by Allie Burton
“A battle is brewing, and we’ll need everyone on our side.” Gardenia’s expression hardened. Her gaze narrowed and glinted like diamonds.
The agreement had been made. I’d never need to see her again once I succeeded in attending the ball. Pressing my feet into the dirt, I let the scent comfort me. “I’m not fighting, so there’s no need to train.”
The smoke sprite became a wispy billow.
“Training is your birthright.” Her voice strengthened and the air around her trembled.
Arbor trembled.
I refused to show fear. “My home is my birthright. Being human is my birthright. Well, half-birthright.” The house had been in my father’s family for generations, ever since Concealment Day when our little kingdom had hidden itself from the world. “And once I advance to technical school there will be no question about my human ancestry.”
“You haven’t advanced yet.”
I was done with threats from women trying to control my future. First my stepmother, and now my fairy godmother. I had my own plan.
Determination solidified in my bones. “I will soon, don’t worry.”
Gardenia smirked, and her pupils glittered. “I never worry because you won’t win our wager.”
Her confidence shredded my already frayed nerves. What did my fairy godmother know that I didn’t?
* * *
Turns out Gardenia knew plenty more than me. Which I’d realized on my sixteenth birthday and should’ve swayed me not to make the bet. That day, I’d woken up to Arbor’s greeting of happy birthday spelled out in smoke. The best start to my birthday since Dad died.
“Thanks, Arbor.”
“Do you feel different?” Her odd question should’ve clued me in.
“Older?” Not really. I felt the same. A bit more loved because of our new friendship.
Arbor had arrived in the backyard a couple of months ago. She’d made me laugh and we’d become instant, although secret friends. She’d run away from her sprite home, which I empathized with and dreamed about. Except I wanted my stepfamily to do the running.
After dressing and doing my morning chores, which I didn’t get out of even though it was my birthday, I headed out the door for school.
Arbor flew out the small attic window potentially exposing herself. “Have a nice day.”
“Thanks?” I glanced at the front of the house worried one of my stepsisters might see her. Ilana and Ingrid left later because they both owned hover shoes and could get to school quicker.
Arbor normally stayed hidden until everyone left the house. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes.” I knew no one at school would tell me happy birthday, and my stepmother never gave me gifts. It would be a regular day except for Arbor’s good wishes. And another day closer to my freedom. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” Her smoke changed to red. “Be careful.”
Ha! I was careful every day. I had to be with my secret.
Once there, Jade shoved a piece of paper in my hand. “Join the movement.”
As if I’d be interested in a club or concert or some other foolish school event. I wasn’t interested, and I wouldn’t be welcomed. My stepsisters had made sure of that by spreading false rumors, knowing the biggest negative about me they couldn’t share.
The bright orange flyer flipped, and I caught the words zauber and criminals. My muscles tightened, and I flattened my lips into a grimace.
Don’t let the zaubers catch you off guard. Join Prince Zacharye’s Youth Brigade and help the Security Collectors of Unique Magic catch the criminals in our midst.
I crumpled the paper in my hand and my short nails dug into my skin. The prince was building his own army. An army of students who’d been indoctrinated to believe majiks were bad. I understood their fears. Majiks had powers that could be used to the detriment of humans. And yet, humans ruled the country. They had an army, now two, and they had control of the government.
Everyone had power except me.
Fisting my hand tighter and crumpling the paper more, I blew out a slow breath trying to control the antagonism stirring inside. Being half-fairy, I was fearful for my life and had none of the magical benefits. I took another breath, this one hotter and madder. My stepmother took advantage of me because of my secret, I was hated by the other kids because of my stepsisters, and I was terrified of discovery.
Always terrified.
The stirring whipped into an angry foam in my stomach. The paper almost returned to the original pulp with the force of my crushing fingers.
“Join the movement,” Jade called to another student.
If lots of students joined the brigade there would be spies in every classroom, every hallway, every bathroom stall. I wished those flyers would disappear.
Jade tumbled to the floor. The flyers flew in the air.
I held in a gasp.
The doors burst open and a strong gust buffeted the hallway sweeping the orange flyers up in the wind, swirling them in a tornado, and carrying them back outside. An unnatural gale.
My eyes opened wide following the paper path. The flyers hadn’t disappeared, but they were gone. Like I’d wanted. Like I’d wished.
Like I’d made happen?
That’s when I knew something had changed. I had changed. And hiding my newly emerging powers was going to make life more dangerous. Especially powers I couldn’t control.
“Are you going to be okay?” Arbor’s question brought me back to my current problem.
I needed to find a dress for the ball.
“I’ll be fine.” I kneeled by the old wooden chest in my attic bedroom bracing myself. Carvings of a forest seemed alive on the lid with fairies flying, elves hunting, and a troll hiding behind a realistic rock. The love-hate relationship I had with my mother’s things rustled in my lungs. The reason I’d taken so long to decide on selling the perfume bottle.
I flipped open the lid. Mustiness mixed with my mom’s flowery perfume stung my nose and eyes. Sniffling, I swiped at my face trying to get ahold of the emotions. Mine and my mother’s. Even though I didn’t remember much of my mom, I missed her. With my father I had memories I could pull out for consolation and encouragement. With Mom I had nothing but a feeling.
Comfort and closeness. Light and love. Sparks and specialness.
Arbor fluttered around the cramped attic-turned-bedroom, leaving a trail of smoke. Boxes of old stuff, broken furniture, and my bed had been shoved into the eight-by-ten-foot space. I could barely stand in the low-ceilinged room and I was short. The one positive thing was with the long electronic ladder leading up here my stepsisters rarely intruded on my privacy.
I forced myself to peer inside the chest knowing with each item I touched, an emotion would assault. Not my feelings. My mother’s.
Another part of my fairy curse.
A part training would help control, or so Arbor said.
She’d explained the difference between fairy magic and the bond fairies had with nature. The humming to calm, causing flowers to dance, and this connection I made through my mom’s things was an instinctive fairy kinship with the earth and other fairies.
Too bad she hadn’t been my friend four years ago when my father had died. I’d taken the electronic ladder to the attic, a room barely used, to escape my stepmother’s hysterics. I’d opened Mom’s old trunk, and perfume had wafted out releasing a wave of comfort. I’d wanted to wrap myself up in the warmth, so I picked up a wool scarf decorated with butterflies and flowers. I shivered. The last time my mom had worn the scarf she’d not been cold, but afraid.
I used the tips of my fingers to push a photo album and a journal toward the side of the chest. The fewer things I touched the less of my mom’s emotions I’d experience. A long chain with an amulet slid between folded clothes. Another item I wouldn’t worry about. I was searching for a dress. Any kind of a dress at this point. The ball would start in a couple of hours.
A floral print caught my attention. The cotton fabric was fra
yed and not as elegant as I’d want for the ball. But a dress was a dress. I couldn’t be picky.
Rubbing my fingers together, I pinched the fabric and tugged it out of the trunk. The soft cotton soothed my nerves before I became flushed. A happy-satisfied-cocooning love threatened to suffocate me. The emotion was so unfamiliar. I sucked down air through my throat which had closed like a dented metal straw.
“Elle, what’s wrong?” Arbor’s concern loosened the hold.
I sucked again this time breaking free of the latent emotions in the fabric.
“Nothing. Nothing.” I shook my head not wanting to explain how the contrast between Mom’s happiness and my current situation had nearly broken me. My eyes burned. If both my parents had been alive my life would be different.
Focusing on what life could’ve been wasn’t going to help my situation. I’d made a bet and I needed to focus on getting a dress, getting to the ball, of taking my place in human society. Every girl of eligible age would get to dance with Prince Zacharye, and I planned to be waiting in line with the other girls from school. Not because I wanted to dance with some spoiled prince who cared more about himself than half the population, meaning the majiks, but because people would see me there and assume I was human.
“What do you think of this?” Standing, I held the flowered dress in front of me.
The hem came to my knees. The waistline seemed too narrow. And the un-fashionable sleeves signaled the decade the dress had been created. I’d look foolish wearing this to a royal ball, even so I’d be there. And not naked.
Arbor buzzed around the dress. “Appears a little small.”
My shoulders slumped, and I tossed the dress to the floor. That had been my original assessment. I’d been hoping I was wrong. “What am I going to do?”
“What about an elongator spell?” My friend held up a small portion of the dress barely lifting it off the ground. Even though she acted tough, physical strength was not one of her qualities.
The idea tempted. “My magic misfires when I try, and even when I don’t.”
I cringed, remembering the other day at school when I’d tried to help a guy being punished by a bully. Instead, I’d created fear in all the students.
“Your magic doesn’t work because you’re not trained.” Arbor sounded like my fairy godmother.
Huffing, I was tired of defending my ambitions. “I don’t want to be trained. I want to be human.”
“Why?” Her hurt tone dug into my chest. She pursed her lips looking mutinous. “Is there something wrong with being majik?”
I opened my mouth and slammed it shut. Arbor was a majik. She didn’t hear what the teachers taught or understand how Regent Theobald and Prince Zacharye really felt about fairytale creatures. I did. If I could get away with being human, why wouldn’t I try?
My dad was human. I wanted to be like him. Human, respected, allowed to live a life. I knew nothing about being a fairy and didn’t want to learn. Mom had died when I was a toddler and Dad had never told me about her family or her history.
Still, Arbor was my only friend in the world, and I didn’t want to hurt her. “Of course, there’s nothing wrong with being majik.”
My teachers taught majiks took advantage of humans with their powers. They’d trick you and cheat every chance they got. The homeland rules were so majiks couldn’t relocate out of their natural habitat and into the city. The laws controlled their movements and the immediate arrest of anyone using unsanctioned magic commenced.
The regent did this to make the kingdom a fairer realm. Not a fairytale realm.
My father believed fairness needed to be for all citizens. He loved my mother even though she was fairy, and still he kept it secret. He loved me. I agreed with my dad, except if I spoke out, they might realize I sympathized with majiks. Then, what would happen?
“No majiks are invited to this high and mighty ball.” Arbor used a snippy tone mimicking my stepmother. “I don’t understand why you think it’s so important to attend.”
So many reasons. “Because everyone is going.”
“I’m not going.”
“Everyone else.”
My stepsisters dressed in their bedrooms right now. The professional hair and make-up people were probably finishing up, and they’d be stepping into their three-dimensional clothing printers for their gowns.
Brand new gowns.
My stepmother had bought each of them a new dress printing pattern for their clothing printers. They’d gotten new shoes, too. Sybil had gotten a new dress printing pattern too, even though she was too old to dance with the prince.
With advanced technology like the clothing printers, humans didn’t need magic. No wonder majiks were mistreated and relegated to a lesser role. Technology was taking over our kingdom.
“Those girls from your school are going. The ones who made fun of you at the mall. Made fun of me.” Arbor’s smoke morphed dark red. She hadn’t liked Olivia and Jade.
I didn’t like them much either, but they ruled the school. If they’d known Arbor was my best friend, I never would’ve lived it down and I did not need more negative attention. Only a few months left, and I’d advance through Continuum and move to the relegated technical college. Jade and Olivia wouldn’t be there, and neither would my stepsisters because they’d go to university. The thought had become my mantra.
“I just need to go.” My voice quivered. This was important, and Arbor didn’t understand. Maybe because she didn’t know the human rules, the steps to adulthood, and acceptance. Or maybe because she was a smoke sprite she couldn’t understand. “Don’t forget I made a wager with Gardenia.”
Arbor flew higher with the dress. “Elongater spell. Try it.”
Even though she didn’t understand me, she supported me. That’s what friends did, human or majik.
Blowing out, I tried to get rid of my nerves. I wiggled each of my trembling fingers in a warmup exercise as if I knew what I was doing. A wand would be helpful. Except a fairy needed training before receiving a wand.
I could do this. I had to do this.
Flicking my wrist, I pointed at the old dress. I squinted and glared willing the material to grow longer, the waist to increase, and the entire design to become more modern. It’s what I wished for anyhow.
The hem dropped, uneven in places. I quirked my head. Maybe I could pin the longer sections. The waist grew and grew and grew. Too big for my measurements. The design didn’t change. I moaned. At least the dress hadn’t exploded.
“That was pretty good.” Arbor’s attempt at being upbeat failed.
“It’s ugly.”
“We might be able to fix the dress now that you can actually fit inside. Try it on.” Her wings fluttered as if getting excited my magic actually worked.
What if the dress shrunk while I was wearing it?
I took off my T-shirt and jeans and slipped on the dress. The material smelled musty. At least my mother’s emotions had faded. Standing in front of the mirror, I swirled the uneven dress back and forth. The longer sides of the lopsided hem dragged on the floor while the shorter points came to mid-calf. Surely, I’d trip. I wasn’t the most coordinated.
My blunt-cut bangs hung over my green eyes. The white-blond strands blended into brighter silver at the ends—a hint of my fairy blood. I trimmed the silver ends every other day. My pointy chin and large cheeks could be considered heart shaped. My pale skin caught my attention. The light shower of freckles seemed to dance, and my cheeks shimmered. “I look…I look…”
“You look like your mom.” Arbor’s awe made me dizzy.
I didn’t want to resemble my mom. “Mom was a fairy.”
Standing five feet three inches, according to Dad, I was tall compared to my mother. Same green eyes, and freckles. That’s where the resemblance always ended in the past. I’d never glowed before. I didn’t even realize my mom had glowed.
“Am I glowing because I did magic?” If so, why couldn’t the SCUM catch any fairy using their power
s?
“You really don’t know anything, do you? About your mother’s family?”
I knew glowing in the midst of the current government chaos would not be good.
“You’ve taken on your mother’s emotions from the dress.” The smoke sprite darted around my head in circles.
Blood drained from my brain, making me dizzier. I bent down and put my old boots back on trying to return to normal. At least the too-long dress would cover the only pair of shoes I owned.
“Your mom was beautiful.” Arbor plucked at my hair. “I remember when she visited Fae Forest.”
My body jittered with the information. I didn’t know my mom had visited her homeland after marrying. “You’ve met her?”
A noise caught my attention and I peeked out the window. “The transport pod is here. What am I going to do about this dress?”
“I’ll be right back.” Arbor buzzed out of the room and was back in seconds with a long, black ribbon streaming behind her. She whizzed around my waist and used the ribbon to tie a bow. “I can’t do anything about the length, but at least this will hold the dress up.”
“Look at my hair!”
“I can fix it.” She flew to the back of my head and yanked.
“Ouch!”
“Stand still.” Flying around, she tugged and pulled and twisted the strands.
I’d probably end up resembling a ball of string a cat had played with. Imagining the knots I’d have to detangle, I scowled. “Are you sure?”
“Ta da!” She flew in front of my face and held out her tiny hands.
Leaning back, I admired the hairdo. A thick braid pulled the strands back from my face and hid the silver tips. A few wispy strands snuck out adding a softness to the style.
“Wow! My hair looks great. I didn’t know you could style hair.”
“And no magic.” She brushed her hands together.
“Thank you, Arbor. You should’ve been my fairy godmother.”
“I’m better.” She stuck up her tiny hand and I used my pinky to slap it. “I’m your best friend.”
“Gotta go.” Unable to contain my giddy excitement, I rushed out of the room. I was going to win the bet with Gardenia and go to the ball.