Spellbound: Book One (The Spell Series)

by Herndon, Brittney

  “When our worlds were still connected, the kings of your people would come to our kind for wisdom and guidance. We were their advisors and friends, but your kings developed a lust for power and we could no longer align ourselves with your kind. I had believed that connection had been severed all those years ago, but it seems that connection has found its way here in you.”

  “Me?”

  “I could sense it the moment you entered this world. You are a descendent of the ancient bloodline.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite,” the Dragon Turtle assured. “And the Remlock hiding away in your bag only confirms my suspicions.”

  “Remlock?”

  “Small, seemingly insignificant objects that are enchanted to lead their owners to hidden treasures.”

  “I don’t have anything like that in my bag,” Irene said.

  “Oh, really? Are you sure?”

  Irene pulled the small pink pearl from its resting place. “You mean this?”

  “Whatever you do, don’t lose it. It has finally found its way back to you. It will lead you to the Celestial Crown, the Old Kingdom’s most powerful and valuable relic.”

  Before Irene could probe further about this mysterious crown, the Dragon Turtle changed the subject. “Now, let us get to more important matters. You have come here for a Dragon Turtle tear, yes? You must be very careful with what I am going to give you. Dragon Turtle tears are very powerful and are used in an assortment of dangerous spells, although I have never heard of it being used for a curing potion.”

  They returned to the same little island and slid off the Dragon Turtle’s shell. The great turtle slightly bent her head as a lone teardrop broke from her ebony iris and fell to the ground. Irene collected the salty liquid in a vile from her pouch and then expressed her deepest gratitude.

  Irene mounted the Red Raven and silently wondered how they were going to return to their own world. As if sensing her question, the Dragon Turtle turn to face the orange horizon. Irene’s gaze followed, meeting the bright light as it exploded and encased them again.

  Conner’s voice drifted to Irene’s ears and she opened her eyes to discover them hovering in a night sky, the welcomed sight of Sora’s cabin just below their feet. They raced to beat the impending dawn and just as the new days light began to peek over the distant mountains, they landed.

  The necklace gave a faint click and fell to her feet. Silence descended like a fog, and all eyes moved to stare at the heavy chain as Irene scooped it up and, with one last look, stuffed it into her satchel. They did not speak as Irene retreated into herself, hungry for a moment to reflect on her own feelings. She knew this would be the first of many days she would remember her journey, her brief freedom, and her Alec.

  Alec. His name resided in her head and Irene peered into the thick woodland as if his silhouette would emerge at the mere mention of his name. When he did not appear, Irene felt her heart clench.

  “I suppose my role is done, but I must say that I did not expect to see their kind here.” The Red Raven declared before taking his leave.

  “Epona? Archer? How did you find me?” Irene was delighted to be greeted by her friendly companions, that is, until Epona spoke.

  “Irene,” Epona frantically began. “I couldn’t find you. We’ve been waiting here for your return.”

  Archer cut into Epona’s rambling. “Tell me! Are the three ingredients for your potion Black Lilac, a Dragon Turtle tear, and the feather of a Red Raven?” Archer asked and Irene nodded. “I knew the moment Epona came to me on your behalf that something was not right. Do not allow that witch to give that potion to anyone!”

  Irene stumbled backwards as the kitchen door flew open. Sora had arrived, and behind her stood Sir Alden.

  “I see you have finally made your way back,” Sora hissed. “And with everything in tow, I hope.”

  Irene could not answer, she could barely breathe. The agonizing prospect that she had been tricked was still too fresh on her conscience for her to reply. Finally finding her voice, she did the only thing she could do.

  “Sir Alden, Sora has deceived you. This potion will not cure the king!” Irene pleaded. Alden gave a mysterious smirk and turned to the old witch. “Oh? Is this true? Are you trying to trick me?”

  “Of course not!” Sora answered. “The potion is just what you asked for.”

  They both laughed, but Irene found very little funny.

  “I’m impressed,” he chuckled. Alden’s soft eyes had suddenly become clouded with an emotion that caused Irene to shiver. “I thought you said your servant girl was dim-witted. She seems pretty sharp to me.”

  She had been a fool to not see their deceit. Irene was now the only obstacle standing between Alden and the fate of the king. Her feet were moving before she gave the command.

  “Where are you going? You know you won’t get far.” Sora’s mocking words hung heavy in the air. She reached the all too familiar boundary and stopped.

  “What are you doing? Keep going!” Epona screamed.

  “I can’t,” Irene whispered, staring at the gurgling stream that marked the edge of the spell’s boundaries.

  Alden reached out to grab her, but missed as Archer and Conner came to her rescue, latching on to his exposed legs. Desperation overtook her senses and Irene jumped, watching the stream disappear behind her. The harsh effects of the spell began to overtake her body before the heels of her shoes had even touched the other side.

  Irene’s mind became hazy, her heart pounding. Falling on her knees, Irene choked out a cry and started crawling, wanting nothing more than to get to Alec and warn him. Conner’s voice echoed in the distance and she heard a splash before feeling a tug at her side. Alden had finally caught her, ripping the satchel from her body.

  She could hear him reveling in his victory, Sora joining him to loudly mock her. Irene’s mind was quickly fading and she knew this time she would not be so lucky as to be saved, this time she would not awaken to damp cave floor. This time, she would die.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  They had not left her side, although she lay motionless. The woods, themselves, seem to be frozen in time as if reflecting the solemn moods of her comrades who did not dare to even speak. They watched with hopeful hearts, the shallow but steady rhythm of her breathing. Alden and Sora had long ago departed, leaving the young woman for dead.

  “I don’t understand,” Conner whispered. “The spell was supposed to kill her. How can she still be alive?”

  “Wait, she’s waking up!” Epona e and, indeed, Irene was beginning to stir. She sat upward, hands shaking.

  “Am I dead?” she asked. It was too good to be true, she told herself. She could not-- should not-- be alive. “The spell didn’t kill me?”

  “I could have told you it wouldn’t if I had known about the spell in the first place.” Archer said. “Either the witch did not understand the true intentions of the curse or she was hoping to control you with fear. These spells were originally created to trap those will dark souls, those wishing to do harm. Your heart is too pure to be held by such a curse.”

  “You mean, I could have left anytime?” Irene nearly choked on her words.

  “Fate had not designed for you to uncover this truth until now. You did not know because you were not meant to know.”

  Anger ignited her body like a raging fire. She had been tricked and so had her mother. “Where are they?” she asked.

  “I do not know, but the potion will take some time to create.”

  “We have to stop them. King Launder--”

  “Will not die from the potion,” Archer finished.

  “But you said--”

  “I said the potion would not cure him, I never said it would kill him. In fact, that potion isn’t even meant for the king. It’s now clear that elixir is meant for Alden. I will explain further in time, but right now two figures are approaching rapidly, one male and the other female.”

  “They’ve come back, Sora and Alden are
here.” Irene tried to scramble to her feet, but Conner stopped her.

  “Nope, just wait, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” he purred.

  Alec burst through the tree line and trailing behind was their mysterious ally. He tried to smile, but it faltered. He was deathly pale, his shoulder bandaged with a red cloth. Irene rushed to meet them as her fingers touched the bright red fabric.

  “Alec...” Irene breathed as her fingers turned a deep crimson.

  “It’s nothing,” he replied. “This is Aliana. I’m sure you remember her.”

  “I tried to get him to stop and rest, but he refused. He was quite determined on returning here as soon as possible,” Aliana smirked. They helped Alec into the cabin, Irene vaguely hearing Archer’s muted voice say something to Epona.

  “I was worried you were dead,” Irene said.

  “Why would you think that? I told you I could handle those buffoons,” he remarked, Irene remembering that he still did not know about Alden. The table nearly collapsed from Alec’s weight as he, not too elegantly, dropped against its worn surface.

  “I sent Epona to collect some Black Lilac. It will help with his wounds,” Archer whispered to Irene.

  They bandaged his shoulder, the proud prince wincing like a babe as Aliana gave the strong linen one last tug to secure it in place.

  “Drink this,” Irene commanded. He accepted the porcelain cup and greedily drank the steamy liquid and Aliana, much to Irene’s discomfort, had not removed her heated gaze from Irene’s form.

  “You are surprisingly impressive,” Aliana finally spoke. “I’ve never seem someone with the ability to tame the Red Raven. I must know the secret of your success with the beast of forest.” Aliana gestured to Archer and Conner calmly lounging nearby.

  “She can talk with them,” Alec spoke.

  “Very impressive, indeed.”

  Irene pretended to busy herself with the dishes, trying to hide her embarrassment. She could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks in a bright blush as she was not accustomed to such sincere flattery.

  A soft breeze hit Irene’s face and she knew Epona had returned, the mass of Black Lilac lying next to her hand proof that her friend was present. After clear instructions from Archer, Irene ground the flower into dust and dropped it into Alec’s tea. The change was almost immediate as the color returned to his pale features and Irene came to sit beside him. It was time to tell him the truth.

  “Tell him to hold out his hand,” Archer instructed to Irene. “I will tell him.”

  Irene did not understand, but did as she was told. The bite was unexpected as everyone jumped at the sight of Archer driving his fangs into Alec’s flesh.

  “That rat just bit me!” Alec screamed as he stood.

  “Well, I thought it would be easier to communicate to each other, rather than relying on Irene to translate,” Archer said, annoyance in his tone. He did not like being a rat. “You now have the ability to not only converse with me, but with all animals.”

  Flabbergasted, Alec merely squeaked out a weak apology before rooting himself back into his seat. His mind had not yet wrapped around the fact that he could converse with the silver fox. Aliana followed suit, although her reaction was much more demure than Alec’s. They encircled Archer, anxiously waiting to finally hear his silky voice.

  “I’m afraid the situation is much worse than we originally believed. That elixir will not cure your father, Prince Alec. I have no doubt that Alden and Sora are actually the cause of the king’s sickness.”

  Alec’s solemn gaze could not mask his fear, “He’s trying to take the throne.”

  “He’s trying to take much more. The Black Lilac laced with fairy magic, the Red Raven’s feather of blood, and the Dragon Turtle’s tear all contain the same ability, the power to alter reality. He’s not just trying to become king. Alden is trying to create a new reality.”

  “If he was planning on changing this reality anyway, why did he make my father sick? What purpose did it serve?”

  “It served its purpose quite well. I can only wisely guess it was meant to distract you and King Launder from what was really happening. Also, no one would find it suspicious that he was consorting with Sora.”

  “Can he really change this reality? Is that possible?” Aliana asked.

  “Fortunately, the spell does have its limitations. He can only bend reality, not bring about a completely different world. Think of it as a painting, he can change the shading, the color, but not the basic construction.”

  “If all this is true, what are we all still doing here?” Alec’s cup crashed to the ground as he flew into a hot-headed rage. His strength had obviously returned.

  “And where would you have us go?” Archer asked. “Do you really think they have returned to the castle? They could be anywhere.”

  Alec turned red, “I just assumed...”

  “How will we combat this?” Aliana’s stern voice suddenly spoke. “Once he has changed this reality, we will know doubt change along with it. Will we even remember all the events that have taken place? Will we even recall each other?”

  “That is beyond my knowledge,” Archer answered.

  Irene sat quietly, the weight of her guilt nearly drowning her. She couldn’t help, but feel responsible for the mayhem ensuing. If only she had known the witch’s true intentions! Archer and Alec’s voices faded away as she retreated into herself. Sora. How she hated that name, the name that had stolen so much from Irene and her dear mother. The rage she had buried so deep for all these years could no longer be hidden. Demanding to be freed, the overpowering emotions pounded against her chest like a war drum.

  “All these years,” Irene choked and the room went silent. “I could have left, I could have been free and my mother, my poor mother…”

  Irene was a blur as she burst from the chair and raced down the hallway where the familiar doorway to Sora’s study appeared.

  She entered. The air still full of the same stale odor she remembered. The aged text plummeted to the ground as Irene ripped them from the bookshelves. The others had arrived, watching helplessly as the young woman angrily tore the books to shreds before throwing their insides into the air. Yellow pages fluttered to the ground, coming to rest at her feet.

  “I spent my life hidden away in this room trying to find a way to break the spell and it was all for nothing!” She continued her rampage, too lost in her own consuming thoughts to feel Conner come and sit beside her.

  “Leave her be,” Aliana barked to Alec when he moved to stop the destruction.

  Finally, Irene’s wrath came to an end and her breathing slowed to a relaxing rhythm. The last book fell from her hands to join its brothers in the carnage covering the ground.

  “Feel better?” Conner asked, but Irene could only muster a weak laugh as an answer. She stopped as flicker of light caught her attention. Hidden within the bookcase’s recesses was a latch of some sort. She had not noticed it before as it lay concealed behind Sora’s many text. A “click” was heard when Irene snaked her arm toward the silver ring and gave it a tug. The door swung open and the thick smell of mold hit her face. Conner, too, was feeling the effects of the putrid stench which set his nose into a fit of sneezes.

  “I think it’s a diary,” Irene said as she pulled it free.

  “I didn’t know Sora kept a diary,” Conner declared as his curiosity overtook him and he perched himself on Irene’s shoulder, his nose and whiskers still wildly twitching.

  “That’s because it’s not Sora’s,” Irene whispered, staring at the golden letters engraved within its cover. “It’s my mother’s.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Irene sat transfixed on a flock of crows restlessly circle the cabin, their black forms huddled together in dark masses as they took to the skies. Watching them in fascination, Irene clutched her mother’s diary closer. Conner came to join her in their familiar spot by the hen coop.

  “They can feel it, too,” he said.

  Eve
r since Archer had vanished an odd feeling had settled in the atmosphere, as if all of nature was preparing itself for what was to come. Alec appeared, giving Conner an awkward nod. He was still not use to his new found ability to communicate with their furry companions.

  “Has Archer returned?” Irene asked and Alec shook his head before answering.

  “Not yet, but I think he’s up to something. He may have a plan, or at least I hope he does.”

  An electrifying spark coursed through their bodies causing the prince and Irene to shiver.

  “Did you feel that?” Aliana asked as she bound toward them, anxiously watching the darkening horizon.

  “That was magic,” Conner hissed, “strong magic. Alden and Sora must be close to finishing the potion.”

  “I pray that fox of yours returns soon,” Aliana whispered.

  “What about your mother’s diary, Irene? Is there anything in there that could be of help?”

  “I haven’t opened it yet.” Irene answered as she tried to avoid his gaze. She was not ready to open the diary and unmask her mother’s most inner thoughts and emotions.

  “Are you really going to wait? That book could contain all the answers to any question you may have ever had.”

  Speechless she dropped her eyes to the book in her arms. He was right. She would have to face her mother’s unavoidable mistakes and, possibly along the way, learn about the one person she dare not even mention-- her father. Irene recalled the first time she had dared to ask about him. Her mother had sobbed for days, a memory Irene had tried to desperately forget.

  She opened the tattered cover to see her mother’s elegant handwriting. Her mother had always been a graceful woman. From everything to dancing to chopping vegetables, her mother always added an element of elegance that could make the world stop and stare in awe.

  My dearest love, Irene, I see you have finally found me. I had no doubt that you would discover my little hideaway. If you are anything like me, which you are, you will often venture into Sora’s study to look for a cure to our most cruel curse. I hope you are well my dear, but be prepared. Something is coming, and I have a dreadful feeling that I may not be able to be with you for much longer. Sora is at work, my daughter. What she is planning I do not know. Be watchful and careful. Never trust her. I have much to tell you and I fear I may not be able to tell you these secrets in person, so I am leaving them behind in the only other way possible. These words are my voice to you. I pray they bring you strength when times are hard and peace in times of pain. I pray that my voice will always bring the realization that not even death could ever destroy my love for you. Never forget that, my love. As long as you remember this, I am always by your side.