Hapenny Magick

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Authors: Jennifer Carson
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cloak across her shoulders. “I’m going to be gone for a few days. If you write that letter, I’ll make sure it gets delivered when I return.”
    â€œWhere are you going?” Mae asked. She had been looking forward to getting to know Aletta better.
    The wizards exchanged another glance. They seemed to be doing that a lot today.
    â€œI’m going to be spending a few days at the farm. I need to play the pig a while longer.”
    â€œBut why?” Mae cried. Her heartbeat picked up speed as fear gushed through her body.
    â€œCall it a fondness for slops.” Aletta’s smile wavered around the edges. “I’ll be just fine. I’ve handled Gelbane before. Don’t worry. I’ll be back by the time you finish that book sitting on your bed.”
    â€œLet’s walk Aletta out, shall we, Mae?”
    Callum pulled the front door open and followed the two onto the porch. “Take care, Aletta.”
    Aletta stretched to peck Callum on the forehead and pinched Mae’s cheeks. They watched from the porch until she disappeared into the woods. Then Callum held out his hand to Mae. “Shall we begin?”
    Mae nodded and curled her hand around Callum’s finger. She knew he was trying to distract her, but she couldn’t help worrying about Aletta. She hoped Gelbane didn’t catch her and decide that runaway pigs should be eaten.

Chapter Nine
    The birds flittered to and fro, anxious to put the finishing touches on their nests as Mae and Callum picked their way across the creek on the stepping-stones. The squirrels called to each other, sharing stories about tender spring shoots and nut stores. The sun shone through the trees’ spring leaves and dappled the trunks with spots of bright light.
    Mae considered each step. She didn’t want to trip and injure her ankle more, or Callum would make her wait even longer to learn a bit of magick. The wizard was just ahead of her. Every once in a while he would stop, put his hand to his chin and look very thoughtful.
    During one of those moments, Mae crawled atop a low tree stump and plopped down. “Are we lost, Callum?”
    â€œWhat?” The man turned to her. “Oh, no, no. We aren’t lost, exactly; I have merely turned myself around a bit. You rest while I find the right path.” Callum peered into the forest and, settling his cap further back on his head, disappeared behind a thicket of trees.
    Mae rolled her achy ankle; it was tender, even with the extra support of the ankle-high boot. Swiveling on her perch, Mae peered past the underbrush. A meadow lay just beyond her seat on the tree stump. When they were younger, she had often wandered with Leif to a small meadow to pick flowers, with his little brother, Reed, in tow. Reed still shadowed his older brother almost everywhere.
    The sun lit upon the flowers in the meadow, painting them a golden hue. A lone tree grew in the center. Its leaves were shaped like feathers, and creamy white buds burst forth from the ends of the branches.
    Mae pointed to the tree and yelled to Callum, “What kind of tree is that?”
    But the wizard had moved too far away to hear, so Mae slipped from the stump and made her way through the underbrush. When she reached the tree, she ran her hand over the smooth bark and touched the fuzzy buds.
    Reaching down with a twiggy finger, the tree snagged Mae’s hair.
    â€œHey!” Mae yelped, rubbing her head. She felt a tug at the bow of her pinafore. Mae turned in a circle, trying to catch the ends of her ties. “That wasn’t very nice!”
    She pulled the flute out of her pocket and stepped back from the grabbing fingers. Mae licked her lips and then put the flute to them. A soft tune, like a gentle wind meandering through the forest, mingled with the breeze.
    The tree bent and swayed to the beat. Mae stared as the buds on the limbs unfurled into creamy white flowers. The center of each blossom formed a

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