Medea the Enchantress Read online

  Having been at sea for so long, the two girls really were thirsty. They quickly drained their glasses. Afterward Medea sat up straighter, frowning. She felt different somehow.

  “And so then Jason smiled at me . . . ,” Glauce was saying.

  Hey! Hearing Glauce speak of her crush didn’t hurt now! And when Medea thought of Jason, her heart didn’t go ka-thump anymore. Sure, she still admired him as a great leader and a good guy. However, the intensity of her feelings had altered. She wasn’t crushing on him!

  Why the change? Medea glanced at her aunt, who smiled a secret smile and eyed the now-empty glass by Medea’s plate. Of course! That lemonade! Circe must have put some kind of anti-crush potion in it. Maybe the lemon-flavored potion had somehow soured her crush on Jason. Hooray! At last the crushing unhappiness of liking a boy who didn’t like her back had been lifted. She felt pounds lighter!

  “Oh, I wish you guys could meet Jason. He is sooo adorbs!” she heard Glauce say. Ha! Obviously her crush hadn’t soured one bit! Circe’s potion must only work on the kind of crush that was magically caused, like Medea’s had been.

  Once breakfast ended, Medea and Glauce went to shower and change. After they’d gotten fresh uniforms from the supply room and put them on, they headed for Circe’s office.

  Along the way Medea noticed a poster in the hall announcing that the Magicasters Club tryouts would be held in the open-air auditorium after school on Monday. Up to three new members would be invited to join those already in the club. Other posters like this one had been hanging all over EA for the past few weeks. Before either girl could remark on the notice, Circe appeared. “Time for me to magic you home,” she said to Medea.

  “Please,” Medea said to her aunt, “I know I have to go home and face the music. But first can you prophesy my future? Will Dad forgive me when he finds out what I did?”

  “I’ll try,” Circe agreed. Her eyes took on that familiar faraway look, and when her vision came, she told Medea, “You will soon meet someone wise beyond her years. She will suggest something you should undo and something you should do.” With that confusing (and unhelpful!) prophecy, Circe waved her wand and sent Medea traveling back to Colchis.

  But not before Glauce got in a few last words of criticism. “No offense, Medea, but you’re holding your wand the wrong way again!”

  Medea barely had time to roll her eyes, and then she was back at her dad’s palace. Finding him seated on his grand throne, she nervously wished Circe’s prophecy had been more helpful (and hopeful!) about her future. Still, she was so happy to see her dad that she ran over to him at once. “Dad!”

  “Medea! You’re safe!” he boomed, jumping up to hug her tight. “I was so worried about you when Circe sent word that you’d been missing all week and had only just returned to the Academy this morning.”

  When he let her go again, she said, “I’m sorry! There was an accident at Mount Olympus Academy and I got magically sent to . . . to the Argo.” She took a deep breath. Then, before she could lose her courage, she confessed all. “And I helped the Argonauts steal the fleece! I tried to stop them at first, but then I fell under a boy-liking spell caused by one of Eros’s arrows, and helped Jason and his crew instead,” she said in a rush.

  Her dad stared at her in surprise and practically fell back onto his throne. By the time she’d filled in the details of all that had happened since she’d accidentally found herself caught up in the quest, the king’s expression had turned thoughtful. “No mortal can fight the power of an arrow from the immortal Eros. I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

  “Really? But what about your fleece! And your fancy jeweled chair! And your guards said our side cheated.”

  “Bah! Cheat schmeat. A cape and a seat. I admit I was more attached to them than I should have been. But they are only things, and I can get new ones. Daughters, on the other hand?” His eyes glistened with tears. “You’re my one and only. And you’ve made me proud. Not only did you come up with some clever ideas to help Jason on that quest, you also showed true courage both in helping him and in admitting to me just now what happened. You’ve taken care of yourself and others, too. Seems you’re capable of much more than I’ve given you credit for.”

  Medea smiled, practically glowing with happiness. Then, remembering her earlier worry, she said, “But I thought that if you lost the fleece, you’d be dethroned. Meaning you’d lose your kingdom.” She looked around. “Only that hasn’t happened,” she added, seeing that things seemed pretty much the same as always.

  Her dad smiled at her fondly. “Circe and I believed the prophecy meant I’d lose my kingdom. After hearing your tale, I realize that it only said I would lose my throne to Jason, which indeed I did. You and he took the small throne I left in the grove!”

  “Oh!” They shared a laugh at this.

  Medea smiled even more broadly, feeling happier than she had in some time. But her joy dimmed when she remembered that on Monday she’d have to go back to school, and everything would be just the same as before her big adventure this week, with her living here and having to be whisked back and forth each day. Unless . . .

  She gave her dad a sidelong glance. He was in a good mood right now. Should she find out if he’d at least consider letting her board at school like the other EA students? After all, she had proved she could take care of herself on a dangerous quest. She took a deep, fortifying breath, then opened her mouth to ask. But before she could utter a word, a royal servant burst into the room and called him away to tend to some problem at the far end of the realm. After giving her another quick hug, her dad was off, not to return until late Sunday night. Medea sighed, watching him scurry away with his attendant.

  She went over to the window seat where she’d eavesdropped on Circe and her dad a week ago and sat on it, feeling droopy. “Well, you missed your chance,” she muttered to herself. “Looks like nothing’s going to change around here.”

  But what could she do about that?

  11

  Magicasters

  WHEN MEDEA RETURNED TO ENCHANTMENT Academy on Monday morning, the quest of the Argo was the talk of the whole school. And Glauce was making sure she and Jason were the stars of the tale.

  “So when we were on the quest, I came up with the idea to throw the dove-shaped pillow through those terrifying Clasher rocks!” Glauce said to students gathered around them in the hall as they went to first-period classes.

  Medea ground her teeth. Grr. As usual, Glauce had left her out of the story. Over the course of the morning, if Glauce ever bothered to include her in any descriptions of the quest, she made Medea’s actions seem silly or misguided.

  And, as usual, Medea let her. Because if she butted in to tell the true story, she knew she’d come off sounding boastful and nitpicky. Hey, cutting me down doesn’t build you up, you know, Medea wanted to tell her frenemy. But Glauce would only pretend to be wounded by her accusation. Or to not understand what she meant.

  Many students seemed especially fascinated with Glauce’s famous new crush, Jason. Even though Medea was no longer crushing on him herself, it still hurt that Glauce took every opportunity to rub it in that Jason liked her and not Medea.

  “I’m pretty sure Orpheus even wrote a song about Medea crushing on Jason. So embarrassing for her!” Glauce said when they were all in the cafeteria lunch line.

  Finally Medea couldn’t take any more. “Anybody would start crushing if one of Eros’s arrows struck them,” she protested in her defense.

  “Yeah, that’s true. It wasn’t Medea’s fault,” put in a girl standing in line with them. Her name was Arete, and she was in the Magicasters Club. Medea knew her, but not all that well. Still, she smiled Arete’s way, grateful that the girl had stood up for her.

  Glauce shrugged. “Well, regardless, Apollonius is bound to put Medea’s hopeless crush in his musical.” She smiled as if she found this amusing.

  Medea noticed that others were now giving Glauce looks, too. Disapproving looks. Like maybe
they felt that she wasn’t being fair to Medea.

  “Anyway,” Glauce went on. “From the letter Jason sent me last night by messenger pigeon, I can tell you that the Argo’s adventures continue. On their way to Iolcus, the crew barely avoided the lure of Sirens perched on some jagged rocks along the shore.” Having successfully captured her listeners’ attention again, she smiled. “Good thing, too, because those Sirens’ idea of fun is to sing so beautifully that passing ships will sail closer and wreck on those jagged rocks!”

  Gasps sounded. The students in line hung on Glauce’s every word as they filled their trays and then went to sit in the cafeteria. By the time Medea followed others to the long table they ate at, she could only find a seat at the far end. Glauce was at the other end—the head of the table—like a queen holding court.

  “And that’s not all,” Glauce told her spellbound listeners. “The Argonauts encountered this enormous mechanical giant named Talos on the island of Crete. It blocked their way home, threatening to hurl great boulders down on them. But guess how they foiled him?”

  “How?” asked several students.

  “By pulling a nail from his ankle. That caused the oil inside Talos—which was what kept the machinery parts inside him running—to drain out. And then he fell into the sea!” crowed Glauce.

  “Hi, okay if I sit here?” someone asked. Medea looked over to see that Arete was standing next to her with her lunch tray by the single empty seat at the long lunch table.

  “Sure,” Medea said in surprise.

  Once Arete was seated, she glanced toward Glauce at the other end of the table, then looked at Medea. “Did she really do what she claims she did on the Argo?” she asked quietly. “Just asking, since you were there and all.”

  For once someone was asking for her side of the story. Remembering how Glauce had taken credit for things she shouldn’t have, Medea wanted to blurt out the total, brutal truth. Still, she didn’t want Arete to think that she was spiteful or that she was trying to take all the credit herself!

  “Some of it,” Medea said tactfully.

  “Hmph. That’s what I figured,” said Arete, seeming to take Medea’s meaning, even though she hadn’t exactly spelled it out.

  “Thanks for sticking up for me in the lunch line,” Medea added.

  Arete shrugged and cocked her head toward Glauce. “I don’t like how she always teases people and puts them down. But in a weirdly nice way so that most of the time it almost seems like she’s helping them. Some people really know how to one-up you, you know?”

  “Yes, I do know,” Medea replied in surprise. She’d been so focused on her own feelings that it hadn’t occurred to her that others might actually see Glauce the same way she did.

  “I used to hang out with her some,” Arete admitted as she ate. “But she was never very nice to me. And after she was mean to me for, like, the millionth time, I decided I didn’t have to put up with it. So I decided to undo my friendship with her. And to do stuff I wanted to do that she said I couldn’t.”

  Huh? Medea’s mouth dropped open. Undo? Do? Those were the very words Circe had prophesied that someone wise beyond her years would speak to her! Well, if Arete was in Magicasters, she must be smart, which was kind of like being wise.

  Was Arete right? Should she, too, consider ditching her friendship with Glauce? It was definitely toxic and often upsetting. But could it truly be that easy?

  “Okay, well, the real reason I came over is I just wanted to say that I hope you’re going to try out for Magicasters,” said Arete.

  Medea shook her head. “I wish. But since I don’t board, I wouldn’t be able to make the meetings.”

  Seeing another friend waving to her, Arete gobbled the last few bites of her food. Then, giving Medea a quick, friendly smile, she stood to go. “Just try out,” she coaxed. “If you can stay after school today, just this once, I mean. Then we’ll worry about you making the meetings later.”

  As Medea watched Arete head out of the cafeteria with the other girl, a new thought occurred to her. If my friendship with Glauce is one of the things I should undo, maybe tryouts are one of the things I should do. Thinking hard on this, she stood to go to the tray return.

  Glauce popped up at the same moment and followed with her own tray. “Buddying up to one of the Magicasters Club members?” she asked.

  Medea shrugged. “Arete, you mean? We were just talking about tryouts.”

  “No offense, but you really shouldn’t try out for the Magicasters if you haven’t been practicing for it. I mean, it’s not something you just up and do. I’ve been perfecting my act for ages. I’m only saying this for your own good. Don’t forget the tomato incident. Imagine doing something that embarrassing during tryouts in front of a whole auditorium!”

  Medea seethed with anger at Glauce’s seemingly deliberate attempt to undermine her confidence. Instead of imagining what Glauce wanted her to, she imagined her eyes flashing so hotly that they blasted Glauce and her sly remarks to smithereens! But then she thought of Arete. Would that girl have taken Glauce’s bait in this situation and gotten jealous? No! Not anymore, Arete wouldn’t. And neither would she, Medea decided.

  So she just shrugged and said pleasantly, “Thanks for the advice, but I am going to try out. Good luck at the auditions.”

  At her calm, confident reply Glauce’s head jerked back and dismay filled her face. Medea’s response was obviously not the reaction she’d wanted or expected.

  “And, no offense,” Medea said, purposely using Glauce’s own phrase, “but I wish you wouldn’t say things to me for ‘my own good.’ I can decide for myself what is or isn’t good for me.”

  Hmph. “You sure?” Glauce replied snidely.

  “Actually, yes. I am totally sure,” Medea said firmly. Feeling much lighter, she walked away from Glauce and maybe from a toxic friendship, too.

  At the school’s office Medea sent word to her dad back in Colchis that she had an after-school project and hoped he’d understand that she’d be home late, maybe not till after sundown. Then, for the rest of the day, she tried to think of an act to perform at tryouts. She had talked big, but now she had to do something big. If she’d had more time to talk herself out of trying out, she might have. But she was filled with annoyance-at-Glauce-inspired confidence.

  Afternoon classes flew by. Before she knew it, Medea was walking into the open-air auditorium for Magicasters tryouts. Every contestant had brought a “bag of tricks,” which was basically a schoolbag containing whatever props they’d need for their audition. The seventeen other students trying out had probably planned what to bring, but Medea had just randomly pulled things from her locker that might come in handy. All too soon, the judges announced that they would each be allotted ten minutes to perform an “original, awe-inspiring act of magic” that showcased their special skills.

  The magic skills on display proved to be amazing. One girl used her magic to blow out the auditorium’s torches and make everyone’s teeth glow in the dark. A boy changed the judges into monkeys. It was only for five seconds, but they didn’t seem happy about it, so maybe his trick hadn’t been the best idea, actually.

  And then Glauce did her act. It was a stunner. She magicked up a life-size image of Jason and had him blow kisses to the crowd! A wave of girls’ sighs cascaded over the audience at how cute he was.

  After Glauce sat down, Medea felt a moment of doubt. The other contestants were so talented. How could she ever compete? She’d been trying to think of an idea for today’s tryouts ever since she’d talked with Arete at lunch. She didn’t really have a special talent she was proud of. Only one she wasn’t proud of.

  She sat up straighter in her seat. Hey, maybe . . . could she use her eye-flash curse, um, ability in her act? Did she dare? Practically the whole school had gathered to watch these tryouts. What if she fried the entire club, the judges, and everyone in the audience? That was a shudder-worthy thought!

  Ever since Glauce had teased her about her eye-flash
power in first grade, she had tried to squash it and hide it away somewhere deep inside her. Like putting it in a prison. And only when she grew angry was it able to burst out of that prison. But what if she stopped holding it captive? What if she let it out in an orderly, positive way that didn’t harm anyone? A way that only helped others. The notion was as intriguing to her as it was new.

  She would need a good idea to showcase her so-called talent. Something that would wow (but not horrify!) the judges. As the other contestants continued taking turns performing, Medea racked her brain for a way to make her eye-flash talent shine. From a few rows back she could hear Glauce bragging to another girl about one of the letters she’d gotten from Jason. “He’s so sweet. Did I tell you he said my hair is like the sun and my eyes are like stars?”

  Hearing this, Medea smiled to herself. Because suddenly she knew what she would do. When it was finally her turn to try out, the last of the contestants as it happened, she climbed boldly onto the stage with her schoolbag in hand.

  “You may begin in your own time, but remember you have only ten minutes,” one of the judges told her as soon as she stood onstage before them. Seventeen contestants had gone before her, and night had fallen. The auditorium’s many torches glowed softly in the darkness. Perfect. Quickly Medea set down her bag, then pulled her wand and a small hand mirror out of it, before straightening again to face the crowd. Holding the mirror reflective side up in one palm, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  She didn’t rush her special fry-power or try to imprison it either. And for once she didn’t summon anger in order to set it free. Instead she tried to call up her talent with a determination born of the new confidence she felt in herself. To her surprise, she felt her power begin to rise within her in a controlled sort of way. Slowly and surely she let it build . . . and build, until it was strong enough to travel to places farther than she’d ever sent her magic before. Did she dare? Thoughts of the tomato incident tried to creep in and undermine her confidence. No! She pushed them away, keeping her concentration.