It was her blue glow that was holding back Rachel’s fire spells and snuffing out the flames.
And next, it was her magic that bent up Rachel’s arms and, finger by finger, made them fist up, with Rachel gasping and looking back and forth between her hands and the horned witch.
It looked as if Rachel was fighting back, trying to open her hand, but couldn’t fight it. Rachel dropped to her knees, grimacing, gritting her teeth, shaking her fists, as it to free them of something. The horned witch waved a hand and, with that, a length of rose vine detached from the wall and snaked in the air to wrap around Rachel’s wrists. Rachel cursed, seething angry, only for the blooms to sparkle and glint in response, making Rachel close her mouth. But Rachel ripped the vines off and flung her arms out, hands free.
Remembering the Fae Queen’s words, I tried to make sense of this. The horned witch was fighting Rachel…
I still had the ring with me, so on a quick thought, I flew right to the witch and fluttered right in front of her. What was I holding? What magic did it harbor? Was the Fae Queen making a fatal mistake?
The horned witch saw the ring, opened her mouth, and reached out her hand to me, palm open.
So, I did what I’d promised, though I almost shook, as I flew closer. I dropped the ring on her palm. As soon I did that, the ring lit up with blue fire, connecting to her other blue magic.
Then I watched in awe, as her fire lit up even fiercer, as if she was getting energies from the ring. She took a step towards the magic wall sealing the window and pushed her hand through…and it went through.
Then she bowed down, dove through, and ended up in the flower field.
She ran straight to the fae ladies, giving no thought to Father and Rachel. All the women looked a lot alike, so much so that I got that the horned witch really had to be one more sister. She waved her hands this way and that, and the ropes and binds fell off, freeing everyone. They all stood up, laughing, sobbing, smiling, and muttering all at once, and threw off hanging-on bits of rope and all gathered around the horned witch, they reached out arms and shuffled together in a haphazard group hug, but the horned witch kept glancing over to Rachel or the castle or perhaps both.
And Rachel was already striding over, face distorted with rage.
She raised her arms, flames already circling her hands. But the horned witch did the same, unwavering. Rachel’s hands shot down fire, but the horned witch’s blue light countered it and snuffed the flames out one by one.
Some of their magic currents and flames licked the castle walls, and where they hit, the castle began melting. Stones fell off the wall. The wall structures were crumbling.
A force grabbed me.
It pulled me towards the castle as if a strong wave had caught me and begun dragging me out to the open sea. I flapped my wings with routined effort, by now, but it was no use. The pull was infinitely too strong. Next thing I knew, I was back in the glamorous white-and-gold hall…flying through it…and the force flung me on the bed. As always, it greeted me with a barrage of happy thoughts and lovely sleepiness, and after all that had happened, I couldn’t have fought it, if I’d tried, even though I knew it was all lies.
Part of me protested wildly, as there was too much going on that required my attention, but that part was too feeble. My mind blurred in flashes of chaos, and I fell under the haze. The soft stone enveloped my arms and wrapped my legs in softness that didn’t let me move.
Chapter 23
I was walking Windmane through the garden, where Mother tended to her herbs when the grass turned from green to grey, and my vision blurred, and I felt cold stone enveloping me like hard liquid.
Someone was calling me. No. They weren’t calling out my name, they were telling me to wake up.
Fingers moved gently over my throat and picked up something, pulling at it almost indiscernibly—I knew it was a thin gold chain, with a delicate gold plate laying at the nape of my neck, because it the necklace I always wore—and then I emerged from under green light, and a pleasantly warm young man’s voice said:
“Aurora?”
The springing lights blinded me, but the water was dissolving and flowing down in miniature waterfalls at the sides of the bed…the stone. I was half-sunken into a stone slab. But it felt soft like the most luxurious bed, and…
Squinting hard, I saw hazy forms. Somehow, I knew light hadn’t gotten in through my lashes for a long, long time. My real lashes. But it did now.
In a brash move, before I could think about it, I forced my eyes completely open, and a shockingly brilliant flash of white light poured all over me, until it took forms and settled in place…and became a beautiful ballroom type hall.
Confused, I stared at the young man kneeling beside me.
His elbow had been resting by my chin on the stone bed I lay on. as if he’d sat there a long time—and yes, my bed was coal-black stone.
It didn’t feel quite so soft, anymore, and I noted aches all over my body, as one indeed would expect from falling asleep on a stone slab.
Ah…I remembered. The witch. She had trapped me here.
And this was nothing short of the stone to sacrifice me on.
Gasping, I sat up and tried to calm myself.
The boy’s frown shadowed his dark jade-green eyes but didn’t hide his look of concern, care, and worry.
“Are you all right? Aurora…?”
He said my name as if he didn’t know me, and yet, by the look in his eyes, I could see the same perplexed recognition. I knew who he was, too. Or rather, in some way I knew and in some way I didn’t, because maybe it didn’t make any sense, but I’d had strange dreams, and…This was Julian. The bird.
“Your necklace said Aurora,” he said, seemingly embarrassed. “So I assumed…Is that your name? Are you all right? What is this place?”
He seemed worried and kept glancing over his shoulder. I followed his gaze. Someone had appeared the door, pausing to stand there a second, until he hurried back into the corridor again, out of sight.
Oh, my head ached. Things were coming back to me in snippets. I remembered. Fae Island. The ring that the Fae Queen had given me. What, I’d even given the ring to the witch…
I knew the witch had brought me here, but what was this place? We couldn’t be at our castle, but wherever we were, this had to be the royal castle of some mighty and wealthy kingdom. One of the too distant ones for my family to travel for greetings, perhaps? I’d been to the dance halls of Sarastria and all the other neighbouring kingdoms, and this did not look familiar. Sure, those castles could have had many dance halls I hadn’t been to, absolutely, but still, with this level of grandeur, I would have expected to know this place. Our courtiers would have gossiped. Everyone would have wanted to be invited to this kingdom’s festivities. Father could have conquered some unfortunate kingdom, of course—
“Listen, we might need to run…” the boy said, looking worried. Julian the bird. He had the same voice, and I’d always imagined him as a person, a friend…
I shook my head, but I was afraid to speak because somehow, I worried that speaking might make something real that wasn’t already—because who knew about magic—and maybe I didn’t want some things to be real. I was still trying to make up my mind about waking up on this slab of stone under piles and piles of roses. Recognizing Julian.
Noise from outside alerted us, booming through the walls and making the ground tremble— then the windows crashed in, shattering into thousands of shards.
“Heard that?” Julian said. “Can you run? Or is it okay, if I carry you?”
“What’s going on?…I can run.” I lifted my legs over the side of the stone bed and tried to stand up, but never mind that, my knees buckled. Desperate, I looked up at Julian.
“I’ll carry you, I’m sorry. Is that all right with you?” He was already kneeling and reaching out to pick me up.
“What, no…Where are we going?”
“Sorry, there’s no time to explain,” he said in a s
trained voice, as he picked me up and started carrying me toward the blue-veiled window…except there was no more blue veil, now. There was a torn door, a gaping, uneven entrance leading to the yard.
The gardens were a mess.
Blackened grass, trampled flowers, smoking spots with glowing embers. I gasped as I saw the people. On some level, I was also aware of the reason Julian was setting me partly down: so he could hold me upright with one arm but pull a sword with his free hand. He was going to fight this hedge witch.
But then I turned my head and saw the horned witch, standing at the other side of the yard, arms raised. She was framed by massive blue flames, which snaked all the way to Rachel and enveloped her. Against that blue fire, their silhouetted forms looked like moving smoke.
The other women were lying down now…I spared a second to watch them, holding my breath, and could see them breathing—yes, they were breathing, and they seemed all right.
My father hardly acknowledged me, as he stepped from behind Rachel and pulled out his sword, as well. He raised the sword with two hands, lifting it above his head. Then he charged at Julian.
With a short sigh-like breath, Julian set me down entirely and slipped away from me, and before I could react, he had already met my father half-way, stopping my father’s sword with his own, sparks flying. The sounds of metal clanking mixed with Rachel’s yell. Rachel had obviously directed some of her magic to where the swords met — I knew by the smoke-like effect.
Maybe the magic did something, because my father was able to yank Julian’s sword from his hands. He tossed the sword across the yard. It swooshed right by me, and I was lucky it didn’t cut me. It landed a few yards away, behind me, sticking out of the scorched ground.
Without thinking, I rushed to grab it with two hands to pull it out. It was not like I didn’t know how to handle these things? My father had no idea. The sword resisted, but I got it, and then I swirled around.
Julian was on his knees, holding his side. What had happened? I prayed that my father hadn’t had the chance to hurt him in this short window of time.
And then I prayed my father forgave me, and everyone involved, and anything and everything that I needed to ask forgiveness from…because then I charged.
Things happened in slow motion. Father’s sword tilted, turned away, as my steel stung. Rachel was there. Blue fire enveloped me and lifted me.
My blade sunk into Rachel’s midriff.
She screamed and curled her fingers, and the magic that flung out from between her claws sprung out and bounced in frightening bolts all over, on me, at my feet, everywhere. She sunk down, and I couldn’t look anymore, so I turned to Julian, who was making his way towards another sword on the ground…My father’s. My father’s sword had flung off his hands, as well.
Father reached for it, but Julian was first. Then Julian stood up…the blade already on my father’s throat.
Julian’s face was determined, my father’s expression nothing but unmoving steel.
“Stay still, King John of Tairaland. It’s time to give up. You’ve committed your share of sins, a wolf’s share, to be frank, and it’s high time to start acting human. Succumb, say you’ll forfeit, and you’ll keep your life.”
Covering my eyes with my other hand, I took a look at Rachel. Her magic was flowing around the blade that had pierced her. Clearly, it was shielding her. But she could hardly move, she looked too weak. I pulled the sword out, and Rachel slumped down on the ground, muttering incantations. The wound began to heal, and I watched it in horror. But she was in no condition to fight.
Neither was my father, shaking uncontrollably, offering his hands up for Julian to tie up. Some part of me felt sorry for him, as always. It was as if he didn’t know any better. But he deserved to be stopped, already.
Chapter 24
“You’re not hurt or anything?” Julian said, looking concerned.
He hurried to get his water flask off his belt and offered it to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to take it with my shaking hands — I couldn’t even move right now, from the shock, I just wanted to sit — so he set the flask beside me in the scorched grass.
The castle was a smoking heap of stone and gravel. We were the only ones left in the yard. With her grown powers, the horned witch had done some strange things, and the tang of magic still lingered. She’d moulded a carriage out of smoke. She’d harnessed winds to pull it.
The fae sisters had been relieved to step in, but Rachel and my father horrified…
They’d all left, but Julian’s friends were waiting close-by with horses. I hadn’t known, but that’s how Julian had arrived, riding with his friends. I’d asked to have a moment to catch my breath.
“You know, the Castle of Sarastland isn’t far. I could take you to my family’s castle for a moment, and we can try to sort things out,” Julian said. “I’m sure things will sort out.”
With a jolt of acknowledgement, I realised he had to be Prince Julian of Sarastland, in the real world. That would be: in the real world of sane people, and not of those who thought their best friend was a bird. How didn’t I make the connection? I’d met Julian occasionally through the years, at royal weddings, funerals, christenings, dance balls, most often when we were children; irregularly when we were teenagers.
Noticing how I was staring, I averted my eyes again and felt myself blushing. Then I shook off the stupor of sleepiness and the rest of the spellbind webs and pushed myself up on my elbows.
“I’m fine. I think it’ll be all right to just go home. My Mother has been in charge for years already, in practice. What will change if Father is finally brought to justice? Nothing for the worse, only for the better.”
“Your father…? Now I’m confused…”
“King John. My father. King John of Tairaland.” He already knew my name was Aurora, what was the matter, was it taking him long to make the connection as well? Were we both so dumbstruck with magic? I gave a small laugh, mostly from feeling so relieved. I could still feel myself shaking, after all that had happened in this yard only moments ago. Needless to say, Rachel was just fine, now. Not only had she kept healing with her own magic, but the horned witch — Amalia — had patched everybody up with a few whispered utterings, hardly even looking at anyone, so preoccupied with the smoke carriage right then. She was going to take them to the castle and have a take with my mother, as well as the Fae Queen.
“Wait,” Julian said. “So…There’s no princess in Tairaland. There was a princess, but…It was tragic, everyone talked about it, but I know for sure some bad things happened. She was killed, when she was eighteen. The king and queen of Tairaland didn’t have any other children. It’s been about a year already…Also, I met her several times, though only at official events, that is, only when people from the neighbouring kingdoms were invited. Tairaland and Sarastland didn’t have the best relations, you see, years back…But like I said, I’ve even met her, and I know for sure what happened to her. You shouldn’t joke about serious matters. It was the worst thing that could ever happen, getting murdered by a witch. You wouldn’t want it to happen to your worst enemies.”
“If you say you knew her or had met her, don’t you remember what she looked like?”
“Well, I last saw her when we were just kids, something like twelve, I guess, so it’s been a while, but she was…Well, I don’t know, feisty and calm, and she kind of stood with her back real straight and had an intelligent air about her, and she was kind of skinny, but she had a wild smile, and she had long hair that she pinned away in dozens and dozens of crazy, knotted braids—”
“Just some regular updo, I’m sure,” I muttered.
As children, Julian and I played together whenever we saw each other, because, at first, the nannies and maids encouraged it. Perhaps they wanted their hands free; perhaps our mothers wanted us to be friends. Perhaps, come to think of it, our mothers wanted us to rule as friends, once we grew up…Anyway, soon after, they tried to separate us, because we were think
ing up too many games that would have wrecked the castle. And I wouldn’t deny it.
It had been fun, spending time with the two-years-older, reckless Julian, running in the wine cellars imagining there were ghosts and suchlike. And yes, we’d gotten along marvellously, whenever we’d seen each other.
At first glance, I wouldn’t have recognized this handsome young man with this royal air as the funny, wild-spirited boy I remembered, but now that I thought about it, he did have the same eyes and that same grin. Watching Julian, I wished he’d remember what I did. Our flying. The whole adventure. Deep down, I was waiting for him to say it.
“She looked a lot like you, actually,” Julian said hesitantly.
“Of course she did, because I am her, you silly. It’s me. I am the princess. Aurora! Of Tairaland.” I spread my hands.
“You don’t look that much like her…”
“Because it’s been, how long? How long has it been? When did I…um, vanish?”
“Like I said, I only knew her when we were kids, but I think she disappeared about a year ago, something like that. A witch had broken in and many believe she was murdered—”
“So it’s really been a whole year?” I pressed my palms over my face, trying to gather my thoughts. A year? I daren’t think about how much must have happened while I was away.
“But still…Okay, okay, maybe I can see it,” Julian said as if only to be agreeable.
I gave Julian a glance from one squinted eye, and to me, he still seemed reluctant to believe any of this. I wanted a mirror. Maybe the curse had done something to how I looked?
Pushing myself to sit up better, I glanced down at myself, and my hair was still the same, and I was wearing one of my actual dresses, my birthday party dress, in fact, which was in tatters…Oh, and my feet were regular human feet, too, just to mention.
For what else I could see, everything looked as always. Well, the dress was a little tight at the chest, there was that. I briefly swept my fingers over my brows and nose in a futile attempt to figure out if I’d changed. There was still that concerned look to Julian.
Kingdom of Crowns and Glory Page 53