“You have a lot of respect for her,” I commented, moved by his admiration for his sister.
“I respect people who aren’t afraid to be themselves. Like you.” He smiled at me and I felt warm inside, like a bakery oven had been placed in my chest and was starting to heat up.
“I respect people who treat me to breakfast.” I cocked my head at him. “Am I being too subtle?”
“You never are, so why start now?” Chance teased. He held open the door to the café and mock-bowed. “After you, Princess Knight.”
“Why thank you, Prince Darling.” I mock-curtsied and strode past him. For a moment, the smell of baked goods was no longer the sweetest thing capturing my attention.
Chance and I had the best day together.
For a solid five hours, I didn’t think of myself as Crisanta Knight—enemy of antagonists, slave to a powerful Fairy Godmother, potential magical threat to humanity, and potential savior to our realm. As the prince and I explored the village, I was just Crisanta Knight the tourist, being shown a good time by a good friend.
We browsed boutiques, watched fresh cheese being made at the local dairy-master’s factory, visited the zoo (so I could finally see a mini narwhal), and perused various armories. Later in the day, in lieu of lunch, Chance directed me to a place he claimed I would love. It was the ice cream shop I had seen on my first night in Clevaunt, so obviously he was right. When we walked in, I was struck by two things. One, I was going to need a big cone. There were dozens of flavors and I would be physically unable to choose a single scoop. Two, I’d seen the inside of this place before.
While a teenage girl at the register served a mom and her daughter, a middle-aged man with brown hair under his white hat came over to us. He paused in front of the bright blue “DZ” sign on the wall and grinned.
“Good afternoon, your highness,” he said to Chance. “Can I offer you and your guest any samples?”
“I’ll just have my usual please, David,” Chance said. “But she’s another story.”
Not sure where to begin, I glanced up and down the case before meeting the vendor’s eyes. “Hit me with your best shot.”
“Here, try this,” David replied. “It may not be a traditional summer flavor, but it’s one of my favorites so we always have it.” He handed me a small spoon that resembled a miniature shovel, which held a bite of beige ice cream with chunks of orange. I popped it in my mouth and smiled.
“Pumpkin cheesecake,” David explained. “All of our twenty-nine flavors are made in-house. You’ll never find a better hand-churned ice cream. Now, what else would you like to try?”
I wandered down the case and started pointing at other flavors, which David would in turn provide me samples of. “This place has been here a long time, hasn’t it?” I said after my fifth tasting.
“Sixty years,” David replied. “It began with my grandfather, David Zappoli Senior. I’m the third David to run it and have been working here since my middle school days.”
“I saw a picture of this shop on my headmistress’s desk,” I commented. “There was a boy in the picture. My headmistress grew up here and you both are around the same age. The boy in the picture could’ve been you. Maybe you know her? Her name is Cornwallace Agnue.”
David hesitated as he handed me my sixth sample. “Um, yes. I know her. It’s been many years since we’ve seen each other though.”
“She’s in town for the summer,” I replied, noting a sudden change in David’s body language. “Maybe you’ll run into one another.”
“That’s . . . a possibility,” he said, not meeting my eye.
With the conversation having turned awkward, I decided to wrap things up and swallowed my last sample. “I’ll have a three-scoop cone, please. Vanilla bean on the bottom, then your fresh strawberry, then that mega dark chocolate flavor on top.”
“Why the specific order?” Chance asked me.
“The two top flavors will melt onto the more neutral one at the bottom creating an awesome flavor mix.”
Chance laughed. “You’re ahead of your time.”
David handed me my gigantic cone then presented Chance with a cone that had a double serving of mint chip. We exited the shop and sat down on a bench that faced the bustling street.
“I wonder how well David and Lady Agnue knew each other when they were younger?” I thought aloud in between licks. “He reacted weirdly when I mentioned her.”
“Yeah. Maybe they dated?” Chance shrugged.
I made a face thinking about it. “Let’s change the subject. I barely just started liking my headmistress; discussing her love life is one step too awkward.”
“Fair enough. How about we keep going with our tour? There’s an ice bowling alley that I think you’ll . . . Crisa.” He was staring at my hands.
“What?”
I glanced down and saw my genie cuffs starting to glow.
“Aw crud, not a—”
FLASH.
I landed on the sofa in my genie bottle, cone in hand. A second later, I was zapped into an open field, ice cream cone still amazingly clutched in my grip.
Open countryside stretched around me. Beneath my feet, a simple cobblestone path cut across the otherwise grassy landscape. The atmosphere was bleak—the sky was gray and misty, and clouds hung dark and low. A few sheep grazed nearby, but apart from them, my only companion was Lenore.
I sighed. At least I was properly dressed this time.
“So, what is it today?” I asked, then took a lick of ice cream.
“There.” Lenore pointed at an old chateau in the distance. It was so far away I hadn’t noticed it at first. Several massive green hedges pruned in the shape of sitting cats led up to the structure.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“That is another commons rebellion stronghold,” Lenore said. “We are in the kingdom of Eebi. In the last two months, six influential members of the kingdom’s government have been kidnapped. The Godmother that was working the case fell out of contact with us a month ago. A new team was assigned and tracked her last location to this estate. However, those Godmothers were sent here two days ago and haven’t returned. I fear the place is booby-trapped and the Godmothers may have been killed or captured.”
“So you thought, send in a teenager. Clearly a better plan.” I rolled my eyes with a huff. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance of you holding my cone?”
“Shockingly, I have other things to do,” Lenore replied sarcastically. “Do you have a Mark Two?”
“In my jacket pocket.”
“Good. Call me when you’re done. Now I command you to use your magic in whatever ways necessary to subdue the rebels inside so that we can safely retrieve the government officials, as well as my Godmothers if they are still alive.”
The magical tether feeling I’d experienced yesterday reappeared with strength and compelled me to move forward. Lenore vanished in her classic magic ball of energy and I turned toward the house. I gazed at the cone in my hand.
What a waste.
I glanced back.
Ice cream will absorb into the earth, right? Birds can eat the cone and the liquid will melt and nourish the plants with sugary awesomeness. Yeah, that checks out. Not littering.
I threw the cone backward, wiped my hand on my dress, then drew my wandpin from my bra strap.
Lapellius.
Shield.
I began to walk, vigilant as ever. The estate seemed abandoned and unassuming, which meant it was probably teeming with danger. My boots thudded along the path. The building loomed with greater height and darkness the closer I came to it. I was a few dozen feet from the first mega cat hedge when I stepped on a cobblestone that made a kerglunk sound and sunk into the road beneath my boot.
As the distinct whistle of something skewering the air got louder, I whirled around and raised my shield. I barely had time to brace myself against the harpoon fired from a launcher that had risen from the field. My shield prevented me from turning into a hu
man shish kebob, but the force of the projectile thrust me off my feet and I violently tumbled to the grass beside the path.
Argh.
I got up slowly.
Okay, let’s try staying off the road.
I kept walking just to the left of the cobblestone path. Soon, I was close enough to see the details of the chateau. Several of the windows were open. The inside of the chateau looked dark, but a flash of light on the third floor drew my eye. Something metallic in one of the open windows had caught the hazy light for a moment. It was enough of a warning. The first giant cat topiary was a few yards away and I ran for it. Three nets fired from the third-floor window, spiraling into the ground at my heels as I ducked behind the feline-shaped hedge.
My twenty-five-foot cat provided sufficient cover. Perhaps all the cats could form an even better distraction.
Wand.
My weapon transformed and I shoved it in my boot. Then I rubbed my hands together and concentrated. Pure golden energy erupted instantly. A small smirk spread to the corners of my lips. No supervision once again meant maybe I could have some fun getting this done.
I poured my magic into the cat topiary. The enormous feline stretched to life and began prancing toward the chateau at my command. I used the hedge for cover until I reached the next cat topiary, at which point I ducked behind it. Nets landed ineffectually on the first feline, and arrows shot from various third-floor windows sailed straight through it. I heard shouting from inside the chateau. People were panicked and confused and I was just getting started.
More magic. More cats. I brought to life three more mega hedge kitties, each of which I ordered to trot to the chateau and paw at the building before climbing it like a massive cat tower. It was arguably the most delightful distraction I’d ever caused. Regrettably, my enemies inside had their own unique way of dealing with such a big problem.
I was hiding behind the last cat topiary, a mere thirty feet from the front door and about to make a dash for it. That’s when a metallic cupola rose from the roof. It had a bright red light in the center, like the tip of a lighthouse. The thin tower it was attached to extended higher and higher until it was at least fifteen feet above the compound. Then the light at the center of the small cupola glowed a nearly blinding shade of raspberry.
An enormous burst of matching energy beamed toward one of my cat topiaries. The blast obliterated the creature’s head. This ray was not simply one shot though; it didn’t stop. The red energy beam continued for another three seconds, adjusting in angle so it could destroy the rest of the cat. Then the beam shut off.
What the crackle was that?!
I considered my next move. If I stepped out of hiding long enough, that thing could eradicate me into nothingness. Although I had powers of resurrection, I couldn’t bring myself back to life if I was blasted out of existence. Of that I was certain.
I peered around the hindquarters of the last cat. There was an open window on the bottom floor of the chateau. It was maybe a five-second sprint from my current spot. Another beam of light erupted from the roof. Another cat topiary got annihilated. Now was my chance.
I channeled my magic and concentrated on my last two cats in play. Using my powers telepathically, a much more difficult endeavor than pouring magic into things while touching them, I had both felines leap for the roof at the same time. The beam began discharging at the kitties, and I sped toward the open window. Propping my hands on the ledge, I was about to climb in when I spotted a man directly in front of me on the other side of the window, and a woman farther beyond him. He had a sword and she had a bow and arrow. The man slashed at me with his sword, and I dropped to the ground to evade the strike. I grabbed my wand with one hand and a fistful of gravel with the other.
Shield.
I leapt up, chucked the gravel at the man’s face, then slammed my shield into his forehead. He stumbled back. The woman raised her bow to fire. I snapped my shield across the room discus-style and nailed her in the chest before she could. She staggered and I climbed through the window. The man with the sword had recovered and came at me swinging. I ducked once, then again, bringing him within my reach. I barreled my fist into his face, following with a swift kick to his chest. He fell to the floor and I glanced around.
We were in a library furnished with a floral-print couch, a glass coffee table, and a thick gray carpet. The female archer sat up wheezing and tried to aim her weapon again. No time to block the shot, I dove for cover behind the couch and the arrow pierced the armrest my thigh had been in front of a moment before. I lay on my stomach and pressed my hands against the shag carpet.
Give me a wave, I commanded.
My magic seeped into the carpet and a large ripple occurred, causing everything on top of the carpet—couch, tables, and people—to be thrown into the air. I was at the epicenter so the wave barely affected me. The two attackers got a more violent jerk. When I heard two bodies thump to the floor with an oomph I bounded up, darted out from the couch, and ran for my shield. It was near the woman, who lay on her back near the glass table, stunned. I grabbed my weapon, transformed it into a spear, then pointed it at the woman’s head.
“The Fairy Godmothers and the kidnapped government officials,” I said. “Where are they?”
The woman glanced behind me, accidentally tipping me off to lurking danger. I spun around and thwacked the male attacker with my staff so hard that he fell on top of the glass table, shattering it. He didn’t move after that.
I felt my emotions rising. The glass shards on the floor triggered dark memories of Madame Alexanders’s betrayal. The floor of the potions lab at school had been littered with glass as my Pure Magic shot beakers and vials to defend me from her.
Aggression bubbled inside me, like water coming to a boil. I focused and the broken glass shards glowed gold and rose off the ground—swarming together and flying around my shoulders like a levitating shawl ready to stab or slice anyone who made a move.
“Where?” I said again to the woman.
“The captives are on the third floor,” the woman responded fearfully. “The Godmothers in the basement.”
“How many of you are in the house?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying,” I said.
One of the shards glowed brighter for a second then shot into the woman’s leg. She yelped. The fear in her eyes was familiar; it reminded me of the panicked expressions that magic hunters in Oz wore when I sucked a chunk of life energy from them. This was the look of someone who’d stopped underestimating me and finally appreciated what I could do.
“Ten others,” the woman said, grimacing. “Positioned throughout the house.”
Hm, I hadn’t meant to do that with the shard, but it sure was effective.
“Don’t follow me,” I told the woman. Then I hastened out of the room, my glass swarm following me like loyal bees.
I entered a narrow corridor and saw no danger to the right or left. It looked like left would bring me deeper into the house, so I started up the right hall in search of the chateau’s main entry where I might find stairs. Then I heard floorboards creak. I wheeled around to discover a man with a mace exiting a room farther down. He saw me. Then he raced toward me. I fired two large shards of glass at his legs before he even made it halfway. His momentum made him crash at my feet, where he lay still. I thought he was out for the count, but then he abruptly shot up an arm, grabbed my leg, and yanked. I fell, but twisted out of his grasp and kicked him in the face with my free foot, knocking him out completely.
That’s nine rebels left.
Just as I stood, another man dashed around the corner and barreled into me, thrusting me against the wall. My head hit the wood roughly, breaking my magical concentration. The glass that had been swarming around my shoulders fell to the floor in a huge clattering. The man pushed his forearm against my throat. On instinct, I raked my nails across his face. He hollered and released me. I took in a huge, fast breath—waking my brain up en
ough to duck when he came in with a fresh punch. His fist went into the wall and he shouted.
Knife.
My weapon shortened and I slashed at my enemy. He blocked and attempted to hook punch me. I ducked that blow too, but could not get completely clear. He grabbed my arm and threw me down. I hit the floor, but used the angle from the ground to get a solid kick to his shin. The man fell hard.
Shield.
I twisted and slammed the weapon into his forehead and knocked him out too.
Eight rebels left.
I rose to my feet carefully so as not to get cut by all the glass on the floor. When I maneuvered around the bodies, as hoped, the hall led me to a wide, open foyer across from the chateau’s main entrance. The floors were dark wood and the only light was due to the gray of the outside spilling in through windows. A glass chandelier swayed slightly overhead, dangling evenly between dual staircases. My eyes widened. An archer waited near the top of each one, standing a few steps from the second floor.
Oh crud.
I shielded myself against the first archer’s arrow and sidestepped to avoid that of the second rebel. With a raised hand, I sent telepathic magic to consume the stairs.
Flatten.
Both staircases instantly lit up in golden energy and converted to ramps. The rebels slid down in panic. I crouched and touched my fingertips to the floorboards.
Cage them, I commanded.
Fresh magic flowed from me into the wood and enveloped the floorboards closest to the rebels. The boards wrenched themselves free of their nails and formed boxes around my enemies with the exception of some slits for air.
Six left.
In the holes left by the floorboards, I got my first view of the basement below. It didn’t look like any basement I’d ever seen. From my limited perspective, I made out parts of strange-looking machines, and in the center of the room, a metal slab with straps. That’s all I could observe for the moment. A male guard stepped out from behind one of the contraptions and fired an arrow up at me. I leapt back hastily then stepped away from the hole. I glanced up.
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