By J. M. Allison
“A pinch of mint, a sprinkle of red clover. Three drops of deep golden honey, and the sun-kissed petals of a yellow daisy. The peel of an orange, an azure feather of a bluebird, and…” I gave the cauldron contents a slow stir. “Six sprigs of lavender harvested under a full silver moon.”
I added the lavender sprigs and the liquid bubbled, a thick glopping gurgle. A thin haze and a rancid odor rose from the surface of my potion.
Felix yowled and glared at me, his light eyes accusing as his dark Siamese tail ticked back and forth. I pulled the cauldron off the fire and used a hot pad to fan away the thickening smoke. I peered into the steaming pot and coughed. Fumes stung my eyes, forcing me to blink rapidly.
I rushed to the kitchen window and threw open the small pane. True magic always comes at a cost. My grandmother’s words echoed in my head as I grimaced and glanced over my notes. I’d added everything correctly. Perhaps the feather hadn’t been blue enough. Or the red clover hadn’t been red. It wouldn’t be the first time my limited-spectrum vision had caused problems with my potion making.
“Your sight isn’t the problem.”
I turned toward the soft voice. A delicate pixie, no bigger than my thumb, sat in the open windowsill, her grayish wings fluttering now and again to help her balance. The mysterious little imp had a knack for turning up on the heels of disaster, and for responding to unspoken thoughts. Though I was fairly certain she couldn’t truly read minds.
“Then what is?”
Dalia giggled, her light curls bouncing. “Your point of view. Everything in the world’s a tradeoff. You have tremendous ability. Why does it matter if your cat eyes make you see the world in yellows, greens, and grays?”
“Maybe it’d be nice to enjoy a rainbow every so often. Not just pretend that the gray-green streak in the sky is impressive.” I shrugged and bit at my fingernail. “And it’d be helpful in making more powerful potions.” All the most effective potions required a discernment of color beyond my abilities, thus I was relegated to preparing only minor remedies.
“Just because your life looks different from someone else’s doesn’t mean it’s not full of its own wonderful things. Your eyes allow you to connect with Felix.” She nodded at the cat. “You hold the power to do everything you need to, just as you are.”
“The power of a second-rate witch, whose greatest contributions are helping cure sniffles and upset tummies, while the other witches can fix broken limbs, find lost items, and enact powerful protections. Lucky me.”
“The magic knows creating a potion to change yourself is a waste of your skills, so it won’t let you.” Dalia folded her arms and leveled a smug grin at me. “You’ll figure it out.” Then she fluttered her wings and zipped out the window and across the yard.
I frowned. She had a point. Had the spell only failed because I’d made it for myself?
I studied the view. The muted greens of the grass and trees, the dull blue expanse of sky. Felix leaped onto my lap and meowed an impatient demand for some dinner. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” I scratched behind his ears, and a low rumbling purr filled the air. “Neither do I, and that is the problem.”
I scooped some cat food into Felix’s dish, then paused. Perhaps I was going about this all wrong. I quickly grabbed a fresh cauldron and a new supply of ingredients, tossing in one item after the next. I added the lavender and gave the brew a slow stir.
This time the potion swirled with ease. The gray creamy broth gently simmered, a sweet aroma drifting from its surface. I dipped a spoon into the liquid and held it up to the light. The mixture swirled in variegated grays. The temptation to taste it nagged at me.
I popped the spoon into my mouth, then gagged and spit out the brew. How could it smell so wonderful and yet taste so awful? I held my breath, but no change occurred. My surroundings maintained their bland hues.
I looked back at the potion. I’d brewed it with the intent of helping others. The spell had worked. But who could it help?
“Meow.” Felix leapt onto the counter.
“No, Felix, that’s not for you!” I lunged at the cat, shooing him away, but not before he’d licked up several large drops I’d splashed on the countertop.
He jumped to the windowsill then turned and looked back at me. I gasped. His light eyes were shifting! The vertical slits rounded, giving his eyes a human look. Then he yowled, his tail swishing back and forth.
I crept toward him and gently stroked his fur, chanting the incantation that allowed me to link to Felix and see through his eyes.
My breath caught as the world exploded in color. The gray flames lapping at the cauldron blazed with a richness I’d never encountered. Could it be red? Or pink? Perhaps orange?
Felix looked up at me, and I saw myself through his eyes. My hair was mostly black, a mess of unruly curls, but with rich highlights matching the color of the flames. Beautiful. Was that why people sometimes stared?
A bird chirped outside, and Felix looked toward the window. The meadow and sky seemed ablaze. The greens and blues were so deep and full. So variegated. A bird fluttered by, its flame-colored wings bright against the white clouds.
Felix meowed once more then sprang out the window and charged across the meadow. Color streamed by as he ran. Amazing! I blinked and our connection broke. The dull tones of the world settled back into place. I smiled. Dalia was right. I already possessed everything I needed to fulfill my potential. I just needed a new point of view.
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It’s all about perspective! I love that you turned her “weakness” into a power!
Thanks for reading!