White Witch, Black Magic

Am I imagining things? Or is the queen really this angry?

“Who does she think she is?” roars the king. “I’ll have her head for this, I sw—”

“You will not.” Margaret’s voice is so icy calm that Louis stops his ranting.

“Excuse me?”

“You will not harm that girl.”

“I am the king. I rule this country.”

“I am your queen. I have just as much right to these decisions as you do. She will not be harmed.”

“She’s a liar and a criminal.”

“What has she stolen? And as to being a liar, well, she is the only person in that court to have ever been fully honest with you.”

“She is a liar.”

“She is not.”

“That necklace will transfer its power to me. I know it can. She knows how to do it, too.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No! She is innocent. Nothing more than a sweet little girl with an understanding of magic and a musical gift. She has done nothing wrong and you will not harm her.”

Magical and musical? I think. Nyra?

“That girl—”

“Came here to help. Leave her be.”

Or else. The queen doesn’t say it, but the words hang in the air anyways.

The king glares at her for a moment, then sighs. “Fine. You’ll get your way in the end. You always do.”

“Only when I’m right.”

“You’re always ‘right’!” Louis wails. He puts air quotes around ‘right’. Margaret pats his arm but doesn’t argue.

“There now dear, you made the correct decision. Come back inside and have some hot coco.”

“It’s too hot for that.”

“Come have some just the same. It’ll make you feel better. It always does.”

“Argh, maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am, dear.”

Margaret leads Louis back in the doors. They are both considerably calmer. I swoop down to my friends and transform into a girl. My feet are a few inches off the ground, so I fall the rest of the way, making Bella jump.

“What was that about?” she asks.

“I think Nyra came to visit. And it sounded like Louis wasn’t pleased with what she had to say.”

“Is the wedding still on? Even if the power won’t transfer?” Jake wonders.

“I don’t know. Probably. It’s still a good way to forge an alliance. And Alex will need a queen eventually. Avaysia could never be with Wren, and Alex would never be permitted to marry Arista.”

“That is so unfair,” Bella says.

“Life is unfair,” I tell her.

A flute sounds. The music is barely audible. It’s like the wind, more a feeling than something you actually hear. I recognize it as Nyra’s. I can hear the message it carries.

Emma, it whispers. I am here. Meet me. We must talk. Come to the edge of the forest.

The strain dies away. As I turn to chase after it, Jake catches my wrist. I look at him, contemplating becoming a falcon and flying away. But I couldn’t do that to Jake. I sigh.

“What?”

“I don’t know what you heard in that music—”

“It was Nyra. She wants me to meet her by the woods.”

“And if it wasn’t Nyra?”

“You’re still on about that Jardaine thing, aren’t you? This was Nyra, I know it.”

“How? How can you know that? Jardaine is a witch. She can make you think things you wouldn’t normally.”

“This wasn’t Nyra!”

“It wasn’t Nyra?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. It is Nyra, not Jardaine.” I throw up my hands in frustration. Well, one of them. Jake is still clutching the other. “You are confusing me,” I tell him.

“If I can confuse you so easily, imagine how fast Jardaine could do it.”

“It’s not a trick,” I say. All the fight goes out of me and I lean forwards, resting my forehead against Jake’s chest.

“How can you know that?” he asks again, wrapping his arms around me.

“I don’t know. I just do.”

“And I just know that it’s a terrible idea for you to off to the forest—again—by yourself.”

“Well, then why don’t you come with me?”

Jake lays his cheek on the top of my head, thinking. I can almost hear the gears turning and the click when he reaches a decision.

“Alright,” he says. “If I can come, you can go.”

“I want to come, too,” Bella adds.

“We’ll make it a group mission,” Wren decides.

We walk up the stairs to the balcony.

“It really is a pretty view from up here,” I say.

“It’d be prettier if Avaysia weren’t about to be married here.”

“Here?” I ask.

“That’s what Alex said. Avaysia got to pick the spot, and she chose here,” Wren tells me.

I have a feeling that she’s going to spend a lot of time here once we’re all gone,” Bella says.

I stare at the beautiful scene with a heavy heart. I can almost feel smoke pouring out of my ears as I try to think my way out.

“C’mon. Are we going to go find Nyra or what?” Jake finally says.

He leads us back up to the castle. I’m planning on snagging a few rolls from the kitchen as we walk through the castle, but when one of the girls sees me coming, she tosses me a basket of bread. We munch as we make our way to the woods. My brain is still furiously trying to come up with an escape plan that won’t endanger my kingdom or any of my friends.

We reach the edge of the forest. No one appears to be there. I leap into the air, transforming into a falcon. I swoop through the trees, looking for her. Nyra is perched in the highest branch of an old oak tree. Her eyes are closed. I think she’s asleep.

I settle myself on her knee, squawking at her to wake up. Her mismatched eyes flutter open. “Hello, pretty little bird.” She lifts her flute and sings a message to me, not knowing I can understand her spoken words. You must be far from home. I have never seen a bird of your kind in this area. What are you doing here?

Message. I think back. We’re here.

Nyra looks puzzled. What do you mean, we are?

I flutter off to another branch, one that is big enough to support my weight. I position myself so that when I become human, I won’t fall. I realize I’m getting better at this. The transition is much easier this time. I barely have to think of what I want to happen before I’m sitting on the limb, legs swinging and fingers resting on the trunk.

“Emma?” Nyra is shocked. “How did you do that?”

“You’ve missed a lot,” I tell her. “Why are you here?”

“We have much to relate to one another. Would you like to speak your story first, or second?”

“My friends are below. They’d like to hear your story, too. C’mon.” I stand. “Watch this. I’ve been practicing.”

I leap off the branch, hurling myself into the air. I flip myself over as I fall—once, twice, thrice. After the third rotation my wings snap open, pulling me out of the dive. I circle around my friends once before landing.

“You are such a show off,” Jake says.

“I know. But I only do it because it’s fun.”

“Where’s Nyra?” Bella asks.

“She’s coming. It’ll take her a little longer to get down than it took me. After all, she can’t grow wings and fly down.”

Nyra is a fast climber, though, and she stands before us only a minute later. “That was most interesting,” she says. “You have learned much since we last met, Emma.”

“I had to.”

I tell her all that happened after we left the Land of the Unicorns. She isn’t surprised that Kitara turned out to be bad.

“I warned Crayonta not to send one so new. He insisted she would be perfect for the job.”

“Well, you were right.”

“He was too. She was perfect for the task she was set to. That is why she almost tricked you.”

“Almost.”

“Yes. Almost, but not quite.”

She pays no mind to the veela and dismisses Bella’s extensive reading history, but perks up at the mention of Jardaine at the ball. I’ve edited out Six Little Daughters Are We and I gloss over collapsing after Jardaine left. She’s more interested in my fight against the black magic.

“So you are a White Witch,” she says. “The very first.”

“Hang on,” Bella interrupts. “The first?”

Nyra nods. “All others with magical powers have been either killed or turned evil. Sometimes the darkness in their own hearts wins out. Sometimes another witch draws it out of them. Because the dark is formed from one’s own desires, it is very difficult to resist. Emma is the first to prove it possible.”

“Wow.” Wren looks impressed. “Way to go, Emma.”

“Thanks.”

“Where is Avaysia?” Nyra asks. “Surely she would want to be here?”

“She’s getting her head measured.”

“What ever for?”

“A veil. She’s marrying Alex tomorrow.”

Nyra ivory skin pales even more. “No. She cannot.”

“She has no choice,” Bella moans.

“There is always a choice.”

“She has to marry Alex or bring war onto her kingdom,” Wren says.

“It’s four lives up against hundreds. Who could choose the war?” Jake adds.

“Four lives?” Nyra asks.

So Bella ends up telling her about the complicated emotions surrounding the archer, the prince and princess, and the stable master’s daughter. Nyra looks as though her head might pop off.

“She cannot,” Nyra repeats. “The necklace will not transfer its power. I have already informed the king and queen of this. Then I fled here, for he was threatening to part my head and body.”

“Yeah, we heard about that,” I say. “Margaret forbade him from harming you, but I still think running was a smart idea.”

“I am rather attached to my head,” Nyra agrees.

I smile. The others do too, but Nyra doesn’t seem to get why what she said is funny.

“What?” she asks. “Why are you smiling at me?”

“You’re attached to your head. Physically and emotionally,” Bella tries to explain.

Nyra stares blankly.

“Never mind,” I tell her. “How do we save Avaysia?”

“She could refuse. They cannot force her to speak the binding vows, else they will not be binding.”

“That would mean war between Flumen and Regnum!” Jake protests.

“Not necessarily. If the queen refused to allow her husband to kill me, a girl she does not know, why would she allow the king to wage war against her sister’s home?”

“That’s an awfully slim hope we’d be going on, though. Can we really risk everything on how close Margaret and Dana are?” I ask.

“Aside from the queen’s wrath, the king would also be forced to send his armies through the Sylvian Woods. Though they might not have witches chasing after them, it will still be a long journey. Regnum would have plenty of time to prepare for war. Word travels far faster than soldiers.”

“I suppose,” I say. “But how are we going to escape with Avaysia? Just steal a couple of horses and ride off into the sunset?”

Nyra closes her eyes. “I will allow you to devise a plan. I have done my part. I must go home.”

“Hold up. When did you get here?”

“Just after the last rising of the sun.”

“You would have had to leave the unicorns just after we did to move that fast. But you didn’t, did you?”

“Nay. I found a fast way to traverse the land. Far more dangerous, yes, but faster.”

“How?”

Nyra unsheathes her dagger. “This.”

“Your knife?”

“This is not simply a dagger. It is made from a material called Star Silver. It is not of this world.”

“That’s not from Earth,” Bella says. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“It is not of this world nor Bella’s,” Nyra agrees. “I know not how it came to be here, nor how it came into my possession. I have had it as long as I can recall. I have always known it cuts through most everything, excepting its sheath. But as of late, I have been researching it.”

“And?” we prompt.

“I was wrong. It doesn’t cut through most anything. It slices everything.”

“Everything?” I ask.

“Everything. Rocks, diamonds, even time and space themselves.”

“Oh. My. Gods.”

“Gods?” Nyra cocks her head. “There are many of them in your world?”

“Well, it depends on your religion. My parents and I believe in God, one god, capital ‘g’. But, well, I read too much. I picked that up from a book series about the Greek gods.”

As usual, Bella’s comments make no sense. But I’m too interested in this Star Silver to attempted figuring her out.

“How does it work?” I ask.

“I just slash while focusing on what exactly I want to happen. It has been working so far, but I know not if it shall always cooperate. That is why I am always careful to wear this.” Nyra touches the circlet on her head.

“You wore that before,” Jake says. “What’s so special about it now?”

“This is made of Moon Stone, the same material Avaysia’s necklace was crafted from. The gem in it is the same as the gem in my circlet.”

I remember Nyra saying she helped craft Avaysia’s necklace. Thinking back to when Nyra and I first met, I recall noticing that the gem was chipped and that the back of her circlet was worn down. Did Nyra take the materials for Avaysia necklace directly from her own circlet?

Nyra seems to read my mind. “Yes. That necklace was once apart of this.” She touches the weathered band of silver again. “I knew it had protection powers when I first carved out the necklace, intending to help Avaysia. But I knew not how potent these powers are. These materials, Moon Stone and Star Silver, are beyond what anyone might imagine. It is my belief that, because they are so strong, there is little of them. In either this world or any other.”

“That’s some pretty powerful stuff,” Wren says.

“Indeed.”

“Wait…” Bella seems to be mulling something over. “You say your dagger can cut through time and space?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever used that power before?”

Nyra must realize what Bella is getting at, because she smiles and dips her head. “Twice. Today was the first time I ever initiated the Rift knowing what would happen.”

“And you did it accidentally the previous time? Is that how I was sucked into this world?”

“I know naught for certain, but I suspect so. I apologize for using magic without preparing for the results. Everyone who meddles with magic knows never to test things on a whim.”

“Sorry? Coming here is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Sure, I’ve almost died a couple of times, but the people who befriended me made it all worth it.”

“Stop it, Bella,” Jake says. “You could fry an egg on my face.”

She laughs. “It’s true!”

“The egg frying or the best friends ever?” I ask.

“Both.”

Suddenly, a thought dawns on me. “Nyra, has anyone owned that dagger before you?”

“I know not. Why?”

“Well, my father has books that are written in French, which is a language from Bella’s world. What if someone opened a portal before and a French person fell through? His language might’ve spread just enough to stick around after he was gone.”

“Mayhaps.”

Bella taps her chin thoughtfully. “You know, in history class, we did projects on people who disappeared mysteriously. I did mine on this French guy, Jacques Vergés. He was a lawyer, I think. He disappeared for almost ten years in the 1970s. He never told anyone where he was and all sightings went unconfirmed.”

“Did he speak French?” I ask.

“This is unimportant,” Nyra interrupts. “Princess Avaysia is to be married on the morrow, and neither bride nor groom are happy. There must be some way to stop this. Can you not save the stories for later and plan a rescue?”

“What are we supposed to do?” I ask. “Waltz in there and politely ask them not to declare war on Regnum then run off with Avaysia?”

Jake rolls his eyes, but Bella is smiling.

“What?” Wren questions her.

“I have a great plan. Listen.”

We bunch around her and she shares her idea. An idea so insane, so crazily impossible, that it might actually work.

l l l

’mdresses Her hooped skirt encircles her from the waist down, bouncing with every step. The dress is all white lace and silk, delicately spun, like spider threads. The train stretches behind her, held up by Victoria, Natalie, and Maria. Lyra and Rose walk before her, scattering rose petals across the grass.

Avaysia takes another step in her white high heels. I can see her taught muscles beneath the tightly fitted bodice. The pearls embroidered along the neckline rise and fall with her chest. The knuckles of the fingers curled around her rose and lily bouquet are white. Her left arm is wrapped around Wren’s right. He’s holding her awkwardly because of the long, trailing sleeves. The lacey white veil flutters with her rapid breathing. Layers of lace fall from her elaborately styled hair to her hips. The portion covering her face is just a single netted piece, barely reaching beneath her chin.

Wren and Avaysia start up the steps. They aren’t climbing the set with the platform halfway up. Instead, Wren leads Avaysia up a much wider set of stair coming off the other side of the balcony. The royal family is up on the huge veranda, along with the priest and several other prestigious guests—including Jake, Bella, and me.

Avaysia reaches the top step. I tug down the hem of my powder blue gown, hoping the pants and boots aren’t visible beneath it. The gown is really two pieces: a shirt and a long skirt. I plan to rip the skirt off when we rescue Avaysia. If I’m going to crash a wedding, there’s no way I’m doing it in a dress. Bella’s outfit is much the same; hers is red.

Wren walks Avaysia to Alex. With a curt nod and a forced smile, Avaysia changes hands. Traditionally, the father gives his daughter away, but Wren has taken Dominic’s place. Avaysia and Alex stand hand in hand before the priest.

He opens his book and begins a long spiel about love and life. I tune him out. Watching the guests is far more interesting. One woman is completely ignoring everyone else. She’s studying her image on anything and everything reflective. A man in the back of the group is transfixed by the clouds. Queen Margaret sits on her throne, sobbing quietly into a handkerchief. I wonder if they’re tears of joy or sorrow.

I notice that Alex keeps glancing towards the roof of the palace. The part of the palace attached to the balcony has a low roof, allowing people the next level up to enjoy the view. Perched on the roof, hunkered down in the shadows, I spot Arista. She must not have been invited to the wedding. I don’t see her family.

Alex’s eyes seem to be asking: What are you doing here?

I think she winks at him. Has she somehow found out about the plan to rescue Vay? Or has she concocted a scheme of her own? I suspect the latter. This could get messy.

I take a deep breath. Jake catches my hand and squeezes it. I think he means the gesture to be reassuring, but it feels more like a nervous twitch. I squeeze back, then release his hand. I force myself to focus on the bride and groom.

They’re finally nearing the end. It’s time for Alex to de-veil his bride. Then they will exchange vows, kiss, and live happily ever after. Supposedly. Wren, Alex, Avaysia, and Arista have all been putting on a good act. I wonder how many of the guests really believe that the prince and princess will have a happy ending.

Alex turns Avaysia towards him then lets go of her hand. She wraps it around the other one. The poor flowers are starting to look a bit strangled. Alex carefully lifts the fabric that covers Avaysia’s face and settles it with the rest of the veil. Her eyes are wet, but her cheeks are dry. She’s managing to hold it together. She doesn’t know that she’s about to be saved.

“Do you, Alexander Nathan Peter Corona, crown prince to the kingdom of Flumen, son of Louis and Margaret Corona, agree to take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife? To love her, honor her, and keep her in sickness and in health as long as ye both shall live?”

Alex’s eyes flicker to Arista. I can swear he is apologizing to her telepathically, though she won’t be able to hear him. He licks his lips and nods.

“I do.”

The priest turns to Avaysia. “And do you, Princess Avaysia Rosalind Christina Regalda of the kingdom Rugnum, eldest daughter of Dominic and Dana, agree to take this man as your lawfully wedded husband? To love him, honor him, and keep him in sickness and in health, as long as ye both shall live.”

Avaysia’s face is set. She doesn’t hesitate. “I do.”

The priest closes his book. “Then I pronounce you—”

“Wait!” a voice calls from somewhere in the crowd. Everyone glances around, trying to see who spoke. “You forgot to ask if anyone objects.”

Bella has disappeared. She must have realized the old man skipped a step before I did. It’s her voice prodding him in the right direction.

“Mmm, yes, I suppose I did. Well then, does anyone object to Prince Alexander wedding Princess Avaysia? Speak now or forever hold your pee. I mean, your peace.”

“I object!” I shout.

Simultaneously, Arista jumps to her feet on the roof. “I object!” she yells with me.

Everyone stares.

“I object,” says Jake.

“As do I,” Wren adds.

“They shouldn’t be forced to marry each other. It’s just wrong,” Bella chimes in. “I object.”

Victoria, who has been trying to set the coupling straight since the beginning climbs onto a chair. She shakes back her read hair. “I object, too!” she shrieks.

“Vicky, what are you doing?” Natalie hisses.

“Objecting.”

“Yay!” Pansy giggles. “Ob-shect!”

People are starting to titter. This must be quite the uproar to them. These people who have they’re lives planned out for them, who never have a choice more difficult than what color to wear.

Queen Margaret stands. The people all fall silent, eager to see how she will punish us. But the words that come from her mouth take all of us by surprise, even me.

“I object as well,” she declares.

The people are gasping and shouting to one another. They’re so loud, they almost miss Avaysia and Alex looking at each other.

“I never loved you,” Avaysia says.

“Nor me you.”

Together, they shout, “We object!”

“I want to know,” warbles the priest. “Why we even bothered to have a wedding when so many people object to it.”

“Now, guys,” I holler.

I rip off my skirt, freeing my legs. Then I grab Bella and Jake. We dash down the stairs, whistling to our horses. Neverard gallops up to me. Jake and I swing onto his back. Bella pulls herself onto a second horse. The third waits for Wren and Avaysia. Technically, none of the horses are ours except Neverard. Well, technically, Neverard isn’t even all horse. However, Wren and I figured that Arista wouldn’t mind if we borrowed two mounts.

“Come on!” I yell up to Wren.

Avaysia is completely stunned. If I were in her place, I would have been running for my life. But she just stands there, clutching her flowers, confused and beautiful. Then Wren scoops her up, tosses her over his shoulder, and bounds down the stairs. The bouquet falls to the ground. Vicky snatches it up and waves it through the air. Not exactly the typical bouquet toss, but close enough.

“Thanks for the flowers!” she calls.

“You’re welcome!” I shout back, figuring Avaysia is too shocked to respond.

Wren sets Avaysia on the horse and clambers up behind her. She clutches him with one hand as we gallop off. As we pass the tree we hid the horses under she raises her free hand and waves. A smile tugs on the corners of her mouth.

“This means war!” King Louis screams after us.

“It most certainly does not!” Margaret shrieks. “You will not attack my sister’s home over a piece of jewelry.”

Then we’re out of the garden, past the gate, and flying down the road. We head north, hoping we can get to Montanum before anyone comes after us. If we’re lucky, no one will bother. If we aren’t, they’ll catch us and drag up back.

But I think Margaret will keep her husband at bay. For the first time in weeks, I’m free.