I couldn't process it all, so I was focusing on the little things.
“The monkeys are scouts.” Mom nodded. “The orb is a viewing device that my sisters use to see what the monkey sees. But being a scout doesn't mean that the flying monkeys aren't dangerous.”
“So, you're saying that someone sent this monkey to watch over the destroyed Munchkin Village?”
“It was most likely Glinda,” Mom said. “She took her rage out on the poor Munchkins and then left her monkey here to wait for your return.”
“Do you think it saw you?” I asked.
“I hope not; the element of surprise was on our side,” Mom said. “But if it did see me—more importantly; if one of my sisters saw me—I'll deal with it.”
“Tavia!” A little voice cried.
We turned to see a handful of Munchkins come stumbling out of the woods; some of them carrying their injured friends.
“Salvo!” Mom ran over to the Munchkins. “Are you the only survivors?”
“No; there are more of us. Only a few were killed,” he said. “They were more interested in wreaking havoc.”
“Who did this?” I asked him.
“The flying bears,” he whispered. “They came at dusk the day you arrived.”
“Glinda!” My mother hissed. “That evil bitch!”
“We will rebuild,” the man said stoically. “This is not the first time we have done so.”
“I will help you,” Mom said gently.
“And I,” I offered.
“Thank you, but we will be fine,” Salvo said. “We'd much rather you be training, Dareaux. If you can destroy the Wizard and the other Air Witches, this will never happen again—not to anyone in Oz.”
“My daughter is new to Oz, and she—”
“Needs to train,” I declared and then looked at my mother determinedly. “I need to start my training.”
Mom started to smile.
5
“Focus, Dareaux,” Mom said calmly.
“I am focused,” I growled in frustration.
I held my arms rigidly before me; as if tightening my muscles might help to push the magic out of me. Toto lifted his head hopefully; he was lying at my mother's feet. I ignored his eager expression and concentrated on blowing over the wooden cup on the rock wall before me. I did just as Mom had instructed me; envisioning a blast of blue light hitting the cup and knocking it over. We had done splendidly with my Air training. I could call upon it with ease and have even learned how to access the reserve of power in the silver slippers. But my blue, Water magic had eluded me. Mom had warned me that she didn't know how to train someone to use Water; she couldn't even sense whether the magic was responding to me or not. But I had to learn, and so we kept trying. I focused and willed; just as I had done with Air.
A slight tingle zipped out of my fingers, moisture collected into mist before me, and then it dispersed.
“Ugh!” I threw my arms up with frustration.
Toto huffed and lowered his head back to his paws.
“Calm down; you've only just begun,” my mother said.
“The Air magic was a breeze—pun intended,” I said. “Why can't I manage to fill a little cup with water?”
“I'm sorry, Dareaux; magic responds differently to each person, and I'm not the best teacher for Water,” she said gently. “But I do know that all magic wants to be used. It will help you; we just have to be patient.”
“I've done exactly as you told me,” I huffed. “And yet that darn cup”—I slashed my hand out at the cup in frustration—“is still empty!”
As the last words left my mouth, my whole body filled with thrumming energy that focused itself into my fingers. I didn't see a blue light—as I sometimes saw a yellow light with the Air magic—but I felt the power leave me. I felt it blast out and hit the air over the cup. Water condensed in the air and dumped into the cup; so much of it that the cup went tumbling off the wall with the deluge.
My mother and I gaped at the cup; lying in a puddle that was too large to be immediately absorbed by the earth.
“That's it,” she whispered. “Anger gives you direct access to your magic. We'll use it as a way in.”
“A way in?” I murmured as I continued to stare at the slowly disappearing puddle—a pond really. “I think I'm already in.”
“You cannot wield magic only when you're angry, Dareaux,” Mom chided. “It would make you bitter, and your magic would turn with you. But we can use this path to connect you with Water and perhaps even the combination of your elements.”
Mom canted her head and stared at me consideringly. She came closer and ran her hands through the air around my body; her fingers fluttering as if feeling a breeze. Then she nodded as her eyes narrowing with her conclusion.
“The power is radiating off of you,” she declared. “You are bleeding magic, and we need to staunch the flow before you can direct it.”
“Okay.” I frowned. “And how do we do that?”
My mother slapped me.
“Ow!” I snarled as I held a hand to my cheek. “What the hell?”
“There!” She pointed to a misty area around my hands.
The air was disturbed; rolling and condensing like fog off the ocean.
“You are a storm witch!” She declared. “We've been going about this wrong. Instead of training you to use your individual magics, I should have been training you to use your Storm magic; the combination of the two.”
I looked down at my hands in amazement. Tiny droplets of water were swirling around my fingertips.
“Hold onto that energy, Dareaux!” My mother exclaimed excitedly. “Close your eyes and feel every nuance of your magic; feel what it does to your body when it rises.”
I closed my eyes and focused my attention inward. There was a fluttering in my stomach, but that was only the beginning. A blustering tingle rushed through my limbs, along with a rolling, wet heaviness. I could sense each one distinctly, and yet, they were blended together. As I concentrated, I even began to see them. First, it was one swirling force of vibrant green, but slowly, I began to notice particles within the mass. Deep cerulean blue—like the coldest depths of the ocean, and bright yellow—the color of dandelions and goldfinches, combined to create the verdant magic within me.
As soon as I recognized the colors, they recognized me. The blue came rushing to life; flowing through my body with the power of a tidal wave. Then the yellow blasted along my bones like wind across the desert. I could feel Air and Water inside me, and once I did, I could also feel them merge into one.
Blue Water met yellow Air and twisted together into green again; the color of life. I sighed as the energy pulsed through me; filling every cell of my body before it calmed into something steady. It collected at the base of my spine and emitted a gentle thrum of power to keep me aware of its presence. The storm had dissipated from my veins, but I knew that I could call it up with a mere thought; the magic and I were one. I inhaled deeply and opened my eyes.
Toto had moved and was sitting right in front of me. My mother was in a different spot as well; seated on the rock wall where the cup had once been. She was staring at me with the half-lidded gaze of someone who had been doing so for awhile. Then Toto yipped, and Mom flinched. Her eyes widened, and she jumped down from her perch.
“Dareaux?” She asked hesitantly. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.” I frowned in confusion. “I did as you said and felt for my magic.”
“Okay,” Mom murmured as she looked me over. “That's good. And how do you feel?”
“I feel...” I smiled brightly. “I feel fantastic!”
Toto yipped again happily.
I threw my arms out and took a deep breath of the fresh, Oz air as I stretched my back. My muscles were stiff; more than they should have been from just a few minutes of standing still. I closed my eyes briefly and felt my magic pulse through my muscles and massage away my soreness. Now, that was a trick I'd be using a lot. I opened my eyes
with a satisfied smile and looked around the clearing.
We had been training in the meadow behind my mother's cottage. There was a vegetable garden to my right, flowers to my left, and then a low rock wall that formed the garden's boundary. A gate was set between the flower beds; leading to the forest. My mother was very tidy, and I couldn't find anything laying around the garden. So, I directed my magic to the flower beds and envisioned a green glow picking a purple bloom.
Immediately, my magic rose. It didn't blast from me like before, but instead flowed gently out of my fingers and twirled around the stalk of the flower I'd chosen. With a slight twist of my hand, it plucked the flower. The petals swayed in a soft breeze as the flower rose and floated over to my amazed mother. She took it from the air and then lifted it above her head with a triumphant shout.
“That's my baby girl!”
I chuckled as Mom rushed over and hugged me.
“It wasn't that hard after all,” I said with satisfaction.
Mom frowned as she pulled back from our hug. “Wasn't that hard? Honey, how long do you think you were meditating with your magic?”
“How long?” I asked. “I don't know; a few minutes.”
Mom's eyes widened.
“How long was it?” I asked with concern as I looked around the clearing.
The garden was the same as it had been when I'd first closed my eyes; the sun bright overhead. There's no way it had been longer than an hour, but that was a hell of a lot longer than I thought it had been. I looked down at my feet and moved them to check out the grass. It was crushed as if I'd been standing in the same spot for awhile, but I saw no other signs of movement around me.
“Was I standing here for an hour?” I asked in shock.
“An hour?” My mom made a huffing sound of disbelief. “Dareaux; it's been over twenty-four hours. You've been standing there with your eyes closed for an entire day. I had to wrap you in a blanket and light a fire for us last night. I didn't want to risk moving you.”
Mom waved her hand behind me, and I turned to see a metal fire pit with the remnants of a fire within it. On the ground nearby was a pile of discarded blankets.
“Holy moly,” I whispered.
“Holy something, all right,” my mother said. “You went deep into your magic and came out with the proficiency of a fully matured witch. I've never seen anything like it, Dareaux Thelia.” She touched my cheek gently. “You are a miracle.”
6
Despite my magical “maturity” level, my mother continued my training for another week before she deemed me ready to be presented to the elemental tribes. My training consisted of magical warfare during the day with tribal culture and politics at night. It was like cramming for the biggest exam of my life. But when the morning of our departure arrived, I felt ready.
Mom, Toto, and I were traveling to meet with the Fire Witches first. We had walked a yellow brick road—laid out for us by my silver slippers—to the desert region of the Fire Tribe, and finally arrived at their village. Soaring buildings of stone and metal loomed above the border of an encircling, sandstone wall. Red pennants flew from the highest tower among them; giving it a medieval feel. Bushy date trees lined our path to the main gates, and the scent of sage carried on the breeze.
“Remember; fire witches respect intelligence,” my mother said as we walked through an impressive pair of metal gates.
“I know, Mom,” I whispered as I looked around.
Mom had told me all about the technology-loving fire witches who used their magic to mold metal into machinery and infuse it with power. She had said that the Fire Tribe had found ways to make themselves nearly as powerful as the Air Witches through sheer ingenuity. Upon hearing that, I had imagined a little piece of my world within Oz; our sort of technological advances and perhaps even our types of buildings. But the moment I walked into the Fire Village, I learned that Oz never did what was expected of it.
The walls around the Fire Village had vicious-looking points atop them, and even more vicious-looking men stationed behind those points; dressed in sleek suits of armor, strapped on over crimson uniforms. A pair of these soldiers had opened the gates for us and stared warily at us as we passed by. As soon as my mother and I were inside, the soldiers closed the gates and then simultaneously turned a pair of levers; one at either side of the entrance. A whirring noise announced the movement of gears, and two massive metal bars slid across the doors.
We had to wait while the tribal leaders were notified of our arrival. As we stood in the shade of the guards' tent, to the side of a cobbled road, I watched the daily routines of the Fire Witches with wonder. There were vehicles rolling about, but I wouldn't call them cars. They did seem to function with a type of combustion engine—the evidence of exhaust pipes giving that away—but they were the most wondrous-strange contraptions of wood, brass, copper, and steel. Large, wood and metal wheels were attached to carved wood platforms, glass bubbles, or even steel chairs. The conveyances carried people, goods, and livestock around the village.
Most of the villagers gave us curious looks as they passed; none as suspicious as the soldiers on duty. Some of them bowed respectfully to my mother or offered her a warm greeting, and she responded with equal affection. They were a fair-skinned people; prone to red hair. I'd liken them to Irish, but they weren't quite that pale, and their eyes ranged through all the colors of the rainbow. They wore serviceable clothing—strong material made in simple styles—but, over that, nearly all of them had devices strapped to their bodies.
Some wore metal gauntlets, some had strips of gears going down their backs, and some even had circlets on their heads with machinery hanging over their eyes or ears. Their homes were similarly adorned with various pieces of mechanical equipment. I noticed one small machine scrubbing at the bricks of a building; leaving a clean stripe in its wake.
“Like a Roomba for walls,” I whispered.
“What's that?” My mom asked.
“Nothing,” I murmured.
“Lady Tavia,” a deep, male voice said. “Welcome back to the village of Hearth.”
“Thank you,” my mother said as we turned toward the sound. “Ah, it's you, Rantin. I thought I recognized your voice.”
“It's my honor to escort you to the Council Hall,” Rantin bowed his head to my mother as he spoke.
“This is my daughter, Dareaux Thelia.” My mother waved a hand my way. “Dareaux, this is Sir Rantin.”
“My lady.” Rantin bowed to me.
I opened my mouth but couldn't form any words; he had stolen them all from me, along with my breath. Rantin wore the streamlined armor of the soldiers, but his clothing was pale gray; making it appear as if he were coated entirely in metal. And that armor fit him far better than any of the soldiers I'd seen so far. The metal conformed to Rantin's body as if it had been cast for him specifically; emphasizing his muscles instead of covering them. His shoulders looked massive; even more so with the gray fur cape that was attached to his pauldrons. But his body was only the beginning.
Rantin had a chiseled chin that swept up into a solid jaw and sensual lips. A strong nose sat above those kissable lips—looking as if it were also forged for him—and his cheekbones were sharp slashes to the sides. Cool, gray eyes surveyed me skeptically and then narrowed as I continued to stare. The silence drug on, and his elegant, auburn eyebrows lifted in question; wrinkling his high forehead.
“Dareaux,” my mother whispered, “what's wrong with you?”
Toto nudged my hand with his wet nose, and I jerked out of my bemusement.
“Sorry.” I cleared my throat and held out my hand. “It's been a long walk; I suppose I'm a bit tired. It's nice to meet you, Sir Rantin.”
Rantin blinked rapidly as he looked down at my hand. My mother cleared her throat with a chuckle. I realized that I had made a social faux pas, but it was too late to back down. Rantin was also too chivalrous to leave me hanging. He wrapped his large hand around mine, but then turned it so that my palm was
down. He lifted my gloved hand and kissed it gallantly. I sighed at the romantic gesture, and as I exhaled, a tingle of something passed from my hand and into his lips. It was the barest trace of magic—dampened by my glove—but Rantin inhaled sharply; jerking upright as his widened gaze met mine. The coolness within his eyes was rapidly vanishing.
“A pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Dareaux,” Rantin murmured; his voice going even lower.
My mother's confused look was replaced by one of keen interest. She scrutinized the two of us for a few moments before she cleared her throat loudly. Rantin inhaled sharply and straightened. I hadn't even realized that his face was mere inches from mine. I looked at my mother in surprise, and she winked at me.
“If you'll follow me.” Rantin cleared his throat and turned on his heels to lead us through the crowded streets.
I found myself admiring the way the sunlight caught the deep red tones in Rantin's hair. The sleek, swept-back strands seemed to ignite in streamers, up and down their short length. His hair ended in a V at the base of his skull; drawing my eye to a silver disc embedded there. I frowned at it, but I couldn't ask my mother what it was; not with Rantin walking mere inches away from us.
Then we were being led into the pennant-topped building I had spotted from the road. Its doors were twice as tall as Rantin, and he was at least eight inches taller than my five-foot-six. The doors were opened for us by another pair of guards, but Rantin got the next door we came to and ushered us into a modestly sized room with masculine furniture and a large fireplace at one end. He walked us down to the cheery fire where two men and one woman waited for us; seated in high-backed chairs.
“Welcome, Lady Tavia and Lady Dareaux,” the woman said. “Please, sit down. We've been expecting you.”
“Our apologies for the lateness of our arrival,” my mother said as she took a seat across from the three witch leaders. “My estimate was a bit off.”
“No matter,” one of the men said. “It's close enough.”
Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection Page 79