by Chris Colfer
Xanthous went quiet as he considered Madame Weatherberry’s proposal. Brystal crossed her fingers in the carriage, hoping the boy would accept the offer.
“Well, since I’m not sinking to the bottom of a lake anymore, my schedule is pretty open,” he said. “If you’re sure I won’t be a problem, then I would love to join your school!”
Madame Weatherberry clapped in celebration. “That’s wonderful, dear!” she said. “I know you’re going to be very happy there. Now let’s get you something a little more comfortable to wear for our journey.”
Madame Weatherberry twirled a finger, and thread by thread, Xanthous’s burned clothes grew back into the brown pants and patchy vest he’d worn before his fire started. She escorted the boy to the golden carriage and helped him climb aboard. Xanthous was surprised to see Brystal waiting inside and became shy.
“Xanthous, I’d like you to meet your new classmate Brystal Evergreen,” Madame Weatherberry said. “She’s very powerful, just like you.”
“Hello, Xanthous,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you!”
Brystal tried to shake his hand, but Xanthous quickly dodged the gesture.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s nothing personal, I’m just used to burning things.”
After a moment, Xanthous cautiously shook Brystal’s hand and was relieved when he didn’t hurt her. Even though the Muter Medal suppressed his powers, Xanthous had a very warm touch.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Brystal,” he said.
Madame Weatherberry and Xanthous took their seats and the carriage door closed behind them. The fairy retrieved the Map of Magic from the compartment under the armrest and double-checked the whereabouts of her third and final recruit, in the In-Between. Once she confirmed the location, she snapped her fingers and the unicorns lunged forward, pulling the golden carriage in a new direction. Xanthous’s eyes went wide as the Northwest Foothills raced past his window.
“This is unbelievable!” he exclaimed. “We must be going a hundred miles an hour!”
“Isn’t it amazing?” Brystal said. “I’ve traveled across the kingdom with Madame Weatherberry and my heart still flutters when I look out the window.”
“How long have you known you were magic?” he asked.
“It was a recent discovery,” she said. “But if it’s any consolation, I understand what you’re feeling. The second time I did magic, I was arrested and then locked away in a correctional facility. It’s difficult to imagine good things can come from magic, too, but I look forward to Madame Weatherberry convincing us.”
Xanthous nodded sadly. “It’ll be a miracle if anything good comes out of my magic.”
“I bet you’ll be surprised,” Brystal said. “You may think it’s a curse now, but I know a few places that would be lucky to have a boy like you.”
“Like where?” he asked.
“The correctional facility I was sent to, for example,” she explained. “It was so cold at night my friend would sneak me an extra blanket so I didn’t freeze to death. I would have given anything to be near one of your fires then! And I’m sure you would be a big help with all the trouble they’ve been having in the Northern Kingdom lately.”
Suddenly, Madame Weatherberry looked up from the Map of Magic and glared at Brystal like she had said something controversial.
“What did you just say about the Northern Kingdom?” she asked.
Madame Weatherberry’s intense reaction surprised Brystal—it was the first time she had seen the fairy without her trademark charm.
“I just said the Northern Kingdom could use a boy like Xanthous,” Brystal said.
“Yes, but why?” Madame Weatherberry pressed. “What have you heard?”
“Just that they’ve had blizzards,” Brystal said. “That’s all.”
Once the subject was clarified, Madame Weatherberry’s cheerful manner slowly returned, but a hint of aggression remained in her eyes.
“Oh, yes—the blizzards,” she said. “I heard about those, too. Poor people, let’s hope the weather changes for them soon. Forgive me, Brystal, I misunderstood what you were saying.”
“Madame Weatherberry, is anything else happening in the Northern Kingdom that we should be worried about?” Brystal asked.
“Nothing to trouble you with, my dear,” she said. “Just politics as usual—it’s all quite dull, actually. Forget I mentioned it.”
Out of respect, Brystal didn’t inquire any further, but Madame Weatherberry’s suspicious behavior made one thing abundantly clear: there was something about the Northern Kingdom she wasn’t telling them.
The golden carriage was quiet as it traveled south from the Northwest Foothills. Although she didn’t say anything, Brystal’s mind was racing with exciting thoughts about her future at the school for magic. Xanthous was still in awe over how fast the carriage was moving and whipped his head from side to side to try to catch a glimpse of the blurry landscape outside. Madame Weatherberry mostly kept to herself, studying the Map of Magic in silence. At one point, something strange seemed to catch her attention and she stared at the map even more intently for a few minutes without looking up.
“Madame?” Brystal asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Madame Weatherberry said. “However, there is something very curious about our next recruit’s location.”
“Are they moving, too?” Brystal asked.
“On the contrary,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Her whereabouts have remained exactly the same for as long as I’ve been aware of her. That should make her easy to find, but I’m interested in why she hasn’t moved at all.”
“What’s her name?” Brystal asked.
“Emerelda Stone,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Brystal said. “It’ll be nice to know a girl I have something in common with.”
An hour or so into their journey from the Northwest Foothills, the unicorns made an abrupt right turn and began traveling west. Brystal wasn’t expecting the change in direction and glanced down at the map in Madame Weatherberry’s lap.
“Are we going the right way?” Xanthous asked. “We’re getting awfully close to the western border.”
“That’s exactly where we’re headed,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Miss Stone lives a few miles west of the Southern Kingdom in the coal mines of the In-Between.”
The mention of the infamous territory between the kingdoms caught Xanthous’s attention. He sat straight up in his seat and glanced at his companions with big, fearful eyes.
“We’re going into the In-Between?” Xanthous gasped. “But isn’t it dangerous?”
“Oh, it’s more than dangerous,” Madame Weatherberry said. “There are creatures living in the forests of the In-Between that humankind has only seen in nightmares. Food and water are limited, so the inhabitants are constantly fighting over resources. People are wise to keep their distance. That’s why it’s the perfect location for the academy.”
Xanthous’s anxiety doubled. “The academy is in the In-Between, too?” he asked.
“Yes,” Madame Weatherberry said with a shrug. “Did I not mention it?”
“I’m afraid you left out that detail,” he said.
“Well, fear not, you have me to protect you,” Madame Weatherberry said with a prideful nod. “My academy is in a very secure area of the southeast In-Between, and the property is protected by powerful magic.”
“What about the coal mines?” he asked. “Are they safe?”
“We should be perfectly fine,” Madame Weatherberry said. “The coal mines are only a few minutes’ walk past the western border.”
Xanthous shook his head like his ears were deceiving him. “Did you say a few minutes’ walk?” he asked in a panic. “We’re getting out of the carriage?”
“Of course we’re walking,” Madame Weatherberry said with a laugh. “Four unicorns and a golden carriage would only bring attention to ourselves. As long as w
e stay quiet and calm, everything will be fine.”
Xanthous gulped, unconvinced by the fairy’s assessment. Brystal trusted Madame Weatherberry slightly more than he did, but her stomach tightened at the idea of entering the dangerous forest. Young women in the Southern Kingdom were rarely taught about worldly matters, but even they knew to avoid the In-Between.
The unicorns slowed down as they approached the western border. As Brystal and Xanthous anxiously looked out the window, there was no argument about where the Southern Kingdom ended and where the In-Between began. The horizon was consumed by a thick and monstrous forest. All the trees were gigantic, their trunks were crooked, and their mangled branches stretched into the sky like the arms of prisoners reaching for freedom.
As they moved closer, the carriage passed a sign that gave Brystal and Xanthous chills:
“Did they have to paint the sign with such a creepy font?” Xanthous asked. “I mean, was that really necessary?”
The golden carriage pulled off the road and stopped at the edge of the forest. Madame Weatherberry happily hopped down from the carriage without a care in the world and then helped—forced, rather—Brystal and Xanthous out as well. Once all three passengers were outside, Madame Weatherberry snapped her fingers and the large unicorns began to shrink. The majestic steeds were transformed into small field mice with horns and bushy magenta tails. The fairy snapped her fingers again and the golden carriage shrunk to the size of a brooch, which Madame Weatherberry pinned to her gown. With a third and final snap, a large piece of cheese appeared on the ground for the mice to snack on.
“We should be back in an hour or so,” Madame Weatherberry told the mice. “Have a nice break and enjoy the cheese—oh, and please watch out for owls. You remember what happened to Prancy.”
Brystal and Xanthous followed the fairy back to the road and they continued into the In-Between on foot. The path was so bumpy and narrow a carriage wouldn’t have managed. The tree branches filled the sky above them and blocked most of the sunlight, making it impossible to tell the time. The deeper they walked, the more jittery Brystal and Xanthous became. Madame Weatherberry was amused by their paranoia.
They were halfway to the mine when two enormous creatures lunged at them from the dark forest. Brystal and Xanthous screamed and grabbed each other in terror. As the figures stepped into the light, the travelers realized they had crossed paths with two ogres. The first ogre had brown skin and his face was covered in bone piercings. The second ogre was green and covered in warts. Both creatures had an underbite with sharp teeth, their clothes were made from the fur of several dead animals, and they each carried a club carved from a log.
“Well, look what’s wandered into the woods,” the brown ogre sneered.
“You must have gotten lost if you’re all the way out here,” the green ogre growled.
The ogres circled the travelers like wolves circling prey. Brystal and Xanthous were so scared they closed their eyes, but Madame Weatherberry never even flinched.
“Actually, we’re perfectly content, thank you,” she said. “It’s very kind of you to check on us, though.”
Brystal, Xanthous, and the ogres were equally surprised by Madame Weatherberry’s cheerful response. She proceeded down the road and pulled her students with her, but the ogres sprinted ahead and blocked the path with their clubs.
“You don’t think you’re getting away that easily, do you?” the brown ogre asked.
“Fresh meat is hard to find around here,” the green ogre said, and licked his lips.
Madame Weatherberry eyed the creatures like they were disobedient children.
“Just so we’re clear, you’ve interrupted our journey with the intention of eating us, is that correct? And your obscene gestures and suggestive language are not meant to be interpreted as sarcasm, is that right?”
The ogres shared a puzzled glance—they didn’t understand all the words Madame Weatherberry was using.
“Of course we’re going to eat you!” the brown ogre roared.
“How wonderful!” Madame Weatherberry cheered.
“Wonderful?” Brystal exclaimed. “Madame, how is this wonderful?”
“We’re about to be their lunch!” Xanthous cried.
“The ogres have just given me the perfect opportunity to teach a valuable lesson,” Madame Weatherberry explained. “As I’ve said before, magic comes from a place of love and joy within us. Its purpose is to stabilize, improve, and nourish. However, on the rare occasion when it can be justified, magic can also be used for self-defense. By admitting their intentions to harm us, these ogres have given us permission to—”
“MADAME WEATHERBERRY, LOOK OUT!” Brystal screamed.
The brown ogre raised his club high above his head and swung it in their direction. Without looking, Madame Weatherberry snapped her fingers and the club crumbled to the ground before it struck them. She whipped around and pointed both hands at the creatures. The ogres rose into the air and spun like cyclones, and the dead leaves covering the forest floor twirled around them. Madame Weatherberry dropped her hands and the spinning stopped, but instead of ogres, two small turtles fell to the ground.
“As I was saying,” she continued, “by admitting their intentions to harm us, these ogres have given us permission to use our magic to stop them. And now that they’ve been transformed into smaller animals, they’ll learn a much-needed lesson in humility. It’s a win-win for everyone. Any questions?”
Brystal and Xanthous were flabbergasted by what they had just witnessed. When the feeling finally returned to their bodies, Xanthous raised his hand.
“Yes, Xanthous?” Madame Weatherberry asked.
“Will you teach us how to do that?” he asked eagerly.
“In time,” she said with a smile. “Now let’s move on.”
Madame Weatherberry led Brystal and Xanthous a few more miles into the In-Between and the road finally came to the entrance of an enormous coal mine at the base of a mountain. Brystal and Xanthous were amazed to see that the mine was operated entirely by dwarfs. The small miners pushed carts of coal out of the mountain and dumped the dark substance into a huge pile outside. Once the carts were emptied, the miners returned to the mine to fetch more, and the pile of coal was separated and boxed by packers.
The workers were used to seeing ferocious animals and dangerous creatures emerge from the forest around them, but as Madame Weatherberry, Brystal, and Xanthous walked out from the trees, they all froze and stared at their visitors in disbelief. The dwarfs guarding the entrance were so surprised they didn’t even question the strange visitors as they strolled past them.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Madame Weatherberry said with a friendly wave. “Keep up the good work.”
They entered a dark tunnel and it took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust. The clanking of pickaxes grew louder the farther they walked. Eventually, the tunnel brought them to a massive cavern where miners chiseled coal on multiple levels around them. In the center of the cavern, built on a cluster of stalagmites, was an observation deck, where an older dwarf sat behind a miniature desk. He wore a suit and tie and squinted through a monocle as he studied blueprints of the mountain.
“Excuse me, sir?” Madame Weatherberry called to him. “Will you please point me in the direction of whoever is in charge?”
The old dwarf looked up from the blueprints and was stunned to see that a woman and children had wandered into the mine. One by one, the miners throughout the cavern noticed their visitors and dropped their pickaxes to watch them.
“That would be me, ma’am,” the old dwarf said. “I’m Mr. Slate, the Miner Superior.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Slate,” she said. “My name is Madame Weatherberry and these are my students, Brystal Evergreen and Xanthous Hayfield.”
“What brings you to the mine?” Mr. Slate asked.
“I’m looking for a young woman named Emerelda Stone,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Can you please tell me where she is?”
All the dwarfs went quiet and the cavern became very tense. Mr. Slate exchanged an uneasy glance with the miners around him.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no one here by that name,” the dwarf said.
“Are you certain?” Madame Weatherberry said. “Because according to my map, Miss Stone is somewhere within the mine. Perhaps she goes by another name?”
“Your map must have misled you, then, because I assure you, there are no young women here,” Mr. Slate said. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing. However, I’d be happy to offer you a discount on our coal so you don’t leave empty-handed.”
Madame Weatherberry eyed the Miner Superior suspiciously.
“Mr. Slate, my map doesn’t lie,” she said. “I know there is a girl with magical abilities nearby, and if I discover you are harboring Miss Stone against her will, I will use force to liberate her.”
Beads of sweat appeared on Mr. Slate’s forehead. “I just told you, there is no young woman in this mine,” he said. “Now please leave before I have you removed. We don’t want any trouble here.”
Madame Weatherberry turned to Brystal and Xanthous with an enthusiastic smile they weren’t expecting to see.
“Our luck continues!” she said happily. “Mr. Slate has given me another opportunity to teach a valuable lesson. You see, when we have reason to believe someone is in danger or being held hostage, magic can be used to rescue them. Watch this.”
With one flick of her wrist, all the miners throughout the cavern suddenly hit the floor like dominoes and fell into a deep sleep. Mr. Slate dived under his desk to avoid the spell, but Madame Weatherberry spared him.
“You horrible witch!” Mr. Slate screamed. “What have you done to them?”
“I’ve halted your production and given your miners a rest,” she explained. “You will get your employees back as soon as you show us the girl.”
“No!” the dwarf yelled. “I won’t let you take her from us!”
“Mr. Slate, please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be,” Madame Weatherberry said. “I wouldn’t enjoy turning your coal mine into a fertilizer plant, but I’m certainly not above it.”