Tulip looked at Nanny suspiciously. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Nanny shook her head. “No, my dear, it’s very important. I know this subject interests you, and I happen to be in great need of the information.”
Circe could see confusion on Tulip’s face. “I’ll go with you to the library and explain. She’s no longer a child, Nanny! She deserves to know what’s happening,” Circe said as Nanny shot her a concerned look.
As Circe and Tulip headed out of the room, Circe turned. “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry; I’m not leaving you alone for long.”
Nanny’s head was spinning and her heart raced. Reliving one’s many lifetimes—for truly, that was what Nanny had lived—was like a gift that brought only heartache. It was easy to look back on past mistakes and wish better choices had been made. But to remember all past transgressions at once, to have them tumble down in great succession, was like nothing Nanny had ever experienced. Failing her adopted daughter was the gravest mistake of her lifetimes. And now Tulip was caught up in the mess, with her mother and father stuck in the kingdom, enchanted by a sleeping curse. Everything was in ruins. Nanny seemed to be surrounded by nothing but grief and impending disaster. She didn’t know where to begin.
But she did. She had already begun.
Tulip was researching the local creatures, old and new. Nanny needed to know if there were any creatures in Morningstar that would pose a threat to Maleficent. And she would have Circe look for a spell that would wake her sisters. The witches’ house was still resting on the cliffs by the sea. Surely there was some spell hidden away in their many volumes that could help them.
Circe came back into the room. “I have explained everything to Tulip. She understands and isn’t afraid. She’s changed so much since I first met her; she’s changed a great deal since yesterday. It’s wonderful to see her becoming such a remarkable young woman. I’m sure you’re proud of her.”
Nanny smiled. “I have always been proud of her. I’ve always seen her as the woman she would become. I never doubted Tulip would someday become the extraordinary young woman I knew she was.”
“Did you see who Maleficent would become?” Circe asked.
Nanny nodded. “I did. But I tried to change her future. I tried to steer her in another direction. And in my attempt to save her, I gave her all the tools she needed to become the mistress of all evil.”
That was Nanny’s greatest failure, although Maleficent likely saw it as Nanny’s greatest gift to her. It felt like a knife in her heart to say those words aloud to Circe.
Mistress of all evil.
Nanny knew Circe had been listening to her thoughts as she had recalled her past with Maleficent. She’d made no effort to keep her thoughts secret. Allowing Circe to listen in was far easier and less painful than repeating her mistakes aloud. Nanny knew Circe didn’t judge her. Circe was like Nanny: she could see time in ways others could not. She knew that Nanny had never tried to hurt Maleficent, that Nanny had done all she could to save her little green fairy. Circe was able to rewind and play the recordings of time. Nanny felt Circe likely knew more than she had shared. She probably knew everything. And one day, Nanny thought, Circe might be able to experience all time as one time without going mad. Nanny knew that for now, Circe could visit places in time individually, especially when they were emotionally charged. But it came at a cost: it was exhausting. And Circe needed all her strength to help her sisters. Besides, it was too soon to point Circe on the journey her life would take after she’d settled the matter of her sisters. It was too soon for Nanny to tell Circe of her great destiny, so Nanny was careful to keep these thoughts from Circe until the time was right.
“I will not let you meet Maleficent alone. I just have to do a quick protection spell on the solarium, and I will be right back at your side,” Circe said. She gave Nanny a weary look before she kissed her soft, powdery cheek. Circe could feel her heart being pulled in two different directions, between Nanny and her sisters. She knew Nanny could sense it, too. Her sisters’ home still sat on the cliffs above Morningstar, and she was certain the answer to waking her sisters lay inside. But her sisters’ spell books would have to wait. Her childhood home would still be there when she was ready. Circe couldn’t bring herself to leave the castle quite yet. Not while Maleficent’s threatening forest of tangling vines drew nearer.
The odd sisters lay on the floor of the solarium under its massive glass dome. Nanny and Circe had decided to leave them where they had collapsed for fear of harming them, though Circe wondered how they could be harmed any more than they already had been; she couldn’t detect any life force in them. To her, they looked like broken, lifeless dolls. Their eyes were still open wide, slightly bulging from their profoundly darkened sockets. She was saddened to see their white cheeks deeply stained with black streaks from long hours of crying before their collapse. Their red lipstick was smudged and settled into the lines around their mouths. It made Circe upset to see her sisters in such a state. Even though she could no longer feel their presence, she knew in her heart that somehow they were still in the world.
Just not in this world.
Muttering a quick incantation, Circe fixed the odd sisters’ makeup, curled their onyx ringlets, straightened the feathers in their hair, and righted their beautiful voluminous dresses, made of black silk with a cascade of silver stars, resembling the night sky. If Circe had to delay finding the spell to wake them, the least she could do was give them their dignity. They would have looked peaceful if she just could have closed their eyes. But Circe thought perhaps it was better that they were open. She didn’t want to forget her sisters required her help. Circe only wished she could wake them as easily as she had made them look presentable again.
I hope they’re okay, wherever they are. Do you think they’ll ever wake up? It was Pflanze. The feline had been watching Circe silently as she’d helped her sisters. Seeing her witches motionless on the floor sent a chill through Pflanze’s heart. She was afraid she would never speak to them again. Never feel the touch of Ruby’s hand or the soft brushing of Lucinda’s lips on the top of her head, or feel Martha tugging on her ears.
“Stop fretting, Pflanze. We will find a spell to wake them. I am sure of it.” Turning from her sisters, Circe looked at Pflanze. She took in the cat’s beauty, dazzled by Pflanze’s golden eyes, flecked with green and rimmed with black. They were striking against the vivid patches of orange, black, and white on the cat’s face. “You really are a beautiful creature, Pflanze. Keep watch over them. I’ll be back.”
Are you going to enchant the door? I feel uneasy with my witches so defenseless, especially if Maleficent is on her way.
“Of course. Don’t worry,” Circe said. She quietly closed the door behind her so as not to disturb her sleeping sisters and their loyal guardian. With a wave of her hand, Circe created a powerful barricade around the room. Only those with a pure heart and noble intentions would be able to open the door. No one who intended to harm the sisters would be able to enter the solarium. And no magic would be strong enough to break the spell—not a spell woven in love for the protection and safety of her beloved sisters.
Owls, crows, pigeons, and dragonflies were arriving at Morningstar Castle in siege numbers. Messages from every kingdom and every corner of the magical realms were still flooding in. Many were inquiring about the great magnitude of power that had erupted from Ursula’s death and whether it had been taken care of. Some of the messages were simply offers of condolences for Ursula’s passing. Nanny had time for none of those. She would reply when she had dealt with Maleficent. But one message would not wait. It was from her sister, informing her that a group of fairies was on its way to help her handle “the odd sisters situation.” That was the last thing Nanny needed: a bunch of fairies descending upon Morningstar while Maleficent was there!
Why in Hades does the world choose to fall apart all at once? Leave it to my sister and her silly wish-granting fairies to meddle in things that
do not concern them!
Nanny wondered if it was all a ruse to confront Maleficent. She found it difficult to believe the Fairy Godmother cared about the odd sisters. No, she was just being paranoid. How would the fairies even know that Maleficent was on her way to Morningstar? The fairies were coming to discuss the odd sisters. Miss High and Mighty Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo was coming to cast judgment on the odd sisters. Simple. Straightforward. Nothing to worry about.
Nanny’s gut instincts nagged at her. No. This convergence will be disastrous. She was sure of it.
Nanny felt overwhelmed, not only by everything that was happening, but also by the rapid-fire recollections that continued to flash through her mind. It was strange. Her memories were flooding back, but Nanny couldn’t remember how she’d lost them in the first place.
“You probably put a spell on yourself to forget. Seems like something you would do,” Circe said from the doorway, interrupting Nanny’s thoughts. Circe was probably right. It was highly likely that Nanny had caused herself to lose her own memories as a way to deal with the pain of her failure to protect Maleficent. It was horrible enough to remember all her own regrets, but to remember Maleficent’s memories in such vivid detail was breaking her heart. It was no wonder she had chosen to forget.
Nanny switched the subject, trying to avoid the memories just for a moment. “How are your sisters? Any change?”
Circe shook her head. “No.”
Nanny looked sad, lost in her thoughts. She didn’t say so, but Circe could tell she was also dreadfully concerned about the odd sisters, and she was worried about Maleficent.
“I don’t want you to worry,” Circe said finally. “I know we will find something to wake my sisters. And as for Maleficent, you have Pflanze. You have Tulip. And of course, you have me. We’re here. There’s nothing Maleficent can do to you with us beside you.”
“I’m more worried about my sister and her goody-goody friends, honestly,” Nanny said, handing Circe the Fairy Godmother’s message. “They’re also on their way.”
Circe narrowed her eyes. “That is a problem. Is there no way to turn them away? To tell them that they’re not wanted?”
Nanny shook her head. “My sister never imagines a situation in which she isn’t welcome. Telling her she wasn’t wanted wouldn’t even register. Turning her away isn’t an option. She’ll simply look at me blankly and pretend not to understand what I’m saying.”
Circe sighed. “Why is she coming? You don’t think she’s the one who put my sisters to sleep, do you?”
“I honestly don’t know. I assumed they were sleeping because it took so much of their strength to fight the spell they created to help Ursula,” Nanny explained. “But they still won’t wake. Nothing I’ve tried has helped. Nothing you’ve done has worked. And now I’m wondering if the fairies have somehow intervened.”
Circe’s eyes flashed with anger. “Intervened how? If they’ve hurt them…”
“No, their magic doesn’t allow them to hurt anyone, not even their enemies,” Nanny said. “And your sisters have never been their enemies, not really. Yes, they’ve sided with Maleficent in the past. The odd sisters have helped her before, but they never hounded the fairies. It seems my sister’s been stepping out of her providence lately. She’s taking her role of Fairy Godmother too far. Princess Aurora is not her charge, but if she has taken it upon herself to cast an endless sleep on your sisters, I’d wager it’s for the protection of her beloved princesses.”
Circe frowned. “I thought Cinderella was her only princess.”
“She is, and is living happily. But I suspect my sister may be growing weary with not much to do. So she’s putting her round little nose in where it doesn’t belong.” Nanny sighed. “Enough about my sister, I just hope she doesn’t bring those insufferable little sycophants, the three good fairies, with her.”
“You have no love for fairies, do you, Nanny?” Circe asked with a smile. “I don’t blame you. If it’s any consolation, I don’t see you as a fairy. In my heart, you are a witch and always have been.”
“Thank you, dear. Your sisters once said something quite similar to both me and Maleficent. Something about being born a fairy but having a witch’s heart. I suppose they were right.”
Circe considered that. “Well, if you think about it, a fairy can just as easily be a witch, as a human might, if she’s capable of the right sort of magic. But with you, there’s a little more to it, I think. It’s what I see in your heart. You don’t share fairy sensibilities.”
“Too right! And I thank you, my dear, but—”
Nanny was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door of the castle that made them both jump. Nanny’s heart sank. She wasn’t ready to face Maleficent just yet.
Circe took Nanny’s hand and squeezed it, reminding Nanny she was there to protect her. How Nanny wished she had always had Circe in her life. What would it have been like always to have had such a young powerful witch willing to do good by her side? A witch who had an open heart and none of the bigotry that ran so deep in the fairy community? Nanny had been preparing herself for Maleficent’s rage, but she wasn’t quite ready to meet it. She wasn’t ready for the condemnation. Maybe when Maleficent saw Circe, she would see into her heart and see Nanny through Circe’s eyes. And maybe she would hold less judgment in her own heart for Nanny by virtue of the love Circe held for her—an old woman who only now had remembered who she really was.
Hudson came into the room with a grave look on his face. He was pale and seemed very uncomfortable.
“What is it, Hudson? What’s the matter? Who is here?” Nanny asked.
“It’s Queen Snow White, ma’am. She’s sent a message.”
For the love of all things good, what could Snow possibly want with us? Nanny wondered.
Hudson shifted his weight back and forth awkwardly. “And the page, ma’am, he says the message is from Queen Snow White and her mother.”
It wasn’t like Hudson to ask questions, especially about royalty, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Ma’am, has Queen Snow White lost her senses? Everyone knows the legend of the old queen’s demise. Please excuse my impertinence, but…”
“My dear Hudson, please don’t concern yourself with this. I assure you, Queen Snow White hasn’t lost her senses,” Nanny said firmly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Hudson said nervously. He didn’t look at all comfortable with the knowledge that the infamous queen Grimhilde somehow still inhabited this world.
“The old queen’s disposition has changed since her death, Hudson. Please don’t worry,” Nanny said. Hudson gave Nanny a look she had grown accustomed to—a look of pure awe, because she had read his thoughts.
“I’ll take that message now, Hudson, if you don’t mind,” Nanny said with a coy smile.
Hudson fumbled for the message and placed it in Nanny’s outstretched hand. “Of course. I-I’m sorry!” he stammered.
“Please, Hudson, don’t worry. Why don’t you go downstairs for a nice cup of tea? I think it will do you some good.”
“Poor Hudson,” Circe said with a laugh as the witches watched him walk away. “What does the letter say?”
“Let me see,” Nanny said. Circe looked on, analyzing the expression on Nanny’s face rather than reading her thoughts. Clearly the queens weren’t sending good news.
“It seems your sisters left a book at the old queen’s castle during one of their visits when Snow was still a small girl,” Nanny explained. “A book of fairy tales. Apparently, the old queen used to read this book to Snow when she was little, and there was a story about a Dragon Witch who puts a young woman to sleep for her own protection. They’re wondering now, with everything going on with Aurora and Maleficent, if this book foretold their story.”
Circe didn’t know what to make of that, but Nanny continued before she could question it. “The part that is most concerning to them is that this book seems to be predicting everyone’s stories. Not just Aurora’s, but Snow’s, Ariel’s, Tulip’s,
Cinderella’s, even yours! The old queen and Snow White are worried the book is spellbound.”
Circe didn’t even want to think about what it would mean if her sisters had spellbound the book. “Do you think it is?”
“Spellbound? No, I think I know this book. I think it is simply a recording of time. It’s not prophecy or spell-work. I don’t think even your sisters would do such a thing.”
Circe wasn’t as sure. “If my sisters did spellbind that book, you know Queen Grimhilde will want revenge. Everyone will.”
Nanny shuddered at the notion. If the odd sisters had spellbound the book, not even Circe would be able to protect them from the repercussions of their grievous misdeeds.
“We need to see this book. Circe, can you write to Snow White and ask her to send it? The only way to know if the book is spellbound is for you to look at it. If your sisters have done this—”
Circe cut her off. “It would be devastating.”
Nanny felt a terrible chill as she thought about the destruction the odd sisters had caused over the years. She felt a tugging in her heart that she hadn’t felt in longer than she’d like to recollect. She wondered if they should even bring the odd sisters back. She had promised to help Circe wake them simply because that was what Circe wished, and Nanny wanted nothing more than to make Circe happy. But would that really be the best thing for Circe? Would Circe ever truly be happy with her sisters in the world, inflicting death and destruction on everything they touched? Circe would spend the rest of her long life righting her sisters’ wrongs and helping those her sisters hurt. Would she ever reach her full potential in their shadows? Nanny was heartbroken in the wake of that revelation. I can’t refuse to help her now. I can’t go back on my word. Even if it would be the best thing for Circe if her sisters stayed asleep.
Circe’s face filled with grief. She had heard Nanny’s thoughts and felt betrayed by them. “How could you?” Circe cried as all the color drained from Nanny’s face.
Mistress of All Evil Page 6