A Tale of Magic...

by Chris Colfer

  “And what do we say about the cold?” Mr. Edgar asked.

  “You… you… you say the cold is good for us,” Pip recited. “It makes us seek the warmth of the Lord.”

  “Precisely,” Mr. Edgar said. “But you weren’t interested in the warmth of the Lord last night. All you cared about was yourself, so you abandoned the Lord and resorted to sin to satisfy your physical desires. And what do we do with sinners at this facility?”

  “We… we… we cleanse them,” Pip said.

  “Exactly,” he replied, and turned to the rest of the room. “To ensure none of you follows in her footsteps, you will join us outside and watch the thief be punished for her shameful actions! Take her to the dunker!”

  The name of the horrible device sparked a wave of fear through the young women in the dining hall—it was the only reaction Brystal had seen the girls have since she had arrived. Their mouths dropped open and they looked to one another with wide, frightful eyes. The wardens grabbed Pip by the arms and headed out of the hall, but Brystal jumped in front of them and blocked their path.

  “Wait!” she screamed. “This is my fault! Pip did nothing wrong!”

  “Stand aside, you reckless little worm!” Mrs. Edgar yelled. “This girl was caught red-handed while you were in your room!”

  “No, it was me!” Brystal declared. “I put her under a spell! I bewitched her into stealing the blanket! Punish me and let her go!”

  “Liar!” Mr. Edgar shouted. “No one in this facility has that kind of power! Now stand aside or you’ll—”

  “I can prove it!” Brystal yelled. “Elsune elknoon ahkelle-enama, delmune dalmoon ahktelle-awknamon!”

  The ancient incantation echoed through the dining hall. For a few tense moments, the administrators looked around in terror, but nothing appeared. Brystal wondered if she had mispronounced the text, because the spell was taking longer than it had in the library. Mr. and Mrs. Edgar began to laugh at her attempt to sidetrack them.

  “You foolish, girl!” Mr. Edgar sneered. “We will deal with you later! Now, wardens, take the little one outside and strap her to the—”

  Suddenly, Mr. Edgar was distracted by screeching. The noise grew louder and louder, like the thunder of an approaching storm. To everyone’s astonishment, a flock of colorful birds burst through the windows and soared into the dining hall, causing the room to erupt in panic. The birds circled Brystal like a tornado and then lunged at the faculty members, knocking the wardens and the administrators off their feet.

  Next, the flock flew to the front of the room and attacked the banner hanging above the faculty table, ripping it apart with their claws and beaks. By the time they finished, the banner was almost completely shredded and only five words of the oppressive message remained:

  Once they had finished with the banner, the birds flew out the windows, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. The dining hall froze for an entire minute of uninterrupted shock. Finally the silence was broken when Mr. Edgar let out a mortified scream and pointed to Brystal.

  “TAKE THAT HEATHEN TO THE DUNKER!” he commanded.

  Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, the wardens seized Brystal and dragged her outside. The entire facility followed them to the dunker and gathered around it. The wardens fastened the contraption’s wooden board around Brystal’s neck and wrists, then hoisted her above the deep well, her feet dangling over the icy water. The suspension was incredibly painful and Brystal could barely breathe.

  “Drop her in on my signal!” Mr. Edgar ordered. “One… two…”

  Brystal braced herself to meet the freezing water below, but oddly, Mr. Edgar never gave the wardens his signal. For a second, Brystal thought the flock of birds had returned, because Mr. and Mrs. Edgar went stiff and stared into the horizon in bewilderment. Soon the property was filled with the sounds of galloping hooves, and all the spectators around the well turned to see what the Edgars were gawking at.

  On the outer road, a golden carriage raced toward the facility at an unprecedented speed. It was pulled by four large horses with long magenta manes, but there was no driver steering the magnificent steeds. As the carriage approached, Brystal realized the creatures weren’t horses at all, but unicorns with silver horns.

  The carriage reached the facility and the gate unlocked and swung open on its own without the help of the gatekeeper. The unicorns slowed down as they trotted through the property and came to a stop directly in front of the dunker. The carriage door opened and its sole passenger stepped out. She was a beautiful woman with dark hair and bright eyes, and she wore a vibrant purple gown, a stylish fascinator, and one glove, on her left arm. The woman observed the facility with a judgmental gaze.

  “So this is where gloom comes from,” she said.

  No one said a word to the woman. All the faculty members and young women remained very still, staring at the unicorns in disbelief, like they were all experiencing the same hallucination.

  “Well, you’re a talkative bunch,” the woman said. “Then again, there isn’t much to talk about around these parts, is there? Am I right to assume this is the Bootstrap Correctional Facility?”

  “And who might you be?” Mr. Edgar exclaimed.

  “Oh, forgive my manners,” the woman said with a cheerful smile. “I’m Madame Weatherberry. I’m looking for Brystal Evergreen.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  PERMISSION

  Perhaps I wasn’t clear,” Madame Weatherberry said to the crowd of bewildered faces. “I’m looking for a young woman named Brystal Evergreen. Would one of you be kind enough to point her out?”

  Without saying a word, the Edgars, the wardens, and all the young women from the facility turned in Brystal’s direction. Madame Weatherberry hadn’t noticed her dangling above the well until now, and she gasped.

  “Is that Miss Evergreen hanging up there?” she asked in disbelief. “What on earth are you doing to her? Bring her down this instant!”

  “We do not take orders from outsiders,” Mr. Edgar shouted.

  The woman raised an eyebrow at the administrator. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll do it myself.”

  Madame Weatherberry clapped her hands, and suddenly, Brystal’s wrists and neck were released from the dunker’s wooden board. But instead of dropping into the freezing water below, Brystal’s body floated out of the well and descended gently to the ground. Mr. and Mrs. Edgar shrieked at Madame Weatherberry’s magic.

  “You demon girl!” Mrs. Edgar yelled at Brystal. “First you conjure a flock of wicked birds and now you’ve summoned a witch! You’ve plagued this facility with sin!”

  “Excuse me, but I’m not a witch,” Madame Weatherberry corrected her. “And I don’t mean to be rude, but it looks like this place has been plagued with worse things than sin. A fresh coat of paint would do wonders—wait a moment. Did you just say Miss Evergreen conjured a flock of birds?”

  The woman was clearly impressed and turned to Brystal with a wide grin. Brystal didn’t respond—she was still trying to process all the events from before Madame Weatherberry had arrived. Although she could see and hear the woman, Brystal wasn’t present enough to accept that Madame Weatherberry, the unicorns, and the golden carriage were actually in front of her.

  “You listen to me, Madame!” Mr. Edgar barked. “I don’t care who or what you are; we do not accept your kind here! Leave this facility at once!”

  “I think that’s a splendid idea,” Madame Weatherberry said. “But Miss Evergreen will be coming with me.”

  No one was more shocked to hear this than Brystal herself. She couldn’t imagine what Madame Weatherberry wanted with her, but it was just one of many things that were confusing her in the moment. But before she could ask any questions, Mr. and Mrs. Edgar stepped in front of Brystal and blocked her from going anywhere near the woman.

  “You will do no such thing!” Mr. Edgar roared. “This girl has been sentenced to the Bootstrap Correctional Facility by High Justice Mounteclair of Chariot Hi
lls! She will remain in our care until the High Justice notifies us otherwise!”

  Madame Weatherberry seemed amused by his theatrical protest. She raised an open hand and a golden scroll with a silver ribbon appeared out of thin air. Madame Weatherberry unrolled the document and presented it to the administrators. The Edgars’ eyes grew large at the sight of King Champion XIV’s curvy signature and official royal seal at the bottom of the scroll.

  “I’ve been given the king’s permission to collect Miss Evergreen, and as any law-abiding citizen knows, His Majesty’s wishes outrank the High Justice,” she said. “But if you have any objections you would like to share with the king, please, be my guest.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Edgar exchanged nervous glances and then took a defeated step aside—even they weren’t self-righteous enough to challenge the king. Brystal didn’t think she could be more puzzled than she already was, but learning that King Champion was somehow involved made her dizzy. Madame Weatherberry sensed her perplexity and knelt in front of Brystal to look her in the eye.

  “Are you all right, my dear?” she asked.

  “Sorry,” Brystal said. “I’m a bit fuzzy.”

  “I’m sure this is quite a shock for you,” the woman said. “If I were in your shoes, I’d be terrified of a strange lady with unicorns, but you have absolutely nothing to fear. I’ve come to take you away for a wonderful opportunity, and I promise you’ll be perfectly safe with me.”

  Madame Weatherberry removed a handkerchief from the pocket of her gown and wiped the dirt off Brystal’s face. There was something so warm and comforting about the woman; she practically glowed with kindness. Even in her confused state, Brystal knew she could trust her.

  “Now, Miss Evergreen, would you like to gather your things and join me in the carriage?”

  “I… I… I don’t have any things,” Brystal said.

  “Oh?” Madame Weatherberry said. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with being a minimalist. The unicorns appreciate light travelers.”

  “But where are we going?” Brystal asked.

  Instead of answering her, Madame Weatherberry eyed Mr. and Mrs. Edgar, who were shamelessly eavesdropping on her and Brystal’s conversation.

  “I’m afraid I can’t discuss that here,” she said. “But I’ll answer all your questions and explain everything on the way. Now, shall we?”

  “Can I bring my friend, Pip?” Brystal asked. “She’s small and won’t take up much room.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but the king has only given me permission to collect one girl,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Your friend will have to stay here with the others.”

  Brystal shook her head and slowly backed away from the woman. Being whisked away from the facility was a dream come true, but she would never forgive herself if she left Pip behind.

  “I can’t do it,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave her here.”

  Madame Weatherberry caressed Brystal’s cheek. “My dear, I wish you didn’t have to,” she said. “I’m not going to force you to come with me, but I believe you’re going to be very happy where we’re headed. Please reconsider.”

  “I want to,” Brystal said. “I just couldn’t live with myself if I left her—”

  “Brystal, are you nuts?”

  Brystal turned to the crowd of young women behind her and saw Pip pushing her way to the front.

  “What are you waiting for?” her friend said. “Get out of here while you can!”

  “No, Pip,” Brystal said. “I can’t leave you alone in this place!”

  “But I’m used to being alone in this place,” Pip said. “This facility has been my home since I was a toddler, remember? And technically, I’ve been getting into more trouble with you around, so maybe you’ll be doing me a favor by leaving.”

  “I don’t even know where I’m going,” Brystal said. “What if I never see you again?”

  “Then at least one of us got out of here,” she said. “And if you waste your only chance on me, I’ll never speak to you again. So there, now you have to go.”

  Pip gave Brystal no choice, but she didn’t make leaving any easier. With a heavy heart and tearful eyes, Brystal gave her small friend a hug good-bye.

  “We’ve wasted enough time for one day!” Mr. Edgar yelled at the young women. “Everyone go inside at once! Get ready for your chores!”

  Like roaches, all the young women scrambled into the facility, and Pip slipped away from Brystal’s embrace.

  Madame Weatherberry offered Brystal her hand and escorted her to the golden carriage. The inside of the carriage had tufted silk seats and velvet curtains—quite a contrast to the facility’s decor—and as she sat on the seat across from Madame Weatherberry, Brystal was reminded of how comfortable a cushion was. The carriage’s ceiling was covered in leafy vines that grew berries in every color of the rainbow.

  “Are those real?” Brystal asked.

  “Yes,” Madame Weatherberry said. “You must be famished. Please, help yourself.”

  Brystal didn’t have to be told twice. She plucked the fruit from the ceiling and devoured it whole. It was the most delicious food she had ever tasted, and every time she pulled a handful of berries from the vines, a new bunch magically appeared in its place.

  The carriage door shut on its own and the unicorns raced down the path through the property. By the time Brystal had finished eating, the Bootstrap Correctional Facility had already disappeared in the bleak distance behind them.

  “It was very considerate of you to think of your friend,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Not many people would have done that.”

  “She doesn’t deserve to be there,” Brystal said. “None of the girls do.”

  Madame Weatherberry nodded and let out a prolonged sigh. “This may be difficult to hear, but the girls at the facility are lucky compared to others I’ve seen,” she said. “What the world does to people like you and me is a downright tragedy, and humanity’s understanding of magic is one of the greatest misconceptions of our time.”

  Brystal did a double take. Madame Weatherberry’s choice of words reminded her of something she had read a couple of weeks earlier.

  “Wait a second,” she said. “Are you Celeste Weatherberry? The author of The Truth About Magic?”

  Madame Weatherberry was shocked to hear Brystal mention the title of her book.

  “Why, yes,” she said in disbelief. “But how did you know that?”

  “The Truth About Magic is the reason I was sent to the Bootstrap Correctional Facility,” Brystal explained. “I found a copy in a secret section of the library I worked at—it was with all the other books that have been banned in the Southern Kingdom.”

  “Well, I can’t imagine a greater compliment for an author than making the banned book section.” Madame Weatherberry laughed. “Did you read my book?”

  “As much as I could,” Brystal said. “I read all about the history of magic, the difference between fairies and witches, and how the world mistakes magic for witchcraft. Eventually, I got to the part with the ancient incantations and I foolishly read them aloud. The librarian caught me conjuring magic and the High Justice sent me to the facility to get cured of it.”

  “How absurd!” she said. “Magic isn’t an illness—it can’t be cured. What kind of magic did you conjure when you read the text?”

  “It’s been different each time,” Brystal explained. “The first time I covered a room in flowers, the second time I made thousands of lights appear, and this morning, a flock of birds showed up—that’s why I was hanging in the well.”

  Madame Weatherberry moved to the edge of her seat.

  “Had you experienced anything magical prior to reading the text in my book?”

  “No,” Brystal said with a shrug. “I never even suspected I was capable until then. Is that a bad thing?”

  “On the contrary,” she said. “Magic presents itself differently to each of us. Some fairies have magical traits and abilities from birth, and some develop t
hem later in life. Usually, beginners can only alter the elements around them—but a talent for manifestation is rarely found in novices. With practice and proper instruction, you could develop your abilities into something quite extraordinary.”

  Madame Weatherberry became lost in thought and rubbed her chin as she thought of Brystal’s potential. The woman’s curiosity made Brystal uneasy—she still had so many questions, and they only seemed to multiply in Madame Weatherberry’s presence.

  “Madame Weatherberry, can you please tell me what’s going on?” Brystal asked. “Why did the king give you permission to take me out of the facility?”

  “Oh, I apologize for leaving you in suspense,” Madame Weatherberry said. “As you may have gathered from reading The Truth About Magic, I’m on a mission to change the world’s perception of magic. And if everything goes according to my plan, we can create a new world that finally accepts and respects people like us.”

  “But how?” she asked. “Where do you even begin?”

  Madame Weatherberry’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “With a school for magic.”

  “A school?”

  “Right now, I’m calling it Madame Weatherberry’s Academy of Magical Comprehension, but it’s still a working title,” she said. “With compassion and guidance, I’m going to teach young fairies to harness and develop their abilities. Once their training is complete, my students and I will use magic to help and heal people around the world. With time, our acts of kindness will change people’s opinions, and they’ll realize magic isn’t the vile practice they fear. The magical community will be embraced, and all the senseless violence and hatred toward us will become a thing of the past.”

  “And you want me to join your academy?” Brystal asked in shock.

  “Of course I do,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Why else would I have made the trip to collect you?”