Chapter 4: Chapter Four: A House in Turmoil

“Leah is doing okay?” As if slowly surfacing from a bath of treacle, the world gained colour, light and sound. His head was pounding, and he didn’t dare open his eyes just yet. He had the feeling it would be a lot like looking into the sun after coming out of a tunnel, and he didn’t want to add to the feeling of having been hit in the head with a concrete pavement. As the voices slowly came into focus, he realized that that was, indeed what had happened. Unless he’d had one banger of a hallucination, everything really had happened. 

He vaguely recognized the voice of the woman who had so gently floated down with the girl -- Leah? -- she was talking about. The other voice was Charlie’s. “Yes, she’s with Sarah. Calming down. You know how she gets.” He wondered what they were talking about. The girl had blown the shadow creature apart. Had that had an effect on her? He moved a little and became more aware of the fact that he was both lying on something soft and was covered by something soft. 

“Quite,” the stern woman said. “Make sure she gets some rest. Sarah can only do so much.” There was a slight chuckle. “Besides, they’ll tear the house down if you don’t stop them.” Charlie guffawed, which was already impressive. Most people didn’t, in Jonathan’s experience, know how to guffaw. There was a lot of chuckling and fake laughter, but a real guffaw took heart.

“You’re right,” Charlie said. “But getting her to slow down when she’s like this is… well, it’s a bit like trying to make wet spaghetti stand upright. It’s frustrating for anyone involved and in the end you just end up making more of a mess than you started with.” Jonathan let his eyes drift open. It was exactly as painful as he thought it was going to be, and he regretted it immediately. Still, it let him take in his environment. He was on a couch, one of three that were arranged in a circle, and covered by a blanket, which explained all the softness. The rest of the room looked a lot like a living room, with high ceilings and bookcases that went all the way up. It was a cozy room, with a fireplace and a small table that, if the stains were anything to go by, had seen a lot of coffee or tea and very few coasters. The two voices were coming from the room adjacent to this one, the door open just a crack. 

“You have a way with words, Ferman,” the woman said. “How about our new arrival? Is he… well, going to make it?”

“Hit his head pretty bad. And, you know, he was already ‘dead’, so…” Charlie’s voice trailed off, and even without seeing the two women, Daniel could feel the stare of disapproval Charlie was currently on the receiving end of. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Ellen. I’m not one of your students. Or one of your teachers, for that matter. I know what’s at stake.”

“Make sure you act like it, Ferman. We need as many of them as we can. Lord Mangrove is already having to go out just to keep up a semblance of normalcy. Vigours is back at the School to hold down the fort.” The woman, Ellen, sounded tired. “I’m worried.”

“It’ll be fine, L,” Charlie said, with that ‘there-there’ kind of energy that only women who wore poofy dresses like her could properly pull off without sounding condescending. “You and Alistair have done a bang-up job keeping this whole thing running. And it could just be an uptick. We had one of those when you were at Threewees.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t call it that,” Ellen said with a slight chuckle. “But yes. Maybe. I hope so. I hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Charlie said. “Now go on, have a sweet.”

“Ferm-- Charlie, I’m not--”

“I’m not going to offer it again.”

“... fine.” Jonathan couldn’t help but smirk. It seemed that Charlie Ferman’s disarming nature had no regard for age or authority. “Thank you, Ferman. I really must be going; setting things up for the new year is a lot of work. Make sure the new kid is all up to speed. Get the ritual done as soon as you can.” ‘The Ritual’. Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder what that was like or about. It sounded ominous. Culty. 

“I’ve been doing this for some time, Ellen. I’ll be fine. The kid will be fine. Have some faith in the system.” Jonathan heard rustling and he closed his eyes again. He didn’t want to be found out having listened in on their conversation. Who knew what kind of punishment magical people had. Probably some very unpleasant things, come to think of it. He heard the door opening with a slight creak. 

“Still asleep,” Ellen said. “Shame. Would have liked to meet him.”

“You will soon enough, ‘Lady Lalonde’. I’m sure he’ll be plenty impressed with you.”

“Hm. I suppose.” The door closed again. “That’s me off. Take care of yourself, Ferman.”

“Always do, Ellen. Go on, you’ve places to be and I have a household to keep running.” The two women moved away from the door, and Jonathan sat upright. Immediately, the throbbing in his head got worse again. That had been a mistake, but, well, it was too late now. He groaned. The door swung open and he hazarded a glance at Charlie, who was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “I see you’re up,” she said cheerfully. “Looking about as good as can be expected, eh?”

Jonathan wanted to say something witty in response, but his brain was still in recovery mode, and his mouth felt like… well, like he’d landed on it in a fight with a giant… “What was that thing?”

“Ah, yes, well…” Charlie walked into the room and sat down on the other sofa, crossing her legs. She was still the same slightly jovial person he’d met earlier, but she looked more comfortable here, more relaxed. This was clearly her home. “I didn’t want you to meet one so early, but that, Jonathan, is what we call a spirit. They’re… well, they’re pretty much always dangerous.” She flattened her skirt a bit. “They’re… what we’re fighting,” she said. “They’re what you’ll be training to fight.”

Jonathan stared at her in disbelief. “We have to fight those things? We barely made it out alive! It almost ate me!” Charlie’s face was an apology wrapped in a sheepish smile. 

“Yes, well… I’m not very good with magic. Not anymore. Leah… the girl, you remember her?” Jonathan nodded. “Well, you saw how quickly she dealt with it. She’s still starting out, so you can imagine how powerful a mage gets, especially with their familiar fighting by their side.” 

“You don’t have a familiar?” He asked, and immediately regretted it when Charlie shook her head with a sour expression on her face.

“No,” she said quietly. “Not anymore.” Jonathan felt a little guilty. This was clearly a painful subject for her. If her familiar had been another person who she’d grown up with, then of course it would have been a painful memory. 

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Charlie smiled, and she seemed to pull herself upright by that smile, taking a deep breath. 

“It’s fine, Jonathan. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. But yes, that’s what we fight, and that’s why kids like you are so important. And don’t worry, you won’t be in that position again. Today was definitely not the norm.” She stood up. “But we will have to get you to do the ceremony sooner rather than later, so we can pair you up with your witch or wizard.” Jonathan stood up too, and then immediately sat back down again. 

“Ow,” he said.

Charlie walked over to him and felt his forehead, and seemed satisfied with the result. “Don’t worry. You’ll get some more rest first, and you can meet the other kids before all of you head off.”

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“Head off where? And don’t I have to meet my… witch… wizard… whatever… first? Before the ceremony? So we can like, pick the animal?” He was confused (again), his head hurt (again) and he was also a little bit excited (that part was new). 

“Well, no, because whoever you’re a familiar to will recognize your familiar form, but not you, so we have to make sure that’s all set up when you head to…” she paused and took a breath, “the Waxing Weather Warlock School.” She scrunched up her face. “I call it Threewees. Sounds a lot sillier, and silly means less self-important.”

“Threewees,” Jonathan said flatly. He didn’t know if he liked this better, or the other one. Waxing Weather Warlock school… “Why Warlock? Why not Witch or Wizard? Those have ‘W’s too, no?”

Charlie shrugged. “Probably because ‘Fivewees’ just sounds like you’re going to the bathroom a lot,” she said. “And Warlock is gender neutral. Wizard and Witch are both so binary, so this is a bit more all-encompassing, you know?”

Jonathan nodded. “I guess. You mentioned the other kids?” Charlie nodded enthusiastically and went to the door. “I’ll have them come say hi to you. And I promise I’ll try to get them to take it easy on you, I know you’re still recovering.” 

“Thank you,” Jonathan said just as the door flew open and he was greeted by two excited faces that barged into the room. 

“He’s alive!” the boy said. He looked buff, with short light brown hair, and was maybe a little younger than Jonathan, although puberty had clearly hit him like a truck. Handsome, although with a little bit of a skin problem, he was all smiles.

“He’s awake!” the girl yelped, throwing her hands in the air triumphantly. She had short blonde hair with a very artsy pink streak, black lipstick and she wore a band shirt and a wide grin. 

“All right, calm down, you two,” Charlie said, chiding them. “He’s been through a lot, and he’s a little banged up, so make sure you give him some space, you hear?” 

“Fine,” the girl pouted, but the smile was immediately back on her face. It was a very pretty smile. Jonathan found it hard to look away from her. She was radiant. Charlie rolled her eyes and walked out of the room. The girl immediately hurried forward. “How are you feeling, new kid?” she said, jumping over the back of the nearest couch and falling into it with a loud ‘Thump’. “Name’s Sarah.”

“Jonathan,” Jonathan said weakly, and waved. The boy walked over to him and offered him a hand. Not a traditional handshake, no. This was the arm-raised-at-the-elbow pose of someone wanting to clasp hands together. As bros. Jonathan had never clasped hands or, in fact, had a bro. He awkwardly did the clasp. 

“I’m Simon,” the guy said. “Don’t worry about Sarah.” Jonathan wasn’t worried. The girl was looking at him and he tried not to look in her eyes too much, because, well, he didn’t wanna be weird. He didn’t want to be that guy. “She doesn’t bite, appearances to the contrary.”

“Rawr,” Sarah said with a little chuckle. “So what do you think you’re gonna be, Jonathan?” Jonathan sat there and blinked a few times. To call the question vague was an understatement. 

“Familiar form, dude!” Simon interjected. “You’re gonna be doing the ritual soon, and you’re gonna find out what you’re, like, supposed to look like.” Simon threw himself into the third couch. Jonathan wasn’t sure how he felt about the dude-bro vibes Simon was giving off. “I mean, not that your human form isn’t easy on the eyes.” Jonathan’s brain, barely up and running again, stuttered for a moment as Simon winked at him. 

“And you tell him not to worry about me,” Sarah said with a chortle. “Let’s try not to overwhelm him just yet, yeah? Besides, Simon, it’s not like you’re mister experience.”

“Just because you’ve been at this for a year,” Simon said, sticking his tongue out, “doesn’t mean you’re suddenly some kind of senior.”

“It does, actually!” she said, and all of a sudden, she seemed to turn inside out. There was a flurry of light and movement, and then, as if Sarah had never been there in the first place, the couch was inhabited by an extremely fluffy arctic fox with a few little pink streaks around her ears. “Fight me, coward!” she barked. Her voice sounded a little bit more high-pitched, but perfectly understandable. 

“Have at you!” Simon said, jumping upright onto the couch before he, too, disappeared in a kaleidoscopic blur and turned into…

“You’re a ferret?” Jonathan asked with a smirk.

“What about it? You wanna fight, bro?” the tiny creature that was Simon said. The fact that he still had his own voice made the transformation even funnier and more jarring. His face was small and fluffy, with a white nose and a little black mask. The ferret bounced up and down on the cushions before it fell off the couch. Sarah turned back into a human as she giggled her heart out. Her laugh was delightful, and Jonathan felt something tugging in the middle of his chest. He wouldn’t mind hearing her laugh more. 

“So like… What’s this ceremony… ritual like?” Jonathan asked, feeling a little bad about breaking up their playfighting. 

Simon, still as a ferret, hopped onto the table. It took him four tries, every single one punctuated by a snort from Sarah. “Well!” Simon said. “It’s really quite simple. We’re going to get a witch here who will help you find your, like, true form. You’re gonna drift in space for a bit and then you’re gonna turn into like a wolf or a snake or something, and then everything is going to explode. It’s cool as shit.”

Sarah rolled her eyes with a grin. “Boys,” she scoffed. “Don’t listen to him. It’s like a guided spiritual journey.” Jonathan didn’t like being lumped in with Simon as ‘one of the boys’, but that was quickly swept aside with him trying to figure out what he’d be like as an animal, and he was more than a little distracted by Simon doing another war dance on the coffee table, hopping sideways at Sarah before the tiny nose turned back to Jonathan. 

“Don’t worry, man. It’s going to be great, and you’ll love your new form. Everyone does!” He hopped a few times, enthusiastically. “You’ll do great.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Jonathan said, still skeptical. 

“You’re going to have to,” Sarah said. “He never shuts up.”

“I swear to--” Simon started and then fell backwards off the coffee table. Sarah giggled, and this time Jonathan couldn’t help but join her.