The New Assistant 

“Rotten brat!” Stephan screamed. “Get back here and build the fire!”

A young fireboy darted into the hallway from Stephan’s office, eyes wide. He sprinted past Mildred, dropping an armful of logs in his haste. She gazed down at the strewn pieces of wood with a sigh.

“Wonderful,” she muttered, collecting the firewood back together with an incantation. Telling Stephan she was his new Assistant would be downright dangerous.

“Where’s my firewood?”

Mildred stepped into the doorway to find Stephan standing in the middle of his office. His shock-white hair stood up on end, and loose skin hung off his neck like a waddle. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, his jacket off, and shirt askew. A watch that clearly didn’t work dangled from a chain out of an inner pocket.

“If you weren’t such a terror, they wouldn’t be afraid of you,” Mildred said, sending the logs to the fireplace with a spell. Stephan regarded her with deep suspicion.

“You’re that ornery librarian that won’t work. I’m still going to file a complaint about you.”

“I was that librarian.”

“Was?” His voice piqued with hope. “Were you fired? You came to apologize?”

“I’m your new Assistant.”

A current of air whistled past Mildred. The room blurred, and she found herself out in the hallway with the door slammed shut in her face.

“Shove me outside with magic, will you?” she muttered, pushing her sleeves up. “Two can play at that game.”

Mildred transported back into the office with an invisible protection shield around her.

“I don’t need an Assistant!” he bellowed. “Leave!”

“An attitude change is what you need,” she said, breezing past him. He tried to send her outside again, but his incantation fizzled into sparks.

“You can cast all the incantations to get rid of me that you want,” Mildred said, “but I don’t intend on leaving just because you’re childish. This is my only shot to get out of the library. And I’m going to make the best of it.”

“Childish?” he yelled. “You’re the child!”

She stepped over a pile of scattered books and an old dinner tray. The half-open window admitted message after message soaring at such frantic speeds that they looked like birds having seizures in flight.

“Your office is a disaster,” she said, nose wrinkling when she pulled a sock off the back of his desk chair. She rolled her eyes, a headache already forming at the base of her neck. This would certainly prove to be the longest day of her life. “We have a few things to discuss before I sign a contract to work with you.”

“Get out of here!”

“Be quiet,” she said. “You may speak to me like an adult, but you may not yell at me.”

Stephan’s nostrils flared, but he calmed himself for the moment.

“Your career is about to be yanked out from under your feet if we don’t do something about it,” Mildred said. “Would you like to starve on the streets?”

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” he shouted, balling his hands into fists. “Except serve an ungrateful Network that—”

She cast a silencing incantation for a moment of peace. His lips continued to move, but no sound came from his mouth.

“Yes,” Mildred said, drawing herself to her full height, which really wasn’t much taller than his. “I just set a silencing spell on you because of your disrespectful and, quite frankly, embarrassing mouth. Now, listen to me. I’m your last shot at an Assistant. If you don’t shape up, Donovan will fire you, replace you with one of his nitwit friends, and you’ll die alone. After an entire lifetime of hard work, is that how you want it all to end?”

He growled deep in his throat in response but averted his eyes. The moment of silence gave Mildred a chance to regain her scattered thoughts and compose herself.

“I’ll remove the incantation if you promise not to yell. Do we have an agreement?”

Stephan shot her another murderous glare, waded to his chair through piles of papers, and fell into the fluffy cushions. In the wake of his tantrum, he looked very old. Mildred took it as a yes and whispered a spell reversal.

“I want breakfast,” he said. Mildred blinked.

“Breakfast?”

“Yes!” he snapped. “Two eggs, a cup of coffee, and potatoes cut up into little squares. With tomatoes!”

“Well, I want to be the Assistant to a respectful Council Member. We can work something out if you calm that infernal temper and ask me politely.”

“Order me breakfast.”

“No.”

After five minutes of repartee, during which neither would back down, Stephan mumbled something faintly resembling a please, although she distinctly heard the words dotty bat follow it. Ignoring his attitude, Mildred wrote a request on a scrap of messenger paper and sent it to the kitchen with a spell.

“I want it clear,” Stephan said, pointing at her. “I don’t like Assistants. Stopped trying to get a competent one years ago. You’re not worth my time!”

“That’s fine. I don’t want to be your Assistant either. We’ll both do something we don’t want and hope that something good comes out of it. My first order of business will be to establish what you need done. Let’s start with an organized list, then we can get to cleaning this place,” she said, walking in a circle around his cluttered desk, waving a misplaced hanky out of her way with a flick of her wrist. It smacked him in the face. “I refuse to work in such a horrid environment.”

“Don’t touch my desk!”

“We can discuss my wages next week, once you’ve seen how I work.” She extracted two books from a mound of papers and sent them to the bookshelves. “Please keep in mind that I’m your Assistant, not your nanny.”

The room began showing signs of life for the first time in what had likely been months. The fire blazed a little higher, papers shuffled on the desk, sorting themselves into neat piles. Books continued to fly from the floor and onto the wall. He grabbed a novel as it sped past and opened it to the middle. Before he could properly start reading, the book snapped shut and flew to Mildred’s waiting hand.

“You may read after we’ve discussed what needs to be done.”

His squawks of protest fell on deaf ears. Mildred collected her supplies and a chair.

“I’ve already noted extensive housekeeping,” she said, unfurling a blank scroll. Instead of answering, he turned away and stared at the fire with a glower. Mildred added contact library students to notify of canceled classes for the next week to the list. She’d need all the time she could get to figure out her new job. Surely they’d understand, and maybe even appreciate, a break.

Stephan still hadn’t spoken a single word.

“If you don’t tell me what you want done, I’ll just do what I want,” Mildred said, hoping he didn’t see her heart slamming in her throat. If he knew how uncomfortable she was, she’d never gain the upper hand.

“Cookies,” he said, turning to face her with his wild hair flying out in all directions. The loose skin under his jaw wobbled whenever he spoke.

“Excuse me?”

He tucked his wrinkled hands, speckled with liver spots, into the too-small pockets of his vest and puffed out his chest. “I want you to make sure I have a plate of cookies, a glass of cold milk, and plenty of firewood to keep me warm. Also, ensure that my laundry is completed every week.”

“I’m not your wife.”

“No, you’re my Assistant and must do what I say.”

“I must not.”

“Then you’re fired!”

“You can’t fire me the first day,” she said. “I’m guaranteed a trial period of one month.”

“Don’t get the wrong cookies,” he mumbled with a scowl.

Mildred clenched her jaw at the idea of doting on him like a child. She hadn’t survived years of learning magic, doing homework until all hours of the night, and working as a librarian to dote on a grumpy old man.

“I’ll note reviewing tax records,” she said, forcing a calm tone. “When did you last meet with your Coven Leaders?”

“I love gardening,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “so you need to make sure that my pile of books on plants never falls below seven. I’ve read everything in the gardening section, so you’ll have to find something else like it.”

“You probably met with the Coven Leaders last year then. Lovely.”

“And don’t forget to order my hot chocolate in the morning!”

“I’ll order your hot chocolate as soon as you tell me something worthwhile,” Mildred countered testily, feeling the last remnants of her control fading. “I’m here to assist you in your business as a Council Member, not in your creature comforts. It’s an insult to assume I want anything to do with your laundry.”

His bushy eyebrows drooped until they nearly covered his dark eyes. “I won’t help you unless I’m taken care of.”

They stared at each other, mute with tension.

“Chocolate chip for the basic weekday,” he said. “But every weekend I’ll want snickerdoodles. Don’t forget to request extra marshmallows in my hot chocolate, and have my slippers replaced by the end of the week.”

Mildred itched to set a hex on him, and she refrained only because an envelope soared underneath the door and hovered between them. A wax seal in the shape of a dragon indicated the letter had come from the High Priest’s office. Mildred plucked it from the air.

“It’s a notice,” she said, frowning. “The Esbat is tonight.”

“The Esbat?”

“Yes.”

“Ha!” he hooted, looking altogether like an owl with his erratic hair and excited eyes. “Good luck with it, you intolerable monster! You’ll look like a fool tonight.”

With that, he snapped his mouth shut, folded his arms, and refused to say another word.

Mildred walked into the Council Room behind Stephan that evening, her nerves as frayed as an old string. She would have happily throttled him and his stubborn attitude if the idea of failing on her first day of work wasn’t so repulsive.

Her repeated pleas for help to Stella and Evelyn kept returning unanswered. Wherever they were, the letters weren’t able to get through. She fudged her way through the entire day, trying to make sense of tax ledgers, boundary documents, and property disputes. Stephan adamantly refused to speak, so Mildred ignored him, organizing the office and making as much noise as possible whenever he tried to nap.

“Welcome,” Porter said with a warm smile that was very nearly Mildred’s undoing. He checked her wrist for the Esbat mark and was about to ask a question—no doubt to see how it was going—but stopped when he saw the murderous look on her face. Without saying a word, he patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll try to speak with him. Don’t worry, Mildred. Give it time.”

He moved to check Stephan’s wrist. She clutched a thick scroll to her chest and stepped to the wall where she could wait for her friends to arrive. Throughout the day she’d taken random notes from the papers she’d sorted, but the figures and conclusions meant next to nothing to her. All the same, it felt better to have something with her for the meeting.

Salvation soon sashayed into the Council Room. Stella, who walked just behind Rand so she could see where his hands were at all times, stopped once she saw Mildred.

“Milly?” she mouthed.

“Let’s begin!” Donovan called, heaving his massive body onto his chair, a discernible redness in his eyes. “Seal the doors.”

Mildred had been so distracted she hadn’t even noticed how full the Council Room had become. Stella joined Mildred’s side, grabbed her arm, and sat next to her.

“What’s going on?” Stella whispered, glancing at Stephan over Mildred’s shoulder. His eyes were closed and his mouth open in a dissonant snore.

“I was hired as Stephan’s Assistant this morning,” Mildred said, running a hand over her face. “Stella, it’s been such a nightmare. He refuses to tell me anything and has tried to curse me at least ten times. What do I do? What does Donovan expect?”

Stella pressed her lips together. “You’ll have to give the first report,” she said, monitoring Donovan out of the corner of her eye. Council Member Terry stood for the invocation of blessings. Stella motioned for Mildred to be quiet, but reached for a nearby quill while Terry called down powers of wisdom and clarity. She took Mildred’s hand and wrote on the back of it.

“Middle Covens!” Donovan said the moment Terry finished, glaring from underneath his fatty eyebrows. “Report!”

“My new Assistant would love to report,” Stephan said with glee, then added under his breath, “See if you’re so confident now, eh, Margaret?”

“This is what you’ll need to go over,” Stella whispered, shoving Mildred’s hand back. “Make it up if you have to. Just stand up and get it over with. Try to appear confident.”

Mildred’s heart slammed in her chest. The pressure of sitting amongst so many influential witches left her nearly paralyzed. She didn’t have the time or knowledge to prepare for such a meeting. She didn’t even know the names of the Coven Leaders in the Middle Covens!

“Well?” Donovan snapped, his jowls wiggling. “What’s your report?”

“Stand up,” Stella whispered, pinching her elbow. “Hurry!”

Mildred rose to find her knees shaking. “I-I will report for the Middle Covens.”

“W-will you?” Donovan asked. “W-what’s your name then?”

The sheer injustice of his mocking, as well as the stifled titters coming from around the room, made Mildred white hot with anger. She was a professional! They weren’t supposed to mock her like they were all still schoolchildren.

“My name is Mildred Graeme.”

“What’s your problem? Report already!”

“I just started as Stephan’s Assistant this morning. To be honest, I—”

“I don’t care if you started five years ago, just give your report and be done! I have a meeting after this,” Donovan growled, but his eyes slipped to Rand, who grinned. She suspected that Donovan’s meeting had nothing to do with business, and more to do with the popular pastime of boxing.

The words Stella had scribbled on her hand were of little help. The wet ink had begun to run, but she managed to make the words out.

Changes

Expenses

Needs

Mildred scanned the list and realized with another flutter of panic that she had no idea what their changes, expenses, or needs would be. She willed herself to ignore the gossipy murmurs in the room. She’d not lose her future because of a grumpy curmudgeon and a surly, immature High Priest who cared more about gambling than the state of the Covens. She set her fingertips on the table in front of her to gain some balance.

“I’ll report what I know, Your Highness, which isn’t much considering I just started this morning. The Middle Covens are an unmitigated disaster.”

“Would you be quiet?” Stephan cried, whacking her with his cane. She caught it in her hand without looking and transformed it into a pencil, which she tucked behind her ear. Chortles filled the air, and Stephan’s ears flushed bright red.

“Bravo,” Stella whispered, laughing.

“What are you talking about?” Donovan snapped. “Everything was fine last month.”

“Where would you like me to start?” Mildred asked with renewed confidence. If she could do nothing else, she would at least stand firm in the truth. “I believe crime is high because I found six letters from different Coven Leaders complaining about looting. Jobs seem to be scarce because half the people can’t afford to pay their taxes. At least, that’s what the ledgers from five years ago say. They’ve only been updated erratically, and by different witches, for the last eighteen months. That’s just the beginning. I can go into greater detail if you’d like.”

“No!” Donovan stopped her as she reached for her thick scroll. His uncomfortable glare suggested that he expected her to take responsibility for the Middle Coven’s years of neglect, something she refused to do.

“What would you like me to report?” Mildred asked. “Do you want me to lie to you and tell you everything is fine when it clearly isn’t?”

A flicker of movement off to the left caught her eye. Evelyn sent her a bolstering smile. Mildred’s courage grew again. She wasn’t alone, for her friends always stood behind her.

“I don’t like you,” Donovan said, regarding her with distrust. “Not at all. You’re impertinent and lazy if you don’t even know what’s happening in your Covens. I can’t imagine it would take more than an hour or two to figure out the highlights.”

Mildred said nothing, shocked at his severe disconnection from reality. Did he really believe that she could understand Coven business in an hour? Or were the Middle Covens simply that disastrous? No wonder Porter worried about Donovan’s reign without Nell.

Donovan huffed. “I’m done hearing from you. You’ve bothered me, and now I’m in a foul mood for the—for my meeting. Get it straightened out by next month. Rand, report.”

Mildred slowly returned to her seat. She’d never really respected Donovan as High Priest, despite his reputed skill with intricate spells. He always seemed to find the easy way out of a situation, pawn responsibilities off on others, and rely too heavily on his old knee injury as a crutch instead of actually doing his job. But experiencing his laziness in person disappointed her so deeply that it felt like she’d woken from a dream and realized her ideals had never been real.

“Well done,” Stephan hissed. “Now you’ve gotten us both in trouble.”

Mildred ignored him, and he eventually fell back to sleep. Stella sent her an empathetic little smile, but Mildred didn’t have the energy to return it.

Her goal of becoming an Assistant had finally been realized, only she’d made a fool of herself, aligned with a Council Member that hated her, and become an enemy of the Highest Witch before the end of the day.

“What a wonderful beginning,” she muttered.