Eshu's Daughter

Ch. 4 Letting Go

Magic was not confined to wands, Kit thought, trailing a hand idly over the grass beneath her. She stared up through the green canopy overhead and watched the sun trickle through the leaves, streams of gold that looked as if they could be captured by quick fingers. This was her magic, her willow, her private little kingdom. There were no other children to laugh and mock her here, no parents to nag or teachers to lecture. There were only daydreams, half spun and floating upon the air like fairies.

She would be trading this magic for a new kind tomorrow, a kind found in potions and spell books. Would she fit as easily into that world as she did in the one she'd created here? Glass beads tinkled and sang as they rubbed together where she'd hung them from a branch above. Tiny ribbons twined around many of the branches, their rainbow colors glowing in the gold-green light. She'd strung glittering, gossamer strands of Christmas tinsel from the larger boughs so that each movement of the wind rocked them, casting silvery sparks all around.

Kit reached out to grasp one of the beribboned branches, pulling herself up. She swung a leg over the largest and lowest willow branch, arcing like a bridge down from the main trunk. It was a perfect one-girl teeter-totter and the reason she had first fallen in love with this tree when she'd discovered it months ago. Propelling herself upward Kit laughed at the bemused look on Puck's face where he huddled below her, black eyes bright and curious.

The knarl had earned his name on his first full day in the house. By noon he'd nibbled Kit's bunny slippers, knocked over a tin of flour, and committed the unforgivable sin of sharpening his teeth on her dad's deHavilland Mosquito. Her dad had been moved to tears by the tiny puncture marks now decorating one wing. Kit tried to point out helpfully how much the teeth marks looked like bullet holes if you squinted just right. He wouldn't be consoled, however.

Puck now spent his days with Kit in his carrying pouch or plotting some new mayhem in his cage. He may have been mischievous, but Kit had seen no sign of the maliciousness the shopkeeper had accused him of. Puck preferred to be with Kit and as long as she was nearby he refrained from outright destruction. Not even her dad could stay mad with him for long. One look from those doleful eyes, or a little pink paw pressed against his hand, and everything was forgiven. However, the spare bedroom door was now kept locked and the shoes huddled in the closets, terrified.

Kit leaned over on her next trip downward and scooped Puck into her arms. Together they shot back up, sunlight dappling their faces and wind whipping Kit's hair behind her. When her legs were weak from bouncing and Puck had curled up sleepily in the crook of her arm, Kit finally climbed off the willow bough. With a last look around, she brushed a hand across the ancient trunk and whispered goodbye to her willow.

***

She floated lazily above a fat white cloud, looking down at the cotton candy texture. What would it feel like to be a cloud? Kit dove, arrowing through the cloud and feeling the denser air enfold her, watching the sunlight dissolve into white mist. She sank lower until she was looking down at the patchwork fields below. Kit flipped, fluid and graceful in the air as she seldom felt on land. Facing the blue sky again, she laughed in the golden light.

A flock of tiny sparrows broke through the cloud and surrounded her. Their wingtips brushed her arms as they trilled a greeting, gliding all around. Sliding between the cheerful chirps a woman's voice whispered, a tiny rush of air and sound pressing, unintelligible, against Kit's ear.

Kit spun around wildly trying to find the speaker, but other than the birds still surrounding her she was alone. Fear squeezed her heart, although she couldn't have said why.

Suddenly, Kit was plummeting toward the ground. A terrified scream clawed its way out of her throat as she watched the cloud becoming a tiny white pinprick above her. The birds were also screaming, their calls high and wild. The screams became words, still screechy, still birdlike, but words nonetheless. "Fly! Fly! Put out your wings!"

Kit struggled to move her arms but the force of the air rocketing past her clamped them to her sides. Knowing it was useless, Kit focused all of her attention on moving just one arm, just her hand even. With a wrench she jerked her right arm up and began to scream again as she saw not the familiar freckled skin, but a bird's wing instead.

The whistling air tore at the brown feathers covering her wing and Kit winced with the pain of it. The birds still screeched their pleas above her, imploring her to fly, but Kit could only stare helplessly at that wing. Her wing. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, knew with a sickening certainty that she was going to hit the ground any second.

Kit jerked herself upward with all of her might and slammed back down hard against her bedroom floor. Gasping, she grabbed the side of the bed and propped herself up, looking around the room while violent shudders continued to shake her. A dream, it was only a dream. Her heartbeat began to slow, each breath coming more easily than the last.

The bedroom door crashed open and her mom rushed in, looking frantically around. "Kit, are you ok? What's the matter?" She paused when she noticed Kit sprawled on the floor, clinging to the bed sheets. Recovering quickly she fell to her knees beside Kit and pulled her against her chest. "What happened? Why are you on the floor?" she asked, pressing Kit closer.

A mouthful of cotton nightgown choked Kit when she tried to answer. Smothered, she pushed back enough to draw breath, finally managing, "I had a nightmare. I must have fallen out of bed. I'm all right, Mom. You can let go. Nothing's hurt."

"What's going on?" Kit's father demanded from the doorway. "Is Kit all right?" He sounded anxious.

It's not like this is my first nightmare, Kit thought, exasperated.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," she said, still clutched in her mother's arms.

Ever since they'd returned from Diagon Alley a week ago, her parents had been acting weird. Her dad had become so overprotective the house was practically on permanent lockdown. Kit couldn't walk to the mailbox without him shadowing her. Her mom on the other hand seemed to float through the house in a sort of daze, putting milk jugs in the microwave and shoving the laundry in the kitchen sink. If Kit so much as sneezed she was afraid they'd rush her to the emergency room.

It seemed that even a little nightmare was now cause for panic.

"Oh Michael," her mom said, "how can we let her go to that school? She'll be miles away with no one to take care of her. What if she has more nightmares? Who'll look after her?"

Kit yanked away from her mom and stood up quickly. "I'm not a baby," she said lifting her chin, hands clenched at her sides. "I can take care of myself just fine."

Her mom stared up at her, looking impossibly small huddled there on the floor. "No you can't. You're our baby. You need me, you need us," she said, bewildered, lost.

Kit's dad hurried over and pulled her mom into a hug, cradling her gently and brushing the hair out of her eyes. "We can't let her go," her mom said again, pleading.

"We can," he said, voice deep and sure. "Kit deserves this chance, Emma. We can't teach her everything she needs to know. Hogwarts can. It's not forever."

"That right, Mom," Kit said. "I'll be back for Christmas break. It will only be a few months."

Sadness settled over her mom like a cloak. "We haven't been apart for more than a few days since you were a baby," she said, eyes tracing over Kit's face, memorizing, comparing. Kit could see every minute of those eleven years reflected in her mom's eyes.

"It's just for a short while," her dad soothed. "And Kit will write you."

"Yeah, Mom," Kit jumped in. "I'll write every day if you like. Only please don't be sad." Kit's insides churned with guilt. She should offer to stay but she just couldn't force the words out.

Kit's dad led her mom out of the room, still making soothing sounds and murmuring reassurances. Kit crawled back into bed and stared out at the hall light. She let the familiar orangey-glow burn into her eyes, chasing away her guilt and fears.

Her dad came back after a few minutes and smoothed the covers over Kit's shoulder before sitting beside her on the bed. "Your Mom will be OK, Kit. We always knew you'd be going off to school someday." He smiled weakly. "We just thought you'd be eighteen, not eleven. This whole thing has been a real shock." Resting a hand on Kit's head he stroked her hair lightly.

"You're growing up so fast," he said. "It seems like just yesterday I was changing diapers and preparing bottles. I know you hate being treated like a child, but … well, you'll always be our little girl. And it's hard to imagine letting you go. Even for a few months."

His smile was strained when he added, "We'll manage, though. We'll just learn some of that stiff upper lip the Brits are always going on about." With a watery laugh he kissed Kit's forehead and left the room, careful to leave the door cracked, just in case.

With a glance at her bedside clock Kit felt a thrill of excitement despite the awkwardness of the past few minutes. Only six hours to go till they left for King's Cross.

Beside her new school trunk, Kit heard Puck grunt in his sleep. She yawned as she tried to remember if she'd packed everything. Did I already put Puck's treats in, she thought, just before falling back asleep, forgetting the nightmare entirely.

***

"Have you checked under the sink?" Kit's mom asked, looking distracted and harassed, as Kit watched her dash around the house, searching for books they might have forgotten, lost socks and a delinquent knarl.

"Why would he be under the sink?" Kit said, irritation beginning to sneak up on her, drowning out the earlier excitement. "Anyway, I've already looked in the kitchen three times, he's not in there."

"Well he has to be somewhere, what about in my sewing basket? I can just see him mangling my thread and scattering all the pins," her mom said. Kit moved into the living room, rolling her eyes as soon as she was well out of view.

"I already looked, not a thing out of place." She bent to peer under the couch, and jumped up just as quickly. There were dust-bunnies under there bigger than Shetland ponies. Guess that cleaning fit's well and truly over. "Puck's not under the couch or the chair either," she called. "You'd faint if you saw what is," she continued in a whisper, finding a smile.

After searching the rest of the room, Kit had to admit she was getting worried. Puck hadn't gotten outside somehow, had he? She hurried into the kitchen to examine the backdoor and windows, then into the other downstairs rooms to do the same. Nothing. No place he could have slipped out, unless he'd learned to waddle through walls. Kit pushed the thought away, but what did she know about knarls, really?

"Think, think. If I was a knarl where would I be?" Kit muttered. "On the train to London if I knew what was good for my prickly little butt," she added, scowling as she glanced at the clock. They were running late, and not one bit closer to finding Puck than when they'd started half-an-hour ago.

"Mom, we're gonna miss the train if we don't leave," Kit yelled, checking behind the umbrella stand. "We'll just have to go without him. There must be some way you can send him to me tomorrow." She felt ill at the thought of leaving him. He'll turn up, she tried to reassure herself.

"There's no need to yell, I'm standing right here," her mom said from the doorway. She moved to adjust one of the umbrellas, then reluctantly grabbed her purse from the hall stand. "Well go get your shoes on, you can't go to Hogwarts barefoot. Thank goodness your father's already put your trunk in the car. I don't know how the two of us are going to get it out again, however. I really wish he could have gotten out of that meeting," she sighed, urging Kit up the stairs.

With another glance at the clock Kit shot upstairs, flew into the bedroom and ripped open her closet door. Her favorite sneakers, worn and beaten, but extra comfy, were waiting for her … along with Puck, curled up fast asleep in the right shoe, one shoelace still in his mouth and the other reduced to tatters beside him.

Relief and annoyance battled for a moment. Relief won. She'd been picturing the most awful things, Puck trapped somewhere. And all along he'd been slobbering on her shoes. Kit gently lifted both shoes out of the closet and tipped Puck onto the bed. He grumbled sleepily and peeked one eye open, spitting out the shoelace and trying to look angelic when he noticed Kit watching him.

"It won't wash, buddy, I know exactly what you've been up to. What am I supposed to wear to the train station now? All my other shoes are packed." She shook a finger at him and tried to figure out if the laces were salvageable. They weren't. There was nothing else for it; she'd just have to make do. Inspiration struck, Kit whipped open her nightstand drawer and pulled out a length of yellow ribbon. Jogging to the spare room she found some scissors and cut the ribbon in two. It should be just long enough to work.

With a satisfied smile Kit finished tying her impromptu shoelaces and held out a foot to admire the effect. Her smile wobbled slightly. There was no denying it looked odd, but there really wasn't any other choice. Glancing at her alarm clock Kit yelped and snatched Puck off the bed, grabbed his carrying pouch and rushed back downstairs. Maybe we won't be too late, she thought, somehow hoping the laws of time and space would conveniently suspend themselves till she could reach London.

Her mom watched wide-eyed as Kit shot past her and climbed into the front seat of the car in record time. Kit glanced over her shoulder at her mom, sliding Puck into his pouch. "Aren't you coming?" she yelled up the drive.

With its usual whine the car started and they backed out of the driveway. "Stay on the left. Stay on the left," her mom muttered as they passed through the base gates. Kit shuddered in her seat - this should be interesting. All the same, she leaned over to peer at the speedometer. "The speed limit's thirty, Mom."

With a sniff and a small sideways glare her mom pressed the accelerator. Shaking off the mental image of them playing bumper cars with oncoming traffic, Kit flipped on the radio and tried to pretend she couldn't still hear "left, left, left" being chanted beside her. There was a reason her dad usually drove them anywhere off base.

***

King's Cross was rather crowded for a late Tuesday morning. The usual business commuters had long since passed through, but families on vacation, foreign tourists and people out for a bit of shopping packed the station. Kit struggled for breath as she trotted toward platform 9. The rattle of the wheels from the cart her mom was pushing combined with each breath to form a kind of rhythm. Puff, clackety-clack, puff, clackety-clack.

It had taken them a precious fifteen minutes to wrestle Kit's school trunk onto a cart and maneuver their way inside. Kit's watch showed they were about ten minutes late. She trotted faster. Puff, clackety-clack, puff, clackety-clack. Finally Kit could see the ticket booth between platforms 9 and 10, and just to the side of it a small crowd of people. She recognized most of them from Diagon Alley.

As Kit stopped and tried to catch her breath on the outskirts of the group, an older boy, dark haired and wearing a sweater-vest with a Hogwarts crest on it, stepped forward. "Are you Kristin Ellsington?" he asked in a brisk voice.

"Kit," she corrected automatically, "ummm I mean, yeah that's me." She tried not to fidget as he looked pointedly at a nearby clock and turned back to the group.

"Right, Shannon, that's the last of them then," he said glancing down at a list in his hand before turning to a girl on his right. She was as short as he was tall, with a pleasant, smiling face and a knot of brown hair that stuck straight up from the top of her head in a frizzy halo. She was also wearing a Hogwarts vest. "Well, let's get on with it, we're behind schedule and it's going to take a while to get this lot through the barrier," the boy said.

Shannon grinned, apparently unconcerned by his schedules, and addressed them all. "I've already introduced myself to some of you, but for those that I missed, my name is Shannon Reilly and this is Allen Bayliss," she said gesturing to Allen, still frowning at the paper in his hand. "We are both prefects at Hogwarts. Allen is in his seventh year, lucky devil, and I'm on my sixth. Has everyone got their tickets with them?" She waited a moment for the expected nods and murmurs of assent.

"Right. Well, we'll be taking students through the barrier to the school train in groups of two. Next year, you'll get to go through the barrier on your own. The most important thing to remember is to be discreet, make sure you go through when no one's watching. We don't want a load of people claiming there've been alien abductions or ghosts in the station now, do we," she said, beaming.

They just stared back at her in confusion. "Parents, I'm afraid you won't be able to cross through the barrier so you'll need to say goodbye here. Don't worry, your students will be safe in their beds by tonight and learning all sorts of stuff to write home about in no time. I must have sent a letter a day when I started at Hogwarts, the school owls were exhausted," she rattled on.

"Shannon, the time," Allen muttered beside her, "you can share your fascinating little stories some other day. We need to get moving."

Shannon's smile never faltered. In fact it seemed to grow wider. Kit had the sudden suspicion that she was enjoying Allen's irritation. Wonder how far she'll push him? Kit never got the chance to find out because just then a large gray cat leaped onto Kit's trunk. The cat gave a demanding meow and batted at her side. Kit flushed, feeling everyone look at her. She tried to shove the cat away but it rubbed against her hand, purring.

"Merlin, get back over here," a voice hissed close by. The cat's owner, unfortunately, turned out to be Devon. That same cowlick was sticking up over one ear, but Kit was disappointed to see he'd managed to get his breakfast in his mouth this time; his shirt was spotless. A nice greasy egg splotch would have gone nicely with his surly expression.

Merlin didn't seem to feel like rejoining his master. He meowed loudly again and arched against Kit's side. At her hip Kit felt the pouch quiver and Puck started growling. Kit's mom was making shooing noises and glancing nervously at the cat. Deciding she'd better deal with this quickly, Kit reached down to stroke the cat once. "Go back to your master," she said, looking into Merlin's bright yellow eyes. Puck's growls were getting louder and he'd begun scratching at the top of the pouch to get out.

With a final plaintive meow the cat leapt off Kit's trunk and strolled leisurely back to Devon. Devon scooped Merlin into his arms, clamping the cat firmly against his chest. He glared at Kit over the cat's head as if furious that his cat had the bad taste to associate with her.

Everyone else meanwhile was staring at Puck's carrying pouch, faces reflecting varying degrees of shock, apprehension and curiosity. Allen had even dropped his list, mouth open in surprise at the scene playing out in front of him. Puck's growls weren't quite as loud now, but they still sounded vicious and he seemed determined to escape. Kit decided to release him before he hurt himself. When she loosened the pouch top more than one person drew back. Kit scooped Puck out and he quieted, snuggling into her palm and looking around curiously. "It's just a hedgehog," someone breathed with a relieved laugh. There were a couple of chuckles, and both of the prefects relaxed, before remembering the time and jumping back into their roles.

"OK, well, who'd like to go through first?" Shannon said, eyes sweeping over the group.

Kit wasn't surprised to see Spencer appear, dragging his sister behind him. He'd seemed like the adventurous sort last week, fascinated by every goblin and store they saw.

"Excellent, now everyone else please pay close attention. Let's all move closer to the barrier," she motioned toward a perfectly ordinary brick wall near the ticket counter. "With so many of us, it will be harder for anyone that's not supposed to, to see."

Spencer and Ellie turned back to wave at their parents. Then, grabbing the cart loaded down with both their trunks, an owl cage, and a cat carrier, the two of them walked with Shannon right up to the wall. "The wall is magic, of course," she said. "Just push your cart up against it and walk right through." Ellie looked rather skeptical. Spencer on the other hand shoved the cart forward without a second thought and in a moment the two of them had vanished.

There were a few gasps and Kit's mom grabbed her shoulder, squeezing tight. "Who'll go next?" Allen asked. He and Shannon began moving through the group pairing students off and then taking them up to the barrier. Kit turned to face her mom, dislodging the hand at her shoulder.

"Well I guess it's time for me to go then," she said awkwardly, all too aware of the anxiety filtering back into her mom's face. "I'll write every day, Mom, I promise. And like Dad said I'll be back in a few months. Think of all the fun stuff you and Dad can do without me around to keep an eye on."

Her mom took a deep breath and made a visible effort to rein in her emotions. She smiled shakily, reaching out to smooth the bangs off Kit's forehead. "There'd better be a letter on my doorstep every day, or I'll have your father send out the entire squadron to bring you back home."

"That'd almost be worth seeing," Kit said, "my own personal fly over."

Her mom managed a laugh and swooped down to pull Kit into a hug. She jumped back with a small squawk, however, when Puck's quills inadvertently dug into her chest. Kit slid the knarl back into his pouch, lips twitching as her mother feigned a look of long suffering patience and then enveloped her in another hug. They stayed like that for a long moment before Kit's mom finally drew away.

"You take care of yourself at that school, don't forget to eat, don't stay up late and remember you can come back home right away if you want to," her mom said, unable to hide the faint trace of hope that entered her voice. "Your dad and I love you, baby, we're both going to miss you so much."

"I love you too, Mom, and I'll miss you both. Thanks for letting me go to Hogwarts…" Kit said, becoming uncomfortable at the misty look in her mom's eyes. Please don't let her burst into tears and embarrass me.

"It's time to go," Shannon said from behind Kit. "You and Serena are the only two left."

Kit turned to find the odd, colorless girl she'd noticed last week standing beside Shannon. Guess that answers the mystery of her name, Kit thought, offering a friendly smile. Serena stared impassively back. Kit's smile faltered and she turned back to her mom. "Bye then, I'll write you tomorrow."

Her mom was looking at Serena with a puzzled frown, "Aren't your parents going to see you off, dear," she said.

Serena blinked at her, taken aback. "My mother dropped me off this morning. We've already said our goodbyes," she said softly. She had a beautiful, musical sort of voice. For some reason that surprised Kit. She wasn't sure exactly how she'd expected Serena to sound, but it hadn't been like that.

Kit's mom made a little sound of dismay, clearly shocked that not everyone wanted to cling to their children until the last possible moment. "I see, well you have a good time at school, Serena was it?" she smiled at Serena when the girl nodded curtly, and grabbed Kit for a last hug. "I love you, Kit, don't forget to write."

"I won't, Mom," Kit sighed. She grabbed the cart and wheeled it toward the barrier, Shannon right behind her. Just before passing through Kit looked back at her mom and waved. Her mom waved back with tears in her eyes, but a determined smile still plastered on her face. Kit thought for a moment, as she turned back, that Serena had been looking back as well, her expression wistful. Studying the other girl's blank face, however, she decided she'd been mistaken. Serena didn't seem the sort given to emotion, of any kind. Even her personality was colorless.

With a deep breath Kit pushed the cart through the wall, finding no resistance, and saw a new platform emerge in front of her with a scarlet steam engine shining brightly beside it. There were a few students around, but she'd obviously arrived before the majority of them, or else it was going to be a very empty train.

Serena peeled off left without so much as a word. After thanking Shannon, Kit turned right, heading for the middle of the train. Looking around with interest, she noticed quite a few cats wandering around at their owner's feet. There were even a handful of owls, though most were caged. The animals appeared to have noticed Kit as well.

With horrified embarrassment Kit watched several cats and at least one owl turn in her direction. All of them abandoned their respective owners to come investigate this new arrival. The first cat to reach her was a marbled calico with gleaming yellow eyes. She meowed daintily up at Kit, pressing a paw to her shoe. She had competition in short order, however, as Merlin and another cat reached Kit and sat down to stare politely up at her with curious eyes. The owl landed on Kit's shoulder and hooted.

Puck was not amused. Ominous snarls and growls came from his pouch and he'd once again begun tearing at the top. This is getting ridiculous, Kit thought, wanting to sink right through the floor as each of the animals' owners started in her direction. What do I do now? Visions of just running off and hiding in one of the train compartments teased her, ruined only by the subsequent picture of three cats, an owl and four angry students chasing after her. Squaring her shoulders Kit surrendered to her fate and prepared to meet her schoolmates.