I was six and defenseless—I never understood why she didn’t kill me too. Once upon a time, my given name had been Kaia. After that, her Highness had used her powers to bring me to a parallel reality known as Earth, in order to keep me safe. She’d dropped me off in front of a church-run orphanage with a fake letter and vanished before they opened the door. I still don’t know what the letter said, but the lady who opened the door hugged me after reading it, whispering, “You poor, poor dear.” That was when I learned my name had been changed to Bree.
I stared up at Rolph. “Do you think it’s really her?” I whispered.
He shrugged. “No one can disappear forever, and the Queen sure seems to think it’s her. She’s had her guards looking for Muriel for years … let’s just say that they have a lot of brawn but lack in the intellectual department.” He lifted a steaming cup to my lips. “Now drink this tea. It’ll perk you up.”
The pungent, sweet liquid warmed my throat. “Thank you.” I sat up on the couch.
Rolph’s eyes held concern and something else.
“What is it?” I asked, reaching for his hand.
He took my hand and patted it. “It’s just that … the Queen is concerned you might not take the job. I’ve never wanted you to back away from a job before, but I don’t have a great feeling about this one.”
I attempted to smile. “Well, that’s why I’m getting paid the big bucks, right?”
A frown line appeared between Rolph’s eyebrows. “Sweetie, it’ll be hard getting yourself to the Juilliard audition if you’re dead.”
“Guess I have to make sure I don’t end up dead then.” I sounded more confident than I felt. My insides turned to ice when I thought about the old woman. All I had to do was conjure up those memories and it was as though I were six again, instead of seventeen.
I stood up and gulped the rest of the tea. Rolph raised a single eyebrow. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“For a ride in the woods. It always helps me to sort things out.” I set the teacup on the settee and gave Rolph a quick hug.
“I’ll have Edward ready Majestic for you. Be mindful of the goblins—I hear they’ve been in a foul mood lately.” He rested his hand on my arm. “What should I tell the Queen?” he asked.
I patted his shoulder. “Tell her I’ll give her my answer when I return.”
Forest surrounded the castle on all sides. Once outside the wrought iron gates of the palace grounds, stone-paved paths curved toward different sections of the kingdom—each with its own village. Unless I had a job to do, I never ventured along the trail to the troll village—it would be the equivalent of pulling out your own toenail just for the fun of it. Trolls sucked. I passed by the branch-off with a crooked wooden sign stating “Troll Village”, and breathed a sigh of relief when nary a troll could be seen. Even Majestic seemed to perk up when she realized we were heading a different way.
The trail narrowed as it reached the densest part of the forest. I patted Majestic as she treaded carefully through the foliage. We came to a fork in the road and breathed in the heady fragrance of flowers.
Though it was October back home, flowers here in Liralelle bloomed year- round. There were no seasons; the climate stayed mild and temperate aside from occasional rain showers. The big storms that came through were rare, and usually caused major destruction.
The road veering off to the left went by some goblin huts, Red’s house, and Snow White’s cabin, or “Snow Slut” as she was known in the goblin village. The trail to the right meandered through more forest, then cut through vast fields of flowers which surrounded a lake inhabited by fairies and water sprites, toward Cinderella’s castle, where after several more miles, it ended at the Center Village.
I had no desire to mingle with a large group of people, and Her Highness ordered me to stay as far away from the villages as possible. It kept my identity protected—I was little more than a rumor among the villagers. A few who lived outside the village walls knew me but kept my secret.
The wildflowers in the fields called to me and I headed toward them, feeling a strong pull toward the main village despite orders. The trees started to thin and dappled sunlight lit up the landscape. A lilting voice could be heard ahead of me, and the sound of girlish singing filled the air. Her voice grew louder as she approached, and she rounded the bend with her basket swinging on her arm.
“Bree! Majestic!” she yelled, as she ran and threw her arms around the horse. “I missed you two.”
“Hey, Red,” I said, smiling. I jumped down and she gave me a fierce hug as well. “Aren’t you a little far from home?”
She grinned and twirled around, her cape fanning behind her. “Nothing to worry about since you took out that wolf for me. Thanks for giving Old Mr. Coon the credit. He’s the talk of the town.” She looked around us and leaned closer to me. “And don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone about you.” She pretended to lock her lips with an imaginary key.
“No problem.” I tried to look stern. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other bad guys out there. I wouldn’t wander too far from home for a bit.”
Red wrinkled her nose at me. “Oh, that’s why you’re here, right? There’s a bad guy in town?”
“More like a bad lady. Worse than the others.” I patted her head. “Run home now.”
Red cocked her head to one side, her pigtails swinging in the air. “Wait, are you talking about Muriel?”
I froze. My hands clenched into fists, and my chest tightened. All these years, I’d wanted nothing more than to find the witch responsible for killing my family. Every evil creature I’d killed along the way had helped to prepare me for her. I just hadn’t counted on the fact that I’d be so scared. When I came face to face with her, I wasn’t sure whether I’d use my sword efficiently like I did every other time, or if I would just break down and cry.
“What do you know?” I asked, incredulous that I was getting intel from a ten-year-old.
The little girl shrugged. “I’ve never seen her—just heard some folks whispering about her and her creepy eyes in the village. Something about ‘Muriel’s return.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “Now your turn—tell me some more about your land of Philadelphia. It sounds so magical.”
I shook my head at Red. “No time now, but trust me, the words ‘magical’ and ‘Philadelphia’ are rarely used in the same sentence. Anything else you heard?”
She shook her head. “No, but you should try the Center Village. Those old biddies are gossiping their heads off about it.” Red whipped a checkered scarf off of her basket of bread. “Here, put this over your hair and you’ll look more like a villager. Next time I see you, I’m not leaving until you tell me another story about your world. Got it? Good. Bye, Majestic.” She skipped off into the forest without waiting for an answer, humming like she didn’t have a care in the world. I couldn’t imagine what that felt like.
Great. It looked like I’d have to go to socialize—not my strongest suit. My job involved killing evil-doers, not making small talk.
Majestic and I made it out of the trees, and I inhaled the sweet scent of flowers wafting across the fields. Shades of pink, yellow, blue, and purple that didn’t exist in my world lay before me, sweet and spicy in their fragrance. Tiny fairies with shimmering, clear wings darted among the flowers. Though they were notoriously shy, a few approached to check me out before they zipped away again.
The bright blue water in the pond sparkled. Sprites flew high into the air before diving straight down and disappearing beneath the clear surface. A few children laughed and played tag in the tall grass, barely giving me a glance. The sunshine warmed my skin, with only a few puffy clouds drifting lazily across the sky. I wished I could stay longer but had to keep going. A movement in the tall grasses at the water’s edge caught my attention. I pulled on Majestic’s reins with one hand, while my other hand reached down toward the hilt of my sword.
“Who’s there?” I called out.
A young woman stood up. Her dirty blond hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and pond water sloshed inside the bucket in her hand. “Oh, hey, Bree. It’s just me.”
I relaxed. “Hey, Ella. What are you doing down here? Did your step-sisters give you the day off?”
She snorted. “Hardly. I needed a few minutes away from those wenches. Told ‘em I’d fetch some water for their baths. I’m making it extra special for them.” Ella made a hacking sound, and spit a big wad of snot into the water. “There. Think that’s special enough?”
I laughed and tapped my sword. “You let me know if it gets too much for you.”
Ella hoisted the bucket up over her shoulder. “Oh please, I can handle them. I’m fixin’ to get the hell out of here soon, you know, takin’ a little bit of gold here and there from the step-monster.” She eyed me. “You’re the one that might be needing help from what I hear. You need back-up to help with that crazy old biddy?” Ella flexed her arm muscle. “Because I’ve got a pretty good right hook.”
Good news traveled fast. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be okay. Take care.”
Ella shrugged. “Suit yourself. You know where to find me if you change your mind.” She stomped off toward their cottage. The thought of the step-sisters bathing in snot made me laugh again, but I wondered how much of her bravado covered up the loss of her mom. Red and Ella were the only ones outside of the Queen’s castle who knew me well—sure, a few rumors floated now and again about a foreign warrior but no one knew for sure except those two. I’d offered Ella my services several times in the past—for free as the Queen hadn’t ordered it—but Ella was a trooper. Hope she got away from the awful women who called themselves family.
I led Majestic to the water and let her drink, then continued the short distance to the village. As riding into town on Her Highness’ horse would attract unwanted attention, I tied Majestic to a tree just outside the village and walked the rest of the way, making sure to cover my head with the scarf.
I’d always imagined the place would have a sleepy-town vibe involving maidens chatting while gathering water from the well, older women haggling with vendors over the price of fruit, and bored children chasing chickens through the street. If it ever had that vibe, it had disappeared.
Only a few things were as I envisioned. A cobblestone path, adorned with gas lamp streetlights, wound its way through the quaint shops along the main street. Hand-carved signs proclaiming everything from antique books to magic potions hung outside the stores. The stores themselves appeared to be open for business as usual. Everything else that might once have been described as sleepy, now looked more like panic.
Townsfolk gathered in small bunches on the street. Furtive whispers rose from each group, before one would race to others and pass along some tidbit. It was like an archaic game of telephone. The facts had likely long since merged with rampant rumors. A small girl with tattered clothes turned and stared at me. She tugged on the dress of the older woman next to her, and I ducked into the nearest doorway. I didn’t want to hear superstitions; I wanted information. My best bet might be one of the shopkeepers.
I turned around and inspected the store, Ye Olde Magic Shoppe. Assorted candles, potions, and bottles lined the shelves while wands of all sizes and colors hung from the ceiling.
“Welcome,” said a scratchy voice in the direction of the counter.
I peered across the store but couldn’t see anyone.
“How can I help you, dearie?” She walked out from behind the counter. I hadn’t seen her because she was shorter than the counter. A frizzy, white bun sat atop her wrinkled face. She wasn’t a troll, or goblin, but was too short to be human—plus she looked about a thousand years old.
Her laugh came out gnarled but kind. “You’re trying to figure out what I am, aren’t you? My mother was human and my father was a troll. Pretty risqué for the times, don’t you think? What with the laws prohibiting them from marrying and all—saying it wasn’t natural.” She smiled and walked toward me. “I can’t think of anything more natural than love, can you?”
I shook my head, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she was part troll.
“Of course, it’s a pain filling out the Queen’s tax forms each year for my shop. You have to mark what species you belong to and there’s still no “other” category.” She sighed. “We have a long way to go.” She straightened a few bottles on the shelf. “Anyway, what can I do for you, dear? A love spell? A protection potion, perhaps?”
“N-n-no. I don’t need to buy anything.” The old woman-troll’s face fell. “I mean, I will buy something,” I added quickly, and watched her face brighten, “but what I really need is information.”
“I’ll help any way I can. I’m Helga.” She grabbed my hand and pumped it up and down.
“I’m Br—I’m Briar.” It was as close to a fairytale name as I could conjure in the moment.
She dropped my hand. “No, you’re not. I can smell a liar a mile away. What do you want?”
For some reason, I trusted her. Maybe part of it was that she didn’t seem at all interested in the gossip taking place outside her shop. Part of it was that I knew what it felt like to be an outsider. I told her my name and prepared to tell her what I did in Liralelle. I didn’t need to.
Helga’s mouth hung open. She spoke in an excited whisper. “Bree? The one who slays witches?”
I shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly uncomfortable. “Um, yeah, that’s me, I guess. Didn’t realize the word got around that much.”
Helga dropped to her knees. “Thank the stars—you’re real! And don’t worry none about being found out—most people in these parts buy into whatever the Queen tells ‘em. You know, princes are the heroes, princesses need rescued, blah, blah, blah.” She tapped her finger to her temple. “Only a few of us like to do the thinking for ourselves rather than leave it to others. Like you.” She reached for my hand and kissed it. “You’ve come to help us.”
I tried to extricate my hand from hers. “Well, I’ve come to try and help. I’m real—it’s just that I’m not allowed to be seen in the village for obvious reasons. But honestly, I prefer the forest anyway.”
She stood up, animation lighting her face. “Of course, I love the forest myself.” She looked around and whispered. “I mark the human box on my tax forms since they pay lower taxes than other species, but I live in the troll village. I’ve been with my man for years.”
It was difficult to imagine Helga living with the trolls. The ones I’d come across were short-tempered, hostile creatures. Helga seemed to read my mind. “They’re not as bad as you think—just misunderstood. Imagine if you were considered the ugliest creature alive, and to top it off, you were shorter than everyone else. It’s a tough life being a troll.”
So maybe the chip on their shoulders was justified, but did they have to be so unlikeable? “I guess,” I said. “So, the rumors about discontent—” I gestured toward the huddled masses in the street, “they seem to be true. Why are they upset?”
“Ah, very true,” Helga said. “Some of the workers haven’t been receiving their pay on time.”
I frowned. “That seems more like a problem with the Treasury department, plus, that doesn’t seem serious enough to cause this kind of uproar. I mean—”
“Did I say I was finished? Give me a minute, will ya.” Helga brushed a gray tendril from her face. “The Queen’s servant who carried the payments was ambushed before he reached the workers. But that’s not the biggest problem.”
I waited for her to continue.
She sighed heavily. “The real problem lies in the girls gone missing.”
My blood froze. “I hadn’t heard. How many?”
Helga glanced out to the street. “Three so far. All teenage girls. Vanished with not a trace left behind. No one can figure it out.”
“And they believe that the witch Muriel is behind it?”
Helga coughed. “So they say. Muriel don’t sound much like
a proper witch name if you ask me. Anyway, that’s all I know.” She waved toward the window. “I try to stay out of all that nonsense. Who knows what rubbish they’re spewing—I overheard one boy saying he’s seen Muriel flying around at night, looking for fresh blood to drink.”
I shuddered. I didn’t need my nightmares to be any worse than they were. “Well, thanks for your time.”
“My pleasure. It’s a great honor to meet you.” Helga seemed to remember my promise to purchase something and tapped her fingers on the shelf, an expectant look on her face. “With who you’re up against, a protection spell might do the trick, hmm?”
Aside from allowing a kind witch to bless my sword when I first became initiated into the Queen’s service, I wasn’t a big believer in charms and potions. Call me old-fashioned but I’d rather have someone fall in love with me on their own, rather than because they drank a magic liquid. My sword was my protection. I scanned the various items on the shelf, and picked up two stained glass bottles, one blue and one lavender.
I handed them to Helga, who raised an eyebrow when she saw the labels. “These aren’t for me. They’re for my friends.”
Helga chuckled and wrapped my purchases. “Interesting choices. Well, before you leave, check with Mr. Fibbons, the bartender at the inn down the street. He’s not the most agreeable sort, but he’s sharp as a whip and I imagine he knows more than anyone. After a few drinks, people’s tongues get as loose as their purse. If anyone in Liralelle knows anything useful about Muriel, it’d be him.”
“Thanks, I’m heading there now.” I grasped the brown bag and exited the store.
“Mind yourself,” Helga called after me.
I stayed close to the shops, away from the street, but still heard some of the townsfolk muttering to one another. One woman said that she and her children hadn’t eaten in days, because she still hadn’t received her wages. She’d taken to digging for roots in the forest behind their cottage.
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