“All right. I’ll get you on your train.” She had stayed with them until they were safely on the northbound metra, back to suburbia and normalcy.
Mirabelle didn’t know her name, but that is who she wanted to look like.
“Come on, clothes. Dress me like that badass, without being offensive to the United States military… which probably has no jurisdiction here.” She paused. “Does the military know about other realms? Could I get a job working for the government traveling to other realms and doing recon? I bet the health insurance would be phenomenal… Focus! Clothes, change to strong, soldier wear. And if a gun is possible, I would like a gun. And the knowledge of how to use a gun. Or some other kind of weapon that would incite fear in the Fae.” Mirabelle watched with wide eyes as her dress shifted, looser in places and tighter in others. That black gauzy number was now boots, black pants with several pockets all over the place, a black tank top, covered by a black military style jacket. She checked her belt just as a katana was forming. Iron! She remembered now, Fae hate iron and salt. Mirabelle didn’t know how to use a katana and that information did not seem to be appearing in her brain, but hopefully just the sight of it would be enough to strike fear in the Fae.
She was getting out of here a single girl.
“THE QUEEN!” A Fae shrieked like she was fan-girling over Lee Pace. Mirabelle ran her hand over the tight bun on her head, and walked towards the commotion.
The Queen arrived in style. She was carried by hybrid creatures that fell somewhere between humanoid Fae and grizzly bears. She was dressed in lavender gossamer, shimmering like a spiderweb after the rain. Her silver hair didn’t flow so much as floated around her like a cloud of iridescence. Mirabelle tried to catch a glimpse at her eyes, but they were forever changing color, shape, even size.
“Highest Queen!” Mirabelle called out. She dropped to her right knee and held out the flowers. “I have come to speak with you on a most important manner.” She risked a gaze up to find a very surprised queen.
“Loyal subjects, I beg you, who has brought a filthy witch, one who carries iron, into not only my realm, but my court?” Her voice was shrill and clearly annoyed. Good, Mirabelle thought. Maybe she could watch Blondie get a lashing.
“My dear sister,” his terrible voice began, “I did.” This was clearly not the answer the Queen had hoped for. Her guard closed in around her immediately, raising spears to protect her.
“You have been banished from this realm!” The Queen screeched. Several of the Fae gasped, one even fainted. As far as Mirabelle could tell, they were a dramatic people.
“My dearest betrothed has been kind enough to open the door for me.” Blondie motioned to her. “Step forward, Mirabelle.”
“Um, fuck you.” Mirabelle said plainly then turned to the Queen. “I opened no door for him. Your brother has terrorized me in my own realm. I am not marrying him; he drugged somehow and then coerced an acceptance out of me while I nearly froze to death. I only want to return to the human realm, preferably without him.”
“Mirabelle, before you go making rash decisions, you may want to hear the extant of the tiff between the Queen and I.” Blondie sauntered around the crowd, seeming to stalk his prey. “Long ago, our parents had a set of twins. Nearly unheard of in the Fae realm, especially for royalty. Royals only had one child, therefore causing no reason to dispute the line of inheritance. Our birth caused quite a stir, did it not, dear sister?” The Queen was silent. Her anger was quickly being swallowed by her growing fear.
“When we came of age, our parents had to choose; which of their children was more apt to rule? Well, usually the High Court was controlled by a Queen. There have been Kings in the past, but their reigns were short-lived and usually tumultuous. They went with the safe bet: endorse my sister. She took to the crown quite well and I was glad to sit by her side in a place of honor.” He paused. The Queen looked away from her brother. “But my sister wouldn’t have. Afraid I might somehow, someday steal the throne from her, she cast me into the human realm, a realm quite unsuited for our tastes.”
Well, this explained a lot. Mirabelle felt sorry for Blondie. Not sorry enough to forgive him for nearly killing her and kidnapping her, but enough to not kill him at least.
“So, what? I get it. You needed me to get home. Can I just leave then? Let the Fae decide who the ruler should be, and so on, and so on?” Mirabelle raised her eyebrows. At this point, it seemed she was only needed as a form of transport.
“He’ll never let you leave. You’re his only chance at taking over.” The Queen whispered.
“Dear sister, why don’t you speak up?” Blondie’s voice was quickly turning from false sincerity to sinister.
“A King cannot take over unless he has a queen. That’s why he needs you. He needs a High Queen.” The Queen spat out.
“I am surrounded by… beautiful… Fae women. Why doesn’t one of you step up to this challenge?” Mirabelle addressed the crowd.
“They can’t.” Blondie answered. “As a race, we take fealty very seriously. Every Fae here has sworn him or herself to my sister. If one of these women married me, she would be breaking her vow to my sister, and would be executed.” All the Fae women looked down. It became clear that this was very serious.
“So you brought me here to force me to marry you, so you could rule the High Court? Why don’t you just go to another court and marry some other Fae?”
“Excuse me for interrupting,” the butterfly woman interjected, “but why would you leave? You will rule the realm. If he succeeds, we will all pledge our undying loyalty to you.” The Queen raised her hand to one of her bear-guards, who stomped across the party and swatted at the butterfly woman, knocking her to the ground.
“I don’t want to live here!” Mirabelle exclaimed. “This is not my home. I have family, friends, and a true lover in my own realm whom I wish to return to. Ruling the Fae sounds like torture to me; I didn’t even run for class government in high school.” She was met with a myriad of quizzical looks.
“I am sorry you feel that way, my dear,” Blondie began, “But it is time for our wedding.” He gazed down at her new clothes, “Perhaps you should change into something more appropriate.”
“You know, I’ve never really thought about what I would wear to my coerced wedding.” Mirabelle was quickly looking around her; she needed to find some way to escape. A flash of bright red ran through the crowd. It caught her eye because no one in this realm wore red. Everything was pastels or dark, no bright colors. She followed the smudge with her eyes. It wasn’t high; it darted between the Fae at about waist height. Mirabelle looked at Blondie.
“Allow me to freshen up.” She stated. Blondie smiled, and bowed deeply.
“Whatever my bride needs.”
“Where are you?” Mirabelle whispered. “Who are you?” Mirabelle walked quickly between the trees trying to find the red creature.
“Over here.” A voice answered steadily. She ducked behind a large shrub and found herself face to face with a gnome.
“You’re a gnome! My sister knows gnomes!” She blurted out.
“Yes, yes. I’m Hirik, I know Anona. She treats me well, feeds me well, time I did a favor for her.” He was about three feet tall, wore a bright red pointed hat and red jacket. His beard was shorter than Mirabelle imagined a gnome would have and it was gray instead of white.
“Can you help me?” She pleaded.
“Yes, yes. You need this.” He rummaged through the shrub. “Take it.” He held out a gnarled broom.
“What do I do with it?” She questioned.
“You fly home.”
Chapter 14
“Come again?” Mirabelle exclaimed. She looked at the stern face of the gnome, realizing he was completely serious.
“You need to fly. It’s a sure way for a Traveler Witch to leave a realm and go back to where she came from. Even if you were able to find a portal, you could be thrown to any realm, at any time.” Hinrik explained, shoving the broom in
to her hands.
“I don’t know how to fly!” Mirabelle wailed. “What do I do? Are you coming with me? What if I fall?!” Her lamentations were becoming louder and more dramatic with every statement.
“You are a Traveler Witch, that much is clear. That Fae never could have followed you into the High Court if you were not. All Traveler Witches can fly in the Fae Realm. I am not coming with you; I do not travel that way. And lastly, hold on, and you won’t fall.” Hinrik answered slowly. “Now go. Your groom will come looking for you soon.” Hinrik disappeared into the foliage.
“Fuck!” Mirabelle whispered. She held the broom in her right hand and looked it over. It was a gnarled branch with sticks haphazardly tied to the base with twine. It most definitely looked homemade and that it would be no help in sweeping a kitchen.
“Deep breath.” Mirabelle closed her eyes. She reached deep in her mind, trying to pull back some of the magic she felt next to the fire on Samhain night. She thought every dream she’d ever had where she floated above the treetops flying on her own. She conjured enough courage, then jammed the broom between her legs, and opened her eyes.
“Fly.” She whispered, grasping tightly.
It was a sensation she had felt before. Similar to getting a real good deep breath, and then suspending oneself under water, flying was akin to being weightless. Mirabelle had no idea what she was doing, but it seemed the broom did. She first floated up, as if she had grabbed onto one hundred balloons. Then, she flew. She flew over trees and away from the Fae. She flew towards the forever setting or rising sun on the realm, not knowing if it was the right direction, only knowing that it was a fixed point and away.
She wondered if she would actually get out of Fae or if she would just fly around for a while, realizing that she had no idea how to land, and then jump onto the treetops and beg Blondie to let her go home. She wondered if she did escape, whether Blondie would find a way back into her realm. Would he be executed for trying to steal the throne? Would he find some independent Fae wandering the wilds to marry him? Could she fly in the human realm now? Obviously, Mirabelle knew she couldn’t go around flying a broom to do the grocery shopping or visit the city, but could she fly around the farm? That would be very convenient in the apple-picking season. She would like to forgo the uncomfortable ladder climbs.
She wondered how long it would take to get home. How long had she been gone? Time was fucked in the Fae realms; she knew that. At least she wasn’t in one of the seasonal realms where it gets really messed up. Hopefully it had been under a few hours. She would hate to think of Anona terrified, calling the police, filing a missing persons report.
She needed to get home.
After flying for what felt like hours but may have only been fifteen minutes, the sky changed. It was no longer dawn or dusk. It was clearly midday. The temperature dropped considerably and suddenly. Mirabelle looked down at her clothes to command some sort of coat, but found herself back in jeans and a sweatshirt.
And then, she fell.
She didn’t fall far, but far enough to know she was going to have a hell of a bruise on her thigh and her wrist might be sprained.
Muddy snow! The ground was wet and cool! She looked up. It was the farm. She was in the wooded area, but she knew she was home. She felt strange, probably a side effect of being in another realm. Her senses seemed heightened in every way. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, off her skin that was quickly becoming too hot. She wore a short sleeve shirt, but still felt overheated. She needed to get back to the house and have a glass of water. She had not eaten or drunk at the High Court, so Mirabelle knew she was dehydrated.
“Mirie!” Matthew yelled. Through the woods, he came running. Mirabelle’s face broke into a smile. She dropped her sweatshirt and ran towards him.
“Where were you?” He asked, pulling her into his arms. “We were so worried…” He kept talking, but Mirabelle heard nothing. The moment his bare hand hit her skin, she was lost. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He responded, pulling her waist roughly against his. She felt insatiable. Every movement he made overwhelmed her. She wanted to melt into him and feel every inch of him against her.
Somehow they stumbled against a tree, Mirabelle’s back against the rough bark. She pulled her shirt over her head, not caring at all for the cold, then pulling off Matthew’s coat and shirt.
“You’ll get cold.” He murmured against her mouth, unwilling to break away. She was already unbuckling his belt.
“I’m fine. Get your pants off.” In the back of her mind, Mirabelle was surprised by her boldness, but she needed him. She jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist, loving that he could pin her against the tree without any fears of falling to the ground.
“You are the most beautiful, crazy, amazing girl I’ve ever met.” Matthew breathed against her neck.
“I better be. We just had sex against a tree in January.” She laughed. They were still entwined, but now settled on the ground. Matthew’s coat covered both of them for now, though in the next minute or two, they were going to need to get their clothes on and go inside.
“I didn’t lie.” Mirabelle said softly to herself.
“Hmm?” Matthew nuzzled against her.
“I told James that you were a much better fuck than him. And that was actually mind-blowing.”
“Don’t call it that. I care about you far too much to call that a fuck.”
“Please don’t call it making love. That just gives me a pit in my stomach.”
“All right.” Matthew conceded. “We’ll have to think up some new phrase to explain the unreal experience we just had against the tree.” He pulled her closer and nibbled her shoulder. “That’s my new favorite tree. I’m going to visit it everyday.” Mirabelle burst out laughing. She rolled on top of him, her hands against his chest.
“I know we should go back inside…” Mirabelle began, soliciting a wicked grin from Matthew.
Screaming. Terrified, bloodcurdling screaming was coming from the house.
“Anona!” Mirabelle shouted, pulling her pants on. “We’re coming!” She yelled. She put her shirt on as she ran, leaving her shoes behind. Matthew was by her side in just his jeans running towards the house.
Anona stood in front of her porch, pointing. A large purple swirl was suspended over the vegetable garden.
“A bird just flew into that and disappeared!” Anona yelled. She saw Mirabelle at Matthew’s side and exhaled. “Thank all the gods, every last one, that you are back. I am going to ask you about where you went in a little while but first,” she motioned back to the swirl. “I think that’s a portal.” Anona looked at Mirabelle, her shirt barely pulled over her stomach, her jeans unbuttoned, and then at Matthew, shirtless.
“Oh, shit. What did you guys do?”
Welcome to Witchhood (Sister Witches Book 1) Page 14