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Author's Note: Sorry for the massive delay, Real Life got in the way. Real Life in the form of a certain multiplayer addition to a demo I've been playing so I apologize for that. Something happens in this chapter that people have been asking about since the start of this story so I hope that more than makes up for the delay. I'd like to thank djkauf and Indy for the magical editing and everyone for enjoying this universe :)

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SIX:

“You want to do what now?” I asked, staring at Mary like she’d grown a second head

“It’s a simple spell,” she said waving her hand like there was nothing to it.

I knew all about simple spells. Back when Jess was first coming into her powers, she knew some simple spells, too. One of which was this nifty spell to change the color of your hair. She didn’t want to try that spell on herself though---that would be irresponsible and dangerous. So instead, she made me her guinea pig. Of course, she screwed it up. It was almost a given that she was going to screw up, I should have seen it coming. The spell was meant to change my hair from my dirty blonde to a nice rich brown. Instead, it turned my dull blonde hair into a very vibrant purple. Jess laughed forever, Mom didn’t think it was so funny. I learned two very important things about witchcraft that day, the first being never to let my sister try any more spells on me.

The second was a little more serious. Apparently, one witch could not undo the spell of another. So I spent the rest of the day with purple hair. Thankfully, the spell didn’t last more than 24 hours.

To say that I was a little wary of Mary’s spell was an understatement.

“Explain this simple spell to me?”

She groaned. “I thought I already did” She rolled her eyes. “Ok, one more time then. It’s a Glamour spell designed to help people differentiate your true gender.”

Somehow that sounded too good to be true. Like I mentioned before there had to be a catch, there was always a catch. Magic was something not to be trifled with. I’ve seen Mom use it every day but there’s always a consequence. Little things didn’t cause too much of a problem---like making the bed or washing the dishes---but big things relied on more energy. Lots of the time the energy came from the caster. I’d seen it many times before. Mom would overdo it and have to lie down for several hours afterwards.

She always used to say, “You can’t get something for nothing.”

In the case of some magic, it was time, or more specifically lifespan time. The longer the spell, the more time it took. It was an equivalency thing. Most of it was small time, a few seconds here or there but big spells took a lot---sometimes several minutes. The caster might not think that’s much at the time of the spell casting but come the end of their life it was something they couldn’t afford. So Mom only used magic in very small doses---she taught my sister to do the same.

“How big of a spell is this?”

Mary shrugged. “Ten minutes maybe.”

I shook my head. “That’s too much.”

She made a pish sound. “I do spells that take a minute or two all the time. A ten minute one is nothing.”

Witches had a term for someone who over used magic---they called them Burners. Not that Mary was a Burner but she was getting dangerously close to being one. She was starting on a downward slope, burning through all the minutes in her life. If she wasn’t careful, the Council would take notice and she’d be reprimanded for it. There was a three strike system for Burners, it often happened to younger witches like Mary---new to their power. Mom always made sure that Jess never overdid for fear that she might produce a Burner. I can’t imagine my grandmother allowing Mary to go crazy like this though.

Burner or not, the spell was awfully tempting though. Not that I trusted her in the least but it was getting tiring trying to convince everyone I was something that I clearly didn’t appear to be. At least to them anyway. Maybe a spell was the right thing for me, even if it was a simple glamour. I almost told her yes but there were other factors to consider. I didn’t want to get her in trouble. A ten minute spell was advanced, something I knew a Novice like her didn’t have the grasp of. Spells like that were supposed to be supervised and I knew my grandmother would never do anything like that---especially to help me.

I made a quick decision. “I can’t, I’m sorry but the risk is too great.”

She shook her head. “Can you at least give me a minute or two to show you want I’m talking about?”

I shrugged. “Not that it’s going to change anything.”

She ushered me out of the living room and into the kitchen. The door to the basement was in the corner, it was a place I knew all too well but a place I’d never been before. Every time I visited, the basement was off limits to me. When I was younger---and didn’t know the real truth---, I thought it was because I was a boy. I was only half right; the rest of it was because I was a Dud. My grandmother followed this strict tradition that Duds not be allowed any inkling of the witch’s life. It was a tradition that my mother---and a lot of modern day witches didn’t practice. I think it royally pissed my grandmother off when Mom decided to reveal the family secret to me.

Mary reached for a chain around her neck, pulling it out from underneath the shirt she was wearing. There was a key on the end of it. She looked around the room, catching eyes with Nicodemus. The big black cat was lazing on the counter top, staring at us with this half eye opened look.

“Don’t give me that look Nic,” she said, as she stuck the key into the lock. “It’s only for a minute or two.”

The big black cat shifted his gaze from her to me. Unlike Diamond, Nic freaked the hell out of me. He was one of those animals that really lived up to its name. I’m not sure where the name came from but it was dark and it fit the cat well. He always had this sinister way about him, like he had a deep dark secret that only he knew. Whenever I visited, I always went out of my way to avoid him. It was no different this time.

As soon as Mary had the door opened, I quickly followed her.

The stairs to the basement were a lot narrower than I thought. They were at this wicked steep angle too, making walking down them nearly impossible. At least for me. Mary moved like a pro down them, probably years of practice. When we got to the bottom, the darkness lasted for a moment as she flicked a switch. There have only been a few times in my life that I’d really been surprised by things, I could count them all on one hand actually. Now I was going to have to put one on the other. The room before me was nothing like I was expecting, for one thing, it was well furnished. It was also nothing like I was expecting a witch’s lair to look like. I was thinking stone walls, cobwebs, even a cauldron.

Instead, it was carpeted floors, normal walls lined with shelves, no cauldron. There weren’t any cobwebs either, in fact I didn’t see a speck of dust. I was kind of disappointed actually; I was expecting it to the coolest place in the world, not a clone of the living room.

“Not what I was expecting” I said, looking at the cooking books lining the one shelf.

Mary didn’t say anything. Instead, she walked over to one of the bookshelves, slowly browsing the titles. I looked at some of them myself, they didn’t look very appealing. She found her book though, slowly pulling it from the shelf. It only went about halfway followed by a click. A grinding sound filled the room and the bookshelf slowly moved, sliding to the side to reveal a doorway.

“Grams isn’t without her secrets.”

She stepped through this new doorway, I rushed to follow.

There was no transition room; we went from happy place to a not so happy one. I got my stone walls, my musty smell, my strange bottles and jars. It was the lair I was looking for. I looked around, amazed at what I was seeing. My eyes roamed the room, looking at all the little oddities, including a huge table in the corner lined with potted plants, most likely herbs. Mom had a huge herb garden in the backyard. She wasn’t too keen on potion making but it was something she did on occasion. It was cool to have a witch for a mother, especially when she knew a potion that cured just about any ailment.

My eyes continued to roam, drawn to the central point of the room, which was a large leather bound book on a pedestal. I knew that book well, though I’d never actually seen it in person. It was the Crawford family’s Book of Shadows. Every witch family had one; it was an encyclopedia of all their knowledge, all their spells, recipes and incantations. I’d always wondered what it looked like and was sadly unimpressed. I looked past the book, until my eyes fell across a large wooden chest in the other corner, all by itself. I took a step toward it when Mary put her arm across my chest.

“You don’t want to go poking in there,” she said sternly.

“What is it?”

“Don’t know, don’t care” She said and added quickly. “I just know to stay away from it.”

Sure, let a guy see a forbidden chest and then tell him it’s forbidden.

“We don’t have much time,” she said, walking over to the Book.

“Planning to turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

She didn’t laugh. “No but if Grams catches us down here we might end up as pumpkins.”

That was a scary thought. “Where is she anyway?”

Mary shrugged. “She and some of the old ladies go out some nights, play cards, read palms or whatever. They never invite me so I don’t really care what they do.”

I thought I heard a bit of resentment in her voice actually.

Mary unlocked the latch that held the book shut, pulling the huge, heavy cover open. I half expected a cloud of dust to rise but there wasn’t. I leaned forward to take a closer look but was disappointed by what I saw. There was a blank page staring back up at me. Mary didn’t seem to be phased by it though. She flipped the page and then flipped another. Soon she was going through it like any other book. All I saw was one blank page after another. What the hell was going on? Was there some kind of enchantment on the book or was it something else? Did it have something to do with magic and because I was a Dud…that kind of sucked.

“Here it is,” she announced a few minutes later. “The Spell of Becoming, oh look there’s a potion too.”

I looked at her oddly. “You mean to tell me you can see something on those pages?”

She nodded. “Can’t you?”

I groaned. Definitely a Dud thing.

“So what else does it say?”

“I can’t tell you that but just know that it’s a simple spell and the potion is easy to make. I can whip it up in a couple of hours.” She pulled a little leather bound book from her back pocket, quickly scribbling down the invisible words.

When she was done, she closed the book, locking it tightly.

“I got it,” she said proudly. “Now let’s get out of here and bribe the cat.”

I laughed. “You think he’s going to rat us out?”

“Most definitely” she said, as she led the way back through the “door” in the wall.

She quickly closed it back up. The room was back to normal. We didn’t waste any time down there, heading back up the stairs. It was just as steep going up as it was down. In the kitchen, Diamond had joined Nicodemus. The two of them stared at us, their eyes shifting between Mary and me. It was kind of creepy.

Mary and I left the kitchen, Diamond followed close behind.

“So what do you think?” she asked, waving the book in front of my nose. “Do you want to unlock your true potential?”

She laughed when she said it. That was about as reassuring as an F on a Math assignment.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“You sure?” she asked, not sounding surprised in the least. “This spell could make you the man you were meant to be.”

It was tempting, far too tempting. But I knew all about spells and I knew when to avoid them. I didn’t want to get pulled into something like that again.

“I’m sure,” I said with confidence.

She shrugged. “You know where to find me if you change your mind”.

She went back to the couch, dropping onto it. Me, I went upstairs with my backpack. I had a ton of homework to do and I wanted to get it done before I fell asleep. It was cruel to give a kid homework on his first day but after the day but it seemed to fit the rest of the day. I trudged up the stairs, into my room and flopped onto the bed.

The buzzing of the alarm woke me. I rolled out of bed, nearly crushing the big gray cat who was slumbering next to me. Why was it that Diamond saw fit to sleep with me of all people? There’s that old saying that animals knew that you hated them so they clung to you on purpose. That was definitely the case with him. I pushed him to my feet so I could swing around and roll out of bed. I was in one of those morning funks as I trudged out of the room and down the hall. I peed, washed my hands and didn’t truly wake up until the water from the shower was falling over me. As soon as that happened, it was like flicking a switch.

I stayed in the shower long enough to wash my hair and body. I used shampoo and conditioner on my hair. It might have been one of the reasons everyone mistook me for a girl because it was so silky smooth but I didn’t care. Just using shampoo felt wrong somehow. The same thing could be said for my body, I hated the feeling of soap so I used a body wash. It made my skin nice and soft---probably another one of my deceptions. As I washed, I couldn’t help but think about the Becoming spell. Not that I wanted her to do it but it did tempt me all night.

The spell could make me look like a guy. I’d finally go through puberty, grow some facial hair, muscles. I might even get a little taller. At the same time, it wouldn’t be real. Glamours were tricky things. They weren’t meant to be permanent things. A lot of younger witches used them, girls like Mary. They changed their hair, eyes, did their makeup. They were simple things, quick spells. The idea of using a Glamour as a long-term spell was nuts. It was even more nuts when I couldn’t sustain it myself. Glamours were personal things, meant for the caster. Mary was just crazy enough to suggest using one on someone else.

I got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and quickly made it back to my room. I ended up wearing a very similar pair of jeans and shirt just like yesterday’s. I topped the look off with my hoodie. Wearing my hoodie didn’t help matters but that school was so cold how could I not. I don’t think I was ever going to get used to the change in temperature here. Back home it barely went down to fifty in the winter but here it was lucky to get above it and it was only November. Winter didn’t officially start until the end of December, I’m not sure how long I was going to be here but I don’t think I’ll be able to last all this cold.

I made my way downstairs after that.

In the kitchen, I was surprised to see Mary already at the table. She was eating a bowl of cereal and smiled when I entered. “There’s some Fruit Loops in the cupboard.”

I wasn’t a cereal person usually but I doubted my grandmother would ever make me bacon and eggs. So I resorted to getting the box, a bowl and some milk. As I was pouring the last of the milk into the bowl, my grandmother came into the room. She was definitely a morning person, as was evident by her lack of tiredness. She didn’t say a word as she walked past me and poured herself a cup of coffee. I sat at the table first.

She didn’t insult me until she sat down. “You’re wearing that ratty sweatshirt again.”

We had a difference of an opinion on the hoodie yesterday morning. It was a little worn because I wore it all the time. It was comfortable so I saw no reason to keep on wearing it. My grandmother thought it was disgusting and told me she didn’t want to see it on me again. I wasn’t about to cave just because she didn’t like something.

“I like it” I said, spooning some loops into my mouth.

“I don’t,” she said coldly before taking a sip of her coffee. “Go upstairs and take it off.”

I didn’t skip a beat when I responded with a very stern “No.”

The look of surprise on both of their faces was priceless. She can bad mouth me all she wants, she can glare at me and ignore me too but there’s no way I’m going to let her tell me what to wear. It was my body and there was no way she was going to dictate the terms of it. She could do or say whatever she wanted; there was no way I was getting rid of my hoodie.

Silence fell over the room. My grandmother narrowed her eyes at me, giving me this evil glare. I continued to eat my Fruit Loops. The silence lasted several minutes before Mary finally decided to break it.

“I got you a bike to use so you don’t have to walk.”

That surprised me. “You serious?”

She nodded. “My friend Tracy. She has more than one, she said you could use one while you’re here.”

I couldn’t help but groan. One way to make people still think I was a girl was to ride a girl’s bike. Maybe I should have taken her up on her offer last night.
Breakfast was a quiet affair after that. Our grandmother left earlier, not saying a word. A few minutes later, Mary and I were out the door. I was surprised to find that the bike in question was a boy’s bike. I was also surprised at how nice it was.

“Who’s Tracy?” I asked as we started heading toward school.

“Trevor’s sister.”

That surprised me. “I didn’t know he had a sister.”

“Neither did he.”

I asked about Trevor. Apparently, he was living in Florida now with relatives. He got real sick a few months ago and the doctor decided a change in climate might help him. It was around that time that his unknown twin sister showed up out of the blue. It was a bit strange---like one of those damn soap operas my mother sometimes watched. It kind of sucked too. I was really looking forward to continuing my comic book debate with him. We started it a few years ago and occasionally Skyped back and forth about it. Lately though he hasn’t been on and now I know why.

We got to school with plenty of time left. We met up with the blonde from lunch yesterday and Greg.

“Hey guys, this is Kelly,” said Mary, sticking her thumb at me.

“I know,” said Greg with a nod.

The blonde looked like she was going to say something but stopped herself. Instead, she said. “Hi I’m Tracy.”

I shook her hand. Now that I looked at her up close, you could definitely see where she looked just like Trevor. It was kind of freaky actually.

“Hey you been reading the new 52?” asked Greg.

“Oh yeah” I said. “I’ve also got this new one, limited series…a female…”

Mary interrupted. “He doesn’t care.”

“Yes I do,” said Greg.

“Well I don’t” said Mary, pushing Greg away from me.

Just like that, Mary was gone, trying desperately to get Greg away. Tracy gave me an apologetic smile before she slowly followed after them. I was left standing there a little dumbfounded. I started to follow a second or two later. I was halfway to the steps when I heard some noise off to my left. I turned to catch a circle of football players harassing someone. I was going to ignore it---those guys were way bigger than me---when I saw the person was none other than Misty. That pissed me off. Before I knew what I was doing, I was on my way over.

“Leave her alone guys” I said, pushing my way through the wall of bodies.

Misty was a bit surprised. Hell, I was a bit surprised.

One of the guys laughed. “Is the school slut going dyke on us?”

“Maybe she is,” I said, walking over to her and slipping my arm around Misty’s waist.

I’m not sure where that came from---my burst of confidence but I was glad. Misty tensed up a little when I touched her though. The four jocks were a bit stunned. I think the correct term is stunned speechless. They stood and stared, not sure what to say. Misty and I didn’t stick around long enough for them to say anything. I shoved past the nearest one, my arm still around her waist. We stayed like that until we got into the building. As soon as the coast was clear, she quickly slipped away.

“Thanks” she said with a smile. “But you shouldn’t have done that. I know those guys, that little incident is only going to make things worse.”

I shrugged. “It’s not like I haven’t had worse.”

Apparently not only was I girl to everyone but I was a butch girl. Well actually, I was considered tomboyish. I was pretty enough to get hit on but not girly enough to date. So being called a dyke was nothing new. Trying to tell people I was actually a guy just confused them even more. So gay, straight or in-between it didn’t really matter.

At my locker, Maggie was waiting. She looked different today, her hair was parted and she was smiling.

“Mr. McC asked me to tell you that he’s straightened everything out with Mr. Douglas, your Gym teacher.”

She went with me to my first class then we parted ways.

Class today wasn’t much different than yesterday. Everyone---including the teachers---thought I was girl. I went through first, second and third periods without thinking too much about it. In fourth period, the teacher gave me a strange look. I think she was really trying to make up her mind. In the end, she just called me Kelly. I guess it was one step in the right direction. Fifth period was lunch where I sat with Maggie and Misty again. The two of them were in the middle of a conversation when I finally showed. It was kind of weird actually, but nice. Who would have thought the school’s reputed slut and the quiet girl would have anything in common.

Throughout Lunch, Mary was casting nasty glances over at our table. Finally sixth period came, the dreaded Gym class. It was strange to have Gym two days in a row but apparently, they were trying something different here. For the first part of the year we had Gym everyday and the second part of the year it would be Health. It seemed like a bit much but I suppose it got the job done. When I got the gymnasium, Mr. Douglas pulled me aside and apologized for yesterday.

“You’re a little girly but don’t worry Daniels, I’ll whip you into shape soon enough.”

He smacked me on the back, which hurt like a bitch.

I fell into line after that with the other guys as we made our way to the locker room. My locker was in the far corner. I was a little conscientious about my body because I was frail and bony. The other guys all had muscles and body hair----things that I was definitely lacking. I hated Gym class because of that and because of the fact that I’d been forced to show it off. Normal gym clothes consisted of an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts---both of which I didn’t like to wear. Well the shorts anyway. Even back home, I never wore shorts to school. I had girly legs and definitely didn’t look drawing attention to them.

I dressed in a hurry. As I walked around the corner, I came face to face with those very same jocks from earlier today. They were laughing about something but when they saw me, they all froze. I’m not sure what they thought. We stared back and forth, for what seemed like an eternity. I was waiting for one of them to make their move. They were like the stupid guys who used to hit on me and then later find out I was in fact a guy. It was usually a lot of nasty looks and name calling---fag mostly---but there were a few who took it one step further. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were going to be the latter. Name calling I could deal with, getting my ass kicked was something I definitely could not.

“Dude” said one of them. I held my breath. “What’s a chick doing in here?”

And they were the dumbest morons on the face of the planet.

I didn’t wait to respond. Instead, I pushed past them. In the gymnasium, I tried to stay in the back of the group. Mr. Douglas was in front, telling us what we were in store for today. It was basketball, one of my least favorite things to do. Back home, if you didn’t even know a bit of B-Ball you were considered a total outcast. That was me, the outcast. I used to get owned every single time we played in Gym. It was pretty pathetic, especially when some overzealous ass slammed me to the court. The teacher never saw any of that either.

Mr. Douglas split us up into four teams, two per net. As luck would have it, three of the four jocks were on the opposite team of mine.

Just like I anticipated, I got manhandled. I couldn’t shoot, I couldn’t pass and I couldn’t dribble the ball to save my life. I tried though. Back at my old school, you at least got credit if you looked like you were trying. So that’s what I did. I attempted to fake my way through basketball. I was doing pretty good at it too just as long as the ball didn’t go my way. If that happened the best I could do was try to catch it and throw it to someone else as quick as possible.
Faking my way through it must have been tiring because after a few minutes of “playing”, I was starting to sweat. It was strange because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sweated in Gym. I tried not to think about it but a few minutes later the sweating was followed by this dull ache in my stomach. The ache started to get worse the more I moved. Soon all I could do was stand still to keep it from sending my stomach into cartwheels.

A whistle blew, startling all of us. Mr. Douglas was on the other side of the Gym but was approaching fast. It didn’t take long for me to realize he was coming my way.

“Something wrong Daniels?”

“Not sure sir” I said, wincing when I spoke.

“You look really pale; you need to go to the nurse?”

I shook my head. “Maybe the bathroom, I feel kind of sick.”

“Go then.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. I was happy to get out of that mess. I went through the nearest door, trying my hardest to walk slowly down the hall. If I walked any faster, the pain got worse. I made small steps, holding my stomach as I did so. Thankfully, there was a bathroom nearby. I pushed my way inside and just made it into a stall before I threw up. You know how throwing up is supposed to make you feel better; well it didn’t work in this case. I threw up three more times and only felt worse. After the fourth time, nothing else would come up. I flushed and slowly got to my feet. A wave of dizziness over took me and I stumbled. I nearly fell on my face as I made my way toward the sink.

Grabbing the counter was the only thing that kept me up.

When I pulled myself back up, I knew something was off. First, it was my hair; it was tumbled around my face. I gasped at the sight of it and the length; it was way past my shoulders. The second thing I noticed were my hands---they were smaller than before. The third thing was the most shocking. I was looking into the mirror now and staring back at me was not my face, it was that of a very pretty teenage girl.

A second wave of dizziness overtook me and this time I dropped to the floor, blacking out before I hit it.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF