By Julie

Muttering came from the dining room. Then- “Luna!” Basil called, “Come out for breakfast! Aren’t you still hungry?” Luna scuttled out. “How do you know my…” Luna started to say, but when she caught glance of the witches and warlock, her voice trailed off. There was Basil, the shortest of them and of only about eight or nine years of age. Peg circled around her feet. Eve was probably the next-youngest, at about thirty-five. Gem, who was somewhat plump, was nestled on the ground next to her. The next witch was older, with curly red-brown hair, a rather short figure, and a skinny little shadow cat. Her robe was trimmed with tinges of yellow, and she looked around forty-five or fifty. Then the warlock, Midnight, with darker hair but almost the same face and age as the last witch. Luna assumed they were siblings. His robe was trimmed with dark blue, and his shadow cat had a rather squashed face, like it had run into a brick wall. The last two witches scared Luna- she assumed they were Misty and Mallory. The first was tall, very tall, with eagle eyes, grey hair tied back in a bun, and a grey-trimmed robe. Her shadow cat was thin and long, like its owner. The second witch was short and a bit plump, with grumpy features and a hawk nose. Luna assumed both witches to be around sixty, seventy, or maybe eighty. If Eve’s shadow cat was plump, Mallory’s was definitely fat, because it was many, many times plumper than Gem and looked like a big tomato.
“Luna, this is Eve and Gem. You already know them. This is Midnight and Dip, or Dipper. This is Dawn,” Basil pointed to the curly-haired witch, “And Little Dip, or Little Dipper. This next one is Misty (and Orion), and this is Mallory and Cass, or Cassiopeia. All right, what’s for breakfast?”
“Omelets,” Misty said stonily, “With spices.”
“O Great Spirits, let me tell
“And cast a yummy breakfast spell,
“Fix us up some yummy food,
“Omelets and spices, don’t be crude!”
The plates fixed themselves and all the witches set down to dine. Eve conjured up some milk for the shadow cats. In a few minutes, plates refilled themselves and eating utensils clinked. “Um… what’re we doing today?” Basil asked, helping herself to another omelet. Luna ate too, even though she had suspected to be too suspicious of the witches to eat. “I’ve learned there might be a flood in one of the Americas today, we could go help out.” Misty said. “Coven Paris will get there first,” Dawn assured the rest of the witches, “Anything smaller?” Midnight cleared his throat. “Leaky faucets and such,” he announced, “In London.” Dawn nodded. “Ah, yes. Mulberry will go fix the leaky faucets. We might even be able to fix them from here.” Mallory yawned and grunted, “I’ll do it right now.” Basil looked hurt. “No! Don’t do it from here, let’s fly down to London and-”
“O Earth’s great spirits, let me tell
“And cast a very helpful spell:
“Not enough for a bath, not even a sip,
“Hurry to London and stop this drip!”
Luna and Eve sat, defeated. “The magic of being a witch is gone from it again,” Basil said under her breath. “Anything else we could do today? And maybe actually get there to do? And maybe some of us could help?” MIsty threw Basil an icy glance. “Well, there’s a bit of a famine down in-” Dawn started. “Famine? Coven Austin will get there first.” Basil said, as if reading off lines from a play. “There’s a few wounded polar bears somewhere in the Arctic… we could help with that.” Eve said, in a bit of a monotone. Luna had expected being a witch to be more exciting. “Oh, can we fly? Please?” Basil begged, but Misty silenced her and recited,
“O Earth’s great spirits, let me tell
“And cast a nature-friendly spell:
“If you can, then please repair
“Each sick or wounded polar bear.”
“All right,” Misty said, gathering herself up. “Anything else? No? Now let’s get down to business. Basil, what do you think you were going to do with that girl when you brought her here?” Basil’s eyes finally lit up. “I have a plan for her! It’s a very brilliant plan!” Misty nodded her on. “You see,” she said, standing up, “Just because we aren’t a proper coven, since Ewe vanished, all of the other covens leave us all the boring jobs like fixing faucets! You don’t need much power for that, not even enough power to be on the scene. So we never have anything exciting to do, and the covens treat us with no respect!” The witches nodded politely to confirm this fact. “So,” Basil continued, “What if we miraculously gained another member and became a coven? Then we might actually get some real jobs and some respect! So I nominate this new witchy addition to our coven to be… Luna!”

It is a fair summer’s day with my best friend, climbing our favorite tree in the orchard of the field behind my house. Sunscreen was slathered on our arms, legs, and faces by my mom, fearful of us coming back with our fair skin lobster-red, and two Boston and Nebraska baseball caps are pulled down over our heads. There isn’t a worry in the world, some bird I recognize as a meadowlark sings to us.
Suddenly, pain shoots through my hand. “Ow! Marcus! You’re stepping on me!” Warm sun shines down on my back as I try to pull myself free. Marcus lifts his foot up only to grab my arm as I tip out of the tree. “Ah!” Adrenaline is still pounding through my body as my best friend reels me in to safety. “Whoa,” I say, “I owe you one, pal. You probably just saved me from a sprained ankle!” Marcus looks at me quizzically. “Really? Looked more like a broken leg to me!” We high-five and I clutch the tree trunk to stand myself up. I inch higher up the tree like a bear cub hugging the trunk, then take a seat on the highest branch I think will hold me. “Case,” Marcus calls up. “That’s too high. That branch isn’t going to hold you!” He is perched safely on the branch just out of reach from my left foot. “Worrywart. I’m fine up here!” But suddenly the branch shifts, as though the tree is alive, and knocks me around, forcing me to flail my feet around to keep balance. I accidentally smack Marcus right on his freckled, sun-browned nose. “Hey!” he shouts, rubbing his nose. “Whoa, sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t break your nose, did I?” I slip down onto his branch to try to comfort him, and suddenly a hard, round crab-apple hits me right on the back of the neck. “Ow!” I turn around to find Marcus grinning slightly (but still clutching his precious nose) under his Huskers baseball cap. I automatically pluck a small fruit from the branches of the tree and fling it at Marcus. Another apple hits me on the back of my ankle, and I watch another one bounce off the top of Marcus’s head. “Casey! I am going to get you!” Dodging unpleasantly solid crab-apples, I shimmy down the tree and my feet touch ground as I spring down from a branch like Spider man. Whoa, I thought, That was easily a five-and-a-half foot drop! I stand in awe at my stunt for a moment, but the joy is gone when a round shape strikes me right between the eyes. I slip behind another tree for a fort and let another three or four apples fly up into the branches of the other tree. A rather loud grunt lets me know that the fruits hit their target. I jump to avoid a low shot hurled at me by my opponent and bonk my head on a low branch. Marcus doesn’t stop then, he touches down to the ground and we prance around the yard, trying to avoid crab-apples while lobbing them at each other. I find a sizable apple and launch it at Marcus, a perfect shot landed on the cheek, only to find it rotten. Oops. Bitter crab-apple mush drips down his face, the skin slides off his chin. He stands in shock and spits a piece of the bruised fruit out of his mouth. Yuck. Well, at least it didn’t happen to me. The realization of the event settles in and Marcus, of course, will not let me get away with this. He wipes the yuck off of his face and sprints at me with an armful of unripe green spheres. Bonk! Thump! Ouch! Fruits pummel me from behind as I sprint off over the hill into the summer sun with Marcus chasing me. He gallops after me, throwing apple after apple for what seems like hours, until we’re both finally worn out enough to try to approach each other. His emerald-green nylon jersey glints in the summer sun, red hat barely holding sweaty hair out of his eyes. Our hair is all mussed, a stripe of dirt is brushed across Marcus’s tan cheek, my brown-blond hair is damp with sweat as well as his. “Truce?” I ask, as he moves into earshot. He nods, exhausted, and we get close enough to declare peace. I hold out my hand to him and he takes it. I realize only after he’s grabbed my hand the sneaky grin snaking across his face. He empties a glob of rotten crab-apple glop into my hand and trots off up the hill. I stand to catch my breath, fling the handful of goo to the ground, and sprint off after Marcus, pelting him with crab-apples.

My clarinet teacher’s comments washed over me. More staccato there, A flat there, play it with a metronome, measure 27 has a dotted half note, hike up the tempo. Could I get the piece right for once? Teachers always had something to say. Well, I’d better bike home fast. Angry gray clouds ballooned from nothing in the lofty sky. Mom might have dinner ready when I got home. Maybe Toby would be hungry. The dear little hamster had been alone for an hour! He wasn’t used to that, no, since I was home-schooled. He would cope better with me being away if I just went to the local public school. I might actually make some friends that way, too.
I marched down the hallway of the music studio, wondering why it was two floors. I stopped to wait in front of the elevator. A girl with thin, blonde hair that was almost white stood in front of the door. She was slim and rather short, I found myself towering over her. My red hair suddenly seemed much too long and I was suddenly a bit bashful about the freckles sprinkled messily over my face, which I wished was neater. I wished there wasn’t a big pizza sauce stain in the middle of my t-shirt. I get nervous around kids my age sometimes, and she was no exception. Ding! The elevator pulled up. An excited kid of about five or six dragged her mother out of the elevator and across the hall to the violin studio. I was unsure for a second if I should let the girl into the elevator first or head in at the same time. Then I wasn’t sure if I should wait for the door to close or to close it with the button. Then I wasn’t sure whether to talk to her or not. I was just deciding not to when the elevator came to an abrupt stop. I wobbled over and crashed into the railing. “Whoa!” the other girl said, crashing to the floor. My nervousness about the girl gone (but about the elevator, it was buzzing), I helped her up. “I think it stopped in between floors,” the girl said, jumping on the floor to test the stability. I punched the FLOOR 1 button again. “Button’s not working,” I remarked. “We’re trapped.” In response, the girl pressed the button repeatedly, as though it would suddenly work, and jumped on the floor again. The big sign with red letters stated 2… but it quickly flashed to blank. “What do we do?” I asked, sounding hopeless. “I’ve never exactly been trapped in a broken elevator before.” The girl grinned slightly. “Me neither. Is this what that red button with the bell on it is for? Is this a real emergency?” I thought it over. “Hm… that’ll probably make sirens go off, and possibly sprinklers. What if the elevator works after a minute and we’ve got everyone in a panic? Or what if it’s just a power outage or something?” I considered. “If it was a power outage, the lights wouldn’t be on,” the girl corrected. “Should we try yelling?” I thought, then nodded. There wasn’t anything else to do. “HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME!? IS THERE ANYONE DOWN THERE OR UP THERE!?” and “HELP! WE’RE TRAPPED IN HERE BETWEEN FLOORS!” we yelled. “I really wish I’d taken the stairs,” the light-haired girl said. “HELP!” I bellowed one last time before sinking to the elevator floor in defeat. This time, a voice called back. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?” from the top floor. “YES!” the girl and I shrieked. “THE ELEVATOR BROKE AND WE’RE STUCK IN BETWEEN FLOORS!” The voice was quiet. “I’M GOING TO GET HELP!” It finally yelled, and I assumed he took the stairs down to the first floor. Well, he kind of had to since the elevator was broken.
“Um, hello.” the girl said. My awkwardness returned. “Um, hello. I’m Ashling. I’m eleven,” I told the girl. “Cool name. I’m Winterlynn, but most people call me Winter. I’m eleven too.” Huh, that was kind of funny. I met a girl called Winter- in February, even. “What do you play?” she asked. What do I… oh, yeah. We were in the music building. “Clarinet.” I answered. “You?” I asked, even though I could tell from the long, slender case. “Flute,” she answered. “My teacher’s Mr. Romerez. He’s okay. Well, he’s nice. What school do you go to?” Oh, I hated this question. “Home-schooled.” I said, somewhat downcast. “Ah. I go to Bennet Middle.” I smiled, Bennet was near us. “Where do you live?” I asked. “My family just moved in to a house on Springlind Street. You know where that is?” I nodded excitedly. “Yep, I live on the street it intersects with! Maybe we’ll be friends.” The comment flew out of my mouth. Had I just asked someone to be my friend? I didn’t know… was that rude? Winter acted like it was no big deal- she smiled, even.
Next thing we knew, people were connecting fuses and meddling with wires around the elevator, and then our fun was over when it started up and whirred down to the first floor. I picked up my clarinet case, and Winter slung her pink and blue backpack over her shoulders. We left the broken elevator. I was just beginning to enjoy myself, too. “All right. It was nice meeting you! I guess I’ll see you around,” I waved. “Hey- I have a scooter. Want to walk home?” Winter asked eagerly. “Ooh, I’ve got a bike. Sure! By the way, do you have any pets? I have a hamster- his name’s Toby.” Winter giggled. “I’ve got three rats- Shadow, Henrietta, and Sprinkles. They’re sweet little things, even though most people don’t like rats.”
Before we knew it, our fun was over again when we passed my house. “Oh, that house is mine. I’d best be going.” Winter pouted, then flashed me a wide grin. “I like your garden gnomes, especially the one with the mushroom. All right… bye!” Winter scootered away, and I stepped inside. “Hey, you’re really late, honey! I was getting really worried about you! And who was that?”
“That’s Winter, she lives down Springlind. And I’m late because we got trapped in an elevator together. It broke between floors. Yes, I’m all right. Is dinner ready?”
I left Mom standing in the kitchen as I ran down to my room to feed Leo. I could just see the corner of the house that Winter had described as hers, out my window. I could just see a window and a door. I was a little let down that the door and window was all I could see, but then a familiar face came up to the window! She even waved!
I hurried down for my own late dinner thinking, what a lucky day!

When Luna woke, her dress was dry. She was still hungry, though. She opened her eyes to the unpleasant surprise of an unfamiliar room. In fact, she was lying on an unfamiliar couch, her head resting on an unfamiliar pillow, and an unfamiliar young face was peering at her. The face had a rather pointy (but of regular length) nose, curious blue eyes, a slim figure, and blonde hair that curled at the ends. It was the small witch’s face.
Luna yelped in surprise, finding her voice box had been unfrozen, and jumped off of the couch. “Witches!” she shrieked. “Sh! Keep it down! If you’re too loud then Misty will do away with you!” the young witch whispered. “Misty!” Luna whispered, frightened. “Who is Misty?”
“The sternest one of us. The one who tried to cast the memory spell on you. I’m Basil,” the girl offered. “There’s also Mallory and Eve and Midnight and Dawn.” Luna scoffed and yelled, “I don’t care about the members of your frightful witch coven!” The girl’s eyes widened. “Well, I can do spells too, you know. I know a very effective silencing spell. And we’re not at all frightful, nor all of us witches, or a coven. You see, we’re rather quiet and would never hurt anybody. Midnight happens to be a warlock. And you need seven members to be a coven, while we only have six since Ewe vanished. That was years ago. So we aren’t Coven Mulberry anymore.”
“Coven Mulberry? As in, the city Mulberry?” Luna asked in a loud, frightened voice. “Well, yes. We’re on the outskirts of the city.” Mulberry was only a few miles from the orphanage. She might be able to escape and run back home. “Don’t think about running,” Basil warned her. “Misty and Mallory will come after you with a memory charm, and trust me, those don’t feel good. Witches fly four times faster than you can run, you know. You must be hungry…”
“O Earth’s great spirits, let me tell
“And cast a finger-licking spell:
“Give this hungry girl some food,
“For whatever she is in the mood.”
It only took seconds for a lacy napkin to fly off the mantle, unfold itself in the lap of Luna, and suddenly hold a lapful of the most wonderful foods Luna could ever imagine: fried chicken, buttered string beans, a can of peaches, and a generous slice of blueberry pie. In minutes, it was gone. It seemed as soon as Luna took her last bite, footsteps sounded down the stairs. “Sounds like Mallory,” Basil whispered with a frightened look on her face. “If she finds you in her favorite spot… up in the kitchen, take your napkin and scrub the counters!” On her way out of the living room, Luna stumbled over… air? She glanced back and patted the air to find a solid nothing. It hissed at her. “Ah! It’s an monster, and it’s an invisible one too!” Luna whispered as the footsteps grew louder. “No, silly, that’s Peg, my shadow cat. Look closer. Now, scoot! She’s almost down!” Luna scrambled up and over to the kitchen. It smelled strongly of onions and garlic and different herbs, because they were in strings hanging from the ceiling. It was just like an ordinary kitchen in an ordinary house, Luna observed as she wiped down the counters. Into the living room came a thirty or forty year old witch with bright red hair and black eyes, wearing a black robe trimmed with dusky purple. Luna glanced at Basil to find hers was trimmed with green. She looked back at the older witch. Was this Mallory? She actually looked pretty okay… for a witch, anyway. With a startled glance, Luna spotted the outline of a shady gray cat, almost as if made from smoke, trotting along after the witch. A shadow cat? Luna peeked closer at the carpet in the living room to find another smoky cat shape. So that was Peg, Basil’s cat. Did all witches own these creatures?
“You can come out now! It’s not Mallory, just Eve!” Luna tiptoed back into the living room. “This is Eve, my mother, and her shadow cat Gem. I’m sorry I forgot to introduce before, but this is my own shadow cat Peg. Gem is short for Gemini, by the way, and Peg is short for Pegasus. You know, I think it’s time for breakfast.” At that, three other witches and a warlock seemed to float down the stairs. Luna let out a yelp and ran back into the kitchen. Being in a house with five witches, a warlock, and six shadow cats was too much for one day.

Luna was exhausted, hungry, and wet. Water dripped from the ends of her brownish-blonde hair, her nose, her glasses and the hem of her dress. Her feet slid on the slippery cobblestone street. The grocery bag full of empty bottles felt heavier than ever as the rain pounded upon her. Luna wanted to duck into a building- any store, any home, any shelter she could find- and stay there. But she had drawn the shortest straw at the orphanage, so her job was to take the empty bottles down to the recycling center. Normally this was all right, even pleasant, but not in the rain.
The streets were mostly quiet, everyone was inside accept for just a few people under black umbrellas who eventually scuttled away. Am I the only one alive at this hour? Has everyone vanished except me? Luna was so absorbed in this exciting thought that she at first didn’t notice the six dark, shadowy shapes flying above her. Birds, Luna thought. How queer. She did not at first notice the brewing, stirring, whirlpool of clouds above these creatures as they flew through the rain. Nor did she notice the flapping of robes or the strange circular formation they flew in. She did not notice either of these attributes until the cloud of creatures was almost gone, and then she let out a gasp and dropped her sack of bottles. She could hear one shatter, but she did not care because who would care about a broken bottle when a coven of witches were soaring above you?
At this very thought, the witches suddenly halted, turned their brooms around, and zoomed back toward the street. Luna wanted to run like mad into the restaurant beside her, but her joints had frozen to ice and she couldn’t move as the coven grew closer and closer to the small girl. Their faces were always in shadow, but their unmistakeable cloaks and pointed hats grew closer and closer on their brooms until Luna was practically face to face with them. She wanted to scream, but her voice box had frozen along with her joints, so all she could do was stare and gape at the mythical beings. Luna opened and closed her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Unfortunately, sound came out of the mouth of one of the biggest witches:
“O Earth’s great spirits, let me tell
“And cast upon this girl a spell:
“You won’t remember, you will find
“This moment cleared from your wee-”
“Sh! No, Misty, don’t you-”
Luna opened her eyes. She had been bracing herself for whatever wicked spell this deep-voiced creature was about to cast on her, but one of the witches, the smallest one, had cut off the curse. Luna watched silently in disbelief as the small witch heaved Luna onto her broom, and then fell promptly into a faint.