by Amy Boyles
Chasity cocked her head. "Do you accept us?"
I rocked back, confused. "What do you mean?"
Chasity fingered a loose curl from her eyes. "Witches? It must be very hard for you to have been raised separately from your culture."
"Oh, it's not my culture."
One of her lips coiled into a smirk. "It might not seem like it is, but you have an entire network of sisters—those of us who are ready to help you and want to be friends with you."
"Yeah, you mean like the online forum?"
She nodded. "Them and more. We're not all bad, Dylan."
I grabbed a clump of rice and tossed it into my mouth. I needed to chew for a minute so I could figure out what to say. "I've been told that a few times. Not all witches are bad. There are some good ones. You know, if they could all be like you, I'd be fine. Would have no problems embracing the culture."
"You can't pick and choose what parts you want to accept. It's like accepting a friend. You either take all of them or you take none of them. You welcome the bad and the good."
I narrowed my eyes, trying to look like I was thinking hard on that one. "I'm working on it. Trying to accept it all."
She gave me a sad smile as if she didn't believe a word of what I was saying. "Sure. We have to take baby steps sometimes. Let me know when my kind is good enough for you."
Her words jackhammered a shard of pain straight into my heart. I placed a hand on her arm. "You're good enough for me. It's not like that."
Chasity nodded. "You love the magic but don't like the people." She gestured to everyone around the table. "This—this is your family. These people of magic are your people."
My gaze cut to the myriad of faces—some mostly human, others not. I tried not to grimace at the thought that this was my tribe.
Was everything I'd ever known about myself wrong? Was I really so narrow-minded that I thought I could live in my small town, work magic and keep every other witch at bay?
"I'll be back," I said.
I scooted out of the chair and walked to the edge of the banquet. We were under a grand canopy that quivered in the wind. I glanced out into the night. Stars winked from holes in the tree blanket that covered us. I decided I'd get some air—clear my head. Maybe even try to find my magic.
I stepped past a few monkey guards, who nodded to me. I walked deep into the forest of trees, my mind drifting. I prodded and poked at my magic, trying to find it, but whenever I got close, Pearbottom's face flashed before me. He was like an evil wizard sent to foil my plans at every turn.
Darn him.
I reached a grove of trees and leaned against one. I sighed into the trunk, letting its strength hold me up. Not that I was like, all screwed up in the head or anything. But Chasity's words did strike me. I mean, I thought I was accepting the witch people, or witches, into my life.
Apparently I wasn't.
I pushed off and strode forward. A dark figure stepped out of the grove to my left. I stopped. A cold bolt of fear surged through to my fingers. My breath hitched. If this was Pearbottom, I was toast. After seeing what he did to the fake Chasity, I had no hope of living if he reached out and blasted me.
My best chance was to pretend I was lethal. "Who's there? I'm armed and dangerous."
The figure stepped into a pool of moonlight.
I sighed, relieved. "Clothar. What are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same question. You're in my territory now."
"I didn't mean to trespass."
A moonbeam bathed his pixie features. The king smiled. "You're not. Come. There's something you should see."
I followed him to a field. A sea of winking stars shone like diamonds above us. I watched as one blazed past, shooting across the night sky. Then a herd followed, leaving a trail of silver stardust in their wake. My mouth slackened in awe.
"It's beautiful," I said.
"That's not why we're here," he said.
"Then why?"
He nodded to the ground. Small orbs of light danced atop the grass. They flickered and blinked like lightning bugs in early summer. But these weren't the warm golden glow of insects. These lights were stark white.
"What are they?" I asked.
"Sprites," Clothar said. "Come to taste the night."
"Why, they're so cute."
He smirked. "They're beautiful."
I nodded. They were. They flitted on the grass as if dancing to music. They zipped around each other, lights entwining, blurring to the point where it was difficult to tell where one sprite ended and another began. I watched as they drifted from the ground up around my ankles, then my waist.
At first, it was only a few. But then those few seemed to be magnetized. More sprites gathered, herding around me like a thick rope of light.
I stretched out my fingertip, trying to touch one. "What are they doing?"
"Meeting you," Clothar said.
"They're not going to hurt me, are they?" I joked.
"I don't think so."
Panic scrambled up my throat. "You don't think so?"
"Sometimes they do."
I tried brushing them away. "Get them off."
Clothar didn't make a move to help.
More sprites surrounded me. I was being walled in, walled up by them. They had formed a cylinder around me that had reached my chin.
"It's not my place to stop them," Clothar said. "She wants to see you."
The light had wrapped up to my eyes. Sprites covered nearly every inch of me. They whirred and buzzed, closing in. My vision blurred. Everything was getting so, so fuzzy.
"Who? Who wants to see me?"
I watched the last speck of Clothar fade away as he said, "Their queen."
Then he was gone.
TWENTY-TWO
The light slowly receded, seeming to take forever to vanish completely. Fear clawed at my gut. My chest heaved. I had to calm myself from having a serious panic attack.
Everything will be okay. Just breathe.
Calm seeped into my bones. Even though Clothar had insinuated that the sprites could harm me, I didn't feel like they were going to.
I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy.
Probably I'm crazy.
I blinked my eyes open. I wasn't in the field anymore. Clothar was nowhere to be found. I had arrived inside a cave. Torchlight licked the amber walls. Water dripped somewhere in a hollow, its echo drifting into my ears.
"So you're the human who watched us."
The voice came from behind. I slowly turned and saw a small, ant-like woman with large dark eyes and an almost triangle-shaped head. Her skin was pale, nearly translucent, and she wore gauzelike clothing that made her look like she was wrapped in seafoam.
Hmm. It would have made an interesting dress. I wondered if I could buy that fabric somewhere. Sorry, I couldn't help but think about clothes.
My voice trembled. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to disturb you. If I did something wrong, send me back." Because I really didn't know what I was doing here in the first place.
"You watch. We watch you. Those are the rules," she said. Her voice was almost a hiss. Not exactly all warm and cuddly.
"I'm sorry. Like I said, I didn't mean to intrude on you. If you want to send me back, please do."
Because you're really starting to creep me out.
"No."
"No?" Not sure what that meant.
"No. You won't go back. Not until I decide about you."
"Okay," I said.
Long pause.
"How do you decide?" I said.
"Humans aren't supposed to see us."
"Oh, I'm not human. I'm a witch."
The sprite hissed at me. Yeah, like a cat warning off a dog. "Even worse! Creatures of magic that are sisters and brothers are sprites and fairies, sprites and the monkeys—not sprites and witches. There is no pact of peace between us. Witches have taken us, used our powers of healing the earth to help themselves. You are selfish beings."
"Tell me abou
t it," I said. "They're horrible. Always killing each other. I tell you, ever since I discovered that I'm one, it seems like dead bodies are popping up all over the place."
She eyed me skeptically.
"I'm not kidding. No sirree. So." I clapped my hands together. "Since it looks like my time here is done, do you mind sending me back?"
"Silence," she yelled.
"I guess that's a no."
Her black eyes glinted in the light. "You will pay for what your people have done to mine."
"What? Me?"
"You."
I held out my hands. "Whoa. I'm not the guilty party here. I've never harmed you."
"Does that matter?"
I nodded. "Yes, it most certainly does matter." Wow. I had to think deep and fast here. "Our people shouldn't be parted. We shouldn't hate each other. We have differences, but we need to work together. We're all magical beings. We're special. That should mean something."
Wow. Where did that speech come from?
She glared at me.
"Look. I saw some rough patches of grass out there in your yard. I'll heal them—make them green again." Total lie, but I was hoping this would work.
The queen cocked her head. "You don't have any magic."
Was I wearing a sign or something?
"I do. I do have magic. It's just hidden away inside me. It's deep down. I can get to it. When I do, I'll use it to help your people. Shouldn't be any more than a day or two."
I hope.
The queen was silent. She seemed to be considering my offer.
"No."
"What? No? Why? That's a good offer. You should reconsider."
"Why should I believe someone who can't find their own magic? Who doesn't know the depths of their own soul?"
I scratched my head. "Well—"
"That wasn't a question," she snapped. "You say you are a witch, but I see no evidence. You may as well have put on a mask and tell me you're someone else."
Put on a mask? Her words triggered a thought inside my head. A thought that was crazy but could be correct. At that moment I realized I needed to get out of Spriteland, or wherever I was.
"Okay, so what do I have to do to convince you that I'm good, I know my own soul, I can make your grass green again?"
The queen thought about it for a minute. "You must marry my son."
"Whoa. I'm not marrying anyone."
Especially if he looks like you.
"Then you must take a drink from the fountain of death."
I backed up. "That doesn't sound any better. Can I have a third option, please?"
"No."
Crap. How the heck do I get into situations like this? And where the heck did Clothar go? He's the one who led me here.
"Okay. So this fountain of death. What's it going to do to me?"
The queen blinked toward the back wall. For the first time I noticed a pool of water. It was the color of pitch with a small gurgling ball right in the center.
"The fountain will tell you the truth."
"The truth?" That didn't sound so bad.
"The truth has been known to drive men mad."
I crossed my arms. "Well, I'm a woman, so I should be okay."
"Women, too."
I rolled my eyes. She just had to outdo me, didn't she? "Okay, well, I need to get back. So that's your promise, right? I drink from this fountain and I'm good to go? You'll send me back to the lawn." Where I will find Clothar and step on his toes. Sheesh. For someone who liked my clothes, he had a funny way of showing it.
"That is the agreement," she said.
I stepped over to the pool and dropped to my knees. To say it didn't look that bad was a total lie. The water appeared horrible. It was black as night and looked like it would seriously kill you if you drank even the smallest amount. I mean, who wants to drink black water? It reminded me of drinking sludge. Oh, and the stench. Putrid as all get out. I nearly vomited right there.
I was pretty sure I already had enough environmental toxins in my body. I didn't need any more. Especially not from a sprite I didn't even know if I could trust.
"There is no time to waste."
What? Did she have a hot date or something? Was there some gentleman sprite waiting in the wings to blink his huge eyes at her?
I doubted it.
I dipped my hand into the pool. A shiver ran up my spine at the feel of the cool water. I spread my fingers, and it ran out a pale gray. Okay, so it wasn't totally black. Maybe it wasn't as toxic as I thought.
"Drink," she commanded.
Well, here went nothing. I scooped up a good palmful, brought it to my lips and let the liquid spill over my tongue. It didn't taste as awful as it smelled. It had a sort of ironlike zing, but other than that it was totally fine.
I pushed myself up to my feet. "That's done. Okay. Can I go back now?"
The queen smiled like a serpent about to strike. "It's not done yet."
A tornado of magic ripped through my thoughts so hard I fell to my knees, bracing against the ground. I closed my eyes as a whirlwind of images thrashed in my head.
Dear Lord in heaven.
All my fears about witches and about myself tore into me, pummeling my mind. It was as if I was feeling every inch of insecurity and doubt all at once. Everything crashed down on me, and I knew my mind would be torn to shreds.
My breath quickened. Fast shallow tugs of air pumped through my lungs. I tried to focus on taking in oxygen slow and steady, but the wave of images in my mind lassoed my concentration. The thoughts were so dense, pinpointing on my apparent hatred of witches and witchcraft.
It's not true, I shouted in my head. None of it! I don't hate witches!
But the disturbing images continued. All of it focused on my distrust, on my inability to accept the world I'd been thrown into it.
It was crushing. Literally. An immense pressure pushed on me. It bore down on my head, then started in on my chest.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't get air.
It was all too much. I felt things getting dark, dimming.
A flash of thought sparked.
I was doing it wrong. I was letting the thoughts hit me when I should have been taking them in and seeing them for what they were.
Everything in my head switched. I stopped fighting the images and accepted them. It was a metaphor for what I'd been doing in the months since discovering I was a witch.
I'd been fighting.
It was time to stop. Time to accept it all. Everything. Time to embrace the witches themselves—the good, the bad, the hideous.
The pressure subsided. The crashing intensity lightened to the point where I could finally stand. I rose on wobbly legs.
Energy thrummed in my body as if I were a plucked string on a violin. It felt like lightning coursed through my arms and legs, giving me a strength I'd never felt before. I seriously thought I could lift ten men with one hand.
I know—cool, right?
I turned to face the sprite queen. Black eyes blinked at me. Her tiny mouth slowly coiled into a smile. "You drank the water. You survived."
"Yeah," I said.
She pointed to my hand. "Look."
I lifted my limb. My veins pulsed with light. Apparently the energy I was feeling could be seen, too. My voice came out hoarse, raspy. "What is it?"
"Truth."
"Will it last?"
"It will disappear as soon as you leave."
That was probably good. I didn't need to look like a freak—I mean, I was already kinda weird. Why show it, you know?
"Good." I took a deep breath. "I'm ready to go back. I need to return."
"You've learned the truth."
"I've accepted it. I know who I am."
"Why do you want to return?" she asked. "You could stay, marry my son."
I held my breath. "That sounds great and all, but there's something I need to do."
"What's that?"
I held her gaze long and hard before saying, "Lady, I've got a mu
rder to solve."
TWENTY-THREE
The queen transported me back to Monkey Town. I had to admit, it was good to get out of the cavern of terror and my near-death experience with some black water. The encounter had left my body burning with energy. I felt alive. Right, I mean more alive than I had going into it—plus, I had an idea. Something the queen had said made me think that we'd been looking at this whole Pearbottom thing all wrong.
Of course, I could be way off track. It wouldn't be the first time.
I entered Monkey Town on the outskirts of the banquet canopy. I looked for Roman. My gaze cut from one side of the canopy to the other. Finally, I found him tucked in the back talking to Brock.
Sera intercepted me before I could reach him. "Hey, what have you been up to?"
"Oh, well. Kind of a long story."
She smirked. "Interesting. Listen, I've been thinking about Chasity."
"You have?"
Sera ran a palm over her naked arms. "Yeah, I feel bad that she lost her mother. Do you think we should offer to let her stay with us for a while? She's really helping Reid."
I poked the air with my finger. "Hold that thought. That's a good suggestion and we can definitely talk about it, though she'll probably get tired of sleeping on the couch."
"You have a big bed," Sera said. "She can sleep with you."
"Very funny."
Sera shrugged. "She could take my room."
I nearly staggered back and fell into the canopy. "What do you mean, take your room?"
Sera hunched her shoulders in embarrassment. "I'm thinking about coming here."
"Coming here? Why would you be thinking of coming here?"
Her gaze flicked to Brock.
I grabbed Sera by the arm and yanked her forward. "What are you saying? Did he ask you to marry him?"
Sera's teeth sank into her bottom lip. "We've sort of been discussing it."
"What? I knew you had, but I mean, come on."
Sera rolled her eyes. "Nothing's changed since the last time I talked to you about this."
"You can't leave," I said. "You can't run off."
Sera cocked her head to one side. "I don't have a ring or anything. It's not set in stone."
Whew. I wiped a line of sweat off my brow. "Good. Until you've got a ring and a date, I don't want to discuss this. I need you. You can't leave me."