Middle Grade Fantasy Submission

Revising manuscript and working on query letter. Feedback first ten pages appreciated!

The Aurora Witch - Pages 1-10

Prologue: The Raven at the Window

Dr. Albert Grantham was in a bit of a pickle. At least, that was how his daughter Millie would have phrased it.

He paced in his study, eyes trailing over the perfectly organized bookshelves. His office was a tidy, austere sanctuary where even the paperclips knew their place. The only part of the room that hinted at any disorder was the stack of letters on his desk. Physicists from around the world were all reporting the same anomaly, a phenomenon which bore an eerie resemblance to the one from fifteen years ago.

Sighing, Albert collapsed into a worn leather chair. Of course, he'd have to leave. Except now he had no idea what to do with the children.

Albert had three brilliant children. Unfortunately, they had a well documented history of frightening off every nanny he hired.

Millie, was a bastion of firstborns: responsible and clever. The only problem was her penchant for telling the nannies how to do their job, something they did not appreciate.

Oliver, the middle child in every sense of the word, was an architect of mayhem. His latest prank involved hiding alarm clocks in the nanny's room set to go off every hour after midnight. Albert would never admit this, but it had been quite brilliant.

Then there was Henry who, at seven, had the uncanny ability of turning up in places that defied the laws of physics. He was obsessed with animals, sneaking them inside so often that Albert had animal control's number memorized.

But the real problem was not the children themselves, but the strange things that seemed to occur around them. Vines invading the house, even attacking one of the nannies. The fire department removing Henry from the top of a fifty-foot tree. The uncanny silver mist that surrounded the house every night.

Albert attributed these mishaps to a series of unlucky circumstances. Unfortunately, every caregiver in the region knew of these circumstances. No matter how much money he offered, no one would take the job.

So, in his desperation, Albert had done the unthinkable. The one thing he said he'd never do.

He'd called his sister Edith.

Then he called her again. And again. And again.

He'd left dozens of messages. He'd emailed her. He would've faxed her if he thought she had a fax machine. Yet three days had passed and no response.

That was when he heard it, a strange scratching sound coming from his window. Yet when he turned, there was nothing there. Shaking his head, he leaned back into his chair.

tap tap

Albert sat up, his eyes returning to the window. He stepped closer, a small silhouette coming into focus.

"What in the world," he breathed.

A large inky black bird was tapping its beak against the glass. Not just any bird, but a raven.

He opened the window, bracing for the onslaught of feathers and claws. But the raven remained poised, stepping onto the windowsill with a grace that seemed unusual even for a trained bird. Then it lifted its leg where a rolled-up piece of paper was attached.

Carefully, Albert reached for the message.

It only took one glance at the spindly handwriting etched across the paper--no, not paper: parchment--for Albert to know exactly who it was from.

Dearest Albert,

I have received all twenty-seven of your messages and am happy to keep the children for as long as you need. There is plenty of room here at Juniper House for any and all plants, insects, or pets (except for parrots, as they irritate the ravens). June 1st is set to be a lovely day with clear skies perfect for travel. If this day works for you, simply write "yes" on this parchment and send it back with Edgar.

All my love,

Edith

Albert looked up at the raven and blinked.

The raven blinked back.

"I guess you're Edgar," he said.

And there he was, talking to a raven, day one of resuming contact with Edith. Of course,a raven named Edgar was the kind of thing she would find amusing. He wouldn't be surprised if she also had ravens named Allan and Poe.

Below her message, Edith had written her address: 112 Juniper Road, Whisper Hollow, Maine 04841

Albert searched his memory for what he remembered of Whisper Hollow. There were the

shops, the beach, and beautiful wooded areas. There were the town's residents to contend with,

who shared Edith's strange beliefs. But Albert's children were not like other children. Whatever

strange ideas filled their heads would fade after summer's end.

Reluctantly, he took an ink pen and scribbled "yes" onto the parchment then tied it to the

raven's leg.

Then, with a flutter of velvety black wings, the raven vanished into the night.

Chapter 1: The Last Day of School

Millie awoke with a start. Heart racing, she tried to recall the strange dream that had jolted her from sleep. She could vaguely remember colorful streams of light dancing around one another.

Then there had been a figure with skin as pale as the moon. But it was the depthless black eyes that had startled her awake. Even now, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was still being watched. Not just in the dream, but here, in this room.

She glanced toward the window and could just make out the dark outline near the glass.

There was a ripple of black feathers and beady eyes staring. As though watching her.

Pulling on her glasses, she clicked on her lamp.

The window was, of course, empty.

Millie shook her head, what an absurd thought. Birds didn't watch people. Sighing, she got to her feet and began dressing for school.

"I really don't have a choice," a voice said, and Millie recognized the deep timbre of her father's voice, "I tired every nanny in the state."

Millie scowled.

She didn't need a babysitter. She was almost thirteen, and in some countries that was considered adulthood. Well, she didn't really know if that was true, but she could've sworn she'd read that somewhere before.

She took in her reflection as she tugged on her uniform that was snug in all the wrong places, making her too-large cat-eye glasses slide down her nose. They had never fit her, but as

they had once been her Mom's, Millie had been unable to part with them.

She glanced at the photograph taped to the mirror, that familiar ache resurfacing.The young Kara Grantham was smiling brightly, white teeth glowing against dark bronze skin, her thick black hair styled in loose curls.

Millie kissed her fingers before caressing the photograph then made her way to the kitchen.

As she cooked breakfast, her mind wandered back to her dream. Had there been a raven?

"Are the boys awake?" Albert asked, startling her from her thoughts.

"Not yet," she replied, eyeing her father surreptitiously.

He was dressed neatly in his usual smart trousers and a button-down shirt. He looked tired, more so than usual. She remembered a time when he had been very handsome. Now his wavy brown hair was streaked with gray at the temples, and he had deep lines carved into his face.

With a sharp pop, she turned to see that the bacon was finished and quickly turned off the stove.

"Thank you, Mildred," Albert said and she grimaced.

Millie's real name was Mildred. It was, in her opinion, one of the worst names to ever have been invented. If anyone at school ever discovered that her name was really Mildred, she'd have no choice but to move to Iceland.

As though summoned by the smell of bacon, Henry came careening into the dining room, his honey-colored hair a mess of unruly waves. Millie tutted as she gestured to the sink, wondering how he'd managed to get dirt on his hands so early in the morning. She'd made sure he'd bathed just last night.

"Soap," she ordered, hoping that her father was watching. But, of course, he wasn't.

As they took their seats at the table, Oliver walked grumpily into the kitchen. He collapsed onto his chair with his eyes still half-closed and his jet-black hair sticking in every direction.

"Good morning," Millie said, a little too brightly.

Oliver immediately narrowed his eyes and Millie felt her cheeks flush. He had this annoying way of always sensing what was going through her head. She met his onyx colored eyes and shook her head, shooting a nervous glance towards their father.

"What are you guys talking about?" Henry said around a mouthful of eggs.

"Nothing," they chorused.

They ate in near silence. Henry squirming and Oliver looking like he might fall asleep on his plate. Millie decided that there wouldn't be a better moment than this and awkwardly cleared her throat.

"I was thinking that it's time I start babysitting."

The table gave a cinematic pause, silverware clattering onto plates, Henry and Oliver both watching intently.

"No," Albert said firmly.

Millie opened her mouth to argue, but he had already returned to his newspaper. Oliver must've noticed her look of defeat because he pounded his fist on the table.

"Why not?" he argued. "I'd listen to her."

This was most definitely not true, but Millie appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

"I was actually meaning to discuss something with the three of you," Albert began, rubbing the inside of his eyes, "You see, something very important has come up, and I have to leave this summer."

"So what, you're just going to leave us here?" Oliver asked angrily.

"Not here," Albert answered. Then, clearing his throat, "you'll be staying with my sister."

Millie froze. Oliver's mouth fell open. Henry frowned in confusion.

"You have a sister?" Henry asked, making Albert choke on his coffee.

"Yes, of course, I have a sister," he wheezed, "I'm sure I've told you about her before."

"Aunt--Aunt Edith?" Oliver stammered, "We can't stay with her! She's--she's--" he

twirled his finger in a circle near his temple, "you know..."

"She's crazy?!" Henry exclaimed, eyes wide.

"She's not crazy," Albert admonished, "She's just...odd."

"Odd is just something you say when you can't call a crazy person crazy," Oliver huffed.

"She's eccentric," Albert stated with finality.

"You told me you didn't like us spending time with her," Millie began, unable to hide the accusation in her voice, "You said she'd fill our heads with strange ideas. You said that's why she never comes around anymore, not after Mom--"

"Things have changed, Mildred," Albert interrupted.

"It's Millie, Dad," Oliver snapped, "She hates being called Mildred."

"Son," Albert warned, and Millie knew Oliver was pushing his luck.

"Why would we stay with her?" Henry interrupted. "Why can't she come here?"

"She has several, uh, ravens that would be difficult to relocate," he explained.

Millie's blood went very cold. Had he just said ravens? Hadn't there just been a black bird watching her from her window this morning?

No, she shook the thought away. That had just been her imagination.

"How long will we have to stay there?" Millie asked and was surprised when Albert cleared his throat nervously.

"Just for the summer."

"The whole summer?!"

The table erupted into a flurry of protests. Millie had risen to her feet. Henry was having a full-blown tantrum, and Oliver was shouting words that most definitely would've had him expelled from school.

"Enough!" Albert shouted, his voice cracking like thunder.

The room fell silent.

Oliver shoved away from the table and stormed out of the room. Albert called after him, but the only reply was a slamming door.

"I don't want you to leave us," Henry said in a wobbly voice.

Albert's face softened.

"I know, Henry," he said, "But I think you'll like it. It'll be an adventure."

Henry seemed somewhat mollified by this, resuming his breakfast. Millie met her father's gaze and let every sense of betrayal she felt show on her face. Lifting her chin, she quietly excused herself from the table, unable to hold back her anger as she slammed her bedroom door.

It was barely a ten-minute walk to Overbrook School, the small Catholic school that their father had once attended. But today it felt more like a funeral procession.

They were neatly dressed in their uniforms complete with their blazers for the end of the year assembly. Millie walked hand in hand with Henry as Oliver angrily kicked rocks on the pavement beside them.

"I don't want to stay with Aunt Edith," Henry started.

"Yeah? Join the club," Oliver said waspishly.

Millie shot him a warning look.

"Whisper Hollow sounds like a fun place," she said encouragingly, "like something in a book."

"It sounds ridiculous," Oliver muttered.

"What's she like?" Henry asked.

In truth, Millie could barely recall the last time she'd seen Aunt Edith. It had been nearly five years, the day of their Mom's funeral. A day they never spoke about.

"I don't remember very much of her," she began, "But I know Mom liked her. She always said she was funny."

Oliver stiffened and Millie could see the tick of his clenched jaw.

"I promise we'll make it fun," she said, giving Henry's hand a reassuring squeeze.

There was a tangible hum of excitement when they arrived at school, students talking excitedly in the courtyard. The energy quickly infected Henry, who began bouncing towards his first grade teacher. Oliver left her quickly to join his classmates and Millie was relieved to see her best friend, Sophie Pham, waving to her from across the lawn.

With a steadying breath, she slid her too-large cat eyeglasses up her nose and began the dreaded journey past the junior high students.

"Oh look, it's Millie Poppins," said a loud voice.

Millie's cheeks turned scarlet as several boys laughed and she turned to see Jamie Sullivan flipping her bright blonde hair.

Jamie Sullivan was the most popular girl at Overbrook School. She was also the meanest girl Millie had ever met and had been making fun of the way she talked since the first grade.

Millie had spent so much time with her Mom when she was young that she'd picked up her English accent. Though it had faded over time, the nickname "Millie Poppins" hadn't.

"Why do you look like that?" Sophie asked, when Millie finally reached her. "Did Oliver do something again?"

Sophie Pham had been Millie's best friend for as long as she could remember. She was well-liked by everyone, and Millie understood why. Sophie was sweet, funny, and very pretty.

Millie proceeded to tell her everything about being sent off to stay with her estranged aunt.

"It might not be that bad," Sophie said reassuringly. "It could be fun."

"What won't be bad?" came a very breathless voice as a disheveled boy stumbled towards them.

Rory Fletcher was a round-faced boy with sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes. His parents were both lawyers and were very, very divorced. As a result, Rory split his time between two enormous houses and was constantly forgetting where he was supposed to be. Today, it seemed, he forgot his blazer.

"Oh no," he moaned, searching his bag helplessly.

"It's fine, Ror, I'm sure Sister Mary Catherine will have an extra one," Sophie said, reaching out to fix his tie and his cheeks turned scarlet.

Millie filled him in on the tale of her ruined summer, though with the lack of her previous gusto.

"I bet I could convince my dad to let me come visit you," he said seriously, his blue eyes brightening in earnest.

"I'd really like that," she said and Rory beamed.

"I wish I could come visit," Sophie sighed, "but we're spending the summer in San Francisco with my dad's family before my Mom has the baby."

"That sounds a lot more fun than going to Maine for the summer," Millie said and Sophie shook her head.

"It won't be. It'll be a whole month of answering questions about my grades and how I don't eat enough and why I don't speak more Vietnamese."

Sophie had a very large family with three younger brothers, a younger sister and a surprise baby on the way. Millie loved when they stayed with the Pham's. They had a beautiful house that always seemed to be filled with Sophie's relatives and more food than they could possibly eat. Millie often wondered if this is what her Mom's family would've been like if she'd kept in touch with any of her cousins in Gujarat.

At the sound of the first bell, they made their way to their homeroom and found their seats. The speaker overhead gave a high-pitched beep and the students all made the sign of the cross. Millie noticed Rory kept switching arms from the corner of her eye, and Sophie had to press her lips together to keep from laughing.

"What?" he hissed.

"It's the right arm," Sophie said through the side of her mouth, "it's always the right arm."

"I told you guys, I'm Episcopalian," he murmured.

"Do they have different right arms in the Episcopal church?" she snorted, and even Millie couldn't hold in her laugh at this.

"I know it's the last day of school," Sister Mary Catherine began, giving Millie and Sophie a pointed loo, "but I still expect you all on your best behavior during the end of the year Mass."

There were a few squeaks among the desks as the students stepped in line for Sister Mary Catherine to do uniform checks.

Rory, whose face was growing redder by the minute, stepped forward with his head bowed. Smiling softly, Sister reached out and handed him a blazer. It was too large and very wrinkled, but Rory looked so relieved he might faint.

Sister Mary Catherine had started teaching at the school when Father Patrick, her brother, became Vice Principal and was Millie's favorite teacher in the entire school. She was much younger than the other sisters, but still managed to hold command over her classroom despite not being very strict. Millie suspected that this was because nearly all of the students liked her.

As they filed into the church, Millie caught a glimpse of Oliver seated next to Ben Pham. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him showing Ben something in his pocket.

She nudged Sophie who, noticing her brother, seemed to realize the same thing and gave Ben a piercing glare that was eerily reminiscent of Mrs. Pham.

"They're up to something," Millie whispered, and Sophie nodded in agreement.

The organ gave a loud rumble, and the students stood. Millie still kept her eyes on Oliver as the opening hymn began.