The Skinwalker's Apprentice by Claribel Ortega Read Free Book Online

Margo’s cloth shoes ‘unacceptable’, and had a pair of boots made especially for her.
    “Very well,” said The Priestess, holding her chain up so that her small broom was level with her thin lips.
    “ Incresco ,” whispered the witch, and the broom grew, the wood stretching out to a normal size. The Priestess looked at Margo and nodded, it was her turn.
    Margo took a deep breath as she pulled the chain from within her shirt and brought the tiny broom up to her face. It looked like just big enough to be a mouse’s broom. Margo closed her eyes and whispered, “ Incresco ,” as she’d seen The Priestess do. Her mind raced as she waited a few seconds before opening her eyes. She hoped she’d done it right, and she’d also hoped she’d done it wrong. Margo was dreadfully afraid of heights, and the thought of flying on a flimsy broom made her stomach turn. When she opened her eyes, the broom was unchanged.
    “It takes more than words to make something transform,” said The Priestess, “you must envision it, you must see the broom growing in your hands as you speak, and you must clear your mind of all else.”
    She looked at Margo knowingly, as if she could hear her worried thoughts aloud. Margo looked at the small broom once again, and this time, when she closed her eyes, she tried her hardest not to think of anything but the spell.
    She pictured the broom growing, and her holding it in her hand a moment later. Margo whispered, “ Incresco ,” once again, and this time when she opened her eyes, she saw she’d been successful.
    “Splendid, Margo!” exclaimed The Priestess, as she took her broom, which was still attached to the chain around her neck, and threw it between her legs.
    “Now comes the most enjoyable part,” she smirked, as she began to rise into the air, stopping when she was level with the tops of the trees. Margo breathed out hard, and trying not to think of how frightened she was, straddled the broom and immediately began to ascend into the night sky. Margo’s skirts fluttered in the wind, and her hair whipped around her. Her hands were clammy as she held on to the wooden stick, her heart raced like a team of horses.
    The Priestess yelled, “STOP,” just as Margo reached her, and the younger witch was stationary.
    “How do I control it?” asked Margo breathlessly, trying not to let on how scared she was.
    “First you must control your own fear,” said The Priestess. “Clear your mind, and steer the broom with your hands like this,” instructed The Priestess, demonstrating by directing the tip of her broom to the left, and then to the right. She weaved easily to either side, her hands wrapped tightly around the stick, and then pulled next to Margo again.
    “To speed up, you lean your body closer to the broom, like this.” The Priestess pressed her body close to her broom and zoomed away from Margo, circling her twice in the blink of an eye. Margo struggled to keep her balance as she watched The Priestess maneuver in the night sky.
    “To slow down, you simply straighten your body upright.” The Priestess demonstrated by doing just that, and she slowed down, stopping when she was on Margo’s right.
    “Priestess, I must confess something,” said Margo nervously, “I am terribly frightened.”
    The Priestess nodded, looking out towards the water before them, as if she was deep in thought.
    “Margo, if you are to grow, and learn as a witch, you must not let fear hold you back. Fear will hold you prisoner; it will keep you from being who you’re truly meant to be. We must all face our fears, Margo. If we do not face them, we are allowing ourselves to be defeated by them. I would not have chosen you for this apprenticeship, if I didn’t think you were capable of completing it. I am by your side, I will be with you the entire time.” The Priestess smiled kindly, and Margo’s eyes, which were threatening to spill over a moment before, were now focused and clear. She had found