The Unfamiliar

It was hard to sit still, her hands fidgeting without her permission so many times as she sat and waited for the Head Witch to reach her, she was sure she couldn’t count that high. Maize tried to keep her attention front and center, but it was just so hard.

It was familiar day, and she couldn’t wait to see what she got.

One more glance down the line told her she had four more students and their assignments before Head Witch Renee Laprise reached her. Four more allocations of the ever-so-precious and adored creatures those four—and the twenty-one who came prior in the hot afternoon sun while Maize was forced to perch on a chair on the stage in front of all of the parents and power heads in the main square—before she would finally know where the rest of her life would lead her.

“Arnond Pheer.” The Head Witch stopped in front of the tall and gangly young man, already inches above the other twelve-year-olds of her class, his squeaking voice often crackling into baritone before heading back to higher octaves these days. Maize liked him well enough, though he had a horrible crush on Dahlia Smimmer, the blonde daughter of wealth and power who’d already been assigned a delicate dove and her placement with the head of finance, following in her father’s footsteps. Hardly a surprise, nor was the cheerfully panting hound puppy Renee placed in Arnond’s lap. “Your aptitudes are clear, dear boy.” Her beaming smile had him grinning back despite the damp sweat on his face. Maize eye rolled at his nervousness. There was nothing to be nervous about.

Right. That’s why her hands again began their twisting dance in her lap. Not nervous at all, was she? Maize swiftly tucked them away under her thighs to keep them from betraying her again as the Head Witch went on.

“Study hard and prosper in the law,” she said. Arnond let out a little whoop of happiness, echoed by a small knot of people in the crowd with enough family resemblance to him Maize had no doubt they were all related.

Her own parents barely garnered a glance from her as she sat back again and tried to control her breathing. Would it be a hawk, maybe? She’d love that, though it would mean her oldest brother, Charman and his golden eagle familiar would still outrank her. No one had been surprised when her burly eldest sibling took home that egret on his familiar day, since their father had one, too. Or that his aptitude matched his sire’s, leading him to enforcement. He was well on his way to becoming a defender already, so Maize didn’t stand a chance there. But her middle brother, Alpos, only had a Peregrine falcon, so a hawk would definitely outrank him, even if he was in training to become a tracker for the enforcement league.

Her heels hit the leg of her chair, startling her as she stilled her feet, as much traitors as her hands, it seemed. So frustrating to be the youngest, born last in her class, and the smallest, too, the only one whose shoes didn’t touch the floor. But none of that mattered. Maize Pritchett would be a name to remember if she had to wrench a powerful familiar from the Head Witch herself.

She had to force air into her lungs when sparkles formed in her vision and darkness started closing in, her breath inhaled in a mighty gasp while the next three were delivered of their lifelong partners and the positions they’d been chosen to fill. One jackrabbit for Nellie Quang sent her to the healer’s hall, while a small, white cat meant Ophelia Hezmer was bound for the magical historical division. And, finally, a playful fox pup landed in the hands of Thimmy Plythe, his beaming smile at the wriggling creature only increasing when the Head Witch announced, “We’re delighted for Thimmy to join the education program.”

He’d become a teacher someday. Maize’s faith in the process soared because so far, every single one of her classmates were assigned the posting she’d guessed they would, though she’d be going home to check the list she’d made and the assignments she’d granted each of them in turn to ensure she had them all correct.

Never mind she had no idea where she’d end up. That was the way of things, wasn’t it?

It was suddenly her turn, her smug delight at being right washed away as the tall, dark-haired Head Witch stopped in front of her. Maize wriggled in her chair, Renee’s lovely smile and glowing green power easing her rapidly beating heart just enough.

“Maize,” she said, voice very low, bending just a little to brush her fingers over the trembling girl’s cheek, “have faith.” Then, she straightened, her lime green and black velvet robe swirling, the sent of sweetgrass and sage rising from them as the Head Witch spoke to the assembly.

“Maize Pritchett,” she said, “has been assigned to general witchcraft.” With that, she turned and, almost as an afterthought, fished out a small something from the pocket of her robe, placing the tiny creature in Maize’s outstretched hands as the girl gaped up at her idol in shock and growing horror.

Looked down at the squeaking, hissing, wobbling owlet that fell over when it tried to spread its spindly wings. And burst into tears.

“Well, I really have no idea what Renee was thinking.” Mother dolled out mashed potatoes to Father’s plate while Charman helped himself to the lion’s share of the buttered bread. Alpos was already nose-deep in his soup and salad, forking in as much as he could, barely chewing before he swallowed and filled up again. “I’m going to have a talk with her Monday morning.” Her dark eyes flickered to Maize, but her mother looked away with enough guilt and shame the girl hung her head in response. “There has to be a mistake.”

“Let it be, Ralligona,” Father said, one big hand reaching over to cover Maize’s, smothering her tiny one in his massive grip. She stared down at the old scars on his tanned knuckles, years as a defender worn on his body. “I’m sure Renee knows what she’s doing. And there’s nothing wrong with general witchcraft.”

“Except it’s for losers.” Charman laughed around his mouthful of potatoes and beef, Alpos grinning while he paused at last to chew.

“Boys,” Mother said. Why did it seem to Maize like she didn’t mean the chastisement? “You’re right, of course, Stromo.” Mother began her own meal, not looking at Maize again. “It’ll all work out.”

Maize quietly excused herself and fled to her room to cry some more. Because she knew like her mother said, this had to be some kind of mistake. Only those without aptitude were placed in general witchcraft. The Head Witch might as well have painted a giant L on her forehead, proclaiming her useless and worthless and without value.

This couldn’t be happening to her. Except it was, the stark reminder of her lot in life announcing itself with another hissing protest from the small box she’d placed her new familiar in before reluctantly joining her family for dinner. Alone once again with the ugly little thing, she cried all the harder, turning her back to the useless creature, feeling as pathetic as it looked.

But life went on, and Maize’s assignment held true. Though she tried to fake sick the first day, Mother’s deft hand and healer training had Maize examined and deemed healthy faster than Alpos could devour his breakfast. That meant she had to drag herself, her new robe of dull gray denoting her lack of station dragging in the dust, all the way to the other side of town and to the learning center for those who needed extra help.

All while carrying the ridiculous and unhappy owlet in her pocket, hissing back at it when it protested. “Oh, do shut up.”

It didn’t listen.

The next few weeks were a blur of resentment and bitterness that had Maize turning inward, retreating from her favorite subjects and hobbies, attending school with the handful of other students deemed unable to advance without assistance, if at all. She avoided them entirely, solitary and lonely to the point of tears at the end of every day. She took great pride in the stoic steel in her spine that allowed her to make it there and back again and to her room before she would allow herself the weeping and hiding that was all she seemed capable of.

Mother’s growing worry over her physical and mental state wasn’t helping, constant check ins and questions only making Maize retreat further into her depression.

She didn’t remember the first time she fantasied about the ugly brown thing she was supposed to care for meeting an untimely death. When she became aware of that daydream, however, she was shocked and ashamed. Except as that first month passed her by and dreary desolation and mediocrity seemed her only future, she often spent hours alone in her room, staring at the ugly little thing and imagining all the ways it could accidentally die so she could be free.

Familiars did perish. She knew that, had heard of magic users who’d lost theirs. Sure, they said it was awful and everything, but Maize was positive she’d get over it if it meant she could have a real familiar.

The worst part was, the tiny creature seemed to despise her as much as she did it, always hissing at her, faint screeching keeping her up at night, the sharp beak more likely to lash out at her along with the needle-like claws than not. Clearly the animosity was mutual, Maize finally convinced herself one dark and lonely and truly horrible night when she’d cried so much her chest ached and her eyes burned as the owl screamed its unhappiness at her. And had her sitting up in bed with a rather interesting ah-ha! moment giving her the first hope she’d felt since the day she was told she was worthless.

Charman was leaving when she came down that morning, Rexoth, his golden eagle, on his arm. “Careful,” he laughed at his little sister, the owlet balanced in her hand, “Rex hasn’t had his breakfast yet.”

Maize glared back while the big eagle shook his head, tilting it to stare at the hissing creature standing its ground against the massive raptor. At least it has gumption, Maize thought, though that meant little against such a formidable creature as the giant eagle.

She barely remembered breakfast, leaving in a bit of a daze as she went over and over what she planned to say. Because instead of heading for her assigned place, Maize took matters into her own hands, heading for town square and the office of the Head Witch herself with a plan she hoped might finally free her from this horrible fate she’d seemed to have earned somehow.

It never occurred to someone like Maize the Head Witch was far too busy to just drop everything and speak to her privately. Certainly, the expression on her assistant’s face seemed to indicate he didn’t think this visit would end well. But before Maize could second guess her audacity, the door to the main office opened and Renee herself stepped out with a beaming smile and a hearty laugh that always made Maize feel special and welcome.

“Come in, dear girl,” she said. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Hot chocolate and cookies appeared as Maize took a seat on the sofa beside the fireplace in the Head Witch’s large office, massive wooden desk under the tall windows messy with papers and books and objects, though Renee seemed delighted to sit on the black leather couch, sighing as she did, waving one hand until the items in question appeared.

“I didn’t have breakfast,” she winked at Maize. “Don’t tell, but I love cookies first thing in the morning.”

Maize agreed completely, helping herself to one. The hissing from her pocket—the owlet again tucked away for the day as was her usual choice—had her frowning down at it. Maize brought it out and set it on the coffee table, offering it a chunk of cookie. That seemed to make it happy enough it settled, sampling the sweet treat, wobbly and ugly as ever.

But when Maize looked up, her planned speech ready to go, she was surprised to find the Head Witch gazing at the hideous thing with adoration and tenderness.

“Do you know what my familiar is?” Maize realized she had no idea. Renee looked up, held out one hand. And, to Maize’s utter surprise, a small, brown owl swooped down from the top of the curtain rod over her desk to land on her palm. Maybe a foot tall with a white heart face, the barn owl’s mottled brown, gold and cream feathers ruffled until the creature settled. Its huge, black eyes glistened as they first observed Maize, then the owlet courageously tackling the crumbling cookie. “This is Horphonse.” He fluttered his wings, shaking them out, fluffing the feathers of his chest as he swiveled his head and stared back at her in silence. “We have been best friends since I was twelve. But it wasn’t always that way.” She settled him on the table where he helped himself to his own cookie, one claw holding it while he bit at it with his small, white beak. The owlet watched him a moment before mimicking him, or trying to, finally getting the knack of things and, instead of wobbling now, had found balance enough to carry on with more aplomb. “Horphonse and I didn’t get along at first.” He looked up at her, blinked, then went back to his cookie. “I know what it’s like to be disappointed, to think things aren’t going as we had planned. But I’m asking you to trust me.” Her dark eyes held Maize’s with deep care and compassion. “I know you’re trying to understand. But you have a great future ahead and I put you on the path to that future the only way I could.”

Maize stared back in shock and wonder. “But general witchcraft,” she said. Hated that it came out as a wail.

“General witchcraft,” Renee winked. “All the magicks of our kind available for exploration.” She smiled at her owl. “Imagine that.”

Maize gulped. Felt her cheeks pale and then flush. “I didn’t think of it that way.” She hadn’t, not until just that moment. And suddenly all the possibilities opened up and her heart would surely leap from her chest if she didn’t get out of there and go see just what it was she really could do.

She took a handful of cookies with her, the owlet back in her pocket, her thank you to the Head Witch chased out by Renee’s hearty laugh.

Maize’s entire life changed from then on, her natural optimism and excitement and bubbling enthusiasm all returning in a rush. While she again flustered her mother with her outgoingness, Father mentioned more than once over the next few dinners just how happy she seemed and listened patiently as she told him all of the new things she was going to learn.

Because the world had literally opened up to her at last.

What was once the worst of fates? Was now an invitation to do whatever she wanted, study anything she chose. And she did, throwing herself into all forms of magical training, taking up bits and pieces of things she loved, even granted special permission to join elder classes and ask questions of their teachers, though her brothers weren’t happy at her newfound freedom.

“Stay away from defender training.” Charman cornered her outside her room two weeks after her fateful visit with the Head Witch.

“Or else what?” She’d grown cocky again in her returned faith in herself, though he’d been known to offer up physical punishment when he thought her too outspoken.

“Or I’ll feed that joke of a thing you call a familiar to Rex after all,” he snarled in her face. And, without warning, reached into the pocket of her robe, pulling out the owlet in his big, rough hand.

It was the very first time Maize felt anything but annoyance and dislike for the creature. The surge of protectiveness shocked her as she lunged to retrieve it. But she needn’t have bothered. The owlet, its black eyes glittering, dug its beak into the side of his finger and flapped its sparsely feathered wings, hissing for all it was worth.

He dropped it with a curse, Maize just fast enough to catch it with a spell she’d only learned this morning before it hit the floor. Her brother shook his hand and glared at her.

“That’s what you get for messing with me and Chilson,” Maize said. A name. He had a name now. And yes, she knew in her heart, now that she’d let him in, Chilson was a he and he was her familiar and she was his witch.

Almost made her cry again. For a good reason, this time.

Charman moved out the following year, Alpos following six months later, giving Maize the full freedom she needed to really blossom. And while she knew her parents worried—she heard enough whispered conversations between them with her mother’s concern calmed by her father’s quiet reassurances—she didn’t care anymore what anyone thought. If this was the life she’d been dealt, the future would be hers to design.

In fact, she grew to love the idea of not having to fit into a box like everyone else, though she did sometimes fight the loneliness that such freedom gained her. Friends were few and far between, considering how unconventional her own training was.

But, through it all, she had Chilson. And while he might have been rough around the edges when they met, by the time she finished her first year in general witchcraft, he’d blossomed into a beautiful, if small, barn owl himself. Though his plumage was lighter, more gold than browns, he had that same white heart face as Horphonse, the same shining black eyes and when he flew, he was beautiful to her.

Maize never knew how unusual her relationship with the Head Witch was, that one of her station would never make time on a regular basis for a student, nor that their once a week breakfasts over cookies and hot chocolate, talking about all the things Maize couldn’t seem to find anyone else to share with, caused a stir with the heads of the departments. They feared Renee was wasting her time on a child who’d been assigned such a lowly position.

But that was because they didn’t know the final outcome of the Head Witch’s plan.

As the years passed, Maize mastered so many forms of magic she was asked, before she’d even graduated, to assist in teaching younger classes on various techniques she’d not just tackled young, but made and modified in ways that improved on old methods of doing things no one had considered updating until Maize just did it. And, when she did graduate, despite being offered her pick of positions in a multitude of areas, Maize instead chose to remain in general witchcraft, to take over the head of that department, and continue to explore and innovate all kinds of magic while more and more children flocked to learn from her by request.

And so it was that general witchcraft became a desirable assignment, with students taking a variety of studies, always of their own choosing, until it became apparent that those who learned under Maize’s care came out of their education with more confidence, more skills and stronger power than their traditionally trained counterparts.

A giant shift happened almost overnight, though the beginnings were years in the making, as the entire system adopted Maize’s way of education in a wave of innovation that changed everything. By her thirtieth birthday, Maize was not only sought after and respected as an educator and researcher, she constantly fielded requests from other cities and countries to come and share her knowledge.

This was better than anything she could have imagined.

She knocked on the office door, peeking in to find the Head Witch already taking her seat at the coffee table, Horphonse swooping down to nuzzle Chilson before the two owls shared a cookie. Maize’s mind whirled, her most recent trip abroad only just ended last evening, and as she sat, she realized how much she’d missed her friend. Noticed in surprise the lines around the woman’s eyes, how Renee’s beloved dark hair was now more silver than not. When had she aged? But her smile was as kind and loving as ever and when she reached for Maize’s hand, that warm power engulfed her with the vigor she remembered.

“I have a request,” Renee said.

“Anything for you,” Maize said. And meant it from the bottom of her heart.

“It’s time I step down.” Renee waved off the immediate protest. “I want to retire, my dear. And I know the perfect witch to take my place.”

It took Maize far longer than it should have for someone of her intelligence to make the connection. But the moment she did, she gasped.

“Me?”

Maize stood at the far end of the stage in the center square, the soft chatter of the children seated there a sharp reminder of the girl she’d been all those years ago. The note in her pocket, delivered to her just before she came down here, nervous for her first familiar day, had been from Renee.

I, too, was in general witchcraft. But you changed the world. Time to pay it forward.

Maize knew exactly what she meant. Visited the rookery before finally crossing the square to start the ceremony. And as she assigned each beaming, nervous, excited and adoring child with a familiar—all sent to general witchcraft—she knew it wasn’t the assignment that was important.

It was the challenge.

That was why, when she paused beside the small boy with the giant, blue eyes who shifted in his seat, sitting on his little hands, feet not touching the ground, at the end of the line of happy children, she had already decided what familiar he was to have. She’d seen it in him, what Renee had seen in her, through this first year she served as Head Witch. And knew exactly what to do.

While the tiny owlet hissed in her pocket, waiting for her chance to fly.