The Herbwitch's Apprentice Ireen Chau (best life changing books txt) 📖

night, I...I had a dream and the plant next to my bed grew.” I toed the bag, and the engorged leaves tumbled out.

Lana’s face remained stony. “Perhaps you used too much fertilizer,” she said and turned back around to busy herself.

I glared at her back, a surge of anger and frustration overtaking me. “Why are you so against helping me?”

“I do not teach humans.”

“I’m half witch and I have magic,” I said, marching over to Lana. “Last time when you asked me what those leaves were, I didn’t know, but...I knew. I saw blue and the colors told me what it was. Repair. It said repair.”

Lana began sorting through the herbs.

I clenched my jaw. “You’re not listening to me!”

“Not everything is about you, girl,” she said harshly. “Typical of humans, demanding favors when they need them and disappearing when they don’t. You are selfish, like your—”

She stopped abruptly, and pinched her lips into a thin line. I stepped back, chastened. “No one told me I had a witch for a mother,” I said. “Not even my Papa.”

She was silent and did not react.

“I don’t know what to do. Please help me.”

Lana turned. There were deep creases along her forehead and frown lines around her mouth. “Put this over there,” she said, flinging a sprig of herbs in my hand. I barely caught it before it hit the floor.

“Huh?”

“Are you deaf? Hang that over there,” she said, pointing at the row of hooks above my head. There were already several different bunches wrapped in twine. I hung the one she gave me on an empty hook and looked over for approval, but Lana’s head was bent over as she wrapped another bunch of herbs with a length of twine.

Several minutes passed in silence as she handed me each bunch of herbs to hang on the wall. I was too afraid to ask what was happening. When the last bunch of herbs was strung, Lana broke the silence.

“Follow me.”

She traversed the room and revealed a short hallway behind a curtain. I trotted after quickly, noting that the interior of the cottage was a lot larger than the exterior. The hallway opened up to a modest bedchamber. Everything inside was tidy and organized. Lana knelt before the bed and pulled a box from underneath the bed frame. It was small, with no embellishments or gilding, but she held it with great care.

“Tell me exactly what you’ve been experiencing with the colors,” she said.

I took a breath and recounted the very first time I had seen the purple smudge with Rowena in the gardens, the situation at the hunting party, and finally the dream and the plants.

“You’re experiencing the emergence of your magic,” Lana said. “Most witches go through their Emergence much earlier, around five or six years old. It is a developmental process during which they discover their specialty of magic.”

“Five or six?” I said, aghast.

“Theodora and Rowena have suppressed your magic for sixteen years, which is why you are late,” Lana said. “Magic will ebb and change during a witch’s Emergence. Your magic could be completely different at the end of it. All in all, Emergence is an unpredictable process. We usually have some sort of enchanted object to keep the magic under control.”

“How does that work?”

“You channel your powers through that enchanted object. It keeps excess magic inside it, in case it expels outward unexpectedly,” Lana said. She opened the box and thrust it toward me. Inside lay a crystal pendant, deep wine in color, strung on a long leather cord. “Even after their Emergence, witches keep their enchanted object. They develop a bond with it. It becomes a part of them, just like their magic.”

I glanced at it hesitantly. “Is that for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” Lana said sharply.

I gingerly lifted the pendant out of the box and dropped it over my head. It rested comfortably over my chest and hummed.

“Try it. Use your magic.”

I looked at a windowsill and waited for a color to ooze out of it, but nothing happened.

“It’s not working,” I said.

Lana grunted. “Of course not. Come back out here,” she said.

We traversed the hall to the front room. I focused my gaze on a bushel of herbs hanging from the wall. A pale green aura appeared around the leaves. I waited for a word to appear, but none did. Instead, a feeling overtook me and I knew exactly what to say.

“That plant. It’s supposed to slow the effects of any poison,” I said.

“Yes. Nixgrass. It can also be used in incense, to calm the senses when burnt.”

I touched the crystal. “This is amazing.”

“The crystal is merely a crutch. Soon enough you’ll be able to control your magic on your own,” Lana said.

“But what is my magic?”

“Magic is different in every witch, even amongst herbwitches and charmwitches,” Lana said. “I happen to be particularly skilled at potion making. I know exactly what ingredients to use in exact quantities. You seem to understand what certain herbs and potions are through color.”

I nodded. “So. Knowledge is our magic?”

“Indeed. Knowledge is power,” Lana said, “but it can also be enhanced with more knowledge. All things can’t be learned through our abilities. Take these,” She grabbed several thick volumes from the shelves above her and handed them to me. My legs nearly buckled under the weight, and a sharp pain shot through my right knee. I winced. I had forgotten about my injury.

“Are you hurt?” Lana asked.

“I...fell off a horse yesterday,” I said, setting the books on the counter.

Lana pointed to a stool and whisked off to her shelves. I took it as a sign to sit down, somewhat getting used to her behavior. After a few seconds of clinking and shuffling, she came back with a viscous amber substance. It was the potion from her cauldron last time. I hiked my dressing gown over my leg and unwrapped the gauze.

The sight wasn’t pretty. I had forgotten to apply Reselda’s ointment last night. Blotchy purple and green riddled