Have you ever wondered why Jack and Jill needed that pail of water in the first place? Or how Sleeping Beauty managed to prick her finger despite a royal order to destroy every spindle in the kingdom?
Fairy tales and nursery rhymes have given us some of the most iconic characters and images in storytelling; think Cinderella’s glass slipper or Jack’s oversized beanstalk. But what about the in-between moments? The ones that never made it to the page?
In this enchanting micro-collection of short stories, award-winning author Ekta R. Garg explores the untold scenes between the lines of some of our most loved tales. Find out what the Wicked Witch of the East was doing in the road before Dorothy’s house fell on her. Learn where Goldilocks came from. Meet the conmen who convinced the emperor he had new clothes and more.
Rediscover the wit, heart, and magic of the classics, and see them as you’ve never seen them before in The Witch’s Apprentice and Other Stories.
Have you ever wondered why Jack and Jill needed that pail of water in the first place? Or how Sleeping Beauty managed to prick her finger despite a royal order to destroy every spindle in the kingdom?
Fairy tales and nursery rhymes have given us some of the most iconic characters and images in storytelling; think Cinderella’s glass slipper or Jack’s oversized beanstalk. But what about the in-between moments? The ones that never made it to the page?
In this enchanting micro-collection of short stories, award-winning author Ekta R. Garg explores the untold scenes between the lines of some of our most loved tales. Find out what the Wicked Witch of the East was doing in the road before Dorothy’s house fell on her. Learn where Goldilocks came from. Meet the conmen who convinced the emperor he had new clothes and more.
Rediscover the wit, heart, and magic of the classics, and see them as you’ve never seen them before in The Witch’s Apprentice and Other Stories.
Do you remember the story about the house that fell on the Wicked Witch of the East? The one where the girl who came out of the house took the witch’s lovely silver shoes and went on her adventures down the road of yellow bricks? Well, enough time has passed that I believe I can confess.
It’s my fault the house fell on the witch in the first place.
She was there, in the middle of the road, because we were arguing. And we were arguing because I was asking—no, that’s not right. I was demanding to be freed from the Spell of Inhibition so I could complete my apprenticeship. The witch was the ruler of Munchkinland and the head of the High Council of Witches. Before my apprenticeship started, I had chosen her to be my mentor.
She was also my cousin.
We had been arguing about the completion of my apprenticeship, which required an act of altruism assigned to me by the High Council. Once I completed the task and the Council deemed it pure, proving I would only use my magic for good, the High Witches would lift the Spell of Inhibition that prevented the free use of magic for everything. After three years of training, I still hadn’t gotten used to the physical sensation of the spell; it made my skin itch in a way that made me want to shed it so I could emerge as a full-fledged witch.
For weeks, however, the High Council had ignored my repeated requests for a task. Anyone I asked referred me to someone else, and after the fourth or fifth request they all told me to speak to Cousin. When I got my chance on that day, in the middle of the road, I told Cousin in a firm voice that the time had come. I had proven myself and knew I was ready to practice magic as she did.
She began laughing in that cruel, high voice she had, and I knew. Even though the sound crushed my heart, in that moment I knew she had no intention of helping me. I thrust out my wand, ready to show her what I’d learned, fighting against the fiery sensation burning across my hand and wrist as the Spell of Inhibition warned against doing magic. In that moment, I heard a rushing sound, looked up, and saw the house. I jumped out of the way just before it…well, you know.
I assumed Cousin had also escaped, but then I looked back and saw her feet sticking out from under the house. My heart started fluttering faster than I could breathe. I scrambled to stand then ran back toward the tavern at the edge of the village where we had met to talk. A few munchkins walking past the tavern stared at me with curious looks, but I bypassed them completely, dove behind the squat building, and cast a spell on myself to transport me back to my cottage.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. In order to understand my tale, I’ll have to go back to the beginning so you’ll know properly how I ended up where I am now. So you’ll understand why running left me wracked by guilt…but also cradled by relief.
*****
People called her the Wicked Witch of the East, although she hated that name. It made her sad, though she tried not to show it. And it wasn’t her name by birth, but it was the name Cousin eventually earned.
Ah, yes. We’re related. The witch’s mother and my own were sisters, although there were a great many siblings between them. When I came along, the witch had already begun talking of ruling Munchkinland. She was young when she began her campaign, not quite 17, but she told everyone of her destiny. When she achieved her goal, I was 10 and she 27.
I’ll admit it: her accomplishment impressed me. Deeply. I understood on a fundamental level then what power was, and I knew I must stay close to her to learn how to obtain it. I wanted to be just like her: self-assured. Powerful. Someone capable of making the world bend to her will.
Cousin typically didn’t mind—much—when I spent time with her. She usually treated me well. Yes, she did shove me into puddles occasionally, and I know now this is especially cruel because she would conjure the puddles first and then push me into them. But she always made it seem like a joke, so when she laughed I laughed. Surely, I thought, someone so much older and more experienced wouldn’t do such a thing out of malice.
Oh, how I wish I could travel back to knock some sense into my silly, hapless self, but the spells of time I know won’t let me do that.
In those days, I simply worshipped her. Her striking looks, with her light blue eyes and raven black hair, made her stand out. My own mousy brown locks always hung sad and thin in the looking glass. Once she conquered Munchkinland, she took to wearing mostly shades of blue that made her eyes pierce even the fiercest person—or munchkin—who defied her. If there were any such left. Once Cousin gained her position, not many people were allowed to stay in Munchkinland who didn’t first swear fealty to her.
She did allow me to stay, however, and at the time it thrilled me to receive any attention from her. She was so busy ruling Munchkinland, overseeing the proper training of the munchkins so they would build her palatial home from the strongest bricks and hunt and fish for the best game for her table, or leading meetings of the High Council in the Hall of Witches. I couldn’t believe she made time for me.
I remember with stark clarity the day I chose her as my mentor for my apprenticeship to join the Guild. As I rode in the carriage from my parents’ small cottage to her refuge at the far end of the capital, the clop-clop-clop of the horses became the thudding of my heart. I had chosen my finest dress; its color was a faded yellow, to be sure, and I had mended it more than a handful of times, but Mother used to say it looked lovely on me. It was the last dress made by Mother I owned, and I always wore it to the most important occasions despite receiving Cousin’s fifth-best dresses from time to time. Those clothes I stored in Mother’s old, creaky trunk for what I hoped would be my new life as a full witch.
Hiding them also kept them from the eyes of the past in the cottage. Mother and Father never approved of Cousin’s campaign nor of her ruling the land. I loved them, but I wanted Cousin’s approval more. Although Father and Mother didn’t live to see me pursue my application to the Guild’s learning institute or to pledge their hard-earned coin to it if I was admitted, I didn’t want to disturb their souls, if they lingered, by the presence of Cousin’s clothes.
The day was fine, as it almost always is in Munchkinland. The land there is lush and green, the soil rich. Crops grow easily, and the water in the brooks and river flows fresh and crisp. Munchkinland doesn’t have the gnawing winds of the north or the scorching sun of the south; instead, the climate is temperate most days except when a light rain falls. The easy climate makes for an easy life, which makes for people at ease in general and an easy campaign to conquer them.
When I arrived at the home of the High Witch—Cousin insisted everyone call her that, even me if we were in the presence of others—my heart continued pounding. Despite the kind weather, my skin prickled with heat. I wished I had brought my fan, but then I remembered it was broken in two places and it wouldn’t do to arrive in Cousin’s—the High Witch’s—presence with a damaged fan. She didn’t like broken or ugly things, she said. She only wanted beauty and perfection around her.
She met me in her study, glancing at me only after I’d coughed the third time.
“So you’ve made the decision for your mentor, have you?” Cousin said, returning her gaze to some parchments on her desk.
I couldn’t believe it. I was in her study at last, and despite an overly fussy munchkin who had flit around the room for several minutes with a goose feather duster before Cousin finally chased her out, I was alone with Cousin to make my request. I’d never had any siblings, and Mother and Father were gone. She was the only family I had left. I wanted to impress her and make her proud of me.
“Yes, Cousin,” I said, fighting my voice so it wouldn’t tremble. “I would like you to be my mentor.”
She looked up at me then and arched an eyebrow. Her midnight blue gown cinched at the waist and the cuffs of her sleeves. The high neck spilled over her collarbone in a lacy material, making her light blue eyes stand out even more. Her personal crest sat above her heart, a sky blue four-pointed star with an elaborate “M” on it for Munchkinland, of course. Ghosting over the “M” was an “E.” Cousin always said it was for “East” to designate the location of her realm, but the same people who gave her the name of her fame said she just liked the reminder of who ruled.
The High Witch continued to stare at me for a moment, and then her face relaxed into a smile.
“As you wish,” Cousin said, and she dropped the parchment in her hand and folded her hands on top of it. “I will be your mentor.”
My heart exploded with love and gratitude. “Oh, thank you, Cousin! It’s such an honor to think—”
She picked up a small handbell and shook it. A somber tinkling sounded, and she put the bell back down on the desk then waved me away. I kept babbling all the way back through the door, even as the same female munchkin from before appeared and tugged me down the long, dark corridor, through the front door, and locked it behind me.
The abrupt dismissal left me nonplussed yet happy. Cousin would be my mentor as I entered the Witch’s Guild! She would oversee my training of spells, potions, and charms, of traveling and transforming via conventional means of magic, and of understanding its history through the ages and its purpose and uses now. She would teach me everything she knew so I could become like her.
Little did I know that her teaching would leave an indelible mark on me.
Fairy tales have become a staple in our lives. We grow up watching princesses find and marry their true love at a ridiculously young age. Stunning dresses. Magical transformations. Catchy tunes. Extraordinary showdowns between good versus evil. Not all fairytales are rainbows and happy tunes, and that's where the famous Brothers Grimm come in. They embrace the darker side of tales of old. Over the years, authors have tackled putting a new spin on these well-known stories and characters. Ekta R. Garg takes readers down a rabbit hole where they ask us to rethink famous stories with questions not posed before. "What was the witch doing in the road in the first place?" "Why did Jack and Jill need that pail of water?" "Where did Goldilocks come from?" These questions and a few more make you reexamine stories of old before reading Ekta's mastery of words.
The Witch's Apprentice and Other Stories takes readers down the yellow brick road, introduces them to a pipe musician, a thieves' guild, a hill where Jack and Jill fetch a pail of water, and the land of talking bears. These familiar settings are about to transform as Ekta, the master storyteller, intertwines the lives of infamous characters, creating a web of storylines that will twist your brain like a pretzel. Every step the characters take, and every transformation is not just plausible but will have you asking, why didn't I think of that first? The unexpected twists in these stories will keep you on the edge of your seat, eager to uncover what happens next.
My favorite shocking twist came in the first short story, The Witch's Apprentice. It was not that the Wicked Witch of the East had a cousin who was also their apprentice. It wasn't that the famous witch didn't like their unflattering title, and it actually made them sad when someone called them it. No, the mind-blowing moment came when we discovered who the apprentice eventually became. You'll want to know the answer, so get the book!
The inside look at the conmen who tricked the emperor into buying 'new clothes' was mildly interesting. However, the dark outcome of Jack and Jill's story was a twist I did not see coming, and I absolutely loved it! Rounding out the (5) short story collection was The Beauty Before She Sleeps. Once again, the writer weaved unrelated famous characters into a solid story that I would never suspect would meet, and they did it brilliantly.
The Witch's Apprentice and Other Stories offers readers a new perspective on famous tales. It will leave you scratching your head, not out of frustration, but because every step makes complete sense. I recommend reading this fantastic collection of short works, and I hope there are more stories in the works.
4.5 out of 5 stars