“This isn’t the first time a member of our family has rescued you. Our grandson Riordan helped you escape from jail. He wrote to us about you, and that’s how we knew your name. When we heard that a woman named Willow Nightshade had helped heal a woman, we had to try to find you,” Marian said. Willow was absolutely shocked at the revelation.
Willow saw the servant who had handed her the directions to the Pyraxia Library appear in the doorway. He smiled and said, “Oh, I see you are finally awake!”
Willow smiled and said, “Yes, I am! Thank you for saving me!”
“You’re welcome. I knew I had to,” the man replied, smiling.
“I will leave you to get dressed. There are some dresses and a hooded cloak in the wardrobe that I bought you when you were sleeping,” Marian said as she pointed at a wardrobe.
She walked out of the room, and Willow looked in the wardrobe.
Willow still did not believe that Victor was Tareth. She thought that was making quite a stretch. Willow looked in the wardrobe and saw five dresses inside.
She heard the sound of someone opening a window. Willow turned and saw Starfire’s head poking through the window doors! Yet again, her trusty horse had found her! “Starfire!” Willow shouted. She ran over and stroked her horse’s nose. “I’m sorry, girl. They arrested me again.” Starfire whinnied and trotted around in a circle.
Willow was so thankful for all this family had done for her. She looked outside and saw that the house sat in a forest. It was not in Ethermoor City.
Willow got dressed and walked out to the kitchen. She saw Marian and Nicholas sitting at a table. The scent of pastries wafted through the air, and she saw a pile of cinnamon rolls sitting on a plate in the center of the table.
“I can’t thank you enough for saving me,” Willow said to Marian’s husband.
“You’re welcome, young lady. My name is Nicholas,” he said.
“Willow Nightshade.” She shook hands with him, then sat down at the table. “How did you get my horse here?”
“That horse ran into our pasture last night. We don’t know where she came from,” Marian said.
“She’s my horse, and she was locked in the servants’ stables at the castle when Victor snuck us in,” Willow replied. She picked up one of the cinnamon rolls off the plate and put it in her mouth. It was one of the most delicious things she had ever eaten. “This is so good!”
Marian’s cheeks turned pink. “Why, thank you! I own the Sweet Town Bakery in the city.
“How far is the city from here?” Willow asked.
“It’s about two miles from here to the city gate,” Marian replied.
Willow then turned to Nicholas and asked, “Which one of those women is Princess Ambrosia, and which is Princess Desdemona? I knew them as Rosaria and Lillithia.”
“Princess Ambrosia is the blonde one, and Princess Desdemona is the black-haired one,” Nicholas said.
So Rosaria was Princess Ambrosia’s fake name, and Lillithia was Princess Desdemona’s, Willow thought, taking note of who was who.
After they ate breakfast, Willow took Starfire for a ride around the meadow. She saw a large red macaw fly overhead. It landed on the kitchen windowsill of the house. “Mango Mail! Mango Mail! Mango Mail! Thank you for choosing Mango Mail! Ten Galdorians for overnight; fifteen Galdorians for two-day mail! Best rates in the business, and no one beats our competitive prices!” it squawked loudly. Willow, unable to take the racket any longer, rode Starfire up to the cottage. Marian opened the window and untied the letter from its talon.
She unrolled the letter, read it to herself, and said, “Willow, this letter concerns you.” She paid the parrot with an apple, which it gnawed at heartily.
Who would be writing a letter about me? Willow wondered.
“You’d better come inside and look at it, just to be safe. You don’t know who might be lurking around,” Marian warned. Willow walked inside. Marian handed her the letter.
It read,
Dear Grandmother,
I hope Willow is doing better. Please keep writing to me to inform me of her condition. I am currently on my way to Hallowdorn because I received information that the police caught another sorceress named Angelina Nightengale. She is presently in jail there awaiting her trial.
Sincerely,
Riordan Firedorn
“How far is this village from here?” Willow asked.
“About a two-day walk. My husband and I go there sometimes,” Marian said.
“I need to go try to help this sorceress!” Willow said. She was not about to see another one of her kind harmed in any way.
“The authorities are looking for you!” Marian hissed.
“I am sorry, but I really must go and help her,” Willow pleaded.
“Make sure you wear that hooded cloak I bought you! That way, you can keep the hood pulled down over your face, and perhaps no one will recognize you.”
Willow put the cloak on.
“Here. Tie this around your mouth to keep your face hidden,” Marian said. She handed Willow a handkerchief, and Willow tied it around her face, leaving just her eyes visible. She walked outside, saddled Starfire, waved the wand over her head three times, and said the transporter spell. The wand sputtered, and a puff of pink smoke burst from the tip. Nothing happened. It was as if the wand had died or something. She recited the transporter spell without the wand. Still, nothing happened.
Willow walked back into the house and asked Marian, “Can you give me directions to Hallowdorn?” Marian drew them out on a paper and handed them to her. Willow looked at the directions and put them in her pocket. She took off down the road toward the village of Hallowdorn.
After Victor, Ambrosia, and Desdemona searched the palace for Willow, they decided to go back and search the island of Enchantica for her. “I don’t understand where she could have gone to,” Ambrosia said. “She couldn’t have used her wand. After all, you took it from her, and you yourself said that the wood her wand was carved from would die if she left Enchantica Island.”
“Well, one of the wraiths that I have particular difficulty controlling might have taken it out of my holster! The one thing that we can take comfort in is knowing that the wand is dead, and she probably can’t use it to cast any spells. Your wands are made of plain wood that I coated with my brand of varnish to make them look like a Rainbowflower wand and do magic as well,” Victor said as he opened a trunk.
“You have trouble controlling one of the wraiths?” Rosaria asked, curious. He had never told her that he had difficulty controlling any of them.
“Yes. A female one with black hair. I don’t know why she is so hard to control!” He sighed.
Victor stood in the middle of the library, waved his wand, and said, “Shrinkaro Millameterus!” All the books flew off the shelves, shrunk down so small that they were nearly invisible, and flew into the trunk. The globe, bottles of potions, and canisters of powder shrunk and flew into the trunk. When the trunk lid slammed shut, the room was barren.
Victor smiled and said, “We must celebrate our victory over King Banderon with a special drink I prepared myself!” The three of them walked into the dining room. Victor walked out of the room and returned, holding a bottle of black liquid.
Two goblets were already sitting on the table. “This is something I prepared for this day. I want to thank the two of you noblewomen for helping me ascend to the throne and bring magic back to Ethermoor,” he said.
“That archaeology professor from Aralin University brought magic back,” Ambrosia said.
“You keep your mouth shut!” Victor scowled at her. “And I shall rule from the throne of Ethermoor! But this time, I shall not repeat the same mistake in not sharing my immortality with my followers. Drink up!” He uncorked the bottle and poured the liquid into the goblets. “Drink up!”
Ambrosia and Desdemona were unsure of this, but they picked up the goblets anyway. They put the cups to their lips and drank the liquid. It tasted like hot cinna
mon, and when they swallowed it, they felt as if their bodies had lit on fire. The pain was so horrific that they both doubled over and fell on the ground. It disappeared as suddenly as it started.
Desdemona stood up and yelled, “What did you try to do? Poison us?”
Victor smiled and said, “No, I just gave you a little reward for helping me. I gave you immortality.”
Desdemona and Ambrosia could hardly believe it. “You made us . . . immortal?” Desdemona stammered.
“Something I should have done with my previous students all those centuries ago. Go get knives and check for yourselves!” Victor said, smiling.
The two women ran into the kitchen and got knives out of the drawers. Ambrosia, too scared to believe him, barely cut her hand. Only a small drop of blood trickled out. Then, she saw a bright light shine forth from the wound, and it closed immediately. “What?” She gasped.
Desdemona was a little braver. She stabbed her hand all the way through with her knife and pulled it out. Pain seared through her hand. As soon as she had pulled the knife out, a bright light shone from the wound. As soon as it was gone, the wound had healed. “Eureka!” Desdemona shouted.
“Now the two of you are ready to go to Mount Pyraxia with me. Your immortality will suit you very much when we go to Tristan’s vault and steal the rings of the fairy king and queen of the Azodar Forest. For now, let’s go back to the castle and unpack.
As soon as Victor had moved his entire library to the castle and unpacked, they used the transporter spell to transport themselves to Mount Pyraxia. Now that he knew what to look for to find the entrance, he could picture it in his mind, and they could transport themselves there.
Chapter Six
Angelina Nightengale buckled her seatbelt. She was an American woman flying on an airplane from Miami, Florida, to Boston, Massachusetts. First, she had worked at a fast-food restaurant. Then, she owned a magic shop, which made her go bankrupt. She was now flying on a plane from Miami to Boston to live with her parents until she could find another job.
There was one thing that was her true passion, and that was performing magic tricks for an audience, but that did not pay the bills because there weren’t very many people who wanted to hire a magician for their child’s birthday party. Her mother was a politician from Boston, and Angelina tried to distance herself from that city as much as possible.
Angelina was terrified of heights, and she played with the ring on her finger nervously as the plane took off from the runway. The ring had belonged to an ancestor who, according to family legend, had come from another universe. Angelina wore the ring a lot, pretending that the legend was true. It had also made for good conversation when she owned her magic shop.
The ring, according to her father, was a ring that her ancestor, Queen Zadelia of the Ethermoorian Fairies, had taken from an evil sorcerer named Tareth, who she had imprisoned. He had used it to travel to different worlds. No one in Angelina’s family had ever been able to make it work, and Angelina thought it was just a fun story that was passed down through the family.
About half an hour into the flight, she felt the plane hit an air pocket, which terrified her, but she brushed it off as being nothing. Then, the plane began shaking up and down, and Angelina knew the shaking couldn’t be normal. She looked out the window and saw a bright light about the size of the sun on the horizon. Angelina knew it was not the sun because she saw the sun through a window on the other side of the plane.
What is that? Angelina wondered. The plane began shaking harder and harder, and the light grew bigger and brighter. The person sitting next to her was snoring. The other passengers appeared to be unaware of what was happening. The fasten seatbelt sign didn’t even turn on.
The light engulfed the cabin, and there was a massive jolt. As soon as the light disappeared, Angelina noticed that she was suddenly alone in the cabin. The other passengers had vanished.
She looked out the window and saw a green forest-covered mountain range that had suddenly just appeared out of nowhere. The plane had been flying out over the Atlantic Ocean. What the heck is going on?
She unbuckled her seatbelt and walked into the cockpit. To her horror, the pilot and copilot had disappeared too! Angelina ran back to her seat and grabbed her carry-on bag. She felt the plane losing altitude, which meant that it could crash at any moment. Angelina did not have a parachute, but she decided that there was a small chance that she would make it out of the crash alive if she jumped out of the emergency exit.
She pried open the exit door and was sucked out into the air by the speed of the plane. She braced for impact on the ground, but instead, she felt herself plunge below the surface of the ice-cold river. She kicked to the surface and struggled to swim to the other side of the river. Exhausted, she pulled herself onto the riverbank and hauled her carry-on bag with her. She sat there for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath and process what had just happened to her.
Angelina heard an explosion and saw a plume of fire rise above the treetops. The plane had crashed. A wave of relief washed over her as she realized that she had jumped out just in time to save her own life. How, and why, did everyone on that plane disappear? How did this gigantic landmass suddenly appear in the ocean?
Angelina began walking through the forest. She took her cell phone out of her purse, hoping beyond hope that it was not damaged when she plunged below the surface of the water. She tried to turn it on, but it would not turn on.
Liquid damage. I’m screwed. Here I am, stranded on an island with no way to call for help, Angelina thought as she slipped her phone back in her bag.
She heard voices talking, but did not see anyone. The voices sounded like squirrels chattering, but Angelina could understand every word they were saying. Was a ghost talking to her? She heard the talking again, but this time, she could hear where it came from—somewhere down in the grass. “It’s a human!” the voice said. She heard something running in the grass and saw two squirrels run up a tree trunk.
It can’t be! Squirrels can’t talk! Angelina thought. One ran out onto a branch and stared at her.
“Hey, everyone! Hide! There’s a human here!” the squirrel chattered. It flipped its bushy tail at her.
“Um, I’m not going to hurt you!” Angelina said, shocked that she could understand what the squirrel was saying.
“You can talk to us?” the second squirrel asked.
“I-I guess?” Angelina replied, completely surprised at her newfound ability to talk to animals.
“How can you talk to us?” the squirrel who was sitting on the branch asked.
“I-I don’t know,” Angelina said. “Hey, do you know where there’s a town or city?”
“What’s that?” the squirrel sitting on the branch replied.
“A place where humans live.”
“There’s a dirt thing they walk on not very far from here.”
“Can you take me to it?”
“Follow me,” the squirrel on the branch said. It crawled down the tree trunk. Angelina and the squirrel walked for what Angelina estimated to be around one city block. “Are you a woodland fairy?”
“What?” Angelina laughed.
“A fairy! Humans can’t talk to us. We squirrels believe fairies used to live in these woods. Our ancestors knew fairies!” the squirrel replied.
“No. I am just an ordinary human,” Angelina said. She remembered the Nightengale family legend about their ancestors having been fairies exiled from a country called Ethermoor many years ago.
“What is the name of the country I am in?” Angelina asked.
“We squirrels call it Woodlandia,” the squirrel replied.
“INTRUDER!” Angelina heard a voice scream. She felt something peck her head. Angelina looked up and saw a mockingbird fly to a branch.
“Go away!” another voice yelled. Angelina felt a gust of air by her ear and ducked as another mockingbird dived at her.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” Angelina said.
Even they can talk! she thought.
“Is it talking to us?” one mockingbird asked the other.
“Yes, I am talking to you,” Angelina said. She couldn’t even believe that she was talking to a mockingbird. What kind of experience did she have on that plane? First, all the passengers disappeared, then the plane crashed, and now she can talk to animals?
“You must be a woodland fairy if you can talk to us!” one of the mockingbirds said.
Angelina turned to the squirrel and asked, “Can you talk to birds?”
“No, but a fairy can talk to all animals. You are making the same squawks as them. Maybe they know where the humans live. We squirrels only know the way to the dirt thing they walk on,” the squirrel replied.
Angelina turned to the mockingbirds and asked, “Do you know where humans live?”
“There is a human flock that lives not too far from here,” one of the mockingbirds replied.
“Can you take me there?”
“You take her there and get her away from the nest!” the other mockingbird squawked.
“Yes, I will take you there,” the mockingbird said.
“Thank you so very much!”
The mockingbird flew off the branch. “Follow me.” He flew ahead of Angelina, and she followed him through the forest. The squirrel ran back through the woods.
“Do you have a name?” Angelina asked the mockingbird.
“Yes. We mockingbirds all have names. Mine is Astor. What’s yours?”
“Mine is Angelina Nightengale.”
“Are you sure you aren’t a woodland fairy? There is a legend among us mockingbirds that fairies used to live in this wood. They looked like humans but could talk to animals.”
Angelina thought for a moment. “My family has a story that we are descendants of the fairy queen Zadelia of Ethermoor and her husband, King Jasper,” she said.
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