To start, I do like 'A Magpie Witching' as the title. It has an air of mystique about it that seems rather fitting so far.
Anyhow, on my first reading I made some initial notes and would like to quickly run through those.
So, in order:
- I'm guessing that the setting is somewhere rather French-esque judging by the language. In that regard, I'm guessing Cantiaci might be some sort of French title. I'm not sure of any significance it has yet to play, but as a reader, I was rather confused by the usage of the term.
- Mon oisollon. I'm assuming it's a similar case as above. Is this correct?
- I found that especially in the beginning, there was a fair amount of what seemed to be overly lengthy and detailed descriptions. In lieu with my next point, I'm beginning to guess there may be some significance to the plot with this. If it is, it's a smart way to start teasing that bit of information. However, the sentences still drag out to almost become a bit of a bore. I suggest revising them into something more concise, either by breaking them either into smaller sentences or by dropping some of the unnecessary detail altogether.
- I noticed a certain emphasis on smells, and curiously enough, colour being referenced to by smell. I liked this little detail.
- Momentarily, I was rather curious about Gallics. I was pleased to see that it was swiftly addressed.
- That paragraph about the spark, well, sparked my interest ('scuse the pun). You've done a rather fluid job at introducing some of the mechanics of the magic of this world. However, I've yet to decide if it's too much to take in yet. I'll try to draw a conclusion on that before I finish the review.
- The note about sidhe and half-sidhe acts as a hook for the plot. I due hope the nature of this race(?) is explored in more detail soon.
- I greatly enjoyed your characterisation, especially of the narrator who comes across as snarky and a little bit unhinged but overall rather likeable.
- Beyond that, I'm still unsure of what to expect from the story. I'm inclined to hope for something told partly in perspective of the villain's side of things. I'm also still looking for something to really make the magic of the world stand out against the standard witches getup. The whole blood thing does begin to do that, though.
Anyhow, onto a breakdown of some particular paragraphs:
May as well start at the very beginning.
The Cantiaci had been fidgety all day. I thought it was because of ale or fleas, but a little after sunset, when the hut was filled with shadows and the golden firelight was flickering up the pale dirty walls, there was a knock on the door. She made a mad dash forward, hauled the door open and dragged in our visitor before I’d even got to my feet.
The second sentence is an example of sentences that drag on too long. Sentence length, whilst often varying, tends to have a strong relation with pace. (here's a link to a good quote about sentence rhythm that I've always found rather helpful: http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/373814- ... more-words ) Long sentences can also become hard to follow and start to cause confusion.
Otherwise, an interesting introduction. The use of 'Cantiaci' certainly gained my attention.
The next couple lines of dialogue begin to paint a good picture in terms of characterisation.
‘They did not,’ the lady said. She was looking around the hut, studying it, taking in the smoke-blackened roof beams, the half-skinned rabbit swinging from its heels in front of the fire, the patches in the walls where the clay was starting to crumble and the wattle show through. Then she saw me, crouched on the sooty hearthstones. I felt her look at the chain that ran from my collar to a ring set in the wall, and then at my dirty feet and arms.
I won't address the too long descriptions every time they appear for the sake of tautology. Anyhow, the unconventional use of senses such as 'I felt her look' have certainly sparked my interest by this point. The longer sentences aside, you've done a nice job at sneaking in other details (mainly about the characters' appearances), rather than shoving them in the readers face.
I grinned at the lady, showing my teeth. ‘Do you have an appointment?’
This is where I begin to get the impression that the narrator is either aggressive, animalistic, or a bit unhinged.
The lady raised her eyebrows. She moved further into the hut, and I caught her scent: heavy musky perfume that tasted like fruit and flowers, dust from the road clinging to her long brown cloak, a faint tang of salt in the damp hem of her emerald-green dress. She must have come on the ferry, and walked to the hut on foot. ‘And who are you, mon oisillon?’
This is where my curiosity on the emphasis on physical senses rather than sight begins. Our narrator now appears to be rather perceptive. This continues a couple of paragraph's along with the velvet skirts.
I found the next part about the name/s rather amusing. I will admit to having a short laugh at Jane's (I'm beginning to question the narrator's reliability and am still unsure of her name) listing of names. However, it does make me wonder about the relevance of a name for this character. Is the name something given to the narrator willy-nilly?
I knew that Ressasser was the Gallic court, where the golden rich king lived. She didn’t sound Gallic, despite dropping Gallic words in here and there. ‘Why do you live there if you’re not Gallic?’
And here begins the worldbuilding. So far the names seem foreign and insignificant. I've yet to have been given a reason to make much note of them yet. There's still a lot of mystery about the lady who has come to visit. Should I be making note of the lack of capitalisation of 'golden rich king'. It feels like the kind of title that would be capitalised. However, if it is purposefully so, then I guess I can infer that the narrator doesn't have much respect and / or care for this king.
The Cantaci's response to the guest's questioning of the collar and cruel treatment is interesting. I did enjoy Jane's comment about the silverware, though.
The lady folded her hands in her lap. ‘My apologies, Maid Barton.’ She had lots of rings on her fingers, blue and red and green. They sparkled in the candlelight, and I wanted to hold them and sniff them and see if they smelled as pretty as they looked.
Maid Barton? So the Cantiaci is a Maid? That seems like an unusual title considering the way the character's been presented so far. On a technical note, I faced some slight confusion on who wore the rings, thinking it was Maid Barton who was being referenced.
The sight of the bowl made my stomach jump unpleasantly, and I knew what was going to happen next. I began to slink away from the table, but the Cantiaci grabbed the chain and hauled me back. The lady frowned slightly, but her magpie eyes were fixed on the bowl and the stone.
Nothing major here, but I do like that note about magpie eyes, especially considering the title. If the plot has a strong relation to magpies, whether actually, or symbolically, it would make the title especially fitting.
‘This is obsidian,’ the Cantiaci said, placing her palm over the stone. ‘Seeing-stone. It is the devil’s eye, the moon-bruise, the eternal well; it clung to the walls of the cave beneath the Vortigern’s foundations, and was smoked and charred by dragon fire. It is black magic.’
I will point out that this is one of the parts where the description feels overbearing.
‘A rainbow,’ I said. ‘Magic is magic is magic is magic, and every colour smells different.’
If I had to pick a favourite line in the entirety of this chapter, it'd be this one.
The Cantiaci grabbed my arm. I had to stand up so she didn’t sprain my elbow. She slapped my arm down on the table and forced it around so the underside was skyward. The lady made a little noise at the sight of all the scabs and scars there, and I met her eyes and grinned, my heart beating in my ears.
The part about the sprained elbow appears to be written in a possibly unnecessary passive voice. I suggest changing to 'I had to stand up to avoid spraining my elbow.' Anyhow, the narrator's reaction to the events continues to build my theory that they are a bit unhinged.
The next part - the part about blood - created a strong atmosphere for me. This is where the mystique really begins to come into play.
The blood instantly welled up, and she clamped her hand over the cut.
I do have a mild nitpick with the comma before 'and' here. It is entirely unnecessary and only serves to break the flow of the sentence. The same in the paragraph after the next. Commas before 'and' (oxford commas) are mostly only used when listing things, otherwise a comma and 'and' have practically the same purpose. Then it's just a matter of redundancy and sentence flow.
In that moment, like always, I had a brief second of stillness. It was as though I was looking down a very dark well, but the well was inside myself, and at the bottom of the well, deep inside me, I saw a spark. It was glowing, refusing to die out, and it gave me the courage to open my eyes. I saw the Cantiaci, her teeth bared, her lips moving slowly as though underwater, and I saw the magpie lady staring at me with her bright gaze. She met my eyes, and in the stillness, I grinned at her. She was startled, and I smelled her apprehension, but she didn’t look away.
And here, my nitpick is with 'inside myself' and 'deep inside me', mostly with the latter as the 'deep inside' part has already been thoroughly implied. In relation to the rest of the paragraph, I am forming questions about the spark. Does everyone have a spark? If not, why is Jane so special to have a spark?
‘I drained her,’ the Cantiaci said. Her voice sounded stronger, almost vibrating like a struck bell. ‘She’s half-sidhe, the only one in Lloegria, so she’s magic through and through. But I take her power. It’s mine.’
This begins to explain things about the spark. So a magic race?
‘Whisht, girl, enough.’
Is 'Whisht' a typo or a bit of onomatopoeia?
With all this witching and power-collection, what is this power used for?
However, where did the Cantiaci's bloody palm come from? Did she get some of Jane's blood on her?
The singing was an interesting part of the magic. When I first read singing and combing, my initial thoughts surrounded the film Tangles, but I'd like to see how this magic plays out.
The lady stared at the stone in her palm. I couldn’t see the surface, but I saw a faint reflected glow begin on the lady’s face, pink and green and white light chasing over her features. She drew in a long breath and her eyes widened as she stared down, but her song didn’t waver.
Is this what the magic is used for? I'm still not entirely clear on the matter. I would like to know what she saw, however.
In summation and conclusion:
I've decided it wasn't too much information on the magic, if anything more on the vague side. I will say that I am intrigued. Besides, the sentence length / description, grammar and such is practically on point. Your strongest point so far seems to be your characters. Despite moderate curiosity, not too much has emerged in terms of what the plot is going to be. I'm certainly still guessing. Pacing was fairly well done; not too slow except for some descriptions. I was sceptical of quality at first, expecting something a lot more slow and long-winded, but I was pleasantly surprised and do look forward to reading the rest.
- noni
I really loved it! This place is super well envisioned, as are these characters and their relationships to one another. Though you don't bury us in the details, we can tell you know exactly what you're talking about (authority is a wonderful thing that does so much work without looking like it). That's the point of world building, to know the world enough so that even though you don't include every detail about it, it feels big because you're writing with such authority.
It spoke a lot about the scene. 
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Points: 4980
Reviews: 96
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