A Tale of Witchcraft...

by Chris Colfer

“The men who attacked us at my brother’s wedding—that’s what they call themselves,” she said.

  “Where do you think he’s going? Should I call the guards?”

  Brystal went quiet as she thought about what to do. She knew the encounter presented them with a wonderful opportunity—but an opportunity to do what? How could she use the moment to her advantage?

  “Don’t call the guards,” Brystal decided. “Even if we captured him, he couldn’t give us the information we want. The Brotherhood is so secretive even they don’t know who their fellow clansmen are.”

  “Then what should we do? We can’t just let him get away!”

  Suddenly, Brystal was struck with a dangerous idea.

  “We should follow him,” she said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE ENROLLMENT CEREMONY

  After a long night of cursing, Lucy and Pip returned to Ravencrest in the early morning and went straight to bed. It didn’t matter how uncomfortable her nest was, Lucy was so sleep-deprived she passed out the moment her body became horizontal. That evening, the taxidermy clock didn’t go off at six o’clock per usual, and Lucy slept into the night. When her eyes eventually fluttered open, she saw Stitches, Beebee, and Sprout standing at the foot of her nest, waiting for her to rise. The witches watched her with huge smiles and Lucy instantly felt uneasy.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Wakey, wakey, sleepy daisies,” Sprout said.

  Pip yawned and stretched in her nest. “What time is it?” she grumbled.

  “Almost m-m-midnight,” Beebee said. “Mistress Mara told us to let you two s-s-sleep in.”

  “Why?” Lucy asked.

  “Because you’re going to need all your strength tonight,” Stitches said. “Now get up and get dressed. It’s time for your Enrollment Ceremony!”

  Lucy and Pip climbed out of their nests and changed into their cloaks and tights. They followed the witches through the manor, and when they reached the ground floor, the invisible butler was waiting by the door with five broomsticks.

  “What are those for?” Lucy asked.

  “We’re meeting Mistress Mara in the forest,” Stitches said. “She left early to set up the ceremony.”

  “And we’re going to sweep our way there?” Lucy asked.

  “No, s-s-silly, we’re going to f-f-fly there,” Beebee said.

  “Witches fly on broomsticks made from the wood of floating trees,” Sprout informed them. “The trees are extremely hard to find because they float away when their branches outgrow their roots.”

  “But why do witches make brooms of all things?” Pip asked.

  Stitches shrugged. “They’re multifunctional,” she said. “And mops would just be obnoxious.”

  The girls each took a broomstick from the butler and then headed into the graveyard. As soon as they stepped outside, the girls were awestruck by the massive blood moon shining in the night sky. It was four times the size of a regular full moon and illuminated the land with a scarlet glow. Stitches, Beebee, and Sprout mounted their broomsticks, and one by one, the witches leaped into the air. The broomsticks carried them high above the manor, and they hovered in the sky while they waited for Pip and Lucy to join them.

  “Come on!” Stitches called down to them.

  “Don’t be scared,” Sprout said. “It’s like riding a bike!”

  “B-b-but hundreds of f-f-feet in the air,” Beebee said.

  Lucy and Pip straddled their broomsticks and nervously gripped the handles. They jumped as high as they could and the broomsticks pulled them into the sky toward the others. Once their feet left the ground, the magic broomsticks made their bodies feel as light as feathers, and they bobbed in the air above the manor’s tallest tower.

  “What a rush!” Pip exclaimed. “We can see the whole forest from here!”

  “I feel like I just drank a barrel of Fabubblous Fizz!” Lucy said.

  “Now hold on tight and try to keep up!” Stitches said. “We might hit turbulence.”

  The witches leaned forward on their broomsticks and zipped across the sky. Lucy and Pip copied the movement and zoomed after them. They soared over the Northwestern Woods at the speed of rockets, and the wind rushed past Lucy’s face so quickly she could barely see or breathe. As they flew, the witches howled and cackled at the moon, their voices echoing through the forest below them.

  Eventually, they saw a trail of steam drifting up from the woods ahead, and the witches descended toward the ground.

  “How do you land this thing?” Lucy asked.

  “Think heavy thoughts!” Sprout said.

  Lucy thought of boulders, dumbbells, anchors, and how she packed her suitcase when she traveled, and sure enough, her broomstick glided toward the earth below. Once all the girls landed, they followed the steam through the woods and entered a small clearing. They found Mistress Mara in the clearing, hovering over a massive, steaming cauldron. The witch stirred a bright purple potion that was bubbling with energy.

  A collection of drums, horns, and chimes drifted through the air around the clearing, as if the instruments were caught in a slow-moving cyclone. As soon as the girls arrived, the drums began to beat on their own, playing at the pace of a soft heartbeat.

  “Welcome, ladies,” Mistress Mara greeted them. “For thousands of years, witches and warlocks have embraced new brothers and sisters into their covens by performing a sacred induction ceremony. We will honor that age-old tradition tonight as we officially welcome you to the Ravencrest School of Witchcraft. The ritual once required animal sacrifices, contracts signed in blood, and the tears of enemies—but luckily, we’ve been able to simplify it over the years. Tonight, all we need is a little potion, a little music, and a little moonlight.”

  The witches cheered and the floating chimes shimmered. Mistress Mara gazed into the sky and saw the blood moon was directly above the clearing.

  “The time has come,” the witch announced. “Lucy and Pip, to finalize your enrollment, each of you will take the Oath of Witchcraft and then solidify the oath by drinking from the potion. I must warn you, once you take the oath, there is no going back. You will be fully committed to a life of witchcraft and must obey the oath until your last breath.”

  Lucy and Pip went stiff after learning about the oath. Trying to stop Mistress Mara and the Horned One had already cost Lucy her hair and eyebrows—what was she going to lose next?

  “Pip, we’ll begin with you,” Mistress Mara said.

  The floating drums started beating faster and louder, which only increased the girls’ anxiety. Mistress Mara filled a goblet with the purple potion and raised it into the air to soak in the beams of moonlight.

  “Pip, do you vow to always live authentically, do you promise to never compromise your potential, and do you swear to never suppress your true feelings, no matter what approval, popularity, or affection you may receive in return? That is the sacred Oath of Witchcraft, and to become a witch, you must pledge it here and now.”

  “In other words, just be yourself!” Stitches whispered.

  Lucy and Pip were relieved the oath wasn’t as menacing as they had feared.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Pip said. “Yes, Mistress Mara, I pledge my allegiance to the Oath of Witchcraft.”

  The witch handed Pip the goblet and she drank the potion. According to her foul expression, the potion had a horrible taste, but Pip managed to down the whole thing.

  “Nicely done,” Mistress Mara said. “Lucy, please step forward.”

  The witch refilled the goblet and raised the potion toward the moon.

  “Lucy, do you vow to always live authentically, do you promise to never compromise your potential, and do you swear to never suppress your true feelings, no matter what approval, popularity, or affection you may receive in return?”

  “I mean, why stop now?” Lucy laughed. “Yes, Mistress Mara, I also pledge my allegiance to the Oath of Witchcraft.”

  The witch handed Lucy the goblet wit
h an extra twinkle in her eye. Lucy drank the whole potion and nearly gagged from the bitter taste. Once the potion was finished, all the floating instruments erupted in a festive melody.

  “The ceremony is complete!” Mistress Mara announced. “Congratulations, Lucy and Pip, you are hereby enrolled in the Ravencrest School of Witchcraft! To celebrate, the girls and I shall lead you in a traditional midnight dance! Ladies, remove your necklaces and reveal your true selves to the moon!”

  At her command, Stitches, Beebee, and Sprout pulled their golden necklaces over their heads. As they removed the jewelry, the witches transformed into creatures that Lucy and Pip had never seen before. Stitches’s skin turned into patches of burlap that were stitched together, her eyes became red and blue buttons, and her orange hair changed into orange yarn. Two antennae grew out of Beebee’s forehead, a pair of wings popped out of her back, and a stinger stuck out of her backside. Sprout’s bushy green hair became an actual bush, her fingers and nose grew into long vines, and her skin filled with chlorophyll and turned green.

  Mistress Mara removed her golden necklace next. The witch’s pale face became paler and paler, her arms and legs shrunk thinner and thinner, and her torso became hollow. After a lifetime of witchcraft, Mistress Mara’s authentic appearance was a skeletal figure!

  Lucy and Pip were shocked and terrified as they watched their roommates and teacher morph into the giant doll, the large insect, the overgrown plant, and the skeleton before them. Apparently, the witches had been affected by witchcraft after all—their golden necklaces had just been disguising it!

  The witches danced around the cauldron as the floating instruments played on. As the potion coursed through Lucy’s body, she started to feel funny. She became dizzy and unstable, as if the ground were moving under her feet. Her vision went blurry and distorted, and the witches looked like monsters as they twirled, hopped, and skipped around her. She glanced to her side and could tell Pip was feeling the same way.

  Both of the girls suddenly collapsed to the ground.… They tried to get up, but they were too weak to stand on their feet.… Lucy and Pip reached for help, but the witches kept dancing, as if nothing were wrong.… Mistress Mara leaned over them, lowering her bony face close to theirs.… The witch waved her skeletal hands over their bodies and muttered an incantation, but Lucy couldn’t make out what she was saying.…

  All she could hear were the blaring instruments swirling through the air.… All she could see was the blood moon shining above them.… All she could feel was the potion rushing through her veins.…

  And then everything faded to black.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE MEETING

  Brystal and Seven followed the clansman through the empty streets of Chariot Hills. They darted from streetlamp to streetlamp and statue to statue as they went. Occasionally, the clansman would stop and glance over his shoulder, but he never noticed the teenagers trailing behind him. The pursuit continued into the countryside, and then, with only a few trees and fences to hide behind, Brystal and Seven had to keep their distance so they weren’t seen.

  Once the clansman was a few miles outside the city, he lit a torch and journeyed off the cobblestone roads. Brystal and Seven crossed over hills, muddy fields, and shallow streams as they stalked him. The uncharted land was dark and difficult to trek, but thankfully, the blood moon illuminated the earth enough for Brystal and Seven to see where they were going.

  A few hours later the smell of salt filled the air, and Brystal and Seven found themselves approaching the South Sea. The clansman headed for an enormous stone fortress on the beach at the base of a mountain, and just the sight of it put Brystal’s stomach in knots. It was ancient and built out of crumbling stone. Five towers stretched into the sky like the fingers of a decaying hand, and sharp rocks hung over the drawbridge, making the entrance seem like the mouth of an enormous creature.

  The beach was swarming with other clansmen gradually trickling in from different directions. Brystal pulled Seven behind a tall sand dune to stay hidden.

  “That fortress must be the Righteous Brotherhood’s headquarters!” Brystal whispered.

  “We need to get inside and find out what they’re up to,” Seven whispered back. “Can you change our clothes into robes like theirs?”

  “Yes, but it’s too dangerous for us both to go,” she said. “I’ll sneak inside and see what I can learn. You stay here, and if anything happens to me, hurry back to the castle and tell your grandfather.”

  “Excuse me? I’m pretty sure I saved you from these guys last time,” he said. “Dangerous or not, I won’t let you go in there alone. The world can spare a prince, but it only has one of you.”

  Even in the current situation, Seven’s remark made Brystal blush.

  “All right, we’ll go together,” she said. “But changing our clothes won’t be enough. There are exactly three hundred and thirty-three members of the Brotherhood. I’m sure they’ll notice if two extra clansmen show up.”

  “So we’ve got to take out two clansmen before we go inside?” he asked.

  “Right.”

  Brystal waved her wand and transformed their clothes into the Brotherhood’s silver robes. Although she knew it was Seven under the robe and mask beside her, just being near someone in that uniform was unsettling. They peeked over the sand dune and waited for an unsuspecting clansman to walk by. When one finally crossed the beach in front of them, Brystal pointed her wand at him, and the clansman was suddenly knocked unconscious. He fell face-first onto the sand, and Brystal and Seven dragged him behind the dune. Once they had their first victim, they peered over the dune and waited for the second.

  “This is kind of fun,” Seven whispered. “It’s almost like we’re hunting them.”

  Brystal grinned under her mask. “It’s nice to be the hunter for a change,” she said.

  Soon another clansman had the misfortune of crossing the beach nearby. Brystal put him to sleep and they heaved him beside the other.

  “They’ll be out for a couple of hours,” Brystal said.

  “Great, now let’s go to the fortress,” Seven said.

  He headed toward the structure but Brystal lingered at the sand dune. She couldn’t stop staring at the unconscious clansmen. Dragging them had pushed up their masks and exposed the bottoms of their chins. It was the ultimate tease and Brystal couldn’t fight the desire to see the rest of their faces.

  “Are you coming?” Seven asked.

  “One second,” she said. “I want to know who they are.”

  Brystal pulled off the clansmen’s masks and gasped when their identities were revealed.

  “What is it?” Seven asked. “Do you know them?”

  “No,” Brystal said. “I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

  “Then why are you so shaken?”

  “Because not knowing them makes it worse,” she said. “I’ve never said or done anything to these men, and yet they’ve devoted their whole lives to harming people like me. They have no reason to hate us, but they choose to hate us anyway. Of all the things in life to feel, why would anyone choose hatred?”

  “I have no idea,” Seven said. “But most people choose love. And that’s why we’re here—to make sure hate doesn’t win.”

  Brystal nodded and put the masks back on the clansmen’s faces.

  “You’re right,” she said. “Let’s go to the fortress and find a way to stop these creeps. If we get separated, we’ll meet back here.”

  Determinedly, Brystal and Seven headed to the fortress and joined a line of clansmen at the entrance. One by one, each clansman recited a password before being allowed to enter. When it was Brystal’s turn, she gripped her wand under the sleeve of her robe and discreetly pointed it at the clansman guarding the entrance.

  “You don’t need a password from me or the man behind me,” she said.

  The enchantment made the guard’s eyes grow wide and his pupils dilated.

  “I don’t need a password from
you or the man behind you,” he said.

  “Good,” she said. “Now tell me I look pretty and wish me a good night.”

  “You look pretty and I wish you a good night,” he said.

  The guard let Brystal and Seven through the entrance and they met up on the other side of the drawbridge.

  “Great work,” he whispered. “Did he genuinely think I looked pretty or was that your doing?”

  “I thought it’d be a nice touch,” she whispered back.

  Brystal and Seven followed the clansmen through the structure and entered a vast courtyard in the center of the fortress. The majority of the Righteous Brotherhood had already arrived, and as they filed in with the others, Brystal lost track of which silver uniform belonged to Seven.

  At around five o’clock in the morning, a flag bearing the image of a white wolf was hoisted from the tallest tower. A clansman with a crown of sharp metal spikes appeared and climbed to the top of a platform. Brystal instantly recognized him as the archer from her brother’s wedding. The Brotherhood bowed to the man in the crown, and Brystal copied the movement—apparently, he was a superior.

  “Welcome, my brothers,” the archer said. “Time is only a luxury for the young, so I’ll get straight to the point. Ever since we attacked the Evergreen wedding, there have been concerns growing among us. Many of you believe the Brotherhood is not doing enough, some say it is foolish to delay our next attack, and a few have lost faith in our Righteous King. While I’ve assured you his plan is still on track for success, my words have not been enough to convince you. So we have called this meeting tonight to finally put your qualms to rest.”

  “With all due respect, High Commander, the Evergreen attack was a failure!” a clansman shouted.

  “We could have killed the Fairy Godmother! Why did we retreat?” said another.

  “Now the fairies know the Brotherhood is back!”

  “We need to strike again before they strike us!”

  “Why does the Righteous King make us wait like dogs?”