by Chris Colfer
The castle was dark and quiet as Brystal moved through it, but she found the solitude comforting. She stepped outside and stood on the castle’s front steps and was happy to see that the rain had finally stopped. The night sky was starting to lighten as dawn approached, and the gryphons were already awake, hunting for breakfast. Watching the majestic creatures flying through the air reminded Brystal of how lucky she was to live in such a wonderful place. She had been at the academy for less than a month, but already Brystal couldn’t imagine living anywhere else in the world—and she hoped she’d never have to.
As she gazed around the property, admiring all the colorful trees and flowers, Brystal spotted something shiny moving toward her in the distance. Madame Weatherberry’s golden carriage had returned to the academy, and Brystal was so thankful to see it she jumped up and down with excitement. Eventually the carriage pulled up to the castle’s front steps and Brystal ran to it to greet her teacher.
“Madame Weatherberry!” she cried. “I’m so glad you’re back! I was worried you—”
The carriage door swung open and Brystal stopped in her tracks—she hardly recognized the woman inside. Madame Weatherberry had aged another decade, she wore a thick violet coat that covered her whole body from the neck down, and there was a large black bruise on the left side of her face. She looked at Brystal and the castle in a daze like she was confused about where she was. Madame Weatherberry tried to climb down from the carriage, but she was so weak she could barely stand, and the fairy collapsed on the ground.
“Madame Weatherberry!” Brystal screamed.
Madame Weatherberry spent the whole day resting in her office. The only person she allowed inside was Mrs. Vee, and that was to deliver bandages and rubbing alcohol. Brystal paced outside the doors and waited for the housekeeper to emerge with an update. When Mrs. Vee finally stepped out, the concern in her eyes told Brystal everything she needed to know.
“How is she?” Brystal asked.
“Better, but not by much,” Mrs. Vee said. “I cleaned the wound on her face, but it was the only injury she would let me look at. A few of her bones might be broken, but she wouldn’t let me get near them.”
“Can’t she heal herself with magic?” Brystal asked.
“Usually,” Mrs. Vee said. “Unless the injuries were caused by magic.”
“Did she tell you what happened?” Brystal asked.
“She said she slipped and fell while she was visiting her friend,” Mrs. Vee said.
“A fall?” Brystal said. “She said a fall caused this?”
Mrs. Vee sighed. “I don’t want to start rumors, but if I’m honest with you, I’m starting to get a little suspicious. With all the strange letters, the unexpected trips, the witches, and now this—I think something is going on that Madame Weatherberry isn’t telling us.”
Clearly, the housekeeper thought her suspicion was a brand-new discovery.
“I’m glad you found me this morning,” Mrs. Vee said. “Lord knows Madame Weatherberry would rather have crawled into the castle than call for help. She wants to save the world, but heaven forbid if someone cares for her. What did you tell your classmates?”
“I just told them Madame Weatherberry returned early this morning and wasn’t feeling well,” Brystal said. “I tried to be as vague as possible so they wouldn’t worry.”
“Well, I hope it works,” Mrs. Vee said. “Madame Weatherberry said she would like to speak to you now. Maybe you’ll have better luck finding out the truth than I did. But I have to warn you, she’s not in her normal spirits.”
The housekeeper headed down the floating staircase to put the unused bandages away. Brystal knocked on Madame Weatherberry’s door and peered inside the office.
“Madame Weatherberry?” Brystal asked. “Mrs. Vee said you wanted to see me.”
The fairy was seated behind her glass desk and looked so exhausted Brystal thought she might fall asleep at any moment. She had popped the collar of her violet coat to conceal the bruise on her face. The veil on her fascinator was lowered to cover her weary, bloodshot eyes. Besides being tired and injured, Madame Weatherberry was completely drained of her cheerful disposition, and she stared at the floor with a melancholy longing.
“Close the door behind you,” she said softly.
Brystal followed her instructions and then sat at Madame Weatherberry’s desk.
“How are you feeling?” Brystal asked. “I heard you had a bad fall while you were visiting your—”
“You can stop pretending, Brystal,” Madame Weatherberry said sharply. “I know you’re aware of much more than you’re letting on.”
Brystal’s initial instinct was to act like she didn’t know what the fairy was talking about, but as Madame Weatherberry looked deeply into her eyes, Brystal realized a performance was useless.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“Sometimes magic has a mind of its own,” Madame Weatherberry said. “On your first day at the academy, I suspected the castle put you in a bedroom directly above my office for a reason. It wasn’t until I was leaving with the witches, and you hugged me good-bye, that I realized why. The castle put you in that room because it wanted you to spy on me. It knew we would be having this conversation long before I did.”
“Madame Weatherberry, I don’t understand,” Brystal said. “What conversation are we having?”
“Before we get into that, I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” the fairy said. “I’m sure you’ve developed a few theories to explain my questionable behavior. So tell me what you think is going on, and I’ll fill in the blanks.”
Brystal was thrilled for an opportunity to finally learn the truth, but she worried that Madame Weatherberry wasn’t in the right state of mind to be handing out information.
“Are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked. “I don’t want you to regret it later.”
“I insist,” Madame Weatherberry said.
“All right, then,” Brystal said. “From the information I’ve gathered so far, I know you haven’t been leaving the academy to visit a sick friend—you’ve been traveling to the Northern Kingdom to help solve something called the Northern Conflict.”
“And what do you suspect the Northern Conflict is?” Madame Weatherberry asked.
Brystal hesitated to respond. “As ridiculous as it sounds, I believe the Northern Conflict is just a code name for a woman known as the Snow Queen.”
“Go on,” the fairy said.
“Well, the Snow Queen is a very powerful witch who’s been attacking the Northern Kingdom,” Brystal continued. “She’s covered the kingdom in icy blizzards and caused massive amounts of destruction. No matter what the Northern Kingdom’s army does, they haven’t been able to defeat her yet. Before you had the idea to start our academy, you saw defeating the Snow Queen as an opportunity to gain worldwide acceptance for the magical community. You thought if someone like you saved the world, then the world would finally have a reason to respect people like us. So you teamed up with the witches and created a plan to stop her, but it’s been more difficult than you predicted.”
Brystal felt silly after hearing herself say it all out loud. She half expected Madame Weatherberry to laugh at the outlandish theory, but the fairy never flinched.
“You’re only wrong about one thing,” Madame Weatherberry said.
“Which part?” Brystal asked.
“The Snow Queen is the sick friend that I’ve been visiting,” she said. “I haven’t been lying about that. After a very tragic loss, my dear friend Queenie became infected with hate—and hate is the most powerful disease on the planet. For years, I watched the illness consume her and change her into a monster, and regrettably, I did nothing to help her. By the time she was wreaking havoc on the Northern Kingdom, it was too late to reason with her. Queenie has been blinded by vengeance, and now violence is the only language she speaks.”
“But how could you be friends with a witch in the first place?” Brystal asked. “
Wasn’t she full of evil and darkness to begin with?”
“It’s possible to love a person beyond their demons, Brystal,” Madame Weatherberry said. “After all, there was a chance that Lucy was a witch, but it didn’t stop you from following her into the In-Between. You chose to love Lucy for who she was instead of what she was, and I made the same choice with Queenie. But unlike you, I failed Queenie as a friend. The angrier and more hateful she became, the more distance I put between us. I abandoned her when she needed me most, and now I’m partially to blame for what she’s become.”
“Then she’s still alive, isn’t she?” Brystal asked. “If you had already defeated her, you wouldn’t be referring to her in present tense.”
“My friend has been dead for years,” she said. “But unfortunately, the Snow Queen is still very much alive, and stronger than ever.”
Brystal glanced up at the enlarged Map of Magic above the fireplace. “If she’s so strong, why doesn’t she appear on the map?” she asked.
“I’m afraid you won’t find the Snow Queen on any Map of Magic,” Madame Weatherberry said. “She’s made herself untraceable so she can attack without warning. I’ve managed to stop her destruction from spreading beyond the Northern Kingdom, but each encounter is more taxing than the last.”
“You aren’t going to face her again, are you?” Brystal asked.
Madame Weatherberry closed her eyes and nodded in despair.
“I’m afraid I have no choice,” she said. “No one else can face the Snow Queen. Right now I’m the only thing standing in the way of her attempts at global obliteration.”
“But, Madame Weatherberry, you can’t!” Brystal objected. “Fighting her in your condition would be suicide!”
Madame Weatherberry raised a hand to silence Brystal, and her eyes beamed with a grave urgency.
“Now we must have the conversation I was referring to earlier,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Please don’t share this with the others, but there is a very strong possibility I won’t survive defeating the Snow Queen. I remain optimistic, but one must never let positivity outweigh practicality. It’s only a matter of time before I’m called back to the Northern Kingdom, and if I should perish, I want you to take over the academy.”
“Me?” Brystal asked in shock. “But what about Mrs. Vee? Or Tangerina? Or Skylene?”
“Mrs. Vee and the girls aren’t as strong as you are, Brystal,” the fairy said. “From the moment I placed the magic wand in your hand, and watched your star on the Map of Magic grow, I knew you were the only person who could replace me. So please, if I don’t live to see another year, promise me you’ll continue my work, promise me you’ll help your classmates reach their full potential, and promise me you’ll use your magic to help and heal people, and change the world’s perspective of the magical community.”
Tears ran down Brystal’s face as she imagined a world without Madame Weatherberry. She couldn’t believe the responsibility her teacher was asking her to accept, but Brystal knew in her heart there was nothing she wouldn’t do for the fairy.
“No one could ever replace you, Madame Weatherberry,” she said. “I could never repay you for the life you’ve given me, but I promise to continue your legacy in your absence, whether that day comes soon, or decades from now.”
A faint grin grew on the fairy’s face, but it quickly faded. Brystal could tell there was something else that Madame Weatherberry needed to discuss with her and it was a topic the fairy dreaded with all her might.
“And now I’m afraid I have an even greater request to ask of you,” Madame Weatherberry said. “It brings me great pain to place such a heavy burden on your shoulders, but there is no way around it.”
Brystal was confused. She couldn’t imagine a bigger task than the one she had already accepted.
“What is it?” she asked.
Madame Weatherberry took a deep breath before making the difficult request.
“In the event that I perish without defeating the Snow Queen,” she said with difficulty, “then you must kill her, Brystal.”
Brystal felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. Her heart began racing, her palms became sweaty, and the office started spinning around her.
“Madame Weatherberry, I can’t kill the Snow Queen!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never hurt anyone before! I couldn’t even defend myself against the witch hunters—I panicked under the pressure!”
“That wasn’t your fault—it was mine,” Madame Weatherberry said. “I’ve made a grave mistake as your teacher. My lessons have been preparing you and your classmates for the world I wanted you to live in, but I have not prepared you for the world that actually exists. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to begin instructing you and the others in how to use magic to defend yourselves. You may not be ready to face the Snow Queen today, but one day you will be.”
“But, Madame Weatherberry, I’m only fourteen years old!” Brystal reminded her. “I’m just a child! You can’t ask me to do this!”
“Brystal, you may be young, but you’ve never had the luxury of being a child,” Madame Weatherberry said. “You’ve been a fighter since the day you were born. You looked beyond the limits the world placed upon you and strove for a better life, and now you must look beyond the limits you’re placing upon yourself and strive for a better world. If neither of us can successfully defeat the Snow Queen, then everything—the world, the academy, and life as we know it—will be destroyed.”
Madame Weatherberry was putting Brystal in an impossible position. She had never killed anything before, but now she was being asked to kill the most powerful witch in the world. Brystal wanted to refuse her request with every fiber of her being, but Madame Weatherberry gazed at her with such desperation in her eyes, Brystal didn’t have the heart to disappoint the fairy. She looked to the floor and reluctantly nodded in agreement.
“Okay,” Brystal said. “I hope and pray it never comes to that, but if you can’t kill the Snow Queen… I will.”
After Brystal made her second promise, Madame Weatherberry closed her eyes, leaned back in her chair, and sighed with relief.
“Thank you, Brystal,” the fairy said. “You have no idea how comforting it is to hear you say that. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I should rest. We’ll both need all our strength for the days ahead.”
The next morning, Madame Weatherberry met her students and apprentices on the castle’s front lawn to begin their first lesson in magical self-defense. The fairy hadn’t joined them for breakfast, and when she finally appeared, the children were shocked to see their teacher in such a fragile state. Besides her bruised face, Madame Weatherberry walked with a glass cane and needed Mrs. Vee’s assistance to climb down the castle’s front steps. She was completely drained of her usual charm and energy, and had to conduct the lesson while sitting on a glass stool.
“Please forgive my delicate appearance,” Madame Weatherberry told her concerned pupils. “I’m recovering from a nasty fall I had while visiting my friend.”
“Did you fall off a cliff?” Lucy asked.
“It looks worse than it feels,” Madame Weatherberry said, and swiftly changed the subject. “Now for today’s lesson, we’ll be using our magic for a purpose we haven’t explored yet. It doesn’t matter how much joy and comfort we spread; because of the challenging times we live in, it’s very likely that we’ll cross paths with people and creatures who wish to harm us. And when the situation is justified, we can use our magic to protect ourselves and others from danger. Your assignment this morning is to use your magic to defend yourself from the forces trying to hurt you. Xanthous, we’ll start with you.”
Xanthous gulped nervously. “And what kind of forces will I be defending myself from?” he asked.
Instead of responding, Madame Weatherberry tapped her cane on the ground six times, and six scarecrows appeared in the nearby field. The fairy tapped her cane again, and the first scarecrow came to life and detached itself from its wooden post. As soon as its feet touched the
ground, the scarecrow charged toward Xanthous with arms flailing in all directions. The boy screamed and the scarecrow chased him in circles around the property.
“I’m not ready for this!” Xanthous yelled. “I think someone else should go first!”
“These situations can be alarming, but it’s important to remain calm and keep a clear head,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Take a deep breath and imagine the quickest way to disarm your attacker.”
Despite the fairy’s recommendations, Xanthous couldn’t summon tranquility to save his life. The scarecrow eventually caught up to the boy and wrestled him to the ground. His classmates desperately wanted to help him, but Madame Weatherberry wouldn’t let them intervene. Xanthous removed his Muter Medal and, thanks to his anxiety, his body was instantly engulfed in flames. The scarecrow was burned to a crisp and crumbled into a pile of ashes. Xanthous’s classmates cheered for him, and the boy stayed on the ground until he caught his breath.
“Well done, Xanthous,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Tangerina, you’re up next.”
For the rest of the morning, Madame Weatherberry’s students took turns magically defending themselves from the enchanted scarecrows. Tangerina splashed her scarecrow’s feet with honey, and it became stuck to the ground. Emerelda trapped her scarecrow inside an emerald cage before it even climbed down from its wooden post. Skylene pointed her finger at her scarecrow, and a powerful geyser erupted from her fingertip and ripped it to shreds. Brystal waved her wand, and a flock of white doves raised her scarecrow into the air and dropped it into the sparkling ocean behind the castle. Lucy clapped her hands, and her scarecrow was crushed by a massive piano that fell from the sky.
“Finally, something I’m good at!” Lucy said.
Madame Weatherberry’s self-defense lesson was by far the most enjoyable lesson the students and apprentices had participated in. They laughed and applauded one another as they defeated the scarecrows one by one. Brystal was envious of the fun her classmates were having with the assignment. Unbeknownst to the others, Madame Weatherberry’s lesson was designed specifically for her, and the exercises were preparing Brystal for a potential confrontation with the Snow Queen. It was hard for her to enjoy herself when the fate of the world depended on how well she perfected her skills.