“What else am I going to do?” He propped up pillows to give himself a better view.
“Why don’t I give you a homework assignment?” She pulled a plain white floor length tunic out of the armoire, adding it over hers. It would do. “Write down everything you’ve noticed about this realm so far. I feel like we are going to need to create some sort of compendium of the realms we’ve visited. Then, try reading one of the books they’ve provided you, especially if any of them are about the Elven Realm, but in English.”
“All right, but only if you promise to come back tomorrow and stay for even longer.”
“Deal.”
When Mirabelle finally dragged herself out of the prison, she felt rather defeated. Being with Matthew was a burst of optimism, but once back on the streets of Aldris, she felt terribly alone and over her head. Rowan, the guard who had showed her in, led her out as well, confirming that she could come back tomorrow, and to have a lovely evening. Maybe Rowan would become an ally after all.
When she finally trudged her way into Cherry and Pine’s house, they were sitting down to dinner, with a place made up for her. The food looked less than appetizing, but she put on a brave face and joined them. She needed to be as pleasant and polite as possible.
“How is your warlock faring in prison? Is he forlorn?” Cherry asked with genuine concern.
“He is… confused.” Mirabelle chose her words carefully. “Neither of us really understand why he has been imprisoned. I am trying to keep his spirits up, so he doesn’t become disheartened.”
“Have you given any thought to when you will be returning to your realm?” Cherry asked.
“I’m not.” Mirabelle said, firmly. “Not until Matthew is released and can come home with me.”
“That might not be wise…” Cherry began. “The triumvirate will want you to return very soon. They are uncomfortable with outsiders staying long periods of time.” Cherry was clearly uneasy.
“That is an odd statement, considering they are keeping Matthew here indefinitely.” Mirabelle’s eyes darted between the two Elves, waiting for a reaction. “Is there a way I can meet with the triumvirate?”
“I don’t know if that is a good idea,” Pine said. “They are very particular about how they spend their time.”
“Is there a way I can petition to be seen? Or should I just knock on their door and talk to the secretary?” Mirabelle tried to play a little dumb here. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Cherry and Pine, and at the moment, they seemed extremely timid more than anything, which would not help her at all.
“I can put in a request for you tomorrow.” Cherry offered. “I can’t say it will even be answered, but it is a start.” Mirabelle nodded in thanks, and forced herself to take a bite of the nearly black mush in front of her. It tasted a little like she imagined whipped licorice without a trace of sugar would taste like, and slid down her throat like glue. Appetizing.
“I had a wonderful meeting with Chestnut. What an… eccentric Elf.” Mirabelle gauged their reactions.
“His ways may not be conventional to our particular group, but he is among the wisest.” Pine said definitively.
“I found his knowledge on other realms extensive.” She added. “We were able to compare a few notes on the realms I have visited, and very much enjoyed our discourse.”
“I do wish we had the power to realm hop, but sadly, no Elf has ever left the realm. We are cemented here.” Cherry said, wistfully. “It is my greatest dream to visit your world during the Han Dynasty of China. What an age to live in!”
“Cherry, you are the first person I have ever met to say that. So many people immediately say the 1920’s either in America or Europe, but that is a much better answer.”
“Have you had the opportunity to time travel?” Pine interjected.
“No, and, to be honest, I hope I never do. The way time works in our realm… I would be too worried I would never return to my own time.”
“I had the opportunity to look over some texts this afternoon, and put together a list of questions for you,” Pine rummaged through a pile of papers. “Ah yes, what was the cause of the Fall of the Roman Empire? It reads as a nearly impenetrable empire, yet it crumbled so furiously.”
“Well,” Mirabelle stammered. She searched her brain as fast as possible to her World History class. “Oh! The Rhine River froze.” She smiled. Mr. Kane would be proud. “It had been a natural barrier against the barbarian tribes, and once frozen, the enemies flooded the outer lands, slowly breaking down the empire.”
Over the next hour, Cherry and Pine tested every limit of world history knowledge Mirabelle had tucked in her brain. The history of the United States was a much easier topic, as they had no information past 1850, so she could keep it as fuzzy as possible and just glaze over most important events. (A few hours later, she realized she had completely left out the Korean War. Oh, well.) She felt a little more secure in her relationship with them, but noticed that they really only wanted to discuss the history of the Human Realm, and became extremely uncomfortable when she tried to talk about Matthew, or the law of the Elven Realm.
When it was appropriate, Mirabelle excused herself to bed. She had a feeling Cherry and Pine would prove to be unhelpful, and that she needed to come up with a plan on her own. She wondered just how far she could push the triumvirate into believing Anona and Dottie, along with a horde of angry witches, would barrel through the portal before they just imprisoned her as well.
The next morning, Mirabelle wandered down the streets of Aldris, knowing she would eventually find her way back to Birch’s house. She hoped that Acacia would be home alone and she could finagle her way in somehow. Then, she would just have to come up with a way to distract Acacia long enough to snoop around.
She went without the cloak this time, not really caring that some Elves stopped to gawk at her. Her favorite reactions were the Elves that pretended not to stare at her, but side-eyed her so hard their eyes almost fell out.
She found Birch’s small castle relatively quickly. She knocked on the door and waited. No one came. She was surprised that Acacia didn’t come to the door. Maybe no one was home? She tried the handle, and the door silently swung open. Mirabelle was faced with a conundrum. She could walk in, and help herself to whatever documents she could find. But on the other hand, she could also be found without an invitation and murdered on sight. Eh, she decided to live dangerously. At least they didn’t have guns here. She might be able to outrun a sword long enough to lie about why she was there.
She walked in, with the air of confidence possessed by someone with an actual invitation, and closed the door behind her. She took a quick look around, and was satisfied that no one was home. Maybe Acacia got a day off? It seemed unlikely, but why else would she be gone?
Mirabelle found a small office-like room, with a desk covered in papers. She quickly ducked in, and tried to read them as quickly as possible. Most of them were in the Elven alphabet. Ugh! She wished she had brought Chestnut. While she could understand everything spoken to her in this realm, reading was another thing entirely. As she rifled through papers, she thought she heard something fall upstairs. She froze.
“Acacia?” Mirabelle whispered, tiptoeing towards the door. No answer. She peeked around the corner into the hallway. She was met with giggles echoing down the stairs. Giggles? She had been here for a few days and had never seen an Elf giggle. So far they were a relatively stern people. She stalked through the halls towards the stairs, straining her ears to hear more. There were definitely two voices up there, and they were very friendly.
She could leave and escape without being caught (but also without gaining any extra knowledge), or she could go upstairs and see what was going on. Did Acacia have a lover? Were Birch and Acacia an item?!? She imagined the Elves would frown upon inter-class relationships. She had to know.
A definite upside of everything being made of stone was the lack of squeaky stairs. Mirabelle quietly padded up, walking past d
oorways, until she came to one, a crack open, and risked a gaze.
She almost immediately fainted from sheer shock of the scene. Birch and Spruce were a mess of giggly, naked, tangled limbs on the bed, with Willow passed out on a nearby sofa. Mirabelle caught herself from gasping, turned on her heels, and silently ran down the stairs, straight to the door. She continued to power walk down the street until she was at the prison, and immediately knocked and asked to visit Matthew. Rowan answered again, and was happy to oblige, and generous with her offers of food and drink for the two.
“Hey!” Matthew smiled, looking up from his book. He was half-reclined on the bed. He stood to greet her, then noticed Mirabelle’s look of shock and confusion. “You okay, Mirie?”
“I just saw,” she started in a panting whisper, “something I should not have seen.” She caught her breath for a moment. “I may have spied some weird sex thing… which I don’t know if it’s normal or not.” Matthew raised an eyebrow.
“Did you go to an orgy?”
“No,” she scowled. “I was snooping around Birch’s house-”
“Mirie! Alone? That is so dangerous!”
“I know, I know. But I didn’t think anyone was there, and I need some sort of dirt on one of the triumvirate to get you out of here. Anyway, I was filing through a bunch of papers I couldn’t understand when I hear something upstairs. I snuck up and I saw Birch and Spruce screwing in front of a clearly intoxicated Willow!”
“Well,” Matthew paused, “as strange as it is, it doesn’t really sound, illegal. I mean, that’s legal in the United States, as far as I know.”
“But imagine if it was the president, vice president, and secretary of state. Changes things, doesn’t it?”
“It definitely does, but blackmailing the executive branch also seems very dangerous.” Matthew pulled Mirabelle next to him on the bed. “Who can you trust with this information?”
“Chestnut. I just need to find him again. His cottage was kind of hidden, and I don’t know if anyone will take me there without an invitation. Cherry and Pine are both afraid of the triumvirate. I don’t think they’ll be much help.” Mirabelle explained. Matthew thought for a minute.
“Ask Rowan to take you. She’s more than accommodating, and she might know where he is. She’s kind of obsessed with magic. She’s drilled me several times about what my powers are.” Matthew laughed. “Too bad I don’t have any to speak of yet, except seeing Fae in the Human Realm and accidentally opening portals with my virginity.” Mirabelle cracked up.
“Aw, my sweet, innocent boy. Give me a kiss before I leave and delve deeper into this mystery.”
Chapter 8
Rowan was, of course, accommodating. She didn’t know exactly where Chestnut’s house was, other than it was in the woods, but her brother, Hawthorn, did, and was happy to escort the Traveler Witch. Hawthorn brought a horse for Mirabelle to ride alongside, and she decided as soon as she got home, she needed to learn how to ride a horse. After confessing that she had no idea how to even mount a horse, Hawthorn left the extra filly with Rowan, pulled Mirabelle up behind him, and set off into the woods.
If Mirabelle hadn’t been in a relationship with Matthew, who she really did like a lot, she could see herself having a string of affairs with these otherworldly creatures. So far, she had a crazy excommunicated Fae prince interested in marrying her (and, all said and done, he was rather attractive, though perhaps less so with the drugging, kidnapping, and attempted forced marriage), and now she was riding through the woods on a horse with a tall, dark Elf, her body smashed against his out of fear of falling. Traveling as a witch was really more suited to single witches. Though, she knew that other than the Fae courts of the Elven realm, she would be hard-pressed to find attractive creatures. (She had no interest in carrying on an affair with a Dragon or Troll or Merman. Humanoids only, please).
Hawthorn, while handsome was silent, delivered her to Chestnut’s door, then immediately left before she could ask for a ride home, or at least directions to get back to Aldris. Hopefully Chestnut was at home, and had some form of transportation she could use.
Chestnut was not at home, though his door was thankfully open. Mirabelle settled herself on one of his chairs, prepared to wait for him to arrive. She wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline of first, breaking and entering and then walking in on a sex act, finally wearing off, but she was suddenly exhausted. She propped her feet up on another chair, and quickly drifted to sleep.
Mirabelle was sitting on the front porch of Anona’s house, sipping on a glass of ice cold lemonade. It was summer, probably August by the way the hot sun beat down on the browning grass. She inhaled the humid air and felt her body completely relax.
“Hey.” Anona said, coming to sit beside her.
“Hey.”
“I didn’t think this would work.” Anona continued, her eyes intent on Mirabelle.
“You didn’t think what would work?”
“Mirie. You are in the Elven Realm right now, most likely asleep because I can’t imagine you taking the time to meditate right now. Dottie gave me a spell to get into your subconscious so I could talk to you. We probably have about five minutes tops before you move into a different dream state, or someone wakes you up.”
“Whoa.” Mirabelle slowly felt her brain catch up to where Anona was. She was in the Elven Realm, and this was a dream. “Oh Anona, I wish you were here with me. I am in way over my head.”
“Obviously. You’ve been gone for three days. Lucy has called me four times asking if you have heard from Matthew. You guys have to get back as soon as possible. It’s getting really hard to lie.”
“Okay, okay,” Mirabelle’s head was spinning. “Just tell her I heard from him and that he lost his phone somewhere in his friend’s dorm. I should be able to pull this off in two days.” Mirabelle was trying to convince herself as well as her sister.
“What is taking so long?”
“Anona, the Elves are freaking crazy. They put Matthew in prison. I’m trying my best to get him out, but it’s hard. My list of allies is really short. I wish you or Dottie were a Traveler and could come help me.” Anona’s image started to get fuzzy.
“Mirie! Are you still there? Try to stay!” Anona yelled, but Mirabelle felt her mind being moved off the porch.
“I’ll be home soon!” She called, and in the next moment, she was sitting in her sophomore year math class, realizing she hadn’t studied for the test she was about to take.
“Mirabelle?” She stirred awake. Chestnut was leaning over her, his eyes wide with confusion. “What are you doing here? In my house? Asleep?”
“Sorry.” She said, bringing her feet to the floor. “I nodded off.” The memories of the morning, and her weird dream experience flooded back. “I need to talk to you, or rather, I need your advice.”
“Is this an illegal cup of tea conversation?”
“Most definitely.”
Chestnut swirled the last few sips of tea around his cup, contemplating what Mirabelle had just told him.
“It is not allowed.”
“Group sex?” Mirabelle asked. She had a lot to learn about Elven culture.
“No. That’s… whatever it is. Members of the triumvirate are not allowed to have personal relationships. It’s one way we make certain that the parties are not acting in their own interests instead of the interests of the entire Elven population.” That piqued Mirabelle’s interest.
“So how can I use it?” She pressed. Chestnut hesitated.
“Very carefully. Birch and Spruce are not to be trifled with. They are powerful Elves, with some sort of agenda. Willow might be the safest to seek out in this case. She has the least to lose, and therefore will most likely react the least violently.”
“Violently?!” Mirabelle repeated. “The reports on this realm are definitely in need of some updating in my realm. I was told that the Elves were friends of witches, that I would be treated kindly when I got here and given help!” She was exasperated.
“Depending on the triumvirate in power, you would be reaching a very different realm.” Chestnut exhaled slowly. “This is becoming much more dangerous than I originally thought it would be.” A look of doubt crossed his face. Mirabelle ignored it.
“So, is this enough? Like, do I need more information or will this suffice to blackmail them into letting Matthew and I go home?” She pressed.
“Um, I don’t know.” Chestnut fidgeted. “It might be, I really couldn’t say.” He stood up suddenly, and glanced out his wavy-paned window.
“Sorry, are you expecting someone?” Mirabelle asked.
“No, it’s just…” he turned back to Mirabelle. “I’m so sorry. I can’t help you with this.”
“What?” Her chest deflated. Chestnut was the only Elf she had met that seemed like an ally, and now he was abandoning her too?
“I could be executed. You understand, don’t you?”
“You’re five hundred years old! And you are worried that, as you said, a bunch of children will execute you?”
“I didn’t make it to five hundred making rash decisions. And the more you tell me of them… they are far more dangerous than I originally thought. I’ve been watching them, Birch in particular, for years. She fell into power so easily. And she nearly handpicked her partners. Usually the members of a triumvirate hate each other; it’s good to have a strong discourse over all decisions. We’d never want one school of thought to hold all the power.” He shuffled over to his overflowing table and shimmied out a journal. “This is everything I’ve found on them, that could be considered corrupt. Here, take it. I’ve even written it in your language, so that if it was ever found I would be safe.”
“But, I- I need you to help me. I don’t know what to do with this, I’m not a lawyer. I don’t even have the vaguest understanding of the laws here.”
The Traveler Witch (Sister Witches Book 2) Page 6