasuring the Book of Shadows which had all the coven’s recipes, spells and potions. She never felt truly at home in the group, however, always feeling a bit of an outsider.
This feeling was exacerbated when Beatrice’s grand-niece Julianna joined the group. Julianna, although of short stature, exuded confidence. She came from a long line of witchy women, her carrying voice gave her an air of authority which belied her lack of inches, and she didn’t feel the slightest need to work on developing her skills. Julianna was fun-loving and a bit work-shy, and she had an uncanny ability to organize events to support her social life. She thought the mere sound of her voice was enough to ensure the success of her spells! And even if her spells failed, she was sure she could charm her way out of any awkwardness! As the years passed, Imogen’s envy of Julianna’s popularity and light-hearted approach to witchcraft increased and caused her endless heartache.
Last Halloween when the General Witches Assembly asked all covens to recruit and train new witches to help with all the chaos in the world…such as Brexit, forthcoming General Elections, Presidential elections etc., Imogen was thrilled. Here was a chance to shine at last! She was certain she was the right person to select and train Wannabe Witches, what with her knowledge of the minutiae of witchcraft, so she volunteered to run the training course. She got approval to make a start and was asked to report back on progress. Initially, Julianna was quite content with Imogen doing all the work, but when trainees were assigned to coven members for practical work experience, and she learned that she was expected to take responsibility for their actions, she began to hate the whole process, constantly wailing; “That’s not fair, why should I have to do this? I’m busy, I have other plans for tonight”.
As soon as Imogen thought her students were ready for coven membership, she reported back to Beatrice, who was just back from an exhausting trip searching for the out-of-season crocuses which indicated the homes of courageous descendants of the original Dysart Parish Coven of 1769. Despite her fatigue, she proposed a coven meeting to discuss the matter. As usual, Jasper, the Owl, delivered the notice and agenda for the meeting to all coven members. Julianna was aghast to read that Imogen proposed that all “graduates “ of her training scheme be made coven members automatically on graduation! “Not bloody likely! Over my dead body!” thought Julianna, as she sat and drafted her own speech to counter the proposal.
There was a full attendance that night, and Beatrice the Chair, thanked them for coming and explained why the meeting was called. She invited Imogen to speak. Pink faced with excitement, Imogen had uncharacteristically taken care over her appearance, wearing her best flowery dress and red lipstick. “Ladies”, she said,” never has there been a greater need for our skills, what with COVID 19, Brexit, Government formation, Donald Trump… I could go on, but you all know the story. We must expand our membership urgently. The women who have attended my course have been trained to the highest standard using our Book of Shadows; I propose that we do a block membership approval of them all”. She was sure she had the numbers to get her proposal passed, so still flushed with excitement, she took her seat.
“Thank you, Imogen, now before we take a vote, has anyone else got anything to say on the matter?” said Beatrice.
Julianna was on her feet like a shot, “ladies, this is ridiculous, you all know that our craft has been honed over many generations, intentions and attitudes are crucial to witchcraft and are not learned from a book. There is more to spell making than following a recipe! Why you told me yourself Ernestina, that while working with a Diploma candidate and hoping to help the Irish rugby team to victory at the Ireland-England match only a few short months ago, the spell went so badly wrong that English victory was assured practically from the beginning! Better do nothing than cause harm, I say! And what about the time the class decided to help Wizard Simon by clearing the A and E departments because of COVID 19, now everyone is afraid to go near them, and people are dying of other diseases. Ladies, we’ve always maintained that character is more important than knowledge, we can’t allow a block membership approval without the unanimous approval of each individual applicant”.
Julianna could see by the thoughtful look on the faces around the table that she had made her point sufficiently, but before she retook her seat, Imogen was back up on her feet, red-faced as she thumped her wand on the table and shouted: “I can’t believe you are letting her do this, we all know perfectly well that we…”
“Let’s all keep calm and be civil,” said Beatrice, as most of the other coven members shrank into their hats and gowns in the face of Imogen’s rising anger.
“Keep calm? After all the work I’ve put into this?” Imogen was beside herself with rage, her eyes popped, and as she drew herself up, her body seemed to swell with indignation. Poor Beatrice twittered and flapped as she tried vainly to regain control of the meeting. “You told me to go ahead and organize this, remember?”
“Yes but I never…”
“And now, just because “Miss Privilege” here objects, we abandon the plan?” said Imogen. Though it wasn’t her intent, Beatrice knew she had let Imogen down, but Julianna had a valid point.
Julianna, or “Miss Privilege”, as Imogen referred to her, was seated opposite, with her hands steepled and a smug expression on her face. She could see that she had brought around the other coven members to her way of thinking. The idea of bringing in new members to the group just on Imogen’s recommendation! Just because they did her blasted Diploma course! Accepting people with no tradition or pedigree, what next? Looking down her nose, she thought “typical of a parvenu like Imogen to want to take over things”.
“It is our tradition that these decisions must be unanimous, Imogen “, she said quietly, but Imogen could sense her contempt.
“Well, damned if I’m letting this go, we had agreed to expand our numbers based on knowledge and merit, now here you’re going back to the old ways of family connections”, Imogen spat. Beatrice’s voice trembled as she raised it to call for a vote. “Can we have a vote, please. All those in favour of increasing our membership based on Imogen’s Diploma course results, raise your hands.”
Not a single hand went up. Looking around the table, Imogen let go her breath long and slow, as the colour in her face faded and through narrowed lip she said “Well, I see I’m finished here so”, she closed the Book of Shadows with a snap, kicked back her chair and walked to the door, carrying the Book. Beatrice trailed after her, “please, dear, don’t be hasty, we can…” As Imogen turned the door handle, she distinctly heard Julianna’s “good riddance”. Tightening her grip on the door handle, Imogen opened it, walked out and slammed the door behind her.
Imogen felt her entire body tremble with turbulent emotion, she didn’t know whether it was anger or grief, as she made her way back to her hut in Dysart Woods on her broom, with tear-filled eyes. “After all this time, forty-two years, why, why…” was the thought that kept running through her head. Not even the murmur of the breeze weaving through the tall trees of the Woods soothed her tormented soul. Her restlessness caused her to pace the kitchen floor as she drank a hot whiskey, and then a shaft of silver moonlight fell on the Book of Shadows which had dropped out of her bag onto the table. She sat at the table and slowly opened the Book. She loved everything about it, the smell of the old leather cover, the feel of the vellum under her fingers as she traced the words written many years ago:
“Book Of Shadows”
Ratheniska Coven
Chair: Miss Beatrice, Hon. Sec. Miss Imogen
She supposed the coven members would want the Book back now, and as she considered that her fingers closed around the Book, “Well, damned if they are getting it! “she shouted at the full moon. With her heart full of venom at the injustice she felt she had suffered, she resolved to use her knowledge and skill for her benefit only and to hell with the coven’s reputation. Pouring herself another whiskey, she locked up and prepared for bed.
Morning found her exhausted, hungover and flint hearted. Before her morning coffee, she pulled the Book towards her and flicking through it, she considered the possibilities. There were pages and pages of spells to improve crops, heal warts, find water, change minds and hearts….wait a minute, change minds and hearts, how useful! She thought of the negotiators for Government Formation and what they would give for such a spell! A cunning plan slowly evolved in her head despite the pounding headache. She sent one of her pet magpies to each leader, and also to Miss Mary Louise in case she also had an interest, with the message; “Greetings from Imogen, the spell weaver. If you want a particular outcome in negotiations, I can help. Call me on 27496847 to discuss.”
Confident that she would hear from each in due course, she set about composing spells. She realized that they all would want something different, but she rationalized that some would get what they wanted, and she could refund any disappointed parties. Couldn’t be simpler! And sure enough, the calls came in at about lunchtime. Miss Mary Louise’s came in first, and her request was quite straightforward: “I want a spell to break up those negotiations, so no agreement is reached”. Michael’s was next: “Make a spell that will ensure my election as leader of the country as all the leaders of my tribe have been before me.” Leo’s request was: “ A spell which will allow me to go back to the country without being seen to be the one to cause the failure of negotiations” and Eamon’s request was: “A spell that will scupper the chances of Miss Catherine taking my place as Party leader.”
First things first, Imogen set up the banking for the transfer of funds from the interested parties. Then she gleefully set about her task of composing these spells. She arranged that each individual spell would be delivered that night by a pet magpie.
She sat down at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee, pen and paper.
For Mary Louise:
“Let my spell be spread on air
Nothing may my wish impair
Discord and strife among the three
They’ll do no good, and so it will be”
For Michael she had:
“Let my spell be spread on water
May my greatest wish not falter
May the name I crave come to me
Like all leaders of my tribe before me.”
For Leo she said:
“Let my spell be spread on fire
May my halo all admire
T’was hard to get here so let’s stay
The Central Bank will surely pay.
And Eamon’s spell said:
“Let my spell be spread on earth
Which I wish to save and rebirth
Let Catherine’s coup attract too few
So I might have a go or two.
With that, Imogen put down her pen. She felt strangely unwell, with nausea, dizziness and a pounding headache, she managed to make it to her bed before collapsing.
As it happened, Beatrice had called a meeting of the coven that evening as the Government formation talks were taking far too long. She opened the meeting with a brisk “Good evening, ladies, we all know why we are here, so let’s get started. Any ideas?”
“Let’s go through the Book of Shadows for spells and recipes, shall we?” said Julianna with a bright smile, which slowly faded when Amelia said, “You mean Imogen’s Book; do we have it?”
“What do you mean Imogen’s Book, that Book was coven property, common to all”.
“Well, I never saw you write a spell or a recipe in your life.”
“Why would I when…”
Beatrice was quick to put an end to this back and forth saying “Ladies, please, this is getting us nowhere, who’s going to call around to Imogen’s to ask for the Book? Anyone?”
“Of, course we’re not doing that”, shouted Julianna, “she’ll think we can’t manage without her, it’s a matter of principle”.
“Right then, lets each take a sheet of paper and write what we can remember of our own favourite spells and recipes, and we’ll see where that takes us”, said Beatrice as she reached for the stack of paper in the centre of the table and took up her pen. One hour later, the only thing they had to show for their efforts was a wastepaper basket full of crumpled paper. Amid rising tension in the room, Beatrice spoke, “ that’s it, pens down, let’s just go to Imogen and ask for the Book”.
She got up, took her hat and cape from the hook behind the door, and made her way out… “What, and admit we can’t manage without her? And agree to her preposterous plan?” Julianna asked.
“We’ll come up with a compromise, we’ll negotiate, but we do need that Book”. Beatrice left quickly followed by Amelia and Justina. Julianna felt she had no option but to tag along, still muttering about principles and standards.
When they arrived outside Imogen’s door, several magpies were pecking at the window. Beatrice called Imogen’s name as she lifted the latch and entered the kitchen. She took in the scene with a glance: the Book on the table which was littered with crumpled pieces of paper, the fire in the stove to their right had gone out, the paraffin lamp on the counter by the sink cast a shadow over the room and the door to the bedroom to the left of the stove was ajar. There was grunting, almost an animal like sound coming from the room. Beatrice pushed open this door and entered the bedroom to find Imogen sprawled on the bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, her back arched as she frothed at the mouth. They turned Imogen on her side, as Beatrice delegated duties. Julianna (under protest) to boil water for camomile, rose and lavender brew, Justina to watch Imogen, Amelia to talk to the magpies and get their story. At the same time, she went through the papers strewn on the table.
“Well, well, so Imogen was thinking about Government formation too!” she thought with a wry smile, “But not in the way we witches would want!” For a moment she thought about collecting the Book and abandoning Imogen, but realized they must get Imogen to recant her spells to reverse the damage, and anyway she was one of their own and two wrongs never made a right.
Calling all into the bedroom, she said: “we must all work together on a spell to heal Imogen”. “As long as it commits us to just recovery and not…” Julianna said. “Come on everyone, wands forward”, said Beatrice, who ignored her, and chanted
“May our spell be spread on air,
Nothing may our wish impair,
Imogen’s good health we all agree
Is our dearest wish and so it shall be”.
As they chanted, Imogen’s body relaxed, and her breath became regular. Her eyes lost that glassy appearance as she sat up, clutched her head and moaned “What happened?”
“What do you think happened? Abandoning every principle that we witches stand for? Going against the creed, ill-wishing people? Working for yourself only? How could you let us down like this?” cried Beatrice.
“You kicked me out of the coven, what else could I do to secure my future and pension?” said Imogen.
“Well you had better rethink your plans; we’ve come to reinstate you, provided you recant those spells. If anyone were to associate the Ratheniska coven with such chicanery, we’d never live it down. Anyway Imogen, surely you don’t want to live like this, producing spells for your own advantage only? You know it has no honour or integrity. We fall sick from the damage it does to us” said Beatrice holding the crumpled paper in her hands, “come on, let’s sit around the table and we’ll help you cancel them”.
“But what about enlarging the coven membership with my students.?”
“Dear, let’s leave that for the present, disband your school, and we’ll seek other ways to extend our influence. We are offering you a chance to redeem your character and reputation by inviting you back to the group. Take the offer”.
she had to do something about it. When she saw Julianna attempt to take the Book of Shadows from the table, she stopped her with: “Julianna, that belongs to Imogen, and it stays with Imogen. I’m sure she will bring it with her to the next meeting”.
With that, she left the hut and got on her broom and as she did her eye was caught by some flowers under the silver birch. Yes, you’ve guessed it, crocus blossoms under the tree! “My goodness”, she thought “how could Imogen have come by one of the magic crocus bulbs, I was sure she had no Witch heritage. I’ll have to check out her ancestry again!” She said nothing to anyone just then, but she turned to Amelia with a smile, and said: “Well it does take courage to admit mistakes and make amends”.
So the Ratheniska coven was reformed and went back to their more traditional concerns and left Government formation to the politicians. I’ll let you know how that works out!