Table of Contents

Title Page

Betrayed by Beauty

Dedication

Prologue

1: Freedom

2: Regrets

3: Home

4: The Usurper

5: Restoration

6: Blessed

7: Revelation

8: The Stranger

9: Dark Sister

10: Sanctuary

11: The Ruins

12: Infiltrated

13: The Gift

14: The Kiss

15: Captivated

16: Power

17: The Ball

18: Charmed

19: The Task

20: Sisters

21: The Huntress

22: The Guides

23: Magical Treasures

24: The Lie

25: The Beauty, the Vixen, and th Huntress

26: Trees

27: The Escape

28: For Love

29: Triumph

30: Hope

31: The Coven

32: Death of the Princess

33: Destiny

34: To the Last Breath

35: The Rays of Revenge

36: The Phoenix Rises

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Copyright © 2021 Henderson Smith

Cover and Interior Design by Mikey Brooks

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author.

eBook Edition

Dedication

This is a story about sisters. Sisters by blood, as well as those sisters we choose to add to our family through our life experiences: bonds forged by love and friendship and other magic. This book is dedicated to all of those sisters, but especially to my dear sister, Robin, who has held my hand for as long as I can remember. From voting for my Easter Bonnet (the ugliest in my second-grade class) to thoughtfully listening to all the ideas for my stories and adding her insightful advice, she has always looked out for me. Please look out for yours. A sister is a gift from God, hold them close, take care of them and never let them fall away from you.

I stared into the chipped hazy mirror and wondered if I was enough. A sigh escaped my lips as I pondered my future. Would today be the day when Johan would finally ask me to marry him? I was sixteen. Most of my friends were already married, some with children, and my status as a maid was too often the main topic at my parents’ dinner table. Not that they could provide me with much of a dowry; he would be lucky to get a goat or two. But Johan had told me he thought I was beautiful, and I would place my faith in that.

I pushed my heavy chestnut locks away from my face—soft lips, blue eyes, a good figure. I had my best dress on, made of light blue wool, which accentuated the blue of my eyes and the fullness of my bosom. It would have to do. I would be the only guarantor of my fate. I may not have money, but I did have beauty, and that would be my steadfast companion. I gathered my nerve and left for the market.

For the past five weeks, we had made time to meet during the weekly market. Johan’s father was a pig farmer, and Johan would certainly stay in the family business, much to the offense of my nose, but compromises must be made as there were few single men in our village.

Such was my life—my boring little life! How I yearned for adventure, like the tales of old when a king would rescue a beautiful maid like me and carry her off to his castle as his queen. How the villagers would remember me then, I would be legend! I let out a sigh of disappointment, knowing the best destiny I could concoct for myself was a life as a pig farmer’s wife. How very sad.

I moved to the grove of oak trees at the end of the dirt road that marked the edge of our village and where the merchants assembled. For a few moments, I hid behind one of those massive trees as I scanned the crowd for Johan. Though the skies were a clear azure blue, it was still cold, and I clutched my shawl tighter around my body, trying not to shiver.

The usual gathering of our town’s people: even if you had nothing to sell or the money to buy, it was the weekly opportunity to gather tidbits of information for what had changed in the world. My parents were in the midst of it at a small table selling their goat cheese, the only source of our family income.

Two old busybodies stood not ten feet away as I scanned the crowd for Johan, still hidden behind the tree. Somehow, one of them must have seen me because she turned to her companion and stated too loudly, “It was time for Johan to be married,” her jowls trembling with pleasure as she spoke. “And Uda will be such a good wife to him.” I could see the self-satisfied smirk on the old bat’s face, a woman I despised, and she damn well knew it.

My knees felt weak, and I moved further behind the tree to hide from the old bag’s triumphant eyes. Uda! She was short and stubby with the kind of face you forgot as soon as you turned away. Uda? No, it could not be true. I breathed deeply, attempting to gather my wits. Could it be true? I watched as the old bats moved closer to the crowd of vendors. Where was Johan?

Next to his father’s stall, I saw her—standing next to Johan and smiling up at him as if she were the happiest girl in the world. Then I felt his eyes on me, so I ducked behind the tree. I moved ever so slightly to see what he was doing, walking in my direction, clutching Uda’s hand in his!

I ran. I had to get away. I couldn’t stand it. Not her. Not that bland-faced Uda! Through the forest I flew, shoving branches away from my face, keeping my feet beneath me so I wouldn’t trip, running until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand, and collapsed next to the lake. I looked into its glass-smooth surface, my beautiful face reflected perfectly in its waters, the tears trailing from my lovely blue eyes then dropping into the lake like small explosions of misery as they burst unto the water. I felt like I could cry an ocean of tears. My life was over… I had no hope.

“Poor child,” an ancient voice croaked.

I pulled myself up. There before me stood an ugly old crone, her eyes looked knowingly at me as if she had heard my thoughts. How had she appeared so suddenly?

She drew closer, placing her gnarled hand against my cheek. After a few moments she hissed, “You are right, my dear. You have no hope.”

Cassandra Dragon Slayer

I loved killing humans. Specifically, I treasured that exact moment when they realized that they were about to die. It almost seemed to come at them as a surprise, as if they were too brainless to even realize their life had been in peril. And as they died, how I relished their fear, their pain, their misery, and fed off it like a pauper at a banquet.

Even though she was a bit long in the tooth, the blue-eyed girl had been very tasty. The sadness and fear that filled her soul had bound together nicely to make her heart quite delicious. And that moment when she finally realized she was going to die… was delightful. I let out a snicker of satisfaction. Hadn’t she declared her life over? Such a silly girl crying over her lost future—a future as a pig farmer’s wife! At least I gave her a finish she could be proud of, that her village would speak of for months, and then she would become legend. I gave her exactly what she wanted.

You might think me rather heartless, and you would be correct. I do not have a heart because I am a witch. There is so much you would not know about us because we have dwindled in numbers and kept our methods, our magic, and the source of our power to ourselves. But I will reveal it all to you, as I want you to fully understand what I will unleash upon this world.

This mission had given me my freedom from a cold, disgusting prison cell, and its primary purpose was vengeance. How could that not call to me? I was to capture a stupid little princess who thought herself the last of the Winnowwood. Why did I think she was stupid? Because she had only managed to use a glimpse of her power to destroy the invasion fleet that had been sent by my benefactor, King Viratrex of the Druzazzi. It was only a glimpse. If she’d had any idea of the power she truly possessed, the Druzazzi invasion would never have gone as far as it did. I was relieved she was stupid. If she’d had full use of her powers, even I, Cassandra Dragon Slayer, the most potent witch in the Borealis kingdoms, might have been wary, might have hesitated to go to war with one so powerful. But if one does not know how powerful they are, an enemy can destroy you before you even realize you are under attack.

I’ve never had that problem; I have always known how powerful I am. In truth (and I shall always attempt to tell you the truth, though it goes utterly against my nature), it is that arrogance that sentenced me to that cold, miserable cell. I was vainglorious and proud, fooled by men who were far more clever than I gave them credit for, and I paid a dear price for that arrogance.

Over a hundred years passed as I lay rotting in that disgusting dungeon, yet I managed to regain my freedom at last. Yes, I was forced to bind myself to King Viratrex, or he would never have allowed his sorcerer to remove the powerful spells he had invoked to hold me in that forsaken place. But I had a path to freedom at last and I would not waste it.

The icy wind blasted at me with ferocity as my bone slashed through the frigid air, filling me with utter satisfaction. Witches don’t fly on brooms, that’s just a pathetic old wives’ tale. We fly on bones—our bones—and their formal name is Exosso. Usually, we just call them our bone. When we are created, one of our rib bones is removed and put into a cauldron with the blood of an animal whose traits we admired for the rite. My bone had never failed me—and I trusted her completely in delivering on her part of the mission that lay before us.

There are other “things” that are removed during the ceremony to create our wand—the center of our soul and power—and defines us as a witch. One was currently wrapped around my left wrist. Her name was Dreambreaker and she knew my black soul as well as I know myself. I’ll save the story of how she was created for a time when I can describe it to you in action, so you will truly understand what you must sacrifice to become a witch. But it is all worth it. Trust me.

My bone trembled with power, feeling my own exuberance. She too had not flown in all these years, and it had hurt her to her core. Her power now rippled through my body as I felt her subtly adjusting our position in the air, bolting like a prisoner from a cage, which we were.

I have many secrets to share with you about what I would truly gain from killing the princess, things that set my soul afire, but I’ll save that story for later. First, I need to find her.

Would you like to help me? Perhaps you’d like to join my coven? We’ll see.

Olive

I was miserable. I didn’t know what hurt more: my head, as it continued to deal with the memories that had been gifted to me from my dead Winnowwood sisters, or my soul which was being crushed under the deep, penetrating gaze of anyone who looked upon me, especially men.

I had always despised the men who had looked at my mother and sister like that, as if they were eyeing a luscious meal they wanted to devour. And now their hungry eyes were directed at me. It felt like I’d put a spell on them, but trust me, if I had any power over humans, I wouldn’t waste it on this type of enchantment.

After years of sneering looks, insults and mocking comments when I was homely (to put it kindly), it was hard to look at the same people who had given them, spoken them, yet now beheld me with such keen interest and admiration. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of how I looked, I knew it was meant to be a blessing—the fulfillment of the Legend and all of that—but it’s just not something I would have picked for myself because outer beauty is something I have never placed value on.

Nothing had changed in my soul, in who I was. Why did this outer guise matter so damn much? Truly, I was so very unhappy with this instant adulation by all who beheld me. They knew nothing of me, but they now adored this new physical shell in which I was trapped. I debated staying in bed, so I didn’t have to face it all again today.

It had only been three days, yet in that short time my world had been in a state of utter upheaval, I felt like I had lost myself completely. I remembered how I had felt during the transformation, when my Winnowwood sisters had touched their cruxes to mine. They had endowed me with their gifts of memories, of spells and enchantments, history, legends…it had been so fantastical, and it had not hurt. It had felt like coming home into the loving embrace of all of them.

But the following day, my head had begun to ache. The more I tried to learn, categorize, and consider all they had given me, the more it made my head throb. Try as I might to see and learn the memory, it continued to escape me, and I was left with only pain and the whispers of images of immense power that I did not understand. The pain wasn’t incapacitating, it was more like the memories were trying to find their way into my head and were reorganizing my brain—it felt like I was losing my mind now that I had all these memories that weren’t really my own. I hoped it would end soon and my head would feel like my own again.

Three days ago, I thought I was in love with a notorious highwayman, Black Bart, and I was willing to run off and marry him and turn my back on my family. When Bart revealed that he, in fact, was the Prince of Alganoun, I nearly fell over in shock. I could feel the smile form on my lips as I thought of him. He had declared his love for me and asked me to marry him when I was a hideous wretch, covered in over a hundred warts, bumps and blemishes in varying degrees of color and breadth.

Yet he still saw me, the soul that is me, and that is what brought forth the enchantment—the legend that if a man could see her true beauty, a Winnowwood would keep her powers and become beautiful. He had asked me to marry him when I was ugly and had lost my powers, but I got my powers back because of his love. It truly had been a miracle and I would never doubt his love, not when he gave it freely under those circumstances. He was true and kind, smart and funny and… wonderful.

I let out a sigh of contentment until I remembered the servants would be there shortly to wake me. Another day of being paraded about the Alganoun Court in frilly expensive gowns, enduring multitudes of introductions I would never remember. Mother had told me last night that I was to begin attending the classes for the ladies of the court today. My head hurt worse just thinking about it. I threw the covers over my head and wiggled down deep beneath the blankets.

Darkness surrounds me, vibrating, shifting, ruffling in deep shadows. I know they see me; I can feel their angry stares. “It is I, Princess Olive,” I say, but am met only with, “Caw! Caw! Caw!” They fly at me—three huge black ravens as dark as the night with their claws outstretched, hurtling towards my face. Their talons scrape viciously in long, mean strokes as blood runs hot down my face. I can’t move. I can’t move.

I startled awake to find myself in darkness, trapped under the blankets. I desperately threw back the covers and sucked in the cool, early-morning air. My hands clasped frantically to my face. Of course, there was no blood—but it had felt so real.

I had to get out of here. I leaped out of bed, ran to my window, climbed up onto the sill, and threw the shutters open. The ground lay far below me. I jumped.

Cassandra

The island that sheltered my enemy was now below me, its star-shaped land mass extending far and wide – The Borealis Kingdoms. No matter. Ahead, hidden in the chain of imposing, granite mountains that isolated the southern end of the island, was my fortress. My bone knew the way; I could feel the anticipation in my soul grow as we drew closer to the lair that I had lived in for the first four hundred years of my witch life. Most of those years I was alone—or rather, I was the only witch.

In the frigid pre-dawn light, I flew low into the valley between the highest peaks of the mountains—a desolate, isolated area where no animals dare approach. My lands were protected by spells and charms, put into place long ago to withstand the passage of time. No Winnowwood spies would be allowed here and, undoubtedly, the stupid girl had no idea this place even existed. My base of operations would be hidden from her and I would launch my plan for her destruction before she could form an effective defense.

Directly in front of me was the passage into the heart of the mountain. To anyone else it would look like a wall of solid granite but hidden in the shadows, under a cleft where the rock had been cleaved, was the dark entryway into the keep. We flew into that darkness with the confidence my bone possessed from long-held memories. Onward, into the void. The air was stale, but not putrid. That only confirmed that the enchantments had not changed. Finally, the rock walls of the narrow passage fell away, and we flew into the vast Cavern of the Witches.

My bone hovered in the air; Dreambreaker leaped into my hand, anticipating my need. “Luminarium!” I cried out. At once, a multitude of torches along the cavern walls ignited, as well as hundreds of candles held in bejeweled candelabras hanging throughout the hall. The immense cavern was now awash in golden light revealing the richness of the Great Hall of the Witches: walls of blood red marble trimmed in silver with a floor of honed black granite shimmering with embedded flecks of diamonds and silver. Diamonds in our floors, that is how rich we were, how rich I now am. I gazed over at the sixteen outsized, intricate mosaics made from precious gemstones sparkling on the walls, depicting each of my sister witches, set off between heavy, rich curtains of exotic silver and the deepest black. Oh, my precious sisters, the revenge I will wreck on your behalf. I let out a deep sigh of contentment. Everything was clean and free of dust as if I had left yesterday. My magic always worked.

The Hoard of the Witches, our priceless treasure trove of gems, gold and magical bits, was well hidden in the lower bowels of the cavern. I would seek it out later, as I could no longer wait now that I could see it again at last. There it was—my beloved.

At the end of the room, on a raised platform of pure silver, sat my throne. I flew to it and stood, my bone wrapping tightly around my left leg. The anticipation was staggering as I approached—it was the most marvelous thing I had ever seen, and I had missed it like one of my limbs. Its frame was made of a rich, black ebony inlaid with sparkling rubies the size of my thumb, with intricate carvings embedded in the wood of runes and magical symbols that protected the owner.

I moved closer and placed my hand against the black padded seat. It was created from the silken hairs of the little girls we had slain and woven into an intricate, magical design. The power from that chair pulsed into my fingertips, it licked my skin with its evil malevolence. I let out a shriek of unbounded glee, sat down and let the power flow through me.

A thrumming began, deep inside of me. I could feel my spleen pulsate and quiver, its viciousness pouring forth into my blood. Oh, it felt so good, so fantastic. I opened my soul to it and felt the power in my blood expand. I closed my eyes and nefarious images of death passed before them, filling me with a deep contentment I had not known in over a century. My breathing relaxed as I contemplated my presence in this magical cavern that I had helped cleave from the rock. My sanctuary. My refuge and haven. The base from which I would rain destruction and terror down on these lands until they were brought to heel. I shuddered with pleasure. If only I were not alone.

I missed my sixteen sisters. They had been slaughtered, leaving me alone, some four hundred years ago. The blood sang in my veins… and it screamed for vengeance! I swore to them I would get the retribution they sought—against the stupid girl and the line Ursula had begun. Their lines would cease to exist. It was time. Time to make a new coven, then make a new world of darkness and dread. Now, it was time to begin.

“Existo Dormitatio!” I shouted, as I waved Dreambreaker sharply around the cavern in a circle, then waited. Breathing in deeply, counting the moments until I would hear their steps… there it was—the soft sound of gentle footfalls. They came.

My army of children. My Cornu Inhumanus: The Army of the Unfeeling, frozen in time. I had selected sixty-six of the cleverest girls I had encountered for my army, and they had waited for my return. Of course, I had not planned for my return to be delayed by a hundred years… all of that lost time. Good thing I had placed such a strong suspension spell on them, so they had not rotted; that would have been a disgusting mess to face. I let out a long sigh thinking of those lost years that had delayed my plans, but it had still been worth it. All the spells and charms I had learned from the Forbidden Continent were priceless, even if it had cost me my most valuable possession—my time.

As they formed into ranks and files in front of me, my eyes searched for only one. Where was she? Then I spotted her: Francesca’s chocolate-brown ringlets bounced in the candlelight as she approached the throne, kneeling in front of me with her head bowed. She had been eleven-years-old when I had taken her; she still looked like that same child, but hundreds of years had since passed. She had proven her loyalty time and time again and was the best Catcher I possessed. And why not, with that sweet innocent expression, the big, sea-blue eyes, the darling little dimples in each cheek. I should have made her a witch. Too late now.

“Francesca,” I purred.

She looked up, her blue eyes shimmering like twin stars in the night. “I am here to serve, my witch.”

“I am hungry and in need of rejuvenation, as you can see.”

“May I have my wagons, my witch?” she softly asked.

Off to the side, behind a curtain, were the clever wagons I had constructed. I tapped Dreambreaker in their direction and two wagons flew quickly to Francesca’s side—they were brightly colored, to make them so very appealing to children, and charmed with magic.

“Would you like me to go now, my witch?” she inquired.

“Yes, and hurry. We have much to discuss, but first, I need sustenance.” I looked deeply into her eyes to convey the importance of my order. I could see she felt it. She always was so good at feeling what I wanted her to do. “Remember to hunt in the south, over the mountains.”

She nodded. “I shall make all haste, my witch.” With that, she gestured at three other girls to join her. They jumped into the wagons, two in each, then flew off into the darkness of the cavern.

My mouth began to water as I thought about eating. Yes, I could eat human food easily enough, and had survived on it while I had been imprisoned, but it had not maintained my physical appearance. I now looked like a wretched old crone—like a witch! And that would never do.

I needed to look young, nubile, beautiful, if my plan were to work. And it would work. For I preyed on human desires—the desire for power, for riches, for beauty, for love, for vengeance, for lust, for adoration. I knew it would work because it always worked. And you, human, you know it will work as well because you know the secrets of your own heart.

Olive

I flew like an arrow, straight up into the sky, then plummeted down like a rock, until I opened my wings and the air pushed me upward again. I felt whole again, I felt like me. I breathed in the air of the dawn and shuddered with relief, no more pain. My head felt like my own.

I had never had animals attack me in my dreams—ever. They had always been my friends and allies in my life as well as in my dreams. What could it mean? It was terrifying, but more than that, it made me feel uneasy, like something was changing. Of course, my life was changing—dramatically, I knew that, but this felt like something else, something more. Maybe I was wrong, maybe it was the Winnowwood memories that had my head so fouled up, but that little voice in my head that loved to torment me was saying, Be careful. I scanned the sky, my eagle eyes searching for any warning, but could see nothing amiss. I dipped my wing and headed towards the glen.

As the rays of the sun broke over the horizon, I arrived. So many of my friends were here, seeking their breakfasts, nibbling on the last vestiges of summer grass, drinking from the lake. It seemed so long since I had been here, but only four days had passed—a lifetime, it truly was a lifetime ago. I let out a “shreeeee” of happiness to announce my arrival and descended. Bear ran out into the meadow, his eyes pinned on me.

I raised my wings over my head. “Winnowwood Aquila Eximo Anhelo,” I said, then was a bit taken aback when I remembered I was still in my nightgown, and it was cold. I ran to the shed where I kept blankets with Bear on my heels.

“You must have left in a hurry,” Bear asked anxiously. “What happened?”

I wrapped myself in the blanket, fighting off the shivering feeling my nightmare had left me with. Other animals were gathering, flocking around me. “No worries, everyone. I only came to visit because I missed you. Please, go on with your activities.” I glanced back to Bear and whispered, “We need to talk.”

“It was black and frightening and felt so evil,” I said to Bear as I finished the telling of my nightmare. “Never has an animal been my enemy, even in my dreams.” I looked over to him, placed my hand on his face and stroked it. “I need your counsel, old friend. What could it possibly mean?”

“In this nightmare, could you tell where you were?” he asked.

I shook my head. “It felt like I was in a dark pit with only a hint of light. But the worst part was, I couldn’t move. It was as if I had a spell on me. I was completely frozen: no matter how I tried, I couldn’t move.” I let out a long calming breath. “It was terrifying, Bear. I know it doesn’t sound that frightening, but… it was so awful.” An involuntary shudder passed down my spine and I drew the blanket tighter about me.

Bear looked away for a few moments at the other animals in the distance. “The memories you were given, can you find anything in them that might help you?”

I let out a long sigh of frustration. “Right now, they’re more of a curse than a blessing. I can’t seem to… access them and they’re making my head hurt. Like they are re-organizing my brain.” I looked at him and let him see the fear I felt. “I hope it stops soon and I feel like myself again because it’s really scaring me. Like I won’t be me when it’s all said and done.”

He nodded at me. “It must be frightening.” He moved close to me and put his giant paw gently on my shoulder. “You are strong enough to get through this. I do know that.” He paused, and I could see he was contemplating something. “Tonight is a full moon,” he said. “There is always power in the moon for a Winnowwood. Return here this evening. You will sleep beneath the moon under our protection and see if it will give you any answers.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment, it felt like my head hiccupped slightly, and I let out another long breath to calm me. “When my sisters touched me, I could feel them, remember them, but in the last couple of days, it’s like they’ve become clouded and muddled and I can barely think at all.” I looked at him, my voice slightly shaking as I said, “Do you think I’m losing my mind?”

Bear shook his head. “Never,” he said. “It is meant to be a blessing; it will not harm you. I do believe that, and you must believe it too. Do not let this lead to doubting yourself. There is poison in self-doubt.”

I nodded. “I do believe in myself,” I said, and I meant it.

Bear glanced up at the sun, now higher in the sky. “They will worry about you. Best you return as quickly as possible,” he advised.

“I don’t know what’s worse, the muddling of my head or my required attendance at classes for the ladies of the court,” I said sarcastically.

Bear’s face looked reflective for a moment. “Why don’t you wear your High Priestess robe this evening?”

“Why?” I had never worn the robe, though by rights it was now mine since I had turned eighteen last week—the age where my line of daughters would be assured to be born as Winnowwoods. My mother had worn the gown when she blessed me in the simple ceremony that formalized my position as High Priestess of the Bestiallas. It truly seemed a lifetime ago.

“It may give you additional power in your search for the answer,” he stated firmly.

I nodded. “Certainly couldn’t hurt.”

My sister had found her home. I watched as she conversed easily with the other ladies of the court, as if they were her long-lost friends, yet she had only known them for three days at most. Me, I couldn’t even keep their names straight, nor did I really care to try. And they hadn’t been so eager to make my acquaintance either, although they certainly stared at me enough when they thought I wasn’t looking. After a lifetime of stares, I could feel eyes on me like an unwanted spirit trying to suck out my soul. I pretended not to notice, but I did.

But I couldn’t blame it all on them, I knew I was a curiosity. Oh, look—it’s the most beautiful woman in the world! I’m sure that stuck in their craws. They couldn’t know that I was still shocked every time I passed a mirror—the reflected image that looked back at me was a complete stranger, and I wasn’t happy about it either. Besides that, they all seemed rather nervous around me. I think they were worried that I might turn them into an animal since they didn’t understand I couldn’t. They didn’t understand me, and I didn’t understand them—the perfect combination for trouble.

A diminutive man stepped up to the lectern. He had a low voice and soft shape from a lifetime of disuse of his physical body, but his eyes gleamed with an innate cleverness. His name was Master Berthou and he had been kind enough to introduce himself to Roseline and me when we entered. He did not go into a long history by any means, but he had informed us that he was originally from the Terraboden, the immense continent to our southwest. I had never met anyone who had lived there, and I was eager to learn more about him.

A dozen of us sat in various well-appointed chairs throughout the luxurious sitting area, which was like every room in Alganoun Castle—opulent and screaming of wealth. I knew I would have formal responsibilities in this court as Bart’s wife, so I supposed learning the names of these ladies should be at the top of my list since I would be interacting with them on a daily basis. I glanced around the room and tried to recall their names but failed miserably. The thought of having responsibilities as a man’s wife also threw me off balance as I reflected on exactly what my duties would be, much less the very idea of being a wife. I didn’t want to be seen as chattel, I was no one’s property. But I also knew the laws of the land. I took a deep breath to calm myself and focused on Master Berthou.

All the ladies faced him. All except one—Princess Zahra, who sat by the window looking down at the open book in her lap ignoring the Master. She was Bart’s older sister by two years and had a spiteful disposition that made those around her feel like they were less. I had watched her in action as her tongue sliced a vicious path through two ladies on the way to her chair—the largest and most prominent chair in the room. The words “piggy” and “brainless” had hissed through the air to my ears. Both the women’s faces had turned beet red in embarrassment from the interaction.

Physically, Zahra was what one politely called “a handsome woman.” Though she was not beautiful, she possessed rather noble features and held herself regally, though I doubt she stood five feet tall. Her shining black hair was pulled back harshly from her face and hung low down her back, and her deep, brown eyes were aloof and off-putting. Warmth was not a word one would use in their description of Zahra. I didn’t care what she looked like, I cared about what her actions said about her and, so far, I was unimpressed. Still, there was something interesting there, something rather powerful.

I wanted to ask her why she was so angry and hard all the time because in the two brief times I had met her, she seemed like she was in a foul mood and aching for a fight. It seemed odd that she was Bart’s sister because I knew him as a man of the kindest and most thoughtful nature. What a difference between siblings, but then, look at me and Roseline.

Zahra didn’t even look up as Master Berthou lectured. I had to admit that his voice was a bit monotonous, but I still found the subject matter interesting. He pointed at the map on the wall and explained, “Our island is the home of the three kingdoms of the Borealis Island: Alganoun, Rosemount and Cisalpenia, located approximately fifty leagues southeast of the Borealis continent.”

“When was the Law for Succession approved for the Kingdom of Alganoun?” Zahra’s fine, sharp voice interrupted. I looked over to her—a cool fire burned beneath those eyes as she awaited Master Berthou’s response.

Though he tried to contain it, I could see the frustration on his face. “I believe you know the answer to that, Princess Zahra,” he calmly stated. “As you have asked the same question countless times before.”

“Yes, but our new attendees may not be aware of the backward laws of the Kingdom of Alganoun. It might be interesting information for them to know since they may be joining the family.” Her eyes glanced over at Roseline, then settled on me with a mocking smile on her lips.

Master Berthou stared aloofly at Zahra, then calmly stated, “I believe the Kingdom of Rosemount, as well as the Kingdom of Cisalpenia, follows the same precedent. The first-born male is the heir to the throne, the second-born male is next in line, and thus it continues down the male line. If there are no male heirs, then the eldest female is the heir. You are well aware of this, Princess.”

“Yes, but perhaps the law should be changed and perhaps my new friends would agree with me?” She smiled meanly at him, then looked to Roseline.

Roseline was immediately flustered; she hated being put on the spot. She glanced nervously over to me.

“I think it would be wise for me to learn more of the kingdom before determining if the laws should be changed,” I said as I stared back at Zahra. Did she really think I would agree with her taking Bart’s throne from him? She was behaving outrageously for a courtier, much less a princess.

Zahra gave me the beginning of a sneer that turned into a charming smile and said, “I’m sure you’re quite happy with the law since you are the eldest sister with no brothers.” She met my gaze boldly and continued, “Or perhaps you’re simply afraid to state your opinion? Is that what they teach you in the Kingdom of Rosemount, to be completely subservient? Will both kingdoms just be given to my little brother to rule with not a single word of protest?” She gave me an odd look, as if she knew more than she was saying.

Roseline’s and my formal education was sorely lacking, so perhaps some of my growing unease was due to the concern of being found out that I was no scholar. Our lessons had been limited, at Father’s direction, to reading, writing, a bit of arithmetic, but nothing advanced, and only a smattering of the history of our kingdom with little ever mentioned of any other country’s interests or anything about politics. Somehow, I knew Zahra would find me out. I thought she’d make a point of it.

But the succession… I had never really considered that I would be the ruler of Rosemount. I always believed Father would plot out some plan to keep it from me, even if it had involved my death since he had despised me so—prior to three days ago, that is. Now, with the war over and the Peace Treaty in place, where did that put me? I could feel my face begin to flush. Would Bart take my throne from me?

From the look on Zahra’s face, I could see she wondered as well. I gave her my best charming smile as I replied, “I think you’ll find that I am an honest and forthright person, Zahra, and I certainly have a mind of my own that is not ruled by any man.”

Zahra nodded at me, but I could see her mind working behind those unyielding eyes. The little voice in me spoke up again: Be careful. I let out a sigh and turned my head back to Master Berthou, taking cover in the lecture so I no longer had to speak to Zahra. He turned back to the map and continued.

As much as I had dreaded this forced confinement with the ladies of the court, I was quite happy to be in a classroom and have the chance to learn more about the world. Yet this outburst from Zahra certainly revealed what her agenda truly was. I wondered how many others she would try to unite against me, as it certainly seemed she wanted to fight. If she thought I would be a pushover, she would find that I was granite, and she could push all she wanted—I would not be moved.

Cassandra

I was renewed. As I gazed into the immense, gilded mirror of the Great Hall, I smirked at the reflection of the stunning, nude woman who smiled back at me—the sparkling white teeth set in succulent, pink lips, limpid eyes of luminous blue, a mane like liquid night shimmering with its own secret darkness, set off by ivory skin with an ample, luscious bosom, a wasp-thin waist, and long supple legs. I slowly licked my lips with my lovely, delicate pink tongue, no longer black and forked. No man could now resist me, and if he were foolish enough to try, I would shimmer a touch of magic on him and he would find his mind changed. But for now, I’d do it the easy way, the old-fashioned way—with the power of lust.

I breathed in a sigh of deep contentment, thrilled to begin the process of my revenge. It fed me like nourishment, like the beating hearts I had just consumed whose power now flowed through me. I was like the moon exiting out of an eclipse—I was born again. I padded as a panther on the prowl across the length of the room to my beloved throne as my Cornu Inhumanus beheld me in all my glory. I placed my bare buttocks onto the seat.

I gasped with the power that gripped me, that flowed through me, the images of death, the power of the darkness. There was not oblivion in the darkness, there was unlimited power for those who knew how to look for it. Tears of joy ran down my face. Oh, Death, tickle my toes, kiss my skin, lick my being. How you love me and all that I have brought to your door. I let the waves of pain rush over me, it sent me into an indescribable pleasure state that was pure ecstasy and all encompassing.

After moments, hours, or days—time was lost to me when I was in such a state—I was completely renewed in body and spirt. I rose feeling invincible in my perfected, powerful body and faced my army. Francesca stood in the front, bowing low before me. I nodded at her; she could feel my pleasure and knew what it meant. “It is time to begin,” I said to her as I tapped Dreambreaker to my left, a black wagon flew across the cavern, landing in front of my army.

“Remember, this is a simple intelligence mission. We need the information I discussed with you, don’t raise any suspicions.” I gazed down at Francesca, who gave me a nod of affirmation.

“Yes, my witch. I shall return within a day with what you require,” she said solemnly. Nine of the most beautiful girls joined Francesca and loaded into the wagon. They were all dressed in the simple clothing of castle servants to blend in with the vast staff of Alganoun, but they were protected with my magic. If you were to meet one of them, you would always give them anything they asked for, yet have no understanding as to why you did. It was a lovely little piece of subtle magic that I had imbued them with, and it would give them the power they needed to succeed. In moments, they were gone.

I gazed upon the remaining girls, their impassive faces turned to me. “You have your orders.” I retook my seat as they quickly dispersed. I needed to think. I practically roared as the power flooded back into me. I focused. I focused on her—Princess Olive—and made my plans.

Remember, I told you that there was more to my scheme than I initially mentioned. The upcoming solstice would mark the five-hundredth anniversary of my becoming a witch. Five hundred years. It was called the Phoenix Anniversary because you were reborn in the power of the light of solstice. And, as with any solstice, if you knew how to do it, you could steal magical powers from another. Of course, I knew how to do it. The Phoenix alone would have multiplied my powers as I bathed in the light of the winter solstice and spoke the Spell of Breaking. But I would also steal the princess’s powers, and not only what she possessed now but much more than that thanks to a prized artefact I had stolen from the Forbidden Continent. I would become the most powerful witch that had ever existed in this world.

Do you find that arrogant? Do you think me too full of myself, too strident, too pompous and condescending? After more than five hundred years, perhaps I have earned the right, don’t you think? I am taking you into my confidence, you will know the plan, the secrets. My secrets. That must give you some sense of my affection for you.

Don’t you pine to join me? You humans adore power, and I will be the maker, and the breaker, of all. I can feel how much you want to join me. Good.

Olive

Bart’s right hand held my left. His index finger gently stroked my crux—it sent a shiver down my spine and put a smile on my lips. “She’s always wanted to be the queen. I’m sorry if she made you feel uncomfortable,” he said. His kind brown eyes stared intensely into mine.

“No, it’s fine,” I said softly. “I was only surprised that she would be so vocal about it in front of all of the ladies.”

We were standing by ourselves in a corner of the royal family’s expansive sitting room, away from the rest of the crowd, which included my family and his. Our fathers spoke together at the other end of the room, and I prayed my father would not say anything asinine, but that was asking a great deal.

Bart’s two sisters were in attendance: Zahra and Valora, who was only fifteen. Though I had only spoken with her once at any length, I immediately adored her. She took after Bart in temperament and was kind and interesting and the lucky possessor of a quick wit. I looked forward to knowing her better. I glanced over to where Roseline stood, looking lovely in a silk gown of sea foam green, and could see Lord Rupert taking advantage of the moment, flirting shamelessly with her. Well, Roseline had seemed interested in him on their first meeting at her sixteenth birthday party, perhaps this would bring her some happiness.

I caught my father staring at me, again, and quickly looked away. He said I was now the most beautiful woman who had ever lived and that I should feel so fortunate to have been blessed with this exquisite beauty. He had gone from despising me, insulting me, being horribly embarrassed of me, to… adoring me. Completely. He still didn’t speak with me, he just looked at me with utter bliss on his face. The smiles I had so longed for from him before, now rained down on me like sharp knives. Those smiles were empty to me. He still couldn’t see me, only this beautiful shell that had been placed around me.

“You don’t know Zahra,” Bart whispered. “When it comes to the succession, there is not a man, woman or child in all of Alganoun Castle who does not know of her displeasure with the current laws.” He gripped my hand in his. “I can’t tell you how many warnings have been given me, with only the kindest of intentions, to let me know they feared for my life because of Zahra.” His face showed his amusement, but it made my heart thud in despair.

“Do you think she’s capable of that?” I hissed in a low voice.

“I am her brother, Olive,” he said calmly, then looked me in the eye. “No, I don’t think she’s that heartless.”

I stared at him a moment; I was certainly not committed to that answer. Was that what I was feeling so uneasy about? Was I to be worried about Zahra, that she would harm Bart?

“She also implied that you would take my kingdom from me to rule,” I whispered, “that it was your intention.” I looked closely at his reaction when I said it, but his face was calm, his eyes did not look away from mine, not a flicker of irritation in them.

“Do you want to rule Rosemount separately from Alganoun?”

“Truly, I’ve never given it a thought. Not with my father… his hatred of me…” I stuttered to a stop.

His hand reached up and slowly stroked my cheek. “Please, don’t worry, Olive. We will find an answer to all of this, but after all we’ve been through in the last week, I think it’s time we enjoy ourselves a bit and put our worries behind us. Don’t you think?”

But that was the problem: I was having a hard time thinking. And the part that wasn’t thinking, the part that was only feeling, told me to be on my guard. I looked into his eyes, his wonderful sable brown eyes that gazed back at me with such love. “Yes,” I said, “I want to enjoy this time too and spend it getting to know you better.”

“Then I’ll have to be on my best behavior so you won’t change your mind about marrying me.” He squeezed my hand and let out a low laugh.

“I shall never change my mind. I promise you that,” I said earnestly. He brought my hand to his lips and softly kissed my palm. Whenever Bart touched me, it felt like a warm current of emotion flowed through me. I was so new to love. No wonder people yearned for it so if it made them feel like this.

“May the Mother hear your words, my love, and never break them.” He turned and took a step closer to me, his head tilted to match mine.

Zahra’s cutting voice interrupted us. “Did you enjoy the lesson today, Olive?”

Somehow, I felt she had waited for that opportunity to ruin our moment. Another tactical move in what I foresaw as a protracted battle. I pulled my eyes away from Bart’s to meet Zahra’s icy stare. “Yes, Master Berthou seems to be quite knowledgeable. I look forward to his next lesson.” I smiled politely, then waited for her to bring up the topic of succession regarding our kingdoms.

“I don’t know why I bother attending anymore,” she said with a growl of frustration. “He hasn’t changed his lesson plans in years.” She gave me a harsh look. “Of course, it is the rule of the court that the ladies attend if they are not married. Rather a punishment for the old maids, like me.” She said it like a warning. “Brother, could you give me a royal decree that exempts me from any further torment from Master Berthou?”

She smiled at him like a snake, and it made my heart jump. Oh, I did not like this woman. My body roared a warning at me, and my head was swimming. I grasped Bart’s arm for support.

“Are you well, my dear?” Bart asked with concern.

I took a deep breath in and breathed out slowly to calm myself. “I think I just need to eat something,” I said as I leaned against him.

“Then you’re in the right place.” He took my arm and led me towards the dining room. I could feel Zahra’s eyes burning a hole in my back. She was going to be a fearsome enemy; I could feel it.

“But what if I don’t want to be married?” demanded Zahra. “What if I’d prefer to be a spinster than handed off in some bargain to provide a stronger political alliance for you?” She stared defiantly at King Ivan, who glared coldly at her in return.

He cleared his throat sharply. “Let us discuss this at a later time.”

“I don’t see why,” Zahra calmly stated. “I think our proposed new family members might be interested in the topic.” She turned her head until her gaze fell on Roseline. “Roseline, darling. I believe you were quite put out when your father demanded that you marry my little brother? Was it his homeliness that put you off him, or simply wanting what you wanted—the handsome Prince Victore of Cisalpenia, the traitors to our south?”

Roseline’s face burned crimson. “P-perhaps, initially,” she stuttered. “But in the end, I agreed to do my duty as my father requested,” she stated more forcefully.

I looked across the table and my father beamed at his beloved Roseline, the one who had bent to his will. He felt my eyes on him, turned his head and gave me his best smile of approval. I looked down at my plate. How I had longed for that smile when I had still looked like myself.

Zahra sneered at Roseline. “Yes, after your fiancée was killed by my little brother, you saw the light.” She let out a mean giggle of laughter. “And you were going to marry your beloved’s killer. I find that more than a bit fickle, don’t you?”

“Zahra,” Bart said in a low tone of warning.

Roseline’s eyes narrowed. “Victore was a traitor.”

“But you loved him so desperately, or so I’ve been told?” Zahra arched an eyebrow at her like a sword.

“I was mistaken,” Roseline said softly. “He did not deserve my affections.”

“Indeed, there is truth in that.” She gave Roseline a smile of reconciliation then turned to me. “Lucky for you, Olive, or you would never have met my little brother.”

I thought about what I wanted to say for a few moments before I answered. With the fight going on in my head, it was still difficult to speak coherently, yet I knew this was a sparring match that was only establishing parameters and I would not expose myself to attack like a lamb to slaughter. “If things had not happened exactly as they did, there is a very good chance none of us would be sitting at this table. The Great Mother was definitely watching over us all.” I tried to smile pleasantly and not appear smug.

“Of course, I don’t see what the attraction is,” scoffed Zahra. “Now that you’re the most beautiful woman in the world…” she said it like an insult “… what you see in my homely little brother is a bit of a mystery.” Then she gave me a look that could only be expressed as provocation.

I looked her right in the eye. “Your brother saw me, loved me, for who I was when everyone else could only see a monster.” I turned to Bart and continued, “He saw magic in me when there was none, when there was nothing but my soul.” I gazed at him, trying to show him all the love I felt in my heart, then looked back to Zahra. “I see all that happened as a great blessing for both of our houses, Zahra.”

“Indeed,” she replied curtly, “I guess some of us are just more blessed than others.”

“Who’s to say that your union would not be blessed as well, Zahra?” Bart kindly directed to his sister.

“Ah, your four days of being in love have made you an expert?” she snickered.

Bart’s eyes remained kind as he replied, “I’m simply saying that perhaps you should be more open to possibilities.”

Zahra let out a long sigh. “Quite right, little brother.” She turned to her father and said, “Fine, Father. My twenty-fifth birthday ball will commence in a fortnight. Let the wheeling and dealing begin.” She picked up her wine glass and raised it. “Here’s to possibilities.” She smiled good-naturedly, which seemed to pain her.

“To possibilities,” we all chimed together and raised our glasses, relieved she had taken this turn in the conversation.

Zahra drained her goblet and held it out for the servant to refill. I watched as a beautiful, young girl with long, brown ringlets and startling blue eyes lifted her pitcher and refilled the glass, then quietly turned and retook her place in the shadows. I stared at her. Her face was impassive as she stood like a statue holding her pitcher of wine. My heart fluttered a warning.

What in the world was going on with me? What were these warnings I felt? Was I completely paranoid? Zahra? This little girl? I must be losing my mind. I prayed I could find an answer to what was happening to me tonight.

I heard a soft tapping at my door. “Come in.”

My mother entered, reverently carrying the silver robe of the High Priestess in her outstretched arms. “As requested,” she said with a warm smile. “You’re fortunate that I’ve always brought it with me wherever I go.” She stroked the material. “I don’t know why I’ve always done that, perhaps just for this moment. So I would have it with me to give to you when you needed it.” She looked at me and I could tell she was worried. “It’s been such a busy last couple of days, Olive, we haven’t had a chance to talk. How are you doing?”

I sat down on the cushy velvet divan and patted the cushion next to me. “I feel like I’ve been in a whirlwind and still don’t have my feet under me.”

My mother placed the gown gently on the bed, giving it a soft stroke of farewell, then joined me. “I know this has all been wild and confusing, but you were destined to be the one.” She looked at me with such pride in her eyes as she softly stroked my face. “I had lost hope, lost faith. Who would have thought when you told me that you were in love with a highwayman that he was the man who would fulfill the legend? Life is certainly filled with surprises.” She smiled broadly as she clasped my hands tightly in hers. “So, why do you need the robe? It certainly is yours now, as you know, but you sounded a little desperate.”

I hadn’t complained to anyone about the headaches because of Ursula’s warning to me when I was transformed: “Careful. All will be jealous of your power. Tell no one what we have shown you.” Did that mean my mother as well? I hadn’t spoken a word of it, except to Bear. Since no person on the planet could speak to animals, save me, I considered him safe. I hated lying to my mother, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“I’ve been wanting to experiment with my abilities and thought the robe might help me do that,” I stated earnestly. “I feel like I know so little about what I can do, but that there is so much more inside of me just waiting to get out.” That was kind of the truth, I thought to myself.

My mother stared back at me. “I felt the same way when I still had my powers,” she said, then paused briefly before continuing, “If only my mother hadn’t died when I was so young, we’d both know so much more.” With a last squeeze of my hand, she stood. “I hope it works. Goodnight, my brave girl.” She leaned over, kissed my cheek and departed.

I looked out my window at the full moon, now high in the sky. I strolled across the room to my bed and stared at the robe. This was the robe of the High Priestess of the Bestiallas, hundreds of years old, and it was now mine.

I placed my hand on it, caressing the material that glistened in the light, which felt like silk, but wasn’t. It was the first time the material had touched me—it felt like it spoke to my skin, like a secret language only I could understand. So cool to the touch, yet heated with power as it shimmered. I slipped it on, fastening the three elegant silver clasps designed to look like lightning bolts, then ran my hands down the material and felt a slight ripple in my soul. I grasped it firmly around me and held myself tight—my head stopped hurting. Perhaps Bear was right and the robe itself was magical. I jumped out of the window into the chilly night air to find my answer.

A low humming filled the night air. I was surrounded by hundreds of animals, birds, insects, reptiles, and amphibians in the glen, all gathered in a grand circle around me. I’m sure the fish in the lake were paying close attention as well.

I had never called upon the power of the Bestiallas before, but I knew I could and that I needed to begin to understand what power the animals brought to me. As I chanted to the Great Mother, a low humming sound was emitted by all the creatures who could emit a sound. It was one sound; how and why it didn’t sound different for every animal was beyond me. It was a comforting, low hum that was hypnotic and mesmerizing.

I also noticed a greater consciousness in me. Whenever I had healed animals in the past, we had shared consciousness, but this... this felt like their minds were joining with mine in support, in strength. There was a new power here: I could feel it but was unsure how to wield it.

I stood in the middle of the circle as they watched me. Wrapped in my priestess robe, shimmering and gleaming in the moonlight, I slowly spun in a circle with my arms raised overhead. I can’t tell you why I did it, it just seemed right. “Great Mother, I beseech you. Great Mother, I beg you, Great Mother, please hear my words—help me with the memories that have been blessed to me. Help me find their power, their meaning, their use. Great Mother, I fear a new presence in our land. Please reveal to me what it is. Please, help me. Please, help me. Please, help me.” I kept chanting, pleading, spinning, as the humming continued.

Without warning, a bolt of lightning split the sky and struck me. Rather, it struck my robe and the robe absorbed the power as it held me in its protection. I was surrounded by light, as if I were the moon shining upon all who beheld me.

A voice spoke from my lips that was not my own, “I will not let the memories gifted to you overwhelm you, dear Olive, High Priestess of the Bestiallas, Queen of the Winnowwood. Too much was given to one so young, so innocent, so untested. You will have them all and more, but first you must learn how to wield your power so that it does not destroy you. I will visit you in your dreams during the full moon and give you guidance. Do not be afraid. You are powerful and strong, you are kind and brave. You will become what you must become. Trust your feelings, as they are true. You have felt the witch that has arrived in your kingdom and she will kill you if you are not more cunning than she. She has no power over you but can control and seduce the mortals who surround you. Caution, Olive, and keep your protectors close. Trust no mortal with what I have told you.”

With that last uttered word, the light evaporated into a shimmering mist that rose into the night sky. I collapsed onto the ground, flat on my back, staring at the moon high overhead.

Bear and Cougar ran to my side. “Are you all right, Princess?” growled Bear.

I was stunned. I cautiously raised my arms and examined them as I wiggled my fingers, then my toes. Everything still worked to my relief. I ran my fingers down my robe and could feel the power that hummed within its fabric. I looked up to Bear. “Thank the Mother you told me to wear the robe!” I exclaimed.

Bear let out a gruff growl of amusement. “I’m just pleased you are unharmed.”

I sat up. “A witch!” I exclaimed. “Did you hear her? There’s a witch!”

More of the animals came close to stand next to me, comforting me with their simple presence. Side Stripe, a small fox and my self-declared personal protector, jumped into my lap. “Have no fear, Princess, we will let no harm come to you,” he declared earnestly.

I petted his head, stroking his ears. “Yes, and I am so thankful for that.” I looked up at Bear. “I knew I felt something. Something new and foul in the air, but I had no idea it could be something so… so dreadful!”

“You are more powerful than a witch,” said Bear, looking me in the eye with that look he always gave me when he worried I was forgetting who I was.

He was right, as usual. I needed reminding. I would not panic. I breathed in a deep calming breath and said, “So, we need to come up with a plan.”

“She promised to guide you,” he reminded me firmly.

“Yes, she did.” I said as I sent up an earnest prayer of thanks from my heart. She’s going to help me master all of this.

“You are blessed. In all ways, you are blessed,” Bear affirmed.

“Except for the fact that a witch has returned,” I stated, “which will certainly not be a blessing for these lands.”

“There is only one witch that your sisters did not destroy,” added Bear.

“Cassandra Dragon Slayer,” we both echoed.

“Why has she returned after all these years?” I asked.

Bear looked thoughtful, pausing to consider. “There is only one reason I think possible.” He looked at me with his penetrating stare. “Revenge. She has come back to take revenge for her sisters.”

“But they’re all dead. All of those Winnowwood who killed her sisters are dead,” I argued.

“I don’t think that will matter to her,” he said ominously. “Remember, she is the one who cursed your kind. She is the one who knew how to destroy your sisters. She is wicked and evil and extremely clever,” he growled.

“And old. She is very old. That alone should give her away. There can’t be that many old crones that would go unnoticed.”

“Do not forget she can take different guises. Do not forget what Ursula was stopping when she killed the first witch.”

“They kill children and eat their hearts to lengthen their lives,” I uttered quietly.

“Not simply to lengthen their lives, but to appear youthful as well,” he reminded me.

My mind was spinning. Cassandra Dragon Slayer had returned to these lands and I was completely unprepared. I took a deep breath. The Great Mother has promised to help you. She will not let harm befall you, that little voice in me declared. I would not be afraid. I would work to learn as much as I could, as quickly as I could, so I could master my powers.

I looked around at the concerned faces of the animals who surrounded me, then stood and dusted off my robe, flicking off a few leaves. “Thank you all for gathering here tonight and helping me. It was your power that summoned the Great Mother to answer my prayers. With your help, I know we will be able to stop this evil that has returned to our lands.”

So many of my friends stood here, wanting to take care of me, wanting to help. “Now, we need to find her. I’ll need a full scouting party to survey the island to try to find where she’s hiding. That should be easy for our feathered friends?” I gazed over to all the birds that had flocked in the trees.

“Of course, Princess.” “We will find her!” “Count on us,” declared multiple birds.

“If any of you find anything, at any time—day or night—fly to the castle at once and find me. No delays, please.” I looked for my favorite mice, there they were—Brown Mouse and Grey Mouse, my little love birds. “I would like you two to come to the castle and organize the mice there into scouting parties.”

Grey Mouse grinned. “It will be like our time in Black Bart’s Cave!” she chittered happily.

I nodded and smiled. “Yes, and Side Stripe will be your ride again.”

I glanced up at the full moon overhead and wondered if I returned to sleep as quickly as possible, perhaps Great Mother would speak to me again. I wouldn’t waste that possibility.

I turned to my closest friends. “Bear and Side Stripe, please meet me at the gates of Alganoun Castle tomorrow at dawn. I will be there to insure you are permitted entry. Cougar and Wolf, coordinate things here at the glen and come to the castle if there is anything important to report. Everyone, please keep your eyes and ears open. Speak to all the animals of the land. We need to find this witch as soon as we can.”

I knew they would do as I said, because they had to obey my orders. That was part of my magic, but I loved them so for genuinely wanting to help. “Remember, send word to Alganoun Castle if you hear of anything odd occurring in the land or if you need me.”

I crawled back into my bed, exhausted from my endeavors, and burrowed deep under the covers. I took deep relaxing breaths, calmed my mind, and surrendered to the darkness.

I stand in the light of the moon facing a calm lake, the moonbeams shimmering and dancing on the mirrored water like thousands of crushed diamonds. A deep calm and peace fill me as I stare at the beauty before me.

“You were clever not to waste a moment.” I turn to find myself facing a unicorn, its gleaming white coat glimmering in the moonlight. A luxurious silver mane flows down its back, its silver horn glistening with inner luminescence.

For a moment, I can only stare. “I didn’t think unicorns were real. That they were only legend,” I utter sheepishly.

“But you are the fulfillment of a legend as well, so why shouldn’t I be?” She smiles at me so beautifully with gleaming white teeth, takes a step in and I put my arms around her and hug her close. “You are the High Priestess of the Bestiallas, and you have powers you must discover,” she whispers softly in my ear.

As I hold her, I am filled with a sense of complete devotion and peace. “But how am I to do that? How am I to even know what there is to learn? To know the questions to ask?” I run my fingers in her mane, and each silken hair murmurs with magic that I can feel as it kisses my fingertips. “How am I to even know what’s possible?”

“No one knows what is possible. That is the key to magic. You must find what is, what could be, what will be,” her calming voice replies like an enchantment. “You must find the answer in you.” That makes no sense to me, it sounds like a riddle that I didn’t know how to answer.

She steps away from me. “First, you must learn more of your powers, your weaknesses. You must learn to live in your strength. Until you can do that, I cannot trust you with all the information you seek. I must know that you are strong enough to bear it, to understand it, to wield it, and that it will not break you. In the months ahead, many will try to entrap you in their plans and schemes. Olive, you must be wise. You must learn to be powerful in who you are and not waiver in your character. When you can do that, your true destiny will be revealed to you.”

She must see the fear in my eyes because she steps forward again and whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry. I am sending you help.”

She disappears before my eyes and I am left staring at the magical lake. It draws me to it like a magnet and I step slowly into its calm waters until I submerge completely. My legs turn into a silver fish tail and I am now a mermaid. I feel the gills in my ribs breathing for me as I swim into the depths of the lake towards a shimmering light, its source hidden in the darkness, swinging my tail back and forth, cutting swiftly through the water.

Downwards, until I see an immense ruined ship resting in the sands of its watery tomb and light shimmering from within. I swim into the wreck and light pulses and winks from a source somewhere in front of me, guiding me to the remains of the captain’s cabin. The radiance comes from a small chest made of silver, which glistens in the darkness, its top slightly ajar. I swim close and open its lid—inside is a necklace, an intricate silver chain fastened to a pearlescent orb, the size of a quail’s egg, from which the light emanates.

The orb is magnificent with its shimmering light that looks like a swirling world of clouds and lightning enclosed in its magical globe. For a few moments, I gaze at it and admire its beauty as the tiny bolts of lightning shake the world encased in the sphere. It is stunning.

I gently reach out to touch the orb—it rolls into my fingers as if it’s seeking its home. My fingers close around it, and it practically sings to me. I am overflowing with a sense of complete serenity, and my eyes close.

Cassandra

I put on the deceptively simple gown of black— it was no more than a slip. The material did not feel like any material you would ever have touched because it was made from the essence of dreams and nightmares given substance by magic. And in my case, you know it is definitely more nightmares. It was one of two and the other was its twin in every way. Why would I have only two gowns, you wonder, haven’t I claimed to possess riches beyond imagination? These two gowns were charmed to my blood and could become any gown, any garment, I desired. They were priceless.

I stared into the mirror as it changed into a gleaming gown of gold, its bodice embedded with lush, silver stitchery in the shape of flowering vines that gleamed and sparkled, with sleeves of golden gossamer that gathered at the wrist. The waistline was corseted tightly, heaving my breasts upwards into such a state that it appeared my luscious globes were about to escape the imprisonment of the silver vines wrapping seductively around each of them.

How they would want to conquer me. Of course, there would be no chance of that, I would be the ultimate conqueror as I would enslave them all. With my powers of Captivation, they would want what I wanted, they would need what I told them to need. I would bring the court of Alganoun to its knees—willingly—as they worshipped me.

Hmm… no, red was the more fitting color, a symbol of all the blood I would spill to get what I wanted. The golden gown morphed into a dress of heavy, blood-red silk in the same design with the silver vines wrapping upwards. My breasts looked magnificent, my porcelain skin set off by the dramatic color, my black hair gleaming. It would go perfectly with diamonds and rubies. Yes, I would wear blood-red the first time I appeared in their court. It would be such a memorable evening for all in attendance and I would present a vision none of them would ever forget.

“You saw her,” I sneered with delight, “I can’t believe they let her sit with them at dinner.”

“Why, my witch?” Francesca asked quietly.

“I understand how their powers work, Francesca,” I said impatiently. “After drawing that powerful storm that destroyed King Viratrex’s fleet, as well as the lightning bolt, I imagine it left its mark all over her face. Humans do not tolerate ugly well.” I chuckled meanly as I thought of it. “Did they at least make her wear a veil to hide her face?”

Francesca looked at me strangely.

“What?” I demanded. “What haven’t you told me?”

“Princess Olive is beautiful, my witch. Very, very beautiful,” she declared.

“But you said she still had the crux on her left hand,” I spat out at her.

“Yes, her left little finger had the branch you described to me,” she stated firmly.

I let out an unguarded gasp of surprise, collapsed onto the black velvet chair at my dressing table, my hands shaking. I had been frivolously designing spectacular gowns and this new information had caught me unawares. By the Darkness, she had broken my spell! Oh, I had been careless with that spell. I’d been so eager to bind it, to increase its power, I had made this exception. This one damn exception! I closed my eyes to recall all that had happened that night, to remember my anger and the vengeance I had sought as I made my curse. I recalled it so clearly—the night that had changed everything.

They had killed my sixteen sisters; burnt them into the ground until there was nothing left but ash. I would have my vengeance and kill them all, for I knew their innermost secret: I knew how desperately these ugly women craved beauty. I would give them that in spades—beauty that was unimagined, beauty never before seen in these lands; and then they would all die.

I researched all the spells I knew. I plotted. I calculated. Then, in a moment of spell-making brilliance, I found the answer. I carefully accumulated all the ingredients I needed and waited for the next full moon that would make the spell the most powerful.

There was a magical lake, Entadaxia, which was favored by our kind and would give me the most power to achieve my heart’s desire. Legends abounded of the magic contained in its dark depths, and tonight, its bewitched waters would become the beginning of my magic. I went into the black crypt that stood by the lakeshore under a cleft in the rocks, it was stocked with the supplies I would need. The crypt was spelled and protected, no one could enter it unless a witch wanted you to enter it. I quickly gathered what I needed.

With the full moon overhead, I approached the lake and inhaled deeply—evil was in the air—it brought a smile to my lips. And, as if the Dark Sister herself were welcoming me, a potent storm arrived to greet me. The wind beat against me like a crazed banshee, crashing the waves upon the beach in a thunder. I stood on the rocky shore absorbing the energy, feeling the power of the wind, the water, and knew I had made the right choice. I gathered driftwood and soon had a roaring fire.

A large bear lumbered along the edge of the lake, but when he spotted me, he ran into the forest—smart bear. Good thing my spell did not call for any bear blood, only wolf, sheep, and peacock.

Pouring the water from the lake into my cauldron, I began to make the potion that would eradicate my enemy. I added the blood of the animals I had killed to make the magic potent, then waited until the thick, red contents of the pot were boiling.

After carefully laying out the other elements, I began my incantation. I cast a handful of Devil’s Coal into the pot and cried, “I curse you ugly wretches!” An eruption of crimson and purple sparks shot up from the liquid.

“With beauty,” I added, then threw in a clawful of clay that I had obtained from the deepest part of the witch’s crypt. It hit the hot brew, bursting into glowing, yellow worms that wiggled into the boiling sludge.

“Cut it off in the moonlight,” I hissed, then tossed a handful of round white pellets high into the air. I had made them from an egg from a magical crow and it had cost me a steep price, but it would all be worth it if my spell was successful. At the zenith of the arc the eggs popped open, releasing tiny black crows that flew into the pot as they screamed, “Caw, caw, caw!”

“But no more magic.” I picked up the perfect red rose and cast it upon the roiling liquid. “Unless she is loved warts and all.”

You might wonder why I would offer this, why allow any chance for my enemy? It is certainly not because I didn’t want them all to die. Because I am a witch and you are not, you would not know that if the curse you wish to cast is to be its most powerful, you must balance the power with the rarest of exceptions to stabilize the spell. It makes the magic impenetrable to counter-curses and I would not leave any angle for these ugly women to find a way out from my death sentence. Besides, is there a man alive who could ever love such an ugly girl? I knew I had found the perfect curse to banish them all forever.

As I gazed into the roiling liquid, I spied what yearned for. I reached in and grabbed the glistening, blood-red blade, then licked the cutting edge with my black tongue and could taste the magic, could taste its perfection and knew that all would be as I had envisioned. It would annihilate them all!

It would not be overnight, but their days were now numbered. They thought their magic more powerful than mine, but my curse would show them that I, Cassandra Dragon Slayer, would win revenge for all my dead sisters!

I shuddered with rage as I recalled my thoughts and emotions of that night. Who in this cursed world had told them? How had she figured it out? I was willing to bet it was that damn Bear that had been hovering about in the forest. I should have killed him then and there, chased him down on my bone and cleaved him in two with my sword. Oh, I would curse their species with darkness and wrath.

I was breathing too quickly and could feel Francesca’s eyes on me. “Well, that certainly is shocking news. Tell me, is she with a man? Did you notice?” I kept my voice low and calm, no one would see me this undone, nor know how I felt inside.

“Yes, my witch. She is betrothed to the Prince of Alganoun. I heard them discuss it,” she said calmly.

I breathed deeply, not wanting to show any further emotion, then considered what had happened. A Prince of Ursula’s line—the most powerful Winnowwood the world had known, until now. Ursula’s descendant had broken the spell. That gave me a feeling of unease. I tried to ignore it, but something in the back of my head whispered to me. I could not hear it, some ancient memory. I knew how to cull that out. Later.

“What else did you learn?” I asked.

“There is a ball in a fortnight, my witch, for the Alganoun Princess Zahra’s twenty-fifth birthday. Its primary goal appears to be to find her a husband.”

“That is rather long in the tooth for a human,” I mused. “How is it that she has not yet married?”

“She has a difficult temperament and believes she should be ruler of Alganoun because she is the eldest child. Princess Zahra should be open to your overtures. She is very unhappy and, I believe, might easily be convinced to assist you in her brother’s death, making her the heir to the Kingdom of Alganoun.”

I smiled coldly. “I do adore a woman who is willing to commit fratricide to attain her ambitions.”

“There is also the sister of the Winnowwood, Princess Roseline. She is quite beautiful as well, but I could see in her eyes how much she envies her sister. Her crux is gone, just a white circle on her little finger as you described. She is weak and insecure, and it would be easy to turn her to you. I could feel her thoughts,” Francesca said assuredly.

“Rather dangerous, selecting members of the families I am sworn to destroy, but they would be enslaved to me…” I looked closely at Francesca “… I can kill them later when they have fulfilled their purpose.” I turned back to the mirror and admired the blood-red dress I still wore. “And Prince Dagna, the son of King Viratrex? Were you able to locate him?”

“Yes, my witch. He is in the lower dungeon on the north side, isolated from all others. You will have no problem meeting with him and no prying eyes to observe you.”

“You have done well, as usual, my pet.” I reached into the drawer of my armoire, then brought my hand to hers and dropped a ring with an outsized sapphire in a setting of silver onto her palm. Her eyes grew bright as she gazed upon it. My little Catcher had never outgrown her love of sparkling objects. Even witches have property they need to protect.

Francesca curtsied low before me. “There is no need, my witch. I am here to serve you.”

“I know, but you do your job well and that should be rewarded upon occasion,” I said, smiling coldly. “I have a long road in front of me to obtain the final vengeance I seek for my sisters and for myself. It is an intricate plan that has many parts. We must have patience to put it into place, to accomplish all that I need, and it must all come together on the Winter Solstice in one moon’s time. You will be key in that plan.” I took the ring from her palm and placed it onto her finger.

“I will do whatever you need, whenever you need it, my witch,” she stated solemnly.

I looked at her beautiful face, her cunning eyes. Yes, my prized Catcher would be irreplaceable in the scheme I planned. And if I were to truly exploit my Phoenix Anniversary, everything needed to happen with the utmost precision. I would not let anyone, or anything, interfere in my plan, no matter how many I needed to kill. The more the merrier—don’t you think?

Olive

I woke up with a start and realized immediately my head no longer hurt. I felt like myself for the first time since I had changed, my own memories with no foreigners trying to add to those memories. It was unspeakably wonderful to feel well again. I let out a low chuckle of relief, so pleased with the quiet sensations of a pain-free existence.

Then I remembered my dream and the conversation with the unicorn. My hand flew to my neck, and I clutched at the chain I found there. I pulled it up into my hands and there lay the magnificent orb nestled in my fingers. It was real. It had all been real. As I gazed at the small sphere, I could see it too was calm, there were no lightning bolts or clouds, its color was now that of a lush meadow in summer, like a beautiful piece of jade that shimmered in the sunlight. I wondered what secrets it held and why it was given to me.

What a night. So much to remember and now I actually could because my head no longer throbbed with the weirdness of those past memories—but they were not lost. I had the promise I would get them all back and more, if I could… what had she said? You must learn to live in your strength. That was certainly a thought worth considering, but how did one learn to live in their strength exactly? And how would I find out where the witch was and what should I do when I found her? I knew I could summon lightning if I had to kill her. Too much to think about right now, but I knew I needed to come up with a solid plan for all of it.

I waited, letting my thoughts ramble around in my mind, and I didn’t hear it. I didn’t hear that little voice of sarcasm and doubt that seemed to always have that unfortunate effect of speaking when I least wanted her to… could Great Mother have freed me of her constant insults as well? Perfect.

I looked to the window and could see the deep black of the night beginning to give way to the lavenders and greys of dawn’s first breaths. I sat up and examined my spacious room; it was quite immense, with its own hearth, a sitting area with four substantial armchairs, a small dining table with six chairs, a dressing room and a bathing chamber. Certainly, large enough for my friends to be comfortable. I leaped out of bed to dress.

I spied Bear and Side Stripe, with the two mice on his head, sitting at the edge of the forest close to the main gate of Alganoun and swooped down in my eagle form to meet them.

I changed back into myself as I landed. “Welcome back to Alganoun, my friends.” Bear, Side Stripe and the Mice had all been here before. “Thank you all for coming.”

“Of course, Princess,” growled Bear. “We will keep you safe.” The others nodded in agreement.

“Let me introduce you to the Captain of the Guard,” I said, “he’ll ensure no one harms you and that all his guards are informed of your presence here.” I led them over to the gate, where we were met by four guards who immediately gaped at me, dumbfounded. I despised this; it would probably take two or three tries before they could even answer me.

“I’d like to speak to the Captain of the Guard,” I stated firmly. I gazed upon them; each man was tongue-tied, eyes glazed over. Mother had told me it would be easier when they were more used to seeing me.

“Captain of the Guard, please report!” I shouted as loudly as I could. I heard a grumble coming from inside the tower, but the foursome of guards did not respond, except with dopey smiles and smirks on their faces. Finally, a large, coarse-faced man strode out of the tower. I recognized him: it was Captain Seymour, who had fought alongside Bart at the beach and had been on guard the evening I was transformed; he had been very kind to me.

I stepped forward. “Captain Seymour, so nice to see you again.”

For a moment, I was worried he too was going to fall into a stupor, but he pulled himself together momentarily. “Princess Olive, it is a pleasure to see you again as well.” He gave me a perfunctory bow. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m sure you remember Bear?” I waved my hand toward the animals.

“Of course.” He gave Bear a stiff nod, who returned it with a low growl.

“I guess you could say these are my staff of protectors who will live with me while I’m here at Alganoun. Would you be so kind as to inform your troops that they are not to harm them in any way, and they will be lodged in my quarters?”

“Indeed, I will,” he said with a nod, “but has something happened to make you worry, Princess? Are you unsure about my soldiers’ competency?”

“Certainly not, Captain. But they have been my protectors these many long years, and I’m so used to their presence.” I didn’t want to tell him the truth—that I was afraid of a witch and my protectors were not subject to a witch’s powers. “You know I have complete faith in your men as I know personally how valiantly they fight.” I smiled at him as we remembered what had had happened the previous week at the beach.

“Indeed, my lady.” He gave me another short bow.

“In fact, if you would be so kind, please let all your men know that I would sincerely appreciate no animals be harmed who come to the castle. There may be other messengers arriving and I wouldn’t want any of them hurt through some sort of a misunderstanding.”

“Of course, Princess,” he said, nodding firmly.

I turned and headed into the castle with my staff of personal protectors—the newest residents of Alganoun Castle.

As I sat listening to Master Berthou discuss the Battle of Buckmeade Pass— the first one, a hundred years past—I continued to make orderly notes of key points. It was hard to keep up. There were so many new facts I had not been aware of regarding the battle and the alliances that had been formed. I had not known that it had been the Prince of Alganoun who had sacrificed himself while leading the last charge against the Druzazzi that had finally secured our victory. He reminded me of Bart in his selflessness. I flexed my fingers for a moment, then picked up my quill again, dipping it into the ink well. I felt eyes on me and looked up to find Zahra openly staring at me with a smug look on her face.

I gave her a polite nod, then looked back to my paper, more to not engage with her than anything else. The Great Mother said to trust my feelings and my feelings screamed at me that Zahra was a threat—a big one. I pulled out the second sheet of paper I had been writing on, a list of rambling words and phrases: witch, threats, live in your strength, servant girl with blue eyes, how to kill witches, birthday party, Bart, succession, protectors, Bestiallas, Great Mother, Unicorn… I shook my head trying to find any sense in them. I added another word—Zahra—and underlined it.

“We were lucky to have won this battle a hundred years ago, as we were when we won the battle seven years past. Both by the proverbial ‘skin of our teeth’ against these vicious butchers.” Master Berthou said, finally wrapping up his lecture. “We are even more fortunate to have won the battle against this same notorious enemy this past week due to the courage and magical powers of Princess Olive.” He paused, then gave me a formal bow. “I would like to extend my personal thanks to you, Princess. Perhaps one day you might honor me with a personal account of all that transpired so that I may record it accurately for posterity. It would be a great honor,” he stated earnestly.

I took a breath to calm myself. I was still not prepared for this new role and I knew I needed to learn it, and now was not the time to be self-deprecating. “Of course, Master Berthou. That would be wise,” I said in a steady voice. “We can speak more about it after class,” I said quietly as an invitation.

He gave me a sharp nod, then turned back to the class. “That is all for today’s lessons, ladies. Enjoy your day.”

I gathered my papers slowly, hoping the other ladies would depart quickly, but it was not to be. Both Zahra and Roseline made a beeline for me.

“Olive, dear,” Zahra simpered, her voice dripping like honey, “Roseline and I were hoping you would assist us in finalizing the plans for my birthday party this afternoon? Are you available?” Her face looked so odd as she attempted to look sweet and compliant, as if all the muscles controlling her face were on the verge of rebelling and her perpetual sneer would soon win out. How taxing it must be for her to pretend to be kind.

“I’m afraid I’m rather bad at that sort of thing, but as you have Roseline to assist you, I know that all will turn out splendidly. She is quite an expert on all things related to extraordinary birthday parties.” I gave her my best smile in return, hoping it would end there.

Roseline put on that pleading face of hers that I usually fell for. “Please, sister. We would so love to have your company.”

I had too much to do, too much to consider and I’d already made plans for my afternoon. “Truly, I would not be of any help with that and I’ve already made plans that I cannot change. Perhaps another day?” I said firmly.

The tone in my voice finally seemed to reach Zahra, though she managed to retain her pleasant expression. “Of course. Another day then.” With that she turned and stalked away in haste, Roseline trailing after her with a last pleading look at me. I gave her a conciliatory wave and watched them disappear out the door.

Still sitting in my chair, I turned to Master Berthou, who had been waiting unobtrusively at the side of the room. “Would it be possible for you to lend me some of your books regarding the history of our island, sir?”

“Certainly, Princess. Any particular time periods?” he politely asked.

“Everything. I would like to read everything you have. But to begin, if you have any books that cover the times of the witches in our lands, I would be most grateful,” I stated, then quietly added, “My lessons were not complete in my house and I would like to fill in those areas of learning I have missed.”

Master Berthou’s eyes sparked with interest. “When you have the time, I would be happy to review any topic of your choice with you.”

I nodded my thanks.

“Would it be agreeable if I had the books delivered to your rooms later this afternoon?” he asked.

“It certainly would, and I promise to make time soon to discuss last week’s battle with you in as much detail as you can tolerate.” I smiled warmly.

“I look forward to working with you, Princess. A student with a keen desire to learn is always a Master’s greatest treasure,” he said kindly.

I could tell I had found a friend. In the window was another friend—a blue bird. I knew she was not sitting there quietly by accident; it appeared Bear already had his guard duty roster in place. That was quick. I finally stood. “And I shall treasure the knowledge you share with me, Master Berthou. Thank you, so much.”

I rushed back down to my chamber to change. Bart had asked me to join him for a late luncheon after classes ended. He had said he wanted to take me to a special place on the castle grounds where we would dine alone, a rather intriguing invitation to say the least. I felt rather giddy to tell you the truth. We hadn’t had any time alone since I had come to Alganoun.

Sometimes, it felt like everything that had happened the previous week was merely a dream, especially the night we had spent alone together at the glen. That was the night I had begun to fall in love with Bart, after a day spent running for our lives.

I knew no one understood how Bart could have fallen in love with me so quickly—after all, we had only met the previous day and we had hated each other at that first meeting. But that next twenty-four hours had been a lifetime in so many ways; they bound us together in a way that did seem magical but was not. It was real. It was as if our hearts had recognized each other and opened to welcome the other in. I remembered when Bart had kissed me that evening in front of everyone, I felt like I had found my home in his arms.

Still, most people thought we had been enchanted by a spell in some manner. Last night after dinner, Roseline had been most eager to report the rumors of the court to me, even expressing her tacit agreement. I laughed at her because I thought this effort to try to explain it all away was ridiculous. Roseline had looked at me rather stunned and said, “But Olive, he’s so ugly and now you are utterly beautiful. How could you possibly want to marry him?”

“Sister, if you recall, I was the ugly one when he proposed to me.” I tried to explain. “He saw me for who I was, and I see him as he is. And he is not ugly. Please know that I think he is absolutely perfect.”

She stared at my face. I guess it was the first time she had sat this close to me since I had changed. Within moments, tears began to flow from her lovely, green eyes. She tried to blink the tears back but failed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I pushed her hair back from her face and stroked her left cheek as I knew she found it comforting.

She blinked her eyes a few more times. “You’re so beautiful,” she choked out. “It’s so unfair. I was supposed to be the beautiful daughter,” she bleated quietly.

My hand fell to my lap, but I refused to be angry. Roseline was simply being Roseline. “You are as lovely as a fine summer day, Roseline. I know you will be the belle of the ball at Zahra’s birthday party and will have your pick of many handsome suitors,” I said.

She looked back up at me with a wisp of a smile on her lips. “Do you really think so?” she asked.

“I am sure of it,” I said firmly, then put my arms around her as she continued to cry. I breathed in patience, wishing this jealousy away, but knew it would never pass.

I opened the heavy oak door to my chamber and let out a chuckle—Bear and Side Stripe were sprawled in front of the hearth looking completely at home enjoying the warmth of the fire. “Hello, you two. Settling in alright?” I asked as I closed the door.

“Our mice are out organizing the castle mice on your behalf,” Bear said.

I nodded. “Any news from the birds?”

“Not yet. They started at the north end of the island and are working their way south. They should complete the island by tomorrow evening,” he said.

I mulled over that news. “Hopefully, by then we’ll gain enough information to begin our plan.”

Bear nodded. “Thousands are looking for her. I am cautiously optimistic that we will have the answer shortly.”

I knew Bart would be here soon. I glanced over at the dress I had laid out on the bed to wear, it was a warm, golden-rust velvet, and one of my favorites.

Bear noticed my look. “You’d best hurry, Princess. He will be here soon.” Bear liked Bart, and to me, there couldn’t be a better endorsement regarding his character.

I grabbed the dress and entered my dressing room to change. I quickly stripped off my day dress and let it fall to the floor—I’d hang it up later. I’d refused a handmaiden be assigned to me as I valued my privacy too much to have someone constantly here in my rooms and I didn’t want anyone snooping on me and my friends, not when so much was at risk. A flash to my left made me jump until I realized it was only my own reflection in a floor length mirror; a rather extravagant mirror in a heavy, bronze frame decorated with blooming, hand-painted, blood-red roses entwined around its edges. I’d never had mirrors in my room at our castle, I think my mother thought she was protecting us. I slowly moved over to stand in front of the mirror and couldn’t stop the tears from coming.

I remembered the last time I had looked in a mirror at length—the night of the ball to celebrate our victory over the Druzazzi. Of course, that night the image that greeted me was far, far different. My face had been covered in over one hundred lumps, bumps and warts of varying sizes and color. I had fought the tears that night, swearing I wouldn’t cry because I had saved my kingdom, that the physical cost to me had been worth that price.

Bart had seen my face that day, all the destruction the magic had created, yet he had still wanted to marry me. Isn’t it obvious why I would love him when, physically, I was probably the ugliest woman in all the land? But when he had looked into my eyes, it truly felt like he could see the real me.

Now I stared at this vision in the mirror—this perfect woman with her shining coppery hair curling gracefully down to her waist, perfect ivory skin without mar or blemish, a perfect nose, a perfect mouth, a perfect… everything—only the green eyes were mine. I hated it. I hated feeling like a stranger in my own body. I missed my old face, perhaps not the one with hundreds of warts, but the one I had been born with—rather plain, eyes set far apart with slim lips and a slightly too broad nose—that was me. That’s what I still expected to see when I looked into a mirror. Now, only a stranger stared back at me. I blinked back the tears that were trying to escape in protest of this foreigner’s intrusion.

The orb hanging from my neck changed color again—tiny storm clouds formed. I held it up to look closely and gasped as a gentle rain was brewing within the globe. What was the significance of this orb? Another riddle that needed to be answered.

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, then quickly put on the golden rust gown with the orb next to my skin covered by the dress. Ignoring the foreign face, I admired the gown in the mirror. Its long velvet sleeves flared out at the cuffs, and it was gathered at the bodice but didn’t squeeze my ribs like so many other dresses did. It had a high collar, which was perfect for the chilly day. I combed my hair back from my face and let it fall loose down my back. With that, my preparations were done.

When I exited my dressing room, I found Bart sitting by the fire next to Bear. He glanced over. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I waited here in your chambers as you seem to have plenty of chaperones,” he said with a sly grin.

Bear growled softly as if he understood Bart’s humor. Bart’s eyes travelled to him with a questioning look. “I swear he understands what I say.”

I smiled. “He’s just an exceptionally clever bear, but he doesn’t understand your words, I promise.” I walked over to Bear and put my hand on his head and stroked him. “Like when I lost my powers and all I could hear were your soft growls.”

Bear replied, “That day I found you in the woods, though I couldn’t understand your words any longer, I still felt them in my heart. Somehow, I knew what had happened. I can’t explain how, but I seemed to feel it.”

“We haven’t had the chance to speak of it,” I said, stroking his fur. “It’s funny, but I felt like you understood.” I hugged him, then whispered, “It’s because you are my dearest friend in the world.” I stepped back. “I’ll see you both later.”

Cassandra

I approached the throne. I knew I could receive the answer I needed, if she was willing, but there would be a cost. There was always a cost to summon the Dark Sister. I disrobed and stood naked before the throne. I was alone within the chamber. No one would watch this ritual, no one would set eyes on the true power this throne could be used for. I did not trust even Francesca to see this—I had sent her out to obtain the sustenance I would require when this trial was over. No one could know how to call the Dark Sister except me. Even as I grew my coven, I would keep this secret desperately to myself—I would remain more powerful than any of them and never let that power diminish.

Though it killed me to do it, I pulled my bone from my leg and laid it in front of the throne—it would be damaged beyond repair if I did not separate it from my body. It was even more difficult to take Dreambreaker from my wrist and placed it next to my bone. I felt more than naked, so exposed, so powerless… this had better be worth it.

I stepped in front of the throne and knelt to show my respect. Admittedly, I wasn’t completely convinced this would work. I had called her only once before, four hundred years ago, when my sisters had been destroyed. I think she only came then because she was as furious as I was over their annihilation. I could only hope she would agree to help me once more. I had felt the potent warning in my psyche because of Ursula’s descendant breaking the curse for that Winnowwood, and I wouldn’t ignore it. Not when so much was at stake.

My hand reached out and touched a recessed panel hidden under the seat of the throne, I held my hand against it for a moment until it recognized me. A small trapdoor sprung open, lowering a box made of rosewood covered in carved runes that I removed. Within its containment was a silver knife; its blade looked like mercury given solid form. The hilt of the blade was embedded with countless diamonds, but that blade… it shimmered and pulsed with a life of its own. It was dangerous. No one who laid eyes upon it would think it safe—it was a weapon of power, a weapon of destruction. It was the blade that made a witch.

I reached out and boldly seized the blade—it had to know I required it to do my will. For a moment, I could feel it battle with me—trying to turn its razor-honed tip to my own heart, until it realized I didn’t have one. Upon that recognition, it grew tame and pulsed with adoration in my hand.

I held it reverently in my right hand and took a deep breath. I might be a vicious, brutal witch, but I was still calling the Dark Sister and that was not something one did lightly. The blade flashed and sliced my left palm open. I quickly grabbed the blade with my left hand, then slashed my right hand as deep as the left, and finally placed the blade on the floor in front of me. As the blood spewed from my palms, I rubbed it over my body, covering myself in my beautiful black blood. I covered every inch of my naked body, then ran my blood-soaked hands through my hair.

I raised my arms over my head and spun slowly as I began my chant, “Dark Sister, you of evil and wrath; Dark Sister, creature of night and death; Dark Sister, come to your servant; Dark Sister, show me your power; Dark Sister, show me your splendor; Dark Sister, show me your pain.”

After only a few moments, I could feel her. My blood pulsed in agony and fear for the pain, my blood pulsed in joy and delight for the pain.

A black mist diffused from the throne. Smoky and stealthy, it rose from the enchanted seat and became a darkness that pulled at you, begging your core to come to it, seducing you with its need. The flames from the candles in the chamber were pulled into that blackness until the cavern was left in a pit of darkness. The dark roared in my ears, screams and shrieks of terror ringing in the hall, echoing and beating against its walls. Suddenly, a speck of illumination began to emanate from the throne: it was not light, but a visible darkness that shone and riffled in the deepness of the black. It grew larger, revealing the flickering shadow form of the Dark Sister now inhabiting the throne.

I prostrated myself before her.

Her voice was like a terror. Like a thorn. Like an entreaty. Like a prayer to my essence. “Cassandra Dragon Slayer,” she uttered my name and my body quivered in delight. “Once before you came to me for guidance. You did well with my counsel. Now, your very being is at risk if the Winnowwood awakens to her power.”

I did not need to speak. She knew my thoughts, but, of course, I did not know hers. I opened my mind completely and felt her utter potency in my brain like a cold, vicious spider rooting through my mind with needle-like claws.

“Yes, it is troubling that Ursula’s progeny broke the spell with the Winnowwood you fear. You should fear her—her powers are untapped, but so formidable it makes my mouth water to consider your plan to steal them. The prince has made things far more dangerous, increasing her powers to a degree that is transformative. You were wise to call me, my shrewd little witch,” she whispered as she filled my body with her presence.

I screamed as her intrusion into my brain became incredibly violent and brutal, but it was a scream of pleasure and Dark Sister knew it. I could feel the cruelty and malice in her actions, and I gasped in utter gratification. At last, I could feel her strategy placed into my brain as her offering for what she was about to do.

“Are you ready to compensate me for the comfort I have given you?” Her voice as cruel and cunning as the edge of a razor.

She made me speak my consent. “Yes!” I panted in pain.

In moments, I could feel her presence envelope me. My precious blood coating my skin would prevent my destruction, but it would not prevent what she would take—my very life force. It would not matter if I begged for mercy, nothing mattered but her insatiable appetite. She was upon me. Like a dark succubus, she imbibed on my essence. Licking and lapping until I fell into utter blackness.

I had no idea how much time had passed. A voice was trying to penetrate my consciousness. I heard it like a faraway whisper, “My witch! My witch!” it shouted. Francesca. I took some moments to consider what that meant. Slowly, I opened one eye and saw the dainty black leather boots in front of me. I turned my head, even that required tremendous effort.

I cleared my throat slightly. “Do you have what I need?” I murmured.

Her blue eyes were wide. “Yes. I have the room prepared and they are ready.”

I looked down at my hand, my skin now free of blood. She had taken that and so much more. My hand was now that of an ancient crone—misshapen knotted knuckles, translucent papery skin covered in ugly brown age spots. I shuddered with despair—this would take so much to come back from. I had barely two weeks before the Ball at Alganoun… I would be ready by then, I swore to myself. I would have to be.

“Twenty. I told you I needed twenty…” I shallowly gasped.

She nodded, her brown curls bouncing in the rekindled light in the chamber. She knelt. “Let me help you, my witch.”

“Wait,” I hissed, almost inaudibly. I crawled to my bone and Dreambreaker and returned them to their rightful places on my body. The small movement exhausted me, I panted with the exertion of it, but I felt far less exposed with them back in my possession.

It took some doing, but with Francesca’s support, I slowly stood as she placed a robe around my shoulders. She had one of her wagons waiting and helped me inside. Though I was on the edge of destruction, the plan in my brain—my gift from Dark Sister—throbbed in awe over its precision. It was inspiring, yet so simple. Just like the last time, when Dark Sister gave me the simplest but most lethal of ideas to seduce them, to implore them, to destroy them. Even though it was painful, I let out a gasp of pure delight.

I need some of your life force to heal me. Will you give it freely? Maybe I’ll make a witch of you yet.

Olive

Bart took my hand in his and gently squeezed as we walked down the hallway. His hand was calloused and firm, completely encompassing mine. “That’s a lovely color on you,” he said with a slow smile.

“Thank you.” I smiled shyly back at him and squeezed his hand in return. I could feel myself begin to blush. I was nervous, not in a bad way, but in an exciting-thrilled-down-to-my-toes kind of way. “Are we heading back to your hideout in the cave?” I kidded. I was taken to his hideout when his men had kidnapped me only a week ago—how things had changed.

“Funny you mention that as I will be returning there tomorrow to check in with Geraldo regarding a few things, but for today’s outing I thought someplace closer would be best. It’s a very special place to me and I think you’ll like it as well. In fact, you could say that this is my betrothal gift to you.” He looked at me with such feeling that it made my knees weak.

“How lovely,” I simply said. I could feel tears start in my eyes and I blinked them away. It still felt so foreign to me—this look of love. Not of adoration, not of adulation, but of love—for me. I squeezed his hand again, shyly smiling again as I did it.

“I hope it makes you happy when you see it, my dear one.” He squeezed my hand in return and gave me a charming smile. I could feel my blush deepen. “And please pay attention to how we arrive at our destination,” he said and smirked with a twinkle in his eyes.

I loved him calling me his dear one, it made my heart race with the joy of it. I squeezed his hand again and he squeezed back. I took a deep breath to calm myself, I had no idea holding hands could be so intimate. Of course, why would I know anything of romance? I had never held hands with a man before. It was so much more than I thought it would be, I had a stupid grin pasted on my face and I didn’t care one whit, I felt so happy.

We were now in his family’s private wing of the castle; we had passed the entrance where six armed guards appeared to be permanently posted. We strolled down the long main hallway in the interior of the wing, then made a right turn to a side hallway.

“If anyone ever asks you where you’re going, the staircase to the Royal Conservatory is at the end of this hall,” Bart said mysteriously. This must be quite a secret if he even planned for a diversion for me to use if I ever needed one.

After some distance, we took a left turn down a narrower hallway, its entrance half hidden by a large alcove accentuated with columns that housed a full suit of armor with various swords and weapons hanging on the wall behind it. I noticed Bart glance look over his shoulder right before we had made the turn. This was definitely something secret. The poorly lit hall ahead appeared to terminate at a dead end, but as we drew close, I noticed the beginning of a narrow staircase on the right that only descended.

I headed to the stairs to go down, but Bart pulled me back. He faced a narrow alcove directly across from the stairwell that was only about two feet deep, the walls of the alcove were covered in the same stone as the hallway. I looked over at him wondering what he was doing, but he only gave me a knowing smirk, then turned to look over his shoulder to again ensure there were no observers. He stepped into the alcove and bent down. “The round one, far on the right, with the greenish color,” he said quietly, then placed his palm against the smooth rock hidden in the shadows near the floor. He held it there for a couple of seconds. Suddenly, the short wall swung inward. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the darkness, then quickly shut the door behind us.

As I went through the doorway, I felt the orb jump against my bare skin under my dress. I placed my hand on top of it and it felt like it began to beat, as if a small heartbeat was now pulsing from it. What in the world was it doing? I couldn’t bring it out to where Bart could see it, I was supposed to keep it secret. All of these things I was supposed to keep secret! Why? Why couldn’t I share it with Bart? I took a deep breath and continued to follow him.

We were in another narrow hallway, but a dim light was shining ahead of us. “Where are we?” I asked in a hushed tone. The orb seemed to cozy up closer to my skin, as if it were trying to make a nest between my breasts and continued its tiny pulse.

“I knew you’d be able to enter!” Bart said smugly.

“Was there a concern?”

I could barely make out his gleaming smile in the faint light as he pulled on my hand. “Come with me and I’ll tell you.”

I followed him as he led me down the passageway that opened into an enormous room with no windows. I stopped in my tracks to take it all in.

There was a fire burning in a massive hearth on the right wall keeping the room warm and cozy. Two lavish but worn chairs upholstered in a deep green velvet were placed close to the fireplace. The room was well lit, with numerous wall sconces holding lit candles as well as multiple candelabras hanging from the ceiling casting a golden glow throughout the room. The far wall held books displayed from rich, rosewood bookcases detailed with ancient, intricate carvings. On the left side of the room was an enormous desk made with the same wood that matched the bookcases and possessed the same intricate carvings. Behind it was a large, detailed map that I definitely wanted to examine more closely as I did not recognize the land masses drawn. Off to the side in a corner was a low couch, perfect for an afternoon nap. I took some time to take it all in; the impact of the room was one of beauty and grace and of immense power, which seemed to exude from every object.

Somehow, I knew the room was enchanted because part of me felt like I had already been here before when I knew that was impossible. I put my arms over my head and slowly turned in circles because… it made me feel happy, it felt so magical, it was… simply marvelous. I stopped and turned back to Bart who grinned as he watched my foolishness. “This is the most wondrous room. What is it? A secret chamber of some sort?” I gushed.

Bart nodded. “That it is, and it does possess enchantments as well. See, you are not the only one with secrets of magic.” He said with a bit of smugness. “Though I must admit it is not my doing, but that of my ancestor.”

“Please tell me how this place exists.”

“Patience, Olive. For there is much to tell,” he said teasingly, knowing I was eager to hear it. “Over lunch?” Bart pointed to a table in the corner of the room set for two. I could smell something delicious, if the delectable aroma in the room was any indication.

I knew he had made all the preparations, done all of this for my pleasure. How ironic that less than a week ago he had set a similar table for my sister. Life was certainly full of surprises. I gave him my best smile. “I am starving, and it smells delicious.”

We strolled over to the table hand in hand. Bart pulled out my chair, then turned to a large basket. “Everything is ready.” He smiled at me and removed the covers from the dishes, revealing sumptuous plates of eggs, potatoes and tomatoes with hot rolls and honey. “Your mother said you do eat eggs.”

I nodded. “We’ve always considered the unfertilized eggs the chickens provide to us as a gracious gift on their part.” The seasonings smelled like tarragon and garlic; my mouth was watering. I poured honey on the roll and took a big bite, “Mm mm.” It was light, fluffy and delicious. I looked over to him. “Well?”

Bart buttered and honeyed his roll. “Where to start?” he mulled, then took a big bite.

“They usually say at the beginning,” I urged.

He nodded. “Indeed. I know you are aware of the story of my great-great-great, etcetera, etcetera, Grandmother Ursula?”

If only he knew of how I had met Ursula, how she had shared so many of her memories with me. Of course! That’s how I knew this place. It was her memories that stroked my thoughts, even though I couldn’t access the specifics right now, it still left me with this feeling of familiarity. I nodded. “Yes, she saved the Princess of Alganoun from a witch.”

“Exactly.” His eyes shone with anticipation. “This was her private retreat. She had it built, then placed all of the charms on it to protect it.”

I could feel my eyes grow wide as I listened. “This was Ursula’s?”

“Yes, her private refuge.” He smiled charmingly.

I reached across the table and clasped Bart’s hand in mine. “This is the best gift I have ever received.” My voice shook with emotion. Especially today, I thought to myself. All those books, perhaps it would give me the information I needed to fight the witch.

Bart leaned across the table and with his free hand, gently touched my face, trailing his index finger down my cheek. “I am so happy it pleases you.” As his finger traced down my face, I moved my face slightly to kiss his fingertip. It was such a special moment. For several seconds, I let the feeling of delicious anticipation in how wonderful my life would be with him flood through me. I was gloriously happy in that tiny piece of time.

Bart scooted his chair closer to mine, then placed both of his hands gently on my face, leaned in and kissed me. That perfect feeling of warmth and love filled me again as his lips touched mine. It felt like magic, how magic would feel if given physical form.

He gently pulled away, clasped my hands in his, then looked into my eyes. “Let’s set a date for the wedding, Olive,” he said quietly. “That is, if you haven’t changed your mind?” he added in that joking tone he so often used that I found so charming.

I stared back at him. My sister had no idea how I could love him so. Roseline had once described him as “an ugly frog of a man” because he was on the short side, probably only two or three inches taller than me. His face was not handsome, but I loved the ruggedness I found in it. He was losing his hair, but hair did not matter to me. It was in his kind eyes, in his welcoming smile, that I had found my love. I looked into those eyes and smiled. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

Bart laughed uproariously. “It would not be for me, my love. Never for me. But I believe we may need a bit more time to plan our royal wedding,” he said with a beautiful smile on his lips as he played with the fingers of my hand. Unfortunately, we do have obligations to our kingdoms, and we should fulfill those commitments.” He gave me an apologetic look, then kissed my hand.

I dreaded all of that—the pomp and ceremonies, all those people staring at me. I slowly smiled and said, “Then one of the things I shall wear on our wedding day is...”

He raised his eyebrows in question.

“… a thick veil to hide behind. I’m so tired of all the stares and smiles and smirks. I hate the idea of facing hundreds of people ogling me.”

“Has it been a huge burden?” His eyes showed his concern.

I took a deep breath. “I hate it, actually. They never see me. It makes me rather sad as I doubt they ever will.”

“I’m so sorry, Olive,” he said sincerely. “Sometimes, I wish I was truly that simple highwayman you first met. Then we could marry and live in the privacy of the cave for a lifetime, a simple life for a simple couple”—he gave me a dejected look—“but we are not that simple couple,” he said quietly.

“No, we are not.” I looked into those warm, brown eyes, “I can bear it as long as I have you to lean on.”

For several moments, we stared at each other as Bart stroked my hands in his.

“I will always watch over you,” he said, “as I know you will for me, as we already have. So, finish your lunch. I want to keep you healthy.”

As I continued to eat the delicious food, I remembered the comment he had made when he opened the door to the chamber. “What did you mean when you said—I knew you would be able to enter?”

“Ah, I forgot to finish that story,” Bart said. “You are in a very exclusive room. It is enchanted to allow only the Crown Prince or Crown Princess of Alganoun through that door.”

“Not the King or Queen?” I asked.

“Not if the King or Queen has an heir who is twelve years old or older. The day before I turned twelve, my father brought me here,” he paused briefly. “To tell the truth, I could tell he was rather sad when he told me that this room would now become mine. I think he loved sneaking away to a private retreat where no one could bother him.” He smiled demurely, “I know I’ll hate giving it up one day, but how lovely to have a son or daughter to give this to.” His eyes flooded with emotion. “The charms on this room allowed for only one owner of the room… until now,” he said as he placed his hand on my cheek. “Now, I will be able to share it with you.”

“But why did you think I would be allowed into the chamber?”

He pushed my hair back from my face. “Because you are a Winnowwood, my love. Somehow I knew that Ursula’s charms would allow you to enter.”

I grinned at him. “How utterly marvelous! A place of privacy within the castle walls. I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave,” I declared, and I wasn’t kidding in the slightest. How wonderful to have a private retreat only the two of us could enter. It gave me a feeling of tremendous relief to know this retreat would exist for us in the years ahead.

“I know you’ll be spending a great deal of time in this room, because one of the more inconvenient charms is that anything that is original to this room must stay in this room. I’ve tried taking books out and it will not allow you to go through the door. It will allow you to bring things back and forth that you bring with you, but not anything that was originally here.”

“That is rather inconvenient, but certainly a rule I can live with.” I glanced around the handsome room. “This is the perfect library.”

“It’s a wonderful collection of history, mathematics, geography, literature, science—”

I could not contain my desperation. “Anything on magic? Or witches?”

He gave me a small nod of understanding. “I’ve been through all of the books, and I am sorry to say there is nothing on those subjects.”

That was disappointing. Very disappointing. Still, I would not lose hope. Somehow, I knew Ursula would find a way to help me. A thought crossed my mind. “I wonder if I could bring Bear or Side Stripe in here?”

“Why don’t you start with Side Stripe?” he suggested. “He won’t draw as much attention, as we do want to retain our secret.” He gave me a crooked smile. “I’ll be away for the next couple of days, but I’ve told the guards that you are welcome to go anywhere in the castle, so they will not stop you. Feel free to explore the room thoroughly and when I return, we can exchange notes on our favorite things.”

Cassandra

The images in my head filled me with a delectable, vain pleasure. I could see myself as I made my spectacular entrance into the Grand Ballroom of Alganoun Castle: the train of my red gown trailing gracefully down the stairwell behind me like a river of blood, my breasts gently jostling, the men gawking, my skin luminescent, my lips succulent as ripe strawberries, my hair glowing and gleaming like rich ebony in the light. I let out a cackle of glee. That brought me back to reality—that cackle. The cackle of a crone! Twenty infans had made their offering to me. Twenty! I was barely living. No, that was not accurate. I felt well, tired, but well enough—I just looked like hell!

I breathed slowly, swallowing my misery, my disappointment. That greedy bitch had taken more than her fair share—far more. I held out my hand, which was no longer gnarled and aged, but it was not beautiful—it was not perfect—and I needed to be perfect! I huffed a breath in anger and snarled long and loud.

Francesca stepped in from the hallway outside my room. “May I assist you, my witch?” she cautiously asked.

“No!” I howled. I turned over and buried my head under my pillow. I knew I would need more sacrifices to obtain the beauty that I sought, but I also knew I had to wait. It was dangerous to feed too freely, too quickly. I had killed the maximum number of infans I could safely devour without endangering my own life. My spleen was amazing in its ability to rejuvenate my body, but even it had limits… I growled again, frustrated by the delay in my plans.

“Francesca!” I roared.

She immediately re-entered the room. “Yes, my witch.”

I could always rely on her to do her duty. “You’re wasting your talents here. I am well enough, so send someone else to mind me. I want you back at that castle spying on that princess! Do you understand?” I snapped.

“Yes, my witch.” She turned and disappeared.

I would not waste this time. You should never waste time, as you never knew what day would be your last. You know that don’t you? You know you could turn around and a witch could take you, end you, or perhaps save you. Do you need saving? Is that what you hope for?

Olive

I was eager for class to end—not that it was boring. Master Berthou had spent the morning reviewing the early history of the island and it had fascinated me. I felt so stupid for not knowing it already, but I would not blame myself. Father had limited my education; he thought a quick mind in a woman was not an attribute. Though Zahra complained about it bitterly, I thought King Ivan exceptionally wise for holding these classes and making them mandatory; everyone should want an intelligent, well-educated court. At least, that is what I would want for my kingdom.

My quill was busily recording notes on the topic, but it was hard to concentrate—I was going back to Ursula’s Retreat as soon as I’d made my escape from the others. I could hardly wait to explore, as I was praying it would give me the information I needed to deal with Cassandra Dragon Slayer—even her name made my stomach twitch with anxiety.

“Enjoy your day, ladies.” Master Berthou gave us a short bow, then walked over to me. The classroom emptied quickly as I began to gather up my things. Zahra and Roseline left without so much as a backward glance. Good.

“Did you receive the books I sent to you, Princess?” he asked.

I nodded. “Thank you so much, Master Berthou.” I had looked through a stack of six books that had awaited me on my table when I had returned from Ursula’s Retreat. One was a beautiful atlas of the world with hand-painted maps.

“I have quite a few more that I think you would be interested in, but I didn’t want to overwhelm your enthusiasm.” He gave me a slight smile.

“That is so kind of you, sir, but please feel free to send more, I have so much to make up for,” I said.

“I can tutor you privately whenever you are ready. As I said, an eager student is a Master’s greatest prize.”

As I stared at him, I realized that Master Berthou did indeed seem to be immune to my physical appearance. He had lived his life with a reverence for knowledge and my appearance seemed impervious to that virtue—it delighted me completely. I gave him a polite nod. “Thank you. I will do my best to not disappoint you.” Then I turned to go.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone jump back from the door—a someone who had been spying on me! I dashed to the door but found the hallway empty. Still, I had a feeling of unease. No, I was not going to think myself paranoid. Great Mother said to trust myself and right now, I knew someone was watching me. Now, to find out who and why—and I hoped I would find that answer in the Retreat.

I rushed down the hallway to get to my quarters, as I needed to drop off my things and pick up Side Stripe. I hoped there would be no problem with him entering Ursula’s Retreat, but given that it was Ursula’s Retreat, I felt certain he would be able to enter—after all, Ursula had also been the High Priestess of the Bestiallas, it only made sense she would allow animals to enter.

When I rushed in, I was greeted by far more of my friends than I had expected, there were at least thirty various birds perched on furniture throughout the room and well over a hundred mice gathered in a crowd near the fire. Bear sat in front of the fireplace next to Side Stripe with Grey Mouse and Brown Mouse next to him.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise. Hello, everyone,” I said warily. Silence greeted me. No one spoke, they all looked to Bear. “This can’t be good if you’ve all lost your tongues. What’s wrong?”

Bear cleared his throat with a sharp growl. “I believe your birds have located the witch’s hideout,” he said quietly.

I knew something was very wrong and was almost afraid to ask, “What’s the matter? Did she see them? Did she hurt any of the Bestiallas?”

Bear shook his head, “No, everyone is safe, and no one has actually seen the witch.”

“But then, what…” I gestured in confusion with my hands.

“Please sit down, Princess.”

Bear said it so earnestly that I immediately obeyed, knowing that he was about to tell me something awful, I could see it in his face. I sat down in the chair next to the fireplace and placed Side Stripe on my lap to comfort me as I stroked his coarse fur.

“The reason the birds are sure they have found the hideout is because they found an enchanted dead zone in the middle of the southern mountains that prevented them from entering. They were trying to establish its specific dimensions when they spied two wagons flying through the air—”

“Flying through the air?” I interrupted, my soul sinking like a stone.

“Yes, two enchanted wagons with twelve little girls in each,” Bear replied softly then gave me a few moments to let the words sink in.

The images in my head flashed to the stories I knew that witches kidnapped children then killed them and… I couldn’t bear to think of it. I breathed deeply to calm myself and continued to stroke Side Stripe, but tears filled my eyes and I couldn’t blink them back.

“Crow watched them descend and disappear into the side of the mountain. He was high overhead, outside the area of the enchantment,” said Bear.

“They came from south of the mountains,” Crow cawed.

I wiped the tears from my eyes. “But I thought there was only one witch? Why would she take so many children? Perhaps she is not alone,” I said with a shudder.

“Or perhaps she is making great magic and it has depleted her powers,” answered Bear.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe and my heart began to race. Side Stripe felt my anxiety and burrowed closer in my arms, nuzzling me and licking my hands. I knew he was trying to encourage me. Clear your head. You must act. Yes, I needed to act. I needed to bottle up the horror and work on our plan. I wiped the tears away from my eyes, again.

“We must operate on the information we now have. Great Mother said there was one witch, so one witch it must be. As you say, Bear, she must be using great magic to have such a need, which is certainly not consoling.” I turned to the mice. “And what have you to report about the castle, my little friends? How has your surveillance gone?”

Grey Mouse looked up at me, her eyes wide. “There are children in the castle who do not belong here, yet no one says anything about them to make them leave,” she stated, then ran over close to my foot. I picked her up and placed her on Side Stripe’s head. “But what is even more peculiar is I know the kitchen warden and she is a no-nonsense kind of woman and hard on her staff, but when the children come to her, she does whatever they say or gives them whatever they ask for.”

“That is very strange,” I agreed.

“I think they’re enchanted,” she whispered with a frightened look as her whiskers nervously twitched.

“How many are there?”

Grey Mouse thought about it for a moment, then held out both of her paws. “About this many.”

“And they’re all children?” I asked.

“Yes, all girls and all very pretty, too,” she said.

I looked over to Bear. “It seems that this witch has been quite busy if the castle has already been infiltrated.”

Bear growled low, “I am worried.”

This was all happening too fast, far too fast. I closed my eyes and placed my hand over the orb under my dress to calm myself. Come to me. I nearly jumped. It sounded like Ursula’s voice, I remembered it from the day I was transformed.

I looked at my friends in the room. “Thank you all for this important work, you have amazed me once again with your skills. Now, I must consider what to do, so please, give me a few days to decide on our next actions. For now, return to your homes and await my instructions.”

After I put Side Stripe and Grey Mouse back on the floor, I curtsied to them all, then turned and walked into my dressing room and closed the door. I pulled out the orb to examine it—it was black, totally black, but as I gazed at it, a lightning bolt shot through the orb and when the light dimmed the orb was clear as a crystal. Come to me. I clasped my hand tightly around it and immediately felt a feeling of peace flow through me.

I walked down the hallway, holding Side Stripe in one arm, and the box containing the Blade of the Winnowwood in the other. I figured Ursula’s Retreat was the best place to store the blade since only Bart and I could enter. I didn’t know if it would work on me anymore, that is, to rob me of my powers, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

Turning left, past the suit of armor, I moved stealthily to the end of the corridor. Like Bart, I turned to ensure no one was behind me, then knelt. I put Side Stripe on the ground, then placed my right hand on the round, green stone of the alcove—it snapped opened immediately. I stepped in with Side Stripe right behind me. Again, I felt the orb pulse with its light heartbeat against my chest. Why did it come alive when I entered this chamber? I knew it was trying to tell me something.

Closing the door quickly behind me, I grabbed Side Stripe up and gave him a hug of relief. “I knew Ursula would want you with me. After all, she was a High Priestess of the Bestiallas.”

“Who is Ursula?” he asked.

“The most powerful Winnowwood who ever lived,” I told him as I moved quickly down the narrow hall then emerged into the Great Room. Again, I was struck by the beauty of this room. From the exquisite, woven silk carpets on the floor, the intricate tapestries and striking paintings on the walls to the beautifully adorned candelabras hanging from the ceiling—every piece of furniture, every item seemed to belong to this place. It gave me such a feeling of peace, and today I needed that desperately. “This was her retreat; it’s enchanted as well.”

“Why are we here?” he asked solemnly.

“Because I’m hoping to find a way to fight the witch.” I placed Side Strip in front of the fireplace. As I watched the fire burning gently in the hearth, I realized it too must be enchanted because though it was a chilly day, the room was cozy and warm and all the candles in the room were lit. Since no one could enter this room, except for Bart and me, it had to be magic that lit the flames. I let out a deep breath, recalling what Great Mother had said, No one knows what’s possible.

First, I wanted to explore the room thoroughly. Knowing this had been built for Ursula gave me the feeling there would be far more here than what would meet the eye. I stood in the middle of the beautiful chamber and took inventory, growing more familiar with the space.

I decided to start at the desk, which was probably foolish as the descendants of Ursula had used it for over four hundred years, so why would anything important still be there? I sat down in the elaborately carved wooden chair and admired the craftsmanship of the maker—the intricate carvings on the drawers looked like runes that I had read about in a book about magic my mother had given me when I was a child. I did not remember much about them, or what they were used for. My fingers traced over them, and I felt a light humming on my fingertips. I wondered if there would be a book that would tell me of their meaning in this room? It might be useful. I quickly rummaged through the drawers, trying not to be too snoopy, but only found Bart’s papers, scrolls, and no unusual items.

Looking up at the wall, I studied the map that hung there. It was a peculiar map, which looked quite ancient, and I did not recognize the land masses depicted. I’d have to ask Bart about it when he returned or perhaps, I could find it in the book Master Berthou had lent me.

I took a deep breath, slightly frustrated, and headed to the bookcases. The books were all bound in thin wooden covers. I smiled, knowing Ursula’s books would not be bound in leather, not when an animal would have to die to produce the leather. Bart had claimed none of them pertained to anything magical. I pulled one out from the middle bookcase in the second row and leafed through it. It was a text on mathematics. I flipped through page after page and felt my face begin to burn with embarrassment—I had no idea what the author was talking about—so much knowledge I had never been exposed to—I felt so stupid. All those years wasted when I could have been learning. I was facing a witch who was over four hundred years old and here I was, only eighteen, practically uneducated, and given powers I had no idea how to fully use. I felt the orb pulsing heavier against my chest and pulled it out—revealing a swirling green mist inside a golden cloud. I closed my hand around it and felt calmer. It would do me no good to fill myself with anxiety over something that could not be changed.

Side Stripe was watching me as he lay in front of the hearth, concern showed on his face. I gave him a bit of a smile, “I’ve never had to fight a witch. It is rather disconcerting to say the least.”

“The Great Mother will not abandon you,” he said quietly.

How right he was. I needed to remember that, to cling to it like a prayer. I was not alone in this. I would have help. I sat down next to him on the luxurious rug and gazed into the fire as I stroked his fur. The orb thrummed against me, calming me, lulling me to sleep. I lay down on the carpet in front of the fire, pulling Side Stripe next to me, my right hand enclosed around the orb, and closed my eyes.

“Wake up, Olive,” I hear a soft voice calling to me and I open my eyes. There in the chair next to me sits a stunning woman with dark chestnut hair and magnificent emerald-green eyes smiling down at me. “I’m sorry my sisters and I were too generous in our gift of memories to you; we did not mean to harm you. I discounted how young you are. Great Mother was quite peeved with me.”

I sit up and stare at her a moment. She motions to the other chair with her hand. I know this is a dream, I can feel it somehow, but I also know that Ursula is here with me. I attempt to gather my wits as I sit in the chair opposite hers and try to remember all my questions. As I open my mouth to speak, she holds a hand up to silence me.

“I know you are afraid of Cassandra, but there are other things you must understand first.” She says it like a warning, so I wait to hear what she has to say. “Great Mother told you that you must learn to live in your strength. Do you understand what she means?” Her gaze is firm but not unkind.

My mind is whirling, I’m trying to come up with the words to express myself, to excuse myself, so finally I say, “No,” and a feeling of relief fills me for the honesty of it.

Ursula nods her approval. “It’s best not to pretend when we do not understand.” She gives me a slight smile. “I want to tell you a story, Olive, and I don’t want you to interrupt me until I’m finished, if you could do me that favor?”

“Of course.” I nod firmly.

“I have quite a long tale to reveal to you, but I’m not telling you everything today. Today, I want to focus on one part of my story—what happened when I lost my powers and became beautiful.” I watch her face and see the sadness in her eyes. “I had spent over a hundred years of my life as a Winnowwood, living with the Bestiallas, with my other sisters, and, for the most part, isolated from humans. The occasions when I did happen upon them…” she shook her head “I’m sure you know what happened.”

I fervently nod my head. “They were cruel.”

“I must admit that I didn’t like them very much either. They seemed a mean, shallow people only interested in their own concerns and mesmerized by beauty,” Ursula states coldly.

“Exactly! I feel that way too.”

“After I saved his daughter, King Adamair of Alganoun searched the country until he found me. Over the following weeks we became good friends. He was a very kind man as well as being quite well read and open-minded. We had wonderfully thoughtful conversations, he even managed to make me laugh.”

She shook her head, as if remembering the surprise of it all. “After some time, he told me that a Shaman had given him a gift for the Winnowwoods because we had freed the land from the power and torment of the witches. He said the Shaman told him that it would not affect any of our powers but would only change our appearance if we so desired to change. After a hundred years, my body showed the scars and marks of using our gifts. I was as hideous as you were, Olive.” She pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing.

“The King presented the blade to me in the same wooden box you now possess with the only instruction the Shaman had given, that I had to use it under the light of the moon so the moonbeams would fall directly onto my face. I thought about it for several days, then I let my vanity take over, justifying that nothing would change, except for my physical appearance.” She looks away from me and stares into the fire.

“That evening, the king and all the courtiers gathered in the courtyard because, after all, who wouldn’t want to see what would happen to ‘the monster’?” Her eyes flash back to mine. “Oh, Olive, I hated their looks of disgust, the smugness on their faces as they deemed me unworthy because of my physical appearance. I know you’ve experienced that as well.” She gives me a slight smile.

“When I touched that blade at last, my heart gave me a warning. I think it could feel the evilness that had created it, but…” she paused for several seconds as tears came to her eyes “I chose to ignore the warning of my heart because of my own arrogance and conceit—I wanted to be powerful and beautiful. And, as you know, I was a fool because I did lose my powers.”

For a moment, she looks down at her left hand—the scar of the small, white circle. “Weeks later, a Winnowwood told me the truth of the blade and the actual maker, Cassandra, via a Bear who had watched her create it. The witch told a simple lie to the king, which he believed, and I betrayed my own heart to gain the gift of beauty.” She looks me in the eye, and I can see the deep regret reflected there.

“Now, to get to the point of today’s story.” She takes a deep breath, then continues, “When I changed, as you may have guessed, the reaction of everyone around me was astonishing. These people who had despised me now gazed at me in adulation. Everyone bowed down before me, almost as if they were worshipping me. I remember when I turned to the king…” she pauses as she searches for the right words “… though he didn’t act like a silly nitwit like the others, I could tell that my beauty was so powerful, even he could barely speak in a rational manner. To tell you the truth, it made me angry, and I thought them all ridiculous and shallow.” She looks me in the eye. “I believe you understand that feeling, don’t you?”

I nod energetically. Someone who truly understands how I feel, at last! “Yes, I hate it! I feel like I’m on display. That I’m just a thing, and it infuriates me,” I hiss.

Ursula slowly nods, a knowing smirk on her face. “Yes, so I want to help you get past that and focus instead on finding your strength.”

That statement startles me. “But I thought you understood?”

“I do understand. Completely.” She nods kindly, her eyes holding mine with an assured understanding of my truth. “And for several years, I was rather mean and cruel to the people around me who were so very intoxicated with my new beauty. You see, I wanted to punish them for it. As the Queen of Alganoun, I despised my own people.” Her eyes focus tightly on me and don’t move. “Is it good for a Queen to despise her own people, Olive?”

“No, but you had reason. You were justified in your anger. They didn’t see you—only the shell!” The blood pulses in my veins, I can feel my face flushing red. Ursula only continues to stare at me, saying nothing. I can feel tears of frustration seeping from my traitorous eyes. “People should love you for who you are, not for what you look like,” I passionately declare.

Ursula gazes at me as if she, too, is studying my face. “How will any of your people love you when they can feel how much you despise them for looking at you? It is not their fault that you have been given this fearsome beauty. It is not their fault that they are astounded, mesmerized, hypnotized”—she smirks again— “or act like nitwits. They are human. They are simply human,” she utters quietly.

“From your perspective, you are still looking out at the world with the same eyes you have always had, but it is the people you have seen who were the real mirrors in which you saw yourself. You have gone from mirrors that told you that you were worthless, a joke, a curse, to these new mirrors who now attribute goodness, love, and perfection just because of the image they see, yet nothing has changed from your point of view—looking out at the world with the same eyes you have always used to look at the world.”

“But that’s exactly why I despise them,” I reply. “That it was never about me and who I was. It’s always about the shell and I hate that. I despise people who can only see that!”

Ursula maintains her calculated gaze. “So, you despise everyone,” she says with judgment. “You are a Princess of Rosemount and soon a Princess of Alganoun, then a Queen of both, and… you hate them.”

The tears now flow freely down my face. “They love a shell. A shell that has nothing to do with me!” I blubber, barely coherent.

Silence. Only my quiet sobs and the hissing of the fire break the silence of the room.

Ursula finally speaks in a calm, serene voice. “For years I punished them all for loving my shell when they knew nothing of me.” She pauses for a long moment. “I was haughty and cruel, smug and condescending; I became a woman I didn’t know at all. It nearly cost me everything,” she says quietly. “Then I finally realized, how were they to ever know me when I refused to show them who I was? That this shell was nothing. That who I was inside was my strength, but I had refused to even show them a glimpse of my true self because I had already judged them as undeserving. Who was truly at fault, Olive?”

I listen to her confusing words, replaying them in my head as I look down at my hands. Do I despise them? Yes. Do I show them who I am? No, they don’t deserve it, I hear myself answer. I have judged them all. I take a deep breath to calm myself. Yes, I have judged them as much as they have judged me. More tears spill from my eyes, then I look back at her beautiful face. “What did you do?”

“I forgave them. Then I forgave myself for being as judgmental as they were. Then I went back to being who I was. So, the key to living in your strength, Olive, is to be true to who you are and not let others influence that. Which also means being brave enough to show them who you really are without judging them as well.” She gives me a hopeful smile. “Do you now understand what Great Mother means when she tells you to live in your strength?”

I see the wisdom in her words, the empathy in her eyes. “Yes, Ursula. I do.”

“Remember, these are your people, your subjects. You need to fall in love with them. Find your strength, your generosity of spirit, your heart. Your people will become your strength if you let them,” she softly stated. “It took me a long time to realize that.” She reached her hand out to me and I took it.

“My hopes go with you, as you and I both know that there are many challenges ahead that you must face. Do not be afraid, for I will help you, but you must be strong if you are to succeed. Forgive them, Olive. Then forgive yourself.”

Her voice fades as I listen, and my eyes grow heavy. They close.

I opened my eyes and found I was still lying on the floor with Side Stripe wrapped in my left arm. He was staring up at me. “Were you dreaming?” he asked.

I smiled; a feeling of relief filled me. “Yes, I had a very special dream. Ursula was in it and gave me some exceptionally wise advice.”

“Then it’s good that you came here seeking answers. Did she tell you how to kill the witch?” he asked quietly.

“No, but she’s helping me find my strength,” I replied.

Side Stripe looked at me quizzically. “But I thought you knew how to do that already?”

“I thought I did as well, but I had forgotten something very important.”

He pricked an ear up. “What had you forgotten?”

I smiled at him. “That I have always admired kindness. That I have tried to be kind in my life, yet of late I see I have been far less than that to many people.”

“Maybe they deserved it,” he gave me the excuse I had used to justify my actions.

“If one is truly a kind person, it doesn’t matter how people treat you, it’s about how you treat them.” I hugged him close. “I had forgotten that. I was changing who I was in a ridiculous act to punish people who were innocent of their behavior.”

Side Stripe looked up at me, confused. “I don’t understand.”

I kissed him on his nose. “Neither did I. But now I do.”

I knocked on the door and waited. Moments later a lovely, young girl in servant’s dress opened the door to my sister’s rooms. I looked her up and down. She could only be about twelve years old, yet she had a maturity about her that did not belong in a child’s body. She had silken blond hair pulled back from her doll’s face. Her inquisitive blue eyes measured me as quickly as I measured her. Something was off with this child.

“Olive! What are you doing here?” My sister, wearing an exquisite pink silk dressing gown, sauntered up behind the girl. “I see you’ve met Talia, my new handmaiden.” Roseline’s hair was half up, half down, with a multitude of pins poking out from her head. “She’s incredibly gifted with hair styling,” she said, answering the question of her hair’s dishevelment.

Talia held the door open for me and I entered the suite. The air was a feast for the nose: the fragrance of expensive perfumes and luxurious flowers filled the air. Roseline had already made her mark on the rooms—the chairs were covered in pink and cream silks, gossamer veils of white swirled over her bed covered in an extraordinary hand-embroidered cream coverlet. Several gowns, gleaming rich brocades with intricate stitchery, lay across the backs of chairs. Roseline watched my eyes taking it all in.

“You know how I love to prepare for a ball,” she giggled.

I ran my hand along one of the ball gowns—pale baby blue silk with deep rose trim; it was lovely. “As I told you, Sister, you will assuredly be the belle of the ball.” I turned to look at Roseline’s lovely face. “Be careful, Zahra may be unhappy with the competition since it’s supposed to be her night,” I smiled cautiously.

Roseline patted at her hair self-consciously. “I’m sure they’ll be enough men to go around for as many as we’ve invited,” she giggled. She grabbed my hand and led me to the settee in front of the fire. “I’m surprised to see you, Olive. You’ve been so preoccupied of late.”

I sat down next to her and clasped her hands in mine. “I am here to beg your counsel.”

Roseline raised her eyebrows. “Well, that’s quite a surprise.” She turned to Talia. “Could you please fetch us tea and biscuits? I want to savor this experience as it is new to me,” she giggled again. Talia quickly departed. It worried me that she perfectly fit the description of the girls Grey Mouse had told me about, but I put that out of my mind for the moment.

“Sister,” I began, “I regret that I have not become better acquainted with the other ladies of the court and I was hoping you would help me to get to know them better.”

Roseline’s eyes widened. “I’m amazed, Olive, truly. It seemed like you thought them all ridiculous and beneath your concerns.”

I let out a sigh of annoyance with myself. “I am sorry if that was the impression I gave. I haven’t felt well these past few days, and I’ve had a lot on my mind, but they are certainly not beneath my concern.” I looked down at my hands, still embarrassed over my past behavior, then looked her in the eye, “Would it be too much of an imposition for you to help me?”

Roseline paused for a moment. “We don’t have class tomorrow. Why don’t we invite them all for tea in our parent’s suite? Their sitting room is certainly large enough to host them all comfortably and I’m sure Mother would love to help.”

“That would be perfect,” I answered. I could see the surprise in Roseline’s face. “I love your new hair style,” I giggled.

Roseline giggled as well. “Yes, I’d certainly be setting a new trend, wouldn’t I?” She began to pull the pins from her hair.

“You would still not be at a loss for partners. Nothing could hide your beauty.”

Roseline looked at me with more kindness than I could remember. “Nor yours, Sister.”

As Roseline began her lesson on the names and traits of the ladies of the court, I realized how I had misjudged my sister. She was far savvier in her depiction of these women than I would have imagined. All those years of hiding in the forest with my friends, I had not given it a moment’s thought that Roseline was probably hiding watching the interactions at my father’s court.

“Aisling is a bit chunky. You may have noticed how Zahra embarrassed her in class the other day?” She paused for a moment.

“Yes. Zahra’s tongue seems to be her primary weapon of choice,” I said.

Roseline nodded. “Yes, but I think it’s only because she’s so dreadfully unhappy. She strikes out wildly because she is so bitter that she will not be the queen. It seems to control all of her actions.”

I nodded again, but in my head, I was beating myself up. I had been far too smug in my assessment of my sister, as I had so many others.

“Anyway, Aisling pretends she is enslaved to her love of eating because she is betrothed to an older lord she would prefer not to marry, and it seems he despises fat women. She is hoping it will put him off her and free her from the match, which is to occur next summer, if he doesn’t change his mind. I think she means to gain another twenty pounds by then.” Roseline laughed, but not meanly.

Talia reappeared carrying the tea tray. She moved with grace, not like a child. Her eyes flickered to me as if she felt my inspection. I nodded pleasantly to her, then turned my gaze back to my sister detailing another lady of the court.

“Lady Alfreda is probably the funniest of all of the ladies, though Princess Valora is quite witty as well,” she said with a grin. “I’ve never known either of them to be gloomy, but then we haven’t known them for long, have we?”

“If I didn’t know better, it would seem you’ve known them all your life,” I replied honestly.

“I always loved the world of people, and you always loved your world of animals.” She looked over to me as she prepared her tea. “I don’t mean to judge, it’s just what was in our nature.”

“No, you’re not judging. That was my preference.” I could see how poorly I had developed my social skills with people. I felt like a neophyte in my sister’s world.

Roseline must have read my mind. “Fear not, sister. I will stay by your side tomorrow and ensure that by the end of the afternoon, you will know all of the ladies of the court far better.”

Cassandra

I hated looking like this—old! I had foolishly looked in the mirror and was immediately disgusted by the reflection: a body in decline, a face that held no beauty and… wrinkles. “Francesca!” I growled as I compared my present image to what I had looked like three days ago—I was nothing but a wretched hag. I tried not to think about it, instead I focused on my plan for revenge. An ancient book was on the desk before me: Legends of the Witches and the Winnowwood of the Borealis Kingdoms—my gift to her.

“My witch,” a voice softly stated.

I looked up. Lovely little conniving Francesca stood patiently waiting. “Did you get the invitation?” I demanded.

She held out a piece of embossed stationery with the King’s seal at the top, “Talia is serving Princess Roseline, who is assisting Princess Zahra in organizing the event.”

“How very clever of her,” I smirked. “Make sure Talia sends me a listing of all of the invited guests and gives you as much information about each of them as possible.”

“Of course, my witch.”

I looked at Francesca. At this moment, her beauty grated on my nerves like a dull saw. I handed her the book. “This is very precious. Make sure she gets it, but is not suspicious of it,” I said in a steely tone.

To be cautious, I would wait one more week to give my spleen a chance to rejuvenate before I would accept more sacrifices. My rage against Dark Sister for extracting my very life force to such a dangerous degree was only offset with the compensation of her plan to kill the Winnowwood in the most beneficial of manners. If all went well, I would become the most powerful witch in the history of the Borealis Kingdom. No, that was not accurate. I smiled to myself knowing the truth of it—I would become the most powerful witch in the history of the world. It would certainly be worth my sacrifice.

“I haven’t visited Alganoun Castle in over a hundred years. Update me on their security measures,” I ordered Francesca. I certainly felt well enough for a small errand to move the process along and it would feel good to fly.

As the wind whipped at my face in the cold crystalline air, I breathed in deeply. It felt so good to be on my bone speeding through the air, it filled me with pleasure. The waning moon cast minimal light in the night sky, hiding my presence from all of “them”—the animals that sought me out. Francesca told me that birds had watched her when she had traveled with the children and the castle was overrun with mice spying on everyone for the princess. No matter. Let the games begin, Princess.

In minutes, I spied the sleeping giant that was Alganoun Castle guarding the lands in the valley below. I sped towards the main gate, having no fear of any of them as I could control them so easily, but tonight, I would be a shadow. I landed silently at the edge of the trees and moved quickly towards the gate.

With one wave of Dreambreaker, I became a shadow, a black spot in my image, lurking on the ground. It was the way a witch could travel into any room, silently as death. Unfortunately, one could not use any magical powers in this form, but it was rare to find anyone savvy enough to catch a witch in this vulnerable shadow form. It felt like you were made a breeze on the air, and I moved quickly through the gates of Alganoun with no one the wiser. If anyone had become suspicious, I would merely have my shadow join theirs—that’s why this was an easy way to move, even in the daylight—but tonight, there was nothing to stop me.

I floated down to the lowest levels of the dungeon past all the guards. It was quiet as a tomb. What a waste. I’d keep someone on the rack and torture them every night just to hear their screams of pain to improve my mood. These people were far too soft to rule this kingdom—that would change in the very near future.

I approached the isolated cell of Prince Dagna and slipped under the door. The cell was dank and drafty, but there was a small fire burning in the hearth that kept it warm. He was sleeping in a bed with sheets and blankets and a soft pillow for his head. These weak men who treated an enemy so well. If King Viratrex had captured them, their heads would be on spikes outside his gates. If I had captured them, you know what I would do – there would be screams.

“Awaken, Prince Dagna,” I said firmly.

His eyes flashed open as he hurled himself out of the bed, ending in a crouched standing position, prepared to fight. His head snapped back and forth looking for the enemy.

I was delighted to see he slept in the nude: such a gorgeous, muscled body to admire tonight. “Your father sent me to speak to you.”

He was young and handsome, his blond hair hung loose to his shoulders. His eyes nervously searched the cell. A split second of fear crossed his face, and just as quickly he tried to hide it. “Is that you, Cassandra Dragon Slayer?”

I paused. Oh, what a smart boy he was. I let a few more seconds pass. “Yes,” I whispered and returned to my physical form, cloaked in my hooded cape, my features hidden from his searching eyes.

“What could my father have to say to me?” he said with loathing. “I’m sure he’s eagerly waiting to separate my head from my shoulders since I had the cheek to be captured by our enemy.”

“You would be wrong,” I said.

His eyes flickered with confusion, clouding his expression. “I do not believe you.”

“Your three brothers were killed in the invasion, and you are the sole remaining heir.”

He dropped onto the bed, his hands over his face as he breathed in deeply to control himself. Finally, he spoke, “Praise the Gods to have blessed me so!” He said it with such vehemence that I immediately liked him; the loss of his brothers was nothing to him—not when it would make him king. He looked back up, his eyes now twinkling with joy. “What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I will gladly do it.”

“Why would you speak in such a frivolous manner, Prince?” I scoffed. “You have no idea what I may demand from you.”

“In one sentence, you have taken me from a fourth son with no future and given me a destiny where I will be king. Why would I not want you in my debt if there is something I could assist you with now?”

A very smart boy indeed. “Then listen closely,” I said.

Dagna knew where power lay. With me. Do you understand me yet? Would you have sacrificed to the Dark Sister? Would you have allowed the assault, the pain, the suffering? I didn’t think so. Coward.

Olive

I stared into the light of the fire and played the events of yesterday’s tea party back over in my mind. Roseline had declared it a great success, but I felt like an utter failure. Initially, I’d been rather put off when the conversation seemed to focus on Zahra’s upcoming ball and what they would wear, who would be there, and especially how many single men of noble blood would be on hand, including all the details of their age, temperament and wealth. As I was mentally checking out of the conversation, Roseline gave me a sharp elbow in my side and an encouraging look to be more engaged. So, I had tried.

After listening more closely to their stories, it had hit me like a thunderbolt—these women had no freedom; they could not make their own choices—they were simply slaves in expensive gowns. As Zahra had implied previously at dinner, they were merely pawns to their fathers’ ambitions, these men who used their daughters like game pieces to improve their own positions in the kingdoms.

Of course, they could speak of nothing else. This ball could prove to be the opportunity of a lifetime—why shouldn’t it be their primary focus? Fewer than half of them were betrothed, so this gave those women the chance to find a match that might be pleasing to them, as well as their fathers; a rare opportunity for the chattel to find a bit of happiness. It made me grit my teeth and feel like an utter imbecile.

I had always identified myself as a Winnowwood and the tradition of the Winnowwood was to be a strong, powerful woman. At least, that is what my mother had taught me, and certainly Ursula and my dead sisters seemed to possess that same opinion regarding the issue. Now I was a Queen in my own right, High Priestess of the Bestiallas, and perhaps a Queen of Rosemount and Alganoun in the future, but these women had none of that. They had all been taught that their value was based entirely on their fathers’ wealth and their physical looks with a dash of wits to finagle the best match possible for their families’ honor and benefit.

I certainly knew how it felt to be judged solely on one’s appearance, and I hated it. No wonder they focused on dancing, dressing and flirting, it was their only route to some sense of power and independence. My soul was on a low boil the rest of the afternoon as I finally let myself understand, to open my eyes to their oppression, and my own. This could not be our future.

So, I had learned the names of the ten ladies: Zahra and Valora, I already knew, but in addition to Aisling the chubby, and Alfreda the wit, there was: Eyla the shy, Crima the studious (I looked forward to speaking with her at length), Sabine the gossip, Goda the peacemaker, Wymarka the tomboy, and Aldith the charming—at least those were the titles I gave them when I had a chance to speak with each of them. I looked forward to getting to know them better and discover who they were beyond my stereotyped first impressions. I now looked at Aisling’s eating rebellion with a bit of awe as she tried to eat her way to freedom from a disastrous marriage.

Why had I not considered this all before? I was the one who was shallow and self-involved. I let out a long breath of exasperation over my own past behavior. I had spent my days in the glen with the Bestiallas who always loved and accepted me. I had hidden in my world and ignored the realities of this one. I leaned my head back against the chair, disappointed over my own past actions, and gazed at the ceiling.

There were no windows in Ursula’s Retreat, yet high in the air overhead, a tiny shaft of daylight cut across the rafters of the room. Where in the world did that originate?

I stood up, held my arms over my head. “Anhelo Eximo Selasphorus Rufus Winnowwood,” I intoned, and became a hummingbird. Up towards the high peaked ceiling I buzzed, following the ray of light. Above the rafters I soared until I found it—a hole about the size of a large egg formed into the three-foot thick stone wall, half hidden behind a wooden beam. I peered into the hole and darted inside. Already the sun had shifted in the sky and was no longer lighting the room. I was fortunate to have looked up when I did, or I never would have seen it.

I flew through the hole and emerged into the air on the west side of Alganoun Castle high over a private courtyard of the Royal Family. When I turned to look back at the hole I exited, I could barely make it out—it was disguised in the mouth of a roaring granite griffon in an embellished cornice that decorated the castle’s exterior.

Oh, Ursula, you are so very clever. Of course you would build an escape route for a Winnowwood, even if you had lost your powers. After a short look around, I flew back into the Retreat and decided to take advantage of my wings and explore the heights of the secret chamber carefully. I buzzed along the walls, looking for any additional holes or secrets, but found nothing. From this vantage point, I could see the room was primarily shaped like a long rectangle, with a significant cut-out in the rear of the room that shortened that end. I wondered what was on the other side of that awkward wall. I flew to the ground and turned back into my human form.

I considered if Ursula would speak to me again if I fell asleep. I certainly wouldn’t mind a nap; socializing was so exhausting for me. I lay down in front of the fire on the silken carpet and closed my eyes. I tried to calm my mind, to forget how confused I felt about how I had lived my life and judged so many people, just as they had judged me. I tried to focus on Ursula’s and Great Mother’s advice to live in my strength. In a few minutes, I drifted off to sleep.

Soft lips brushed against mine. Velvet kisses caressed my face, sending powerful electric pulses through my body, which felt exquisite. My arms wrapped around him and drew him close as I responded to the delicious kisses. My lips parted, and I pulled him to me, hungry for his touch, wrapping myself tightly around him. I didn’t know where my dreams ended and reality began as Bart passionately aroused me with his caresses. His body was warm and muscular against mine, my hands wrapped around him, holding him close. I was getting lost in the kisses, in his touch, in his warmth. The shock of it finally hit me—I had to stop. “I forgot myself,” I panted and pulled back from him, breaking the embrace.

“I’m sorry, Olive. I don’t know what happened.” Bart looked as confused as I felt as he rolled off of me to his side. “I saw you lying there and couldn’t find the will power to resist kissing you and then…” His voice broke off as his eyes searched for mine.

I smiled. “Yes, and then…”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. Finally, I cleared my throat. “I’ve never kissed anyone but you, Bart. Is this how it is? When you touch me”—I nervously looked away from him— “I feel like flying, it is so powerful. Is this how it is when one kisses?”

He gently stroked my face. “I’m not very experienced myself, Olive. But I have kissed a few other women in my life”—his finger traced my lips—“and it has never, ever felt like this, my love.”

“My sister told me that people say we are enchanted by the other,” I whispered.

His eyes stared into mine, open and honest. “I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I do know that I love you. I love you with my entire being.” He paused for a moment. “And it is not because of your new physical appearance. There is something I feel when I am with you, Olive, that I have never felt in my life.”

I traced his face, his nose, his lips. “I feel the same.”

He turned his face to kiss the finger that trailed his lips, then smiled. “It will be difficult to wait for our wedding. Perhaps we should do as you suggested and get married tomorrow.” He grinned devilishly at me as I laughed. “For now, we should probably change for dinner. Our families are dining together tonight.”

I smirked at him. “How lovely. An evening with Zahra trying to rationalize why I should help her steal your throne.”

“Indeed, she will do that, and more, I’m sure.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “They’ll even be a new person for you to meet that you may find interesting.”

“Who is that?”

“Prince Dagna,” he enunciated the name like a disease.

“The Druzazzi Prince? Why would you have him dine with us? I’d think he’d rather kill us all than break bread with us.”

Bart nodded. “That’s what I thought as well. But when I got back this afternoon, there was an urgent request from him asking to meet with me. I did. He asked that we consider giving him clemency and allow him to settle in our lands.”

I stared at him. “But that doesn’t make sense. They are such a blood-thirsty lot. How could we ever trust him?” I paused for a few moments. “Could you ever trust him?”

“Certainly, not today,” Bart said with a shrug. “He says he has information that will prove his motives sincere.”

The Druzazzi always put fear in my heart and I dreaded meeting with any of them. “What kind of information?”

“The kind that would betray his king.”

“So, he’s a traitor as well?” I said with disgust.

“Perhaps. Perhaps he’s only attempting to manipulate us for his own purpose,” he said solemnly.

“And what purpose would that be?” I queried nervously.

Bart looked at me intently. “That is exactly what we need to figure out.”

When he strolled into the room, Roseline nearly swooned. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Zahra take keen notice as well, though she kept her behavior firmly in check. Even little Valora, who had been talking to me, momentarily lost her tongue.

I had to admit, given human standards, he was a beautiful specimen—he stood well over six feet tall, his eyes were such a deep blue they appeared violet, his golden hair hung loose past his shoulders, his body was hard-muscled and impressive in his black dress tunic, even his teeth gleamed a perfect white as he grinned, taking us all in with a measured gaze. Unfortunately, he then made a beeline for me and bowed deeply before me for far longer than customary.

When at last he stood, he gave me his most beguiling smile. “You must be the princess all the kingdoms are all speaking of—the most beautiful woman in the world—Princess Olive of Rosemount?” The lazy smile left on his face verged on the indecent.

I nearly froze in shock from his overt attention but gathered myself. “I’m unsure of those accolades, sir, but I am Princess Olive.” I curtsied quickly in response, my eyes searching for Bart in the crowd. My eyes met his; he had been speaking with my father across the room but headed directly for me.

“I do not know what your courtesies are at this Court, but if I may be so bold as to introduce myself, I am Prince Dagna of the Druzazzi.” His eyes brazenly took me in, making me want to shrink in discomfort as he observed every detail of my physique. “May I say, my lady, that the rumors were not overstated.” He said it in such a familiar manner that I could feel my face blushing a deep shade of red. I cursed my own inability to not give myself away.

“My dear, I see you’ve met Prince Dagna,” Bart said as he gave me a quick look, noting my discomfort. He turned to Prince Dagna, who shifted his posture, giving the full impression that he was looking down at Bart.

I placed my arm on Bart’s. “Yes, my love,” I said clearly, “he has let me know who he is.”

Prince Dagna’s face grinned in astonishment at us. “It appears someone has already claimed your heart, Princess,” he said, adding in a mocking tone, “How desperately sad that makes my own.”

This ridiculous demonstration by Dagna left me with the feeling that something was off. “Indeed, that is true, Prince, for I am most happily betrothed to Prince Bartholomew.”

In a movement that only someone who has been beautiful and adored all of their life could make, Dagna managed to gather himself into a godlike stance and peer down at Bart as if he were nothing. “How amazing.” It was a devastating attack.

Though I knew what a strong man Bart was, I could still see him flinch. It was almost imperceptible, but I could feel the wound. I gripped his arm tightly. “Darling, perhaps you should introduce him to our sisters? Surely, they would enjoy meeting our new guest.” Both Roseline and Zahra had drifted over to stand next to Valora and all eyed the Prince. I smiled pleasantly, then turned to search out my mother, who had watched everything from across the room.

I stood next to her as we watched the introductions, the girls’ beaming faces and Dagna’s smirk and charm. “I can’t believe I’m in a room with a Druzazzi without a sharp knife in my hand,” I whispered to her.

“Yes. Something’s unusual with him. It’s so odd to see a Druzazzi so glib and amiable, those are not traits they usually possess.” Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. Roseline was laughing with delight over something he said. “I wish Roseline was not so in love with what her eyes see,” she murmured.

Given the past day’s events, I knew my sister was not as foolish as she appeared. “Perhaps she’s only playing the same game as he.”

“I’ll hope that’s true,” she replied.

Bart rejoined us, and I immediately asked, “How is it that this Druzazzi has the manner of a courtier? Most can barely form a coherent sentence.”

“He lived with Prince Victore in Cisalpenia the past four years,” he quietly replied.

“Four years?” I said. “They were plotting for four years?” I tried to keep my face unemotional but failed.

Mother looked at me stonily. “Don’t be surprised, Olive. Treachery is often a long game where only the most patient gain their rewards.” She then moved to speak with father to give us privacy.

“Did I not tell you he was more intriguing than one might think?” Bart asked, managing to retain a joking tone in his voice.

“That’s a kind way to put it,” I said flatly.

“Are you immune to his charms?” He looked at me with his lopsided smirk.

I stepped in closer to him. “I am in love with a man that puts Dagna to shame.” My voice broke slightly, his eyes glistened with the same emotion I felt. I entwined my arm through his. “For all we know, this is part of his plan. Let’s not let him trouble us.” I smiled my best smile at him. “Let us leave that to our sisters.”

We both glanced over at the three of them doing their best to amuse him, even Zahra was batting her eyes at him. We looked at each other and laughed.

Cassandra

He writhed and convulsed on the lush carpet, his face contorted in pain as saliva dripped from his mouth. I smiled down upon him. It was always so easy to entrap them; after all, I was a five-hundred-year-old witch with all the experience and power that intimated. The power of Captivation—enslaving a human to one’s will—was one of the great powers of witches. Yes, those Winnowwood could make lightning and do so much more in the natural realm, but I could bend a human to my will with ludicrous ease. With one thought, the count became stiff as a board.

I examined him as he lay there in his fine clothes with a blank look on his face. He was tall and still strong for a man in his fifties, his trim, grey-streaked beard was now flecked with bits of spittle, his blue eyes were clear, his body still firm. Yes, he would do quite nicely as my patron. “Tell your staff I am your niece, Lady Astria Amalthea, from the Continent. My father, your younger brother, recently died and you brought me here to be part of the Alganoun Court. Do you have any questions, Uncle?”

His eyes came to life, and I could see the paltry battle going on in his mind as he tried to fight me. As if that could work, fool. I gave him a minor tickle of pain and he drew himself into the fetal position, screaming. I stopped the screams with a thought—his mouth remained open, but only silent screams now escaped.

“Really, Count. You don’t want to alarm the staff, do you?” I tightened my hold on his mind and he gasped in pain, twitching and groping spasmodically. I watched him writhing, enjoying his gasps of agony and the vicious convulsions of his body. Finally, I released him. He flopped over on his back like a dead fish. I stood over him, my eyes piercing him to his soul. “You will behave,” I hissed.

He nodded. “Yes, Niece,” he panted.

“Glad we have that resolved. Now, get up and give me a tour of my new home.”

I didn’t even need my wand for this—I pulled him up with the power of my will. He jerked to a stand in front of me like an uncoordinated marionette. As he would be operating independently of me at times, I needed to ensure he would always behave. I inserted the tip of Dreambreaker into his ear canal and another scream came roaring from his throat, then stopped precipitously without making a sound. I withdrew the wand and looked into his eyes—yes, he was now tamed and enslaved, ready to be my faithful, loving uncle at all times.

He took a moment to gather himself, slowly took out a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped the spittle from his beard. He turned to me, a polite smile now possessing his face. “This way, Niece.”

I glanced in a massive mirror as we passed—I looked my fabulously beautiful self again and he looked like he could be my uncle. Yes, Francesca had found the perfect estate for me to begin my attack and his manor was only a ten-minute ride from the palace, yet the grounds were immense and private. I could hardly wait. The ball was tomorrow evening, and I was more than eager to get started.

Filled with anticipation, I floated down the stairwell of the darkened dungeon wondering how successful he had been in his mission. I slid under the door into the dimly lit room and moved close to his bed. I emerged from my shadow, standing fully present in my glorious body, still clothed in a rich, black hooded travelling cape. I studied his sleeping face—he was beautiful. Even after these many centuries, physical beauty still affected me. I was still a creature of needs. And tonight, I was a stunningly spectacular woman in need of some attention. I crossed the room, standing close to the fire, and focused on the business at hand.

“Awaken, Prince Dagna,” I ordered.

His eyes flashed opened, but this time, he did not leap from the bed, he knew who was here. Though he had not seen my physical body during the last visit, he was sure of the voice. “I was wondering if you would come back,” he calmly stated, his muscles rippling in the firelight as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

I took a deep calming breath, trying to contain my own eagerness. “Tell me of your progress,” I murmured huskily.

A flicker of worry crossed his face. “I have only been partially successful.” He raised his muscled arms and placed them behind his head, displaying his magnificent chest to full advantage—the chest that would soon be pressed against me. I licked my lips in anticipation, the hood of my cape hiding my face and its longing from him.

“Continue,” I purred. His eyes searched for mine in the darkness, but I did not move, I gave nothing away. He was nervous. Good. He must never doubt my power over him.

“Princess Olive seems immune to my charms. She and Prince Bartholomew are betrothed, she would barely speak to me,” he said with frustration. “The other sisters at the dinner were mine for the taking.”

I considered his words. Princess Olive and Prince Bartholomew had clearly touched each other already. I took a deep breath to calm my mind, and my desire, as I pondered the situation. “Were they entwined? Did they seem unable to leave the company of the other?”

“No. When I entered, they were on opposite sides of the room,” he said.

A feeling of relief passed through me; they had no idea of the magic they were flirting with, the magic I was gambling would not be truly understood before I could steal it. Thank the Dark Sister for their ignorance. “Were you able to finagle an invitation to the ball?”

He grinned in satisfaction. “From the birthday girl herself,” he said with marked conceit. “She’s working on moving my living quarters as well.” He smiled devilishly.

“Remember what you are to achieve at the ball. I will call you to me at the appropriate time, so ensure you are focused on your task,” I said seductively, baiting him with my voice.

“How will I recognize you, Cassandra Dragon Slayer?” he replied with a slight edge in his voice. I knew what that edge meant—his nervousness of what was hiding under this cape. He knew of me from my capture by his father when I was a crone, he knew to be afraid, he knew I could kill him with a breath.

I turned from the fire and faced him. Letting my cape fall to the ground, I revealed my sumptuous, nude physique, back lit by the fire. “I think your eyes will not forget me.” I shuddered with pleasure, the pleasure of revealing my perfection to him and of the hungry look now in his eyes

Throwing off his blankets, he quickly stood, revealing himself to me in all his glory. My mouth watered in anticipation as he strode over to stand so close to me, I could feel the heat ripple off his body, my breasts trembled with desire.

His eyes met mine. I could see the slight nervousness almost covered by that rare masculine confidence of one so perfect. Never losing eye contact with me, he knelt. “How may I serve you, Cassandra Dragon Slayer?”

Gazing down at him, my body pulsed with delight, quivering in anticipation for what was about to happen. Grabbing his long hair with both hands, I pulled him close and growled. “You can serve me, Prince. You can serve me well,” I hissed as his lips found my body. Like a caged animal finally set free, I released myself to my desires. Jealous? You should be.

Olive

It could not have been more amazing to watch—the immense herd of deer, numbering well over a thousand strong, thundered north through the newly fallen snow as one. With one thought from me, each turned like a mirrored image of the other and headed west. It was like a murmuration of starlings, incredibly precise in coordinated movement. I could control them mentally, without saying a word, as if it were nothing.

I had been under the assumption that my only powers lay with the simple charm my mother had taught me that always began with, “Anhelo eximo.” Which she had told me meant: I desire to release. Now, I had come to find out that was the simplest spell available to a Winnowwood, one that was taught to children as they began to master their powers. That made sense when I considered Grandmother had died when Mother was only six. It was the only spell she knew. It had been the only spell I ever knew until the book—the amazing book Master Berthou had left for me: Legends of the Witches and the Winnowwood of the Borealis Kingdoms. The gift of that book… I had no words to describe my gratitude. In the short span of ten days, it had opened the world to me and taught me so much about my powers that I was utterly incredulous that a simple book could have done this for me. What more would I discover?

I stood on the hilltop, looking out at the deer in the valley below. Thank you for your help, my friends. I will see you again soon. With that parting thought, I released them. The herd immediately stopped their run; some deer lingered to forage, some entered the woods, but they quickly broke up and went their separate ways.

The evening I had returned from the dinner where I had met Prince Dagna, I had found the book on my nightstand, with the others Master Berthou had lent me. I had begun perusing it immediately and it had barely left my hands since. As I read it, I became rather peeved that Great Mother had taken the gift of memories my Winnowwood sisters had bestowed upon me. I’m sure it would have included all of these spells and enchantments, but she didn’t think I was strong enough. I would prove her wrong.

I had learned that much of my power was simply related to the intensity of my thoughts, I just had to be focused and strong. It had directed me to pick a phrase that was meaningful to me to help find the center of my power and that those words would anchor and magnify my power. It had seemed rather foolish upon first reading, but I had selected my own words, then I looked for a test subject - a colony of ants. My doubt left me when I watched them all march out of their hill home onto the path I desired. Then I selected a large group of mice and achieved the same results as I ran them about the castle in columns of two. And now, the deer.

I had compared thinking the spells and shouting the spells, and while both worked, the emotional quality of my spoken words seemed to carry the edge—yet both worked and worked well. I could see such advantage in silently making my spells—how I could catch my enemy unawares, though I still had to lift my arms over my head. That action seemed to be the basic requirement of the power, perhaps it was a rule to prevent accidental mistakes, yet that even had small exceptions when I thought of how I could start fires and never raised my arms. So much to discover and learn.

I could tell the orb was helping me focus my power as well, it thrummed gently against my skin as I had called to the animals. But it was that book. The power it was helping me to find was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. I would prepare for the witch. I would be ready when she came to kill me. I glanced down at the orb, still shimmering with luminescent golden-green light, the same color that surrounded me when I healed animals, the color that had claimed my body the night I was transformed. It was the color of the power of the Winnowwood.

I should have been more suspicious the night I had been struck by the lightning—I had felt the communal consciousness of the animals that night. That had merely been a taste of what I found I could achieve. What had the Great Mother said? No one knows what is possible. That is the key to magic. If no one knew what was possible, I was determined to explore my powers to their very depths. After all, I was the High Priestess of the Bestiallas, I owed it to my friends, I owed it to the Winnowwood who had come before me. I took a deep breath as I looked out over the lands. My lands. I owed it to myself most of all.

I stared into the mirror and studied the perfection that met me. My mother had a new dress made for me for the ball knowing that I would never think of it. She had selected rich plum velvet, embellished with copper trim, which accentuated my hair. The neckline was low, emphasizing my bosom more than I would have preferred, but it was becoming—I could not deny that. It was snug in the waist with a skirt that was full enough to dance in comfortably. My princess crown now adorned lustrous, silken copper curls that trailed down to my waist. I was stunning—how odd, this new image.

I let out a sigh, for I was determined not to hate myself, or my new face, any longer. This was my face. I had to make peace with it. I stared into the mirror and gave my reflection the same compassion I wanted to have for others. “I do love you,” I whispered softly. I reached out to touch the reflection and ran my fingers slowly around the image of the face that looked back at me. “It’s not your fault this happened,” I added. “We need to work together and be strong.” I nodded at her and she nodded back. “We need to trust each other.” I slowly smiled, and the foreign beauty smiled back at me. “Tonight, we will be allies at last.”

I paraded into my room for Bear and Side Stripe’s inspection, who were sitting in their customary positions in front of the fire. I twirled once for their benefit. “Well, what say you, my friends? Do I look the part?”

“You could not look more beautiful, Princess,” growled Bear, “though I know you do not value that impression.”

“I am trying, Bear. Truly, I am trying to embrace this new me,” I chuckled sardonically.

Side Stripe bowed before me. “You look so very pretty, Princess. But then, you always do.” He smiled up at me, which I always found so enchanting. I picked him up, then smoothed my skirt and sat in the chair next to Bear. “So, no one has yet to see the witch leave her cave?”

Bear cleared his throat. “There have been a few rumors. An owl thought he spotted her flying last night, but he lost track of her,” he growled softly. “We have been unable to find anything new since Crow and his clan spied the second group of children that entered the cave.”

“That was, what? Two days ago?” I said softly. I had been horrified when Bear had first told me the news, but I could not afford to break down again. I took a deep breath. “I must say, I am very afraid of the magic she is creating.”

“But your studies continue to go well?” Bear asked.

I nodded. “In fact, I want to try an experiment, if that’s alright with you?” They both nodded. I took a deep breath to calm myself and thought of my words. “I have learned something new. I have learned I can speak to you directly without having to actually speak the words out loud.”

Both of their faces displayed their shock as they heard my words telepathically. Bear looked closely at me and replied as a thought, “The book told you of this?”

“Yes. The book has told me many things and I still have more to read,” I smiled slightly. “I was completely unaware of the powers I can wield. Tonight, I would like to see over what distance I can communicate with you, if you’re willing?”

“It would be good for your security if we could hear you, so to speak, even when you were far away,” answered Bear.

“This is fun,” added Side Stripe. “Do I have to do anything special?”

I giggled lightly, breaking the silence. “I don’t think so. But I’ll send you messages and we’ll see how far we get. I’ll try it when I get to my parents’ suite, which is not far from here and we’ll go from there.”

Bear stared at me, a slightly troubled look on his face. “How did Master Berthou come across this book?”

“I don’t know. I forgot to ask him,” I replied.

“Hmm. Perhaps you should remember to ask him the next time you see him,” he said.

I nodded and stood. “I will. See you later, and I hope to be speaking with you sooner.”

When I entered my parents’ suite, I found my mother closely examining Roseline’s lips, which were deep red and swollen. I drew close to find out what was wrong. When Roseline looked at me, tears filled her eyes and she began to sob.

“Roseline, what happened? Are you hurt?” I asked.

Mother looked at me, exasperated. “It’s merely a bee sting.”

“A bee sting? In winter, with snow on the ground?” I asked. “How did you almost eat a bee?”

Roseline took several deep breaths to calm herself. “I’ve always wanted fuller lips. Men find them so very appealing,” she choked out.

I looked at my mother, who nodded. “She did this to herself.”

“I didn’t do it!” Roseline denied. “Zahra did it. She has a beekeeper with hives they keep warm in the Royal Greenhouses. She said it would look wonderful!” She stomped her foot and her left hand clasped over her left cheek. An old tell from her childhood for when Roseline was upset or worried, her hand covered the warts that used to live there, long gone from her transformation.

I scrutinized her lips—both the upper and lower lip were now red and inflamed, looking like two engorged earthworms. “Well, no one will miss those lips now. How many bees gave their lives to your vanity?” I asked testily.

“Four,” she sulked, stomping her foot again.

I wondered if I could help with my new-found power. “Stand still,” I directed as I touched her lips and focused on the bee venom. I could see the four small puncture marks on her lips, two in each lip. In a few moments, the bee venom was bubbling onto her lips out of the four tiny holes.

Mother quickly dabbed the venom up with a cloth. “Something new?” she asked casually, but I could tell she was curious.

“I have you to thank for giving me the robe,” I calmly stated.

“Then you are finding your powers?”

“I am,” I said, not wanting to entice her further, at least, not tonight.

I calmed my mind. “Hello Bear and Side Stripe. I’m helping my foolish sister who has once again become a prisoner to her own vanity.” After a few moments, I heard their response.

“When will she learn?” said Bear solemnly.

Side Stripe’s giggles tickled my mind. “She is a very silly sister.”

“Indeed, she is. I’m glad this worked. I’ll try again when I’m in the Ball Room. Goodbye for now.”

Roseline let out a small gasp of surprise. “They don’t hurt anymore. Do they look alright?”

My mother and I stared at her lips, which were now almost normal sized again, but still retained a slight puffiness. “It’s probably the perfect effect for what you desired,” Mother said cautiously.

Roseline flew to the mirror and gazed nervously upon her reflection three inches away, turning and tilting her head, puckering her lips. “Perfect! They are perfect!” she gushed, rushing back and throwing her arms around me. “Thank you so much, sister!”

She pulled away and I finally had the chance to take in her complete presentation. She had selected the lovely blue silk gown with the elaborate pink trim, her hair was indeed magnificent, adorned perfectly around her crown with an intricate braiding then golden curls cascading past her shoulders. Her new hand maiden was indeed an artist, though the reminder of Talia sent a ripple of apprehension down my spine. “You look like a fairy princess, Roseline. Lord Rupert will be jealous of any other suitor you dance with tonight.”

Roseline grinned. “As he should be, sister, for there are several princes and counts who will be here, and I have my cap set for something higher than a lord. Rupert is merely fodder for my flirting.”

I glanced at my mother. Her eyes reflected the same feelings I had, but I still held hope that one day Roseline would see past exteriors and find a decent man of good character. She claimed to understand people; I hoped she would prove herself right.

Roseline hurried back to the mirror for another full inspection, turning and whirling in front of it. Finally satisfied, she faced us. “Somehow, I know tonight will change everything.”

Her words seemed to hang in the air for me, like a premonition. Goosebumps broke out on my arms as if a cold, fell wind had swept into the room. My mother looked at me, eyebrows arched in question. “It’s nothing,” I said calmly, “just that feeling you get when someone walks over your grave.”

I strolled down the staircase overlooking the main ballroom with Roseline by my side, following our parents after the court herald announced us in. It was a stunning ballroom: the floor was an intricate checkerboard pattern of white and gold marble, magnificent crystal chandeliers accented with leaves of gold lit the room with countless candles. Chairs and divans covered in gold and cream silks were scattered around the outside of the room amid spectacular paintings and immense gilded mirrors decorating the walls. The total impact was one of intimate grandeur. In a castle festooned with riches, it was the most striking room in the palace. We were among the last guests to join the party as Father so enjoyed making a grand entrance.

I surveyed the crowd below—the host of expensively clad courtiers with the required horde of servants attending to their every need, members of the royal guard discretely posted throughout the area. It reminded me of the celebration of barely a month ago when we had won the war against the Druzazzi. That night I had held my head high though I knew the crowd despised me, praying Black Bart would rescue me and we would escape from my father. Tonight, my Bart stood near the foot of the stairs next to his father as my betrothed, his crown on his head, with Zahra and Valora next to him, greeting their guests.

He glanced up and spotted me—the most wonderful smile came to his lips and his eyes seemed to dance in glee as he watched me move. I could feel the grin pasted on my face as well, he’d been away the past three days and I was eager to speak with him. In truth, I was eager to be in his arms and kiss him again as well. I heard a giggle next to me, turned and saw the look on Roseline’s face, one of abject incredulity.

“I’m sorry, but I still find it surprising that now that you look like you do, you would still be enraptured by him,” she said with mocking distain, then softened. “But at the same time, I can’t help but be a bit jealous of the joy that lights your face.” She smiled at me in surrender.

I so wished to find the right words that might pull her from her superficial path. “I can only hope that you will find the same kind of happiness I have when you find a man who sees past your outer shell and loves your soul.”

Roseline’s eyes travelled rapidly across the crowd of spectators, many of whom had stopped talking as they stared at our descent. I saw her eyes land on someone and followed her stare to… Prince Dagna, who stood motionless to the left of the stairs, gazing up at us in return. Roseline nodded to him, he grinned slyly in response.

“I think my outer shell is the only thing I trust, Olive,” she said softly. “What else do I have to account for myself?”

Before I could answer, we were interrupted. “Your lips look perfect, Roseline. Didn’t I tell you it would work?”

I turned to see Zahra’s smirking face. She certainly looked the part of the birthday girl—sheathed in a precious silk gown of shimmering silver, which complemented the silver crown on her head, embellished with rectangular sapphires and countless diamonds. Her smooth brown hair was worn loose past her shoulders, all set off by a spectacular diamond necklace intermixed with deep cerulean sapphires the size of robin eggs. She certainly left no doubt as to the significance of her dowry to any prospective suitor, nor her own assets as her breasts were nearly exposed with a neckline cut so low, one could not help but stare because, surely, they were going to escape at any moment. Absolutely scandalous. I looked at Zahra and she sneered in return, obviously proud of her display. I stared at her lips, and they too appeared somewhat enlarged, but certainly not to the ridiculousness that Roseline had been subjected. I wondered if she had done it on purpose, eliminating some of her competition perhaps? What an interesting evening this was sure to be.

Bart came to my side. “Hello, my darling. You look lovely,” he said casually.

“You look lovely, too,” I smiled in return.

“Yes, we all look so very lovely,” Zahra stated with a sharp edge to her voice. Her eyes trailed to the side where Prince Dagna stood with an equally handsome man. He was as tall and muscular as Dagna, but at least ten years older. His shining hair was black as coal, his skin the color of a golden eagle’s feathers, but it was his eyes, which were a buttery caramel color, that drew you to him. Zahra kept glancing over to the two striking men. Bart turned to greet my parents.

“Who is that man?” I asked quietly.

“He is gorgeous, isn’t he?” she said softly. I nodded my agreement as I waited for an answer. “He is Prince Quora from Sellas, which is on the east coast of the Continent,” she reminded me.

“He seems a good candidate for the first dance,” I teased.

For a moment, she looked so vulnerable, then the mask was firmly back in place. “That honor goes to my father.”

The dance was called The Courtiers’ Congregation, a bit of a mouthful Bart had declared, but it had been designed by his ancestor and was a beloved tradition of the Alganoun Court and always opened the ball. It was a dance of introductions, he explained, so that by the time the dance ended, everyone had met all the other attendees. Roseline had taught me the simple steps a few days ago in her rigorous ball preparations for the family ensuring I would not make a fool of myself. Still, my heart fluttered a bit with nervousness as Bart led us to our places—the men on one side, the women on the other, facing each other in two long rows. On my right was my mother, and on my left stood an exultant Roseline because across from her stood Prince Dagna.

The violins began to play, and I took my first step in meeting all of these people I was determined to be kind to, to let them know me, to show them who I really was, instead of this beautiful shell. We moved to the middle, bows and curtsies, turning and stating our names, gracefully in time with the music—up and back, and turn and curtsy, step left and circle, then back again. As we moved through the dance, the steps became second nature and I could focus more on the individual as I met them. Though many, especially the men, still acted rather stupefied, I was determined not to be offended and to be as kind as possible to everyone.

The other young ladies of the court from class were all friendly to me in return, and I could now greet them all by name, which made them smile—progress. Chubby Aisling danced with an older man who looked at her as if she were nothing. I despised him immediately and committed to bringing Aisling a chocolate pie to class tomorrow because Roseline told me it was her personal favorite. Anything to help her break this sad betrothal.

We were well over halfway through the dance when it happened—it felt like someone had thrown a living nightmare at my head and I gasped with the terror of it. I stumbled, but a strong arm caught me—I looked up into the golden eyes of Prince Quora.

“Thank you, sir,” I whispered meekly, still wobbling from the feeling of absolute dread.

Without missing a step, he guided me strongly, continuing the dance. “Are you well, Princess? Would you like to sit down?” he asked with concern.

I tried to calm my heart and settle my breathing. “No, I’m fine. Thank you for saving me from an unwanted introduction with the floor.” I gave him a weak smile.

He smiled in return, a beautiful, mesmerizing smile that seemed to contain its own masculine power. “I hope to speak with you again,” he said softly, and with a turn and a whirl, I was on to the next partner.

I was still trying to collect myself, I felt so unbalanced and discombobulated. Breathe, breathe. I smiled feebly at my next partner, a stocky lord I’d met once before, and nodded my head in greeting but used most of my energy to keep my feet moving in the right direction. The rest of the dance passed in a fog and I was completely relieved when, at last, Bart faced me again. I could tell he knew something was wrong. When the last note of the dance ended, he was quickly at my side leading me into a small private room off the ballroom.

I leaned against him as we sat together on a settee in front of a fireplace. “I don’t know what it was, Bart, but it felt like pure evil given flight.”

His face studied mine, he clasped my hands firmly in his. “I fear I know what it is, but I hope I’m wrong.” He paused as he rubbed my icy hands in his, bringing warmth back into them. “I haven’t told you everything about why I’ve been gone so much, I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily, but Geraldo and his men are always in contact with our people in Cisalpenia and the rumor is a witch has returned to our lands.” He looked at me solemnly.

I was shocked that he had figured it out on his own. “But how do you know that?”

“Because there are over forty little girls missing in that part of our island and there has only been one reason from our past for that many children to go missing at one time…” His voice trailed off.

I nodded. “The Bestiallas have told me the same thing. They believe they have found her hideout in the middle of the highest mountains to the south of us.”

Bart nodded solemnly. “The legend says that is the location of the Cavern of the Witches. No human has never escaped from it. No one knows what powers are contained there.”

I leaned my head against him. “I believe she’s here to kill me.”

For a few moments, Bart gently stroked my face, then added, “I think that’s probably true. There was an old rumor that King Viratrex had a witch in his dungeon. He may be seeking vengeance for his recent loss. I asked Dagna about it, but he denied any knowledge.” He paused. “Don’t ask me why, but I felt he was lying.”

“Why is he at this dance if you don’t trust him?”

“Because my sister wanted him here and it is her day,” he said with a wan smile. “But no worries, my love, I will never trust him as I’m sure you will not. For all we know, he’s working with her.”

I pulled my head away to look him in the eye, staring at what his eyes were telling me—fear, sadness, anger—the same things I was feeling. “I’m going to kill her.”

Bart’s face took on a somberness that gave me strength. “I will help you,” he said with conviction, then put his arms around me and held me close.

I rested my head against his chest. “Hello, Bear and Side Stripe. Are you still there?”

With no delay, they responded. “Are you alright, Princess?” Bear asked nervously.

“You seem afraid,” added Side Stripe.

“Should we come to you?” Bear asked, obviously concerned.

They could even feel my emotions through this bond—how interesting. “No, Bart is by my side. He’s minding me, no worries, my friends. I’ll see you in a bit.” With the warmth and strength of Bart’s arms around me, I felt safe again.

Cassandra

My timing was perfect. They were in the middle of doing that silly dance Ursula had created four hundred years ago after I had tricked her out of her powers. As I stood at the top of the staircase watching them, with the Count by my side, I saw her—the stupid, little girl I would kill. Even from this distance, I could feel her immense beauty—beauty I had given her with my own damn curse! It filled me with rage, I wanted to howl and curse, but knew I had to be patient to get what I wanted. Very patient. Though I had no power over her, I knew I could intimidate her from afar. I focused, then flung a hideous nightmare from my soul at her head. When she stumbled, I giggled to myself, then turned to the Count. “Come, Uncle, I want to meet the birthday girl when they’re done prancing about.”

The Count was decked out in his most lavish tunic and over-jacket and looked quite regal by my side. I, of course, was breathtaking in my red silk dress with the silver embroidery I had settled on, crowned by an impressively jeweled tiara set with diamonds and rubies, and my even more impressive rack on display for those who loved to admire beautiful breasts.

As I descended the stairs, more than one set of eyes from the dance floor feasted on me—I could feel their yearning—those dirty little boys and girls. While I couldn’t read their minds, I could only do that if I touched a human, I could feel their emotions. It was almost as telling because people usually acted on their emotions. For now, I’d let them finish their silly little dance and then I would use their emotions to accomplish what I needed. Tonight, I would add to my coven.

I made myself comfortable on a luxurious settee in a shadowed back corner of the ballroom as a new dance began. I had created the shadow infused with magic that left any mortal observer no longer observing. I left my “uncle” in the banquet hall to keep out of the way of my activities and to monitor the parents who would quickly join him. A new dance had begun. For a few minutes, I watched as the birthday girl attempted to draw in Prince Quora as she danced with him. I could feel her desire—I didn’t need to use my powers to figure that out, it was so obvious on her face and how she held herself as she faced him—a not too subtle invitation, especially with her breasts practically exposed, at least she knew where her strengths lay. Good, I could tantalize her with an amusing little display regarding that issue. Finally, the dance ended and with a polite bow, Prince Quora turned away and left her. The perfect moment.

Zahra’s face fell in disappointment as she watched the retreating prince; it would be the last disappointment she would feel for some time if I had gauged her correctly. I took control of her, marching her right over to me. Her face showed the confusion she felt as her limbs no longer obeyed, her voice silenced—my own marionette, dancing to my thoughts. I gazed at her, taking her in—decent bones to work with if a bit on the short side. I put a trifling smile on my face.

“Happy birthday, Princess Zahra,” I said pleasantly.

I could see her feet fighting to move, but they were planted firmly in place by my magic. “Who are you?” she asked nervously.

“I am here to give you the birthday present of your dreams—the Kingdom of Alganoun,” I stated seductively. I gripped her mind and within two seconds, she sat next to me on the settee. Again, I studied her face. While she was confused, she was not fearful. Good, I didn’t need a little chicken-hearted baby. She was taking me in, I could feel some admiration in her emotions.

“Do you think me beautiful?”

“Yes, exceptionally,” she quietly said.

“I saw your charms did not work on Prince Quora,” I lightly reported, “but with my help, you can have anything you want—including him.”

“How?” Though she tried to hide it, I could feel the desperation in her soul.

“Let me give you a taste of what your life could be.” I looked out at the crowd and found him, took control of him with a breath. In moments, Prince Quora was standing in front of us. “Hello, Prince. I believe you forgot to wish Princess Zahra a happy birthday.” I ordered him what to do in a thought.

He bowed low before Zahra. “Please, forgive me, my princess, and let me make up for that unforgiveable oversight.” With that, he firmly grasped her waist and effortlessly pulled her to her feet. In the next second, he had her in his arms, leaning her back for a passionate kiss as his left hand lightly grazed her breast, just enough to tantalize her, as I had directed him to do. For a second or two, Zahra struggled slightly, then gave herself over to her passion. I licked my lips as Prince Quora used his obvious skill in kissing Zahra so well she would never forget it. My mouth was watering; I would have to test his skills soon myself.

After a long minute, he pulled away and she practically fell over until his firm hand guided her back to her seat. She had a silly look of rapt pleasure on her face. He stepped back. “Happy birthday, my princess.” He bowed gracefully, then turned and strolled away.

“Did anyone see?” she finally gasped. “Father would be completely horrified!” She desperately adjusted her dress, pulling on the scant material.

I stared at her pleasantly. “I didn’t let anyone see. No one noticed at all,” I soothed her. Her eyes darted over the crowd, confirming what I had told her. “In fact, he won’t remember it either, unless you want him to.”

Then she stared back at me, really taking me in at last. “What are you?” she finally asked.

“Let me show you.” I took her left hand and held it in both of mine. I let her feel the power, imbuing her with a feeling of utter pleasure and strength. Her face tightened with emotion, her eyes reflected her delight and amazement. She let out a small gasp then closed her eyes to focus on the pleasure, her lips quivering with unbridled desire. I pulled my hands away. Her eyes flashed open.

“More,” she begged.

I shook my head. “I have an invitation for you. I will only give it once, and you, if you accept, will never be allowed to change your mind,” I cautioned. I could tell from the look on her face that I had her completely.

“Zahra! There you are,” a youthful voice announced.

I looked up and from the description Francesca had given me, saw what must be Princess Valora —short, like her siblings, long dark hair set off a pleasant face, brown eyes, lovely smile, wearing a pale, pink silk dress accented with gold chiffon, a simple golden circlet on her head. Siblings always had a connection that even magic could not break and she had seen past my shadow.

“You must come and dance!” she added exuberantly.

I turned to Zahra and took over her mind, wiping the confused look off her face. “Sister, I thank you for thinking of me, but my dearest old friend, Lady Astria Amalthea, is here and I’d really like to visit with her a bit longer. I’ll be with you shortly.” With a slight thought of encouragement, the princess nodded.

“I’m so sorry to have interrupted. I’ll see you later,” Valora turned and moved away.

Zahra stared at me. “How did you do that? You turned me into your puppet.”

“I can do that to anyone I want, Zahra.” I moved my hand slightly, tightening my spell around us so there would be no more interruptions. “They can no longer see us.”

“But are we not here?” Zahra asked.

“Certainly, but…” I moved in close to intimidate her “… they will not see us because I have commanded them not to see us,” I hissed softly.

Zahra took a deep breath. “How?”

“Because I am Cassandra Dragon Slayer and I am a witch.” I watched her reaction with keen interest. The news had not surprised her; she knew what I was from the moment I had touched her.

She gazed at me, her brown eyes sparkling with life. “What must I do?”

“You must respect me and obey my wishes if you would be part of my coven.”

“You will make me Queen of Alganoun? You will see the law changed?” she eagerly implored.

“No. I will help you kill your brother, then you can change the law.” I watched her carefully, and she didn’t flinch.

“Yes,” she whispered.

I smiled warmly at her in return. “You will help me capture the Winnowwood as well.”

Her eyes did not move from mine. “Yes.”

I nodded. “Now, we will begin our attack. Learn what patience can give you. There are many ways to use power, and for now, we will move in quiet ways that will not alarm our enemy.”

I spied Roseline and Dagna, who were dancing close by, his arm tight around her waist as she gazed longingly up at him. I tickled Dagna’s mind and gave him my signal. I reached out and held Zahra’s hand in mine. “Hear how we can eavesdrop on anyone.” I focused on Dagna, whom I had spelled, amplifying his conversation to my mind.

It was obvious that Roseline was enraptured by him as she gazed up at him, batting her eyes furiously. “Perhaps you would enjoy having dinner with me and my family tomorrow evening, Dagna?” she said.

He smiled radiantly at her. “That is a fine thought. Will your sister be in attendance?”

Roseline looked slightly taken aback. “I would assume so. Why do you ask?”

Again, that devastating smile on his face. “Because she’s the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld, and I am determined to have her,” he devilishly replied as he smirked down at her.

We watched as Roseline practically crumpled into nothing in his arms. Her eyes batted furiously again, but this time to keep back the tears. She looked away from him, attempting to collect herself, but her young heart was too bruised. She would not have that vulnerable heart much longer if my plan continued to go well. The music ended, rescuing her from further insult, she pulled away and, by my order, came directly to us.

“Do not speak, Zahra,” I said. “I will handle this.” Roseline stood in front of Zahra, glancing nervously at me. Before she opened her mouth, I spoke, “I have a gift for you, young princess.”

In moments, Dagna was behind her, turning her, taking her into his arms. “Roseline, your beauty is so overwhelming, it makes me want to ravage you all night long,” he uttered roughly. Immediately, he kissed her with the passion I had been the delighted recipient of the previous night. Roseline’s body collapsed into his as he pressed himself against her with the aggression of a powerful lover, her breasts pinned against his chest. I mentally signaled Dagna to release her and she collapsed onto the settee next to Zahra, panting with excitement.

Dagna bowed before her. “Princess.” He paused, giving her a smile that promised everything. “I’ll see you soon,” he purred roguishly, then strolled away.

Emotions rolled across Roseline’s face—confusion, anger, pleasure, then back to confusion. She gathered herself, then finally looked at Zahra, then to me.

“Hello, Roseline. Would you like to control Prince Dagna, never let him near your sister?” I queried politely.

She nodded. “I want him,” she declared emphatically.

“Even though he told you he preferred your sister?”

“She must not take him,” she declared.

“I can give you everything you desire and more.”

Roseline looked back to Zahra, wondering what was happening. “How is that possible?”

“Because I am Cassandra Dragon Slayer.”

Her eyes grew wide, she attempted to stand, but I kept her firmly in her seat, which scared her all the more. “You are the witch that cursed us,” she softly said.

“Ah, yes. You were a Winnowwood once, weren’t you?”

Roseline nodded fearfully.

“Give me your hand,” I ordered. She hesitated, so I forced her to extend her arm to me, taking her left hand into mine—a vicious power struck at me. I instantly dropped her hand.

My, my, my. Ursula had added a curse to my blade – a Sorcerer’s curse! I could taste it as soon as I touched the Winnowwood. Roseline was cursed and she didn’t even know it! I knew this curse: it was a reversing counter-curse and Ursula had cleverly made this one to punish a Winnowwood who harmed animals to gain their beauty, and by the Dark Sister, that was what Roseline had done. I could see it all in that brief connection. And this spell would activate itself under the light of a full lunar eclipse. If the seers were right, and they always were, the full moon in a fortnight would be a total eclipse occurring deep in the night.

I gasped in delight. Roseline’s powers could be amplified if I waited to convert her to a witch just as the moon began to exit the eclipse. She would suffer. She would scream. She would be hideous as she begged for my help, but she also would become so powerful, and in complete thrall to me.

I smiled smugly as I contemplated it. How she would dance to my song, she would come to me as a slave if I wanted to debase her to that extent. I might. “It has not been long since you changed using the blade that I created, has it?” I peered at her harshly.

“Almost five months,” she said softly.

“Tell me, two moons ago, do you remember being ill the night of the full moon?” I knew there had been a partial eclipse, though barely a slice of the moon had been eclipsed.

Roseline’s mouth dropped open. “I thought I might die, I had such horrid nightmares…” Her voice drifted off as she recalled her terror. “How did you know?”

I redirected her thoughts away from this topic; there was plenty of time for me to play this card and it would make the game all the more interesting. I would not let her know about Ursula’s curse on the blade, not yet. “I know more than you could ever imagine, dear Roseline. And I am offering to share that knowledge, that power, with you if you are interested? If you would like to join us?”

Roseline paid attention to the use of “us” and looked to Zahra. “What have you agreed to?”

Zahra smiled boldly in return. “I have decided to become a witch,” she said with complete determination.

I loved seeing her passion, she was stronger than I imagined. Perhaps Ursula’s spawn might be a far more powerful ally to me that I originally believed. It certainly would not be the first, I thought smugly to myself. I needed strong women in my coven if I were to rule the world.

Roseline’s eyes grew wide, flashing between Zahra and me. She could barely get her words out. “I don’t know.”

“Neither of you will be able to speak to anyone about this, so don’t try. If you do try, your tongue will choke you to death.” I gave them a pleasant smile. “Come to my estate tomorrow morning at eleven. We will have a longer discussion about what I am offering you and what I expect in return. Tonight, I will send you both a gift.” I said sensuously, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves.”

Zahra’s uncontained desire was easy to see, but I could tell Roseline was still hesitant. That would be no problem. By the Dark Sister, once she found out about the curse, she would come running to me with open arms. The only question would be—how much would I make her beg? I looked forward to Roseline’s punishment, she needed to fear me with all her might.

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we? After all, this is Zahra’s night.” I stood, smoothed my dress, and sent out my call, tickling only the most handsome men’s minds, who, in moments, were assembled before us. The parents hurriedly exited the room to join my uncle as I didn’t care to be chaperoned. Not when I had planned for so much fun. I grinned at them both and said, “Take your pick, ladies. This is the night you begin your new lives.”

I know you wish you could have been with us. Maybe next time.

Olive

Bart held me in his arms, my head nestled against his chest, as he softly stroked my hair and gazed into the fire. Bear and Side Stripe were keeping an eye on me as well. We had looked for Zahra to make our farewells, but Valora told us she was chatting with an old friend, so we decided to make a quiet exit. My soul told me to leave, and I was determined to listen. I was still rattled by whatever it was that had frightened me in the ballroom, and I wanted to get away from it.

“Master Berthou gave me a book that is helping me master my powers,” I said casually.

“What is it teaching you?” he asked.

“That the only charm I knew, the one you saw me use before, was one that children are taught and there is far more to my powers than I ever imagined.”

Bart looked at me and smiled. “Certainly, that’s good news.”

I nodded. “I only hope I have enough time to learn more so when I face her, I’m ready.”

Bart was hesitant, I could tell he wanted to say something. I put my hand on his face, stroking his cheek. “What?”

He sat me up and took both of my hands in his. “I hate to say something so dismal, but…” he looked me directly in the eye “… with all of her power, her experience, why hasn’t she tried to kill you already?”

For several moments, we just stared at each other. I felt foolish that the thought had never crossed my mine. When he said it, it had such true simplicity of thought that it struck me like a blow. “I guess I believed that the Great Mother would protect me until I was ready,” I softly said.

Bear growled his opinion. “Tell him of the children in the castle.”

Bart raised his eyebrows, wondering what Bear had said.

“She is watching me. There are about a dozen little girls in the castle that we believe are spying for her, the mice spotted them,” I said.

“Then she is plotting something.”

“Yes.”

“I think Dagna is part of this,” he said.

“I do think something is off with him. Please keep him in the dungeon, even if Zahra enjoys his company.”

“Of course. I will speak to the guards in the morning and to my sister as well,” he said, stoking my hands in his to comfort me. “Tomorrow, after your classes, I think we need to spend the remainder of the day in the retreat and try to come up with ideas on what she may be up to.”

I looked up at him, unsure in my thoughts. “We don’t have much to go on.”

“If we lay out every detail of anything odd that has happened or is happening, we might have more than you think. We need to look for patterns.” He brushed his hand gently along my cheek. “Like the beautiful pattern of your mouth when you bite the inside of your lower lip when you’re worried.”

“Silly, you’re so silly,” I whispered as I brought my face close to his, so close, we shared the air of our breaths. Bart’s soft lips touched mine and I melted into his embrace, his strong arms holding me so close to him. After several long minutes lost in those deep kisses, I heard a loud growl coming from Bear and pulled back from Bart.

I glanced over at Bear, who looked like a disapproving parent.

“You know, we are betrothed,” I stated firmly.

“You are not married yet, Princess, and it is my duty to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection from Bart,” I said disapprovingly.

“I know him to be a man of honor,” he said earnestly, “I will see that he retains that honor in my mind.”

I laughed and told Bart what he had said. Bart stood, bowing low to Bear, “You are right, my friend, no matter that I love this woman with all my heart, I will not bring the shadow of dishonor on her. It is my job to defend her, even if I need to defend her from myself,” he softly chuckled.

I told Bear and Side Stripe what he said, they both snickered with laughter.

Bart turned to me, gently pulling me to my feet, then wrapping me in his arms again. “Would you like me to stay with you tonight?” My face must have shown my shock because he gave me a devilish grin. “I promise to sleep on this divan and mind my manners. Bear will see to it.”

I thought about it for a moment or two. I had to admit, I still felt very uneasy, but at the same time, I did have Bear and Side Stripe, who I knew could defend me as a witch had no power over them… though she would over Bart. The idea of her controlling Bart made my heart jump in misery. I touched his face, “Though I appreciate your offer, I don’t think I could sleep with you so close by, it would be such a temptation,” I said with a sly grinned.

Bart let out a huge laugh. “How you delight me, Olive.” He stared at me a moment, a soft smile on his lips. “Then I will bid you a good night.” He turned and bowed to Bear and Side Stripe, took my hand and kissed it. “I’ll see you tomorrow after class in the Retreat.”

I kissed him on his cheek. “Tomorrow, my love.”

After he left, I quickly prepared for bed. I propped up my pillows and picked up the book to continue to read about my powers. I took a deep breath to focus, I knew she was coming for me. I could feel it.

I was early. I had wanted to study the large map of the island that was posted on the wall before we started, especially the area around the mountain range to our south where Cassandra’s lair was hidden.

Though I knew I could be rather obtuse when it came to human behavior, even I could not ignore the bizarre feeling in the air as the other ladies arrived. I had expected the room to be humming with exciting stories of the previous evening, but the mood in this room was far more subdued, bordering on hostile.

I glanced over at Aisling. “Did you enjoy the ball?” I asked.

She blushed a deep shade of red, turned her head down and mumbled, “Please do not tease me, Olive. I don’t think I can bear it.” She looked down at her hands and began to blink her eyes furiously.

I didn’t know what I said that would affect her so. I looked over at Crima, who put a polite finger to her lips and shook her head back and forth. Obviously, I had missed something that had happened. As I looked around the room, every girl’s face reflected anger and disappointment and just a hint of fear. What in the world had happened? I was about to enquire when I spotted them.

All talk stopped as Zahra and Roseline sauntered into the room. If the class had been cool before, it was now positively icy. Zahra walked with a swagger, seeming to dare anyone to speak to her, as if she now possessed some new-found power and confidence. Something was different with Roseline, as well, her eyes held a look in them I had not seen before—stark coldness. I’d never known her to look so withdrawn and haughty. They both wore heavy coats, buttoned up to their necks.

Zahra moved to the front of the class. “I want to say a few words to all of you before you start your class.” She glanced over at Aisling, who was crying silent tears. “Now, Lady Piggy, really! Are you still upset over the events of last night?” she chuckled meanly. “Is it my fault that your dress split open in front of everyone? I wasn’t the one who made you eat that entire chocolate pudding pie, now was I?” Aisling would not look up.

“Stop it, Zahra,” warned Valora, her face flushed in anger.

“Little Princess,” Zahra said icily, “you’d better stop speaking now. All of us saw what a fool you made of yourself at the ball.” She glared at her sister with such disgust, it shocked me. “Don’t assume to ever tell me what to do—you spoiled little brat!”

Valora’s head fell, there was no way she could withstand Zahra’s assault. What in the world had happened? And for whatever reason, I was now glad I had forgotten to bring the chocolate pie.

Zahra coldly took us all in. “I suppose you’re all angry because all those gorgeous men only wanted to dance with Roseline and me?” She grinned broadly. “Such jealous little girls.” Her voice echoed loudly in the room. She looked over to Master Berthou in the corner of the room, still at his desk. “Roseline and I stopped in to let you know that we cannot attend your class today. We’ve a very important meeting. See you tomorrow.” She nodded dismissively to Master Berthou, then turned and gave the rest of us a look that could only be described as haughty and cruel. “Ladies…” she took a moment to look each of them in the eye, including me “… I’ll see you soon.” With that, she and Roseline turned and stalked out of the room without a backward glance. My sister had not looked my way once.

Sabine turned to me. “What happened to you last night? I looked for you to stop your sister from being so very indiscrete. The way she was dancing with Prince Dagna was absolutely scandalous!” She looked at me accusingly.

“I was ill. I left after the first dance,” I replied. “Why didn’t my parents stop her?”

“Your parents, King Ivan, and all of the other parents left the ball and went to the banquet room and never returned,” she said.

“What in the world happened?”

“None of the men would dance with anyone except Zahra and Roseline and their new friend,” declared Aldith.

“We all just stood there watching them like idiots,” added Alfreda.

“Who was this new friend?” I asked.

Crima turned to me. “Her name is Lady Astria Amalthea, the niece of Count Winton Amalthea. She’s very beautiful and ridiculously rich. The tiara she wore had to be worth well over a thousand golds, it was a truly exquisite piece of jewelry, all rubies and diamonds. Her dress was gorgeous as well.” She gave me a sheepish look. “Truly, Olive, it almost seemed like a spell was on all the men, they stood there staring hungrily at them like lustful dogs all night long. It was so strange.”

Aisling turned her red eyes to us. “I didn’t even want any pie. It was like something controlled me… I shoved my face into that pie and couldn’t stop eating.” Tears dripped off her face. She cleared her throat. “The only good news is Lord Gossun was so disgusted, he broke off our engagement.”

I grabbed her hand, holding it tight in mine. “Some wonderful news amidst the misery, Aisling. Just what you wanted.”

Aisling nodded her head, trying to smile. “But it was so humiliating,” she whispered.

“I found myself dancing a jig in front of everyone, shaking my dress and kicking my legs…” Valora rolled her eyes. “I have no idea what possessed me, but I did feel possessed!”

I looked up and noted all the girls were staring at me, as if I had the explanation for what had happened. I did. But I didn’t want to share it with them, not yet. I wondered who this Lady Astria was and how she could be connected to Cassandra Dragon Slayer? I wondered if Cassandra had somehow slipped into the ball last night and constructed these events to happen—but why?

Today was not a day to be spent in class. I turned to Master Berthou. “Sir, would it be too much of an imposition to ask that you cancel your lesson for today?”

Master Berthou looked grateful. “I think that may be wise, Princess. Let me give you all some privacy for your discussions. I’ll have cook send up tea and biscuits to assuage the unfortunate events.” He nodded at all of us, then left the room.

I looked at all their sad faces. “Now, tell me everything that happened.”

I felt a sense of peace as soon as I walked through the door, the orb hummed softly against my skin, and I could feel the comforting little heart beat it emitted. I let out a breath of relief, then walked down the hallway into the Retreat. Bart looked up from the desk, stood, and strolled over to me with a knowing smirk on his face.

“You’ve heard what happened at the ball after we left?” I asked.

He nodded. “It sounds like our sisters were not behaving as ladies of the court ought to. In fact”—he took me in his arms—“it sounds as if it was a licentious, decadent scene with more than a bit of debauchery.” He kissed me softly on my mouth, the tip of his tongue tickling my lips. “Too bad we left,” he chuckled, then kissed me seriously at last.

As I wrapped my arms tightly around his strong back, pulling him close to me, enjoying his luscious kisses, I basked in the feelings that flowed through my body. It was warmth, it was strength, it was… power! I pulled away from him as it hit me. Bart looked confused. “We are charmed,” I panted, “I can feel it. I have always felt it since I changed, but I couldn’t name it. The kissing was so new to me, but I feel it, Bart. I feel it!” I said anxiously.

“What do you feel?” he asked.

“Power. I mean, I feel love and warmth and feelings too, but I feel power and strength. I told you before that when I kissed you, I felt like I could fly in this body.” I took a deep breath, attempting to contain the hyperactive feelings flooding through my veins. “I think there is something more powerful at work here than we are aware of.”

Bart stood solemn for a moment; the look in his eyes held a bit of fear. “It’s not a trick, is it, Olive? It’s not a trick that you love me?”

I touched his face and looked in his eyes. “My darling, it is no trick. I do love you. I loved you before I changed. I know my emotions are true, but something else is going on as well. I think we may have awakened a long-held spell when we fell in love.” I led him to the carpet in front of the fireplace, then I lay down and patted the carpet next to me. “I want you to help me conduct an experiment.” I smiled at him in a manner I hoped was beguiling, but feared was ridiculous.

He grinned at me. “Count me in,” he said, then joined me on the floor.

“I want you to lie on top of me,” I said rather coyly, “and remember, this is an experiment.”

“I am your eager subject, Princess.” He carefully laid his body on top of mine. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, in fact, it feels very pleasant.” I smiled at him and ran my hands through his thinning hair. “Now, close your eyes and relax and focus on our connection,” I directed.

He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head against my shoulder. We both closed our eyes and breathed. I could feel it. “Breath in time with me.” Our breathing matched the other’s. I could feel our power, like a hidden spirit drawing us both together. I felt so protected, yet incredibly powerful. And yearning, such yearning to join physically with him. I turned my head to his and our lips touched, lightning seemed to flow through my body. I kept focusing on the power as I kissed him. The more passion we expressed, the more power I felt. I did feel like I could fly. All I wanted was to bring him into me, to be one body together—it felt like I could combust.

Bart suddenly pulled away from me, breaking our connection. The confusion must have showed on my face. “I don’t want to embarrass myself, Olive. It is too powerful to resist if I were to lie on you any longer.” He moved off me and sat up, letting out a long, deep breath.

“Then you could feel it too?”

Bart gave me a sheepish smile. “Oh, I could feel it. Trust me in that.”

My face flushed with embarrassment. “I meant the power.”

He stared at me, taking my face in, my body. It made my pulse beat faster to see that hungry look in his eyes. “You are so beautiful, Olive, and you know I mean on the inside as well as your gorgeous exterior. When my body lies on yours, it is absolutely intoxicating. Is it power? I don’t know. My yearning for you strikes such a passion in me that it clouds my mind.” He reached out to stroke my cheek. “But I do feel like I could conquer the world, defeat any foe, when I hold you in my arms, my love.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Is that power? I don’t know for sure, but I know that I’ve never felt anything like this before either.”

I sat up next to him on my knees and kissed his lips softly. “Then our experiment was a success.” I smiled seductively at him.

“Stop that smile now, young lady, or Bear will be pulling my guts out as he dines on my lack of honor,” he said as he gave me a lopsided smile.

I looked as somberly as I could at him, though my body still pulsed with desire. “Better?”

His hands ran through my hair, wrapping the long curls around his fingers. “Oh, I do like that smile, trust me. But if you want to get any work done at all today, I suggest you control yourself, madam.”

“This will be the first thing on our list,” I declared.

“What? My desire to ravage you until neither of us can walk,” he said half-jokingly.

I knew I was unschooled, so very uninformed on all of this, and I could feel myself blush. “Bart, I can only imagine what it will be like when we join—”

He put two fingers on my lips. “My dear, please do not let me hear anymore. Truly, I do not want to embarrass myself.”

I noticed he shifted rather uncomfortably, pulling on his pants a bit to readjust. My face grew hot with embarrassment. My mother had told me a little about the sex act, I had learned a lot more from watching the animals, and right now, I was embarrassed right down to my toes. “I’m sorry.”

He only smiled. “It was a marvelous experiment. Truly. I’ve never enjoyed anything more,” he said with a smidge of sarcasm. He stood, then pulled me to my feet. “So, what is your verdict? Is this magic?”

I smiled, took a step close to him and whispered, “Yes, we are magic. We are in love…” I gave him an innocent kiss on his cheek, pulled back and looked him in the eye “… and we are also enchanted.”

Cassandra

As I stared at Zahra and held her hand in mine, I let my face fill with surprise, which was a lie because I wasn’t the least bit surprised. I’d put a spell of longing on her that was so potent, so demanding, that this was the only possible outcome, but I wouldn’t let her know that. I had also put a spell on the Prince Quora, and he had performed his duties admirably. She was twenty-five and in need of debauching, in need of opening an entirely new path of power and desire, and I had given her that. It served me to have her think she had wanted all of it, that it was her idea, that she was that ravenous—all on her own. She would now consider herself a powerful sexual being of great talent and she would hold that thought dear in defining who she was. Just as I wanted.

I could see all that happened the previous evening and I was more than impressed. Zahra certainly had a talent for the pleasures of the boudoir. Good. That gift would be well used in her new life as a witch. As I have told you, lust is always a key to the heart of men and one so easy to use.

I turned to Roseline and took her hand in mine, though in actuality, her skin did not touch mine. To Roseline, it felt as if her hand was enclosed within mine, but I knew better than to try to grasp her hand, not when she was cursed with such strong magic. Besides, I knew what had happened without touching her, I had given Dagna very specific instructions, and he had reported back to me in minute detail as he pleasured me all night long.

I could feel Roseline’s desire to pull her hand back from me, to not allow me to see her humiliation, but being this close to her, within an atom’s breath of her skin, I could read her mind. It was not quite as sharp as if I actually touched her, providing a slight mistiness to her memories, but I could see it all. She had danced the night away with Dagna, and he had practically taken her on the dancefloor, his hips grinding, his tongue probing and Roseline was the enthusiastic vessel for his pleasure. But I had instructed Dagna very carefully what would happen later and what would not. So, I saw her lusty face as she invited him into her bed chamber. Saw his smirking face. The refusal. And the words that were like a knife through her heart, “I’m sorry, Roseline, but I can’t keep your sister out of my mind.”

“But you said I was beautiful, that you wanted me so desperately,” she squeaked.

“Sorry about that,” he uttered nonchalantly, “but I can’t take you when it is Olive that I truly want.” With that, he turned on his heel and left her. Left her to cry and to sob and to curse her sister. I could feel her wrath, her anger, her hatred and I soaked it in.

I patted her hand as if I were being sympathetic, the curse’s power jumping at me like tiny lightning bolts with that brief contact with her skin. “I can help you,” I said softly. “We could kill her if you’d like?” I let the question hang in the air like a magical spell over our heads. “But only if you join us.”

I watched her eyes, oh, the battle that was going on behind those lovely green eyes was so easy to see. Her face became colder than I had ever seen it, a cast fell over her eyes as she looked into mine. “Yes,” she simply said. She looked down, then when her eyes met mine again, there was a burning rage reflected in those, oh, once so innocent eyes. “Yes,” she said with cold affirmation. I felt like I was watching the death of that innocent sixteen-year-old and finding a witch had taken her place. Excellent.

I pulled back and allowed myself to let out a sigh of contentment; my plan was falling into place so beautifully. I took them both in—yes, they had potential. “Good.” I quickly stood and strode to the window. On the hill in the distance stood Alganoun Castle. Soon it would be mine. This would all be mine, yet it was only a steppingstone for me into the world.

I turned back to them. “You have one mission to achieve before I allow you to become witches, and it is a simple task.” I made them wait as they looked at me with simple curiosity, then as the seconds passed, with ever deepening concern. Finally, I spoke, “I want you to break the relationship between your sister and your brother. End it. I do not want them together.” Roseline’s face showed her doubt; “If you can’t do this, you do not possess the cleverness needed to become a witch.”

Zahra took Roseline’s hand. “I know what to do,” she said to me. “Leave it to us.”

“Yes. I shall.” I took another deep breath, then gave them an icy stare. I turned back to the window. “Return to the castle. Send word when you have accomplished your task. You have no more than three days’ time. You may go.” I heard their soft footfalls as they quickly exited the room.

How easy it is to control people—it doesn’t even require that much magic; you take a lie, and let it build, let it work on their insecurities, their vices, and soon, they will be yours. Without ever uttering a spell. Try it. You’ll thank me.

Olive

All through dinner, I couldn’t help but stare at Roseline. Something was changed in her and I was determined to find out exactly what it was before the evening was over. Her face was flushed, and I swear I caught the look of a bruise on her neck though she was wearing a high-collared dress, which was quite unusual for her.

Mother turned to me. I’m sure she felt my unease; she was always so good at reading me. “It’s a shame you had to leave the ball so early.”

Father cleared his throat. “Yes, why did you do that, Olive? This was your chance to meet everyone who is anyone and show off a bit.”

I smiled at him, which always seemed to leave him a little tongue-tied, even though you’d think he’d be used to how I look by now. “I did meet everyone as I made it through the first dance, so my appearance was not wasted, Father.” I turned to Roseline, who was looking down at her plate. “I heard you were the belle of the ball, Roseline. With Zahra, and your new friend?”

When she lifted her head and her eyes met mine I nearly gasped—there was a look in them that left me cold. She quickly looked back down. When she looked up again, her expression was again her own—what was that? What creature had looked at me a moment ago?

“You missed a truly delightful evening,” she simpered, sounding like her shallow self again. “And I must admit that I did enjoy all the attention I received, Olive, I can’t deny it.”

“As well you should,” encouraged Father, “such beauty should never go unrecognized or unappreciated. I’m sure all the young men fell at your feet.” He smiled broadly. “I had many fathers interested in bargaining for your hand for their sons,” he said, laughing enthusiastically. “By the time I’m done, I’m sure you’ll be queen of your own kingdom, my dear.”

Again, I noticed an odd look flash across her face, almost instantaneously replaced by her simpering self. “That’s wonderful news, Father. Truly, wonderful.” She gave him her best smile, which in turn made him beam with joy.

“Indeed, I will be pleased when I can make as good a match for you as the one I made for Olive. My daughters’ welfare is always my most paramount concern,” he purred.

I wanted to cringe. That was such a lie—he had never cared about me, not until I was beautiful. He had done nothing to help my betrothal to Bart. In fact, he had fought it as he had intended Roseline for Bart. I would never forget how he attempted to block King Ivan’s path to me when he called out my name instead of Roseline’s. I bit my lip and looked down, focusing on my salad and vegetables. I could feel my mother staring at me, so I readied my face into a pleasant expression before I looked up. I turned to Roseline. “I was told by several ladies that Prince Dagna was positively indecent regarding his intentions towards you. How did you put him off?”

Roseline blushed slightly, then gave me an icy stare. “A lady knows how to quiet a gentleman’s advances, Olive.”

I could see a hint of that cruel beast hiding in her expression and it made me pull back from her. Who was this creature?

Father nodded eagerly. “Indeed, only a lady can tame the brute that men are at their core,” he chuckled.

“Who is this new-found friend you speak of?” Mother asked.

Roseline put on her pleasant face once again. “She is the niece of Count Winton Amalthea, her name is Astria, and she is an absolute delight. I’m sure you’d both love her,” she said, including me in her look.

“Perhaps we should invite her to dinner?” Mother asked innocently, but I could feel the intention in her question.

“I’m not sure,” Roseline replied with an edge of nervousness. “She seems quite busy with her commitments.”

I swear Roseline blushed again and seemed to be looking for a story to tell. She had never been a particularly good liar, yet she seemed determined to tell this tale now. Why?

Mother nodded at her, pretending to believe her excuse, but I could feel her skepticism as well. I decided to remain silent until I had her alone, I doubted she would keep this up with me. After all, we were sisters.

Roseline and I walked down the hall towards our rooms, when we arrived at her door, I turned to her. “Could we talk for a few minutes?”

She smiled like a cat. “Of course, sister. I wanted to speak with you as well.”

I was relieved that Talia wasn’t around when we walked in, making ourselves comfortable in the chairs by the fire. “What happened last night?” I asked Rosaline. “Today, all the ladies were so upset, then when you came in, you acted so strangely, Roseline. Like you thought so little of them, and you’ve never been like that.” I tried to keep my voice calm, not accusatory.

Roseline watched the flames in the fire for a moment or two before she spoke. “I do feel bad if the ladies thought I was rude. That wasn’t my intention,” she said, looking down at her hands, “though I will admit that I drank too much wine at the party—I had the worst headache this morning, and felt quite unwell. I must have let the pain in my head put that sour look on my face.” She looked at me with soft eyes, wanting me to believe her.

“I see.” I paused, searching her eyes for what was truly going on. “Why were the ladies so upset? Aisling was in tears.” I, of course, had already heard what had happened in very specific detail, but I wanted to see if Roseline would tell me the truth.

Roseline bit her lip. “That was most unfortunate.” I could almost hear the wheels in her head turning. “I think she had too much to drink, or perhaps someone dared her, but I did see her shove her face into this huge chocolate pudding pie and she didn’t come up for air until she’d eaten all of it. Lord Gossan watched it all.” She stopped to snicker for a moment and rolled her eyes as if she couldn’t believe what had happened. “When she was finished, her face was covered in the pudding and, in front of everyone, he decreed that he would not marry, ‘Lady Piggy.’ I think that’s where Zahra picked up that unfortunate phrase, we both know she has a cruel streak.”

I thought I remembered Zahra already using the piggy term previously, so was unconvinced. “Where did the two of you go today? It seemed rather important.”

Again, that awkward pause as she prepared her answer. “Astria had a tea party for us. She, obviously, isn’t required to attend the stupid classes we have.”

“I thought you liked the classes?”

“I’d rather be free to do as I want.” I stared at her for a few moments and could see her face change from nervousness to that new face of meanness I’d been treated to earlier. Her eyes flashed to me. “But I thought you wanted to speak to me of Bart. That you had already heard the rumor, as I certainly wasn’t going to bring it up in front of Mother.”

“What rumor?”

She looked me in the eye, then whispered, “Zahra told me she saw Astria coming out of Bart’s room at dawn this morning. She said she actually waved at her before she disappeared down the back staircase.”

“Why in the world would she be there?” I knew it was a lie. I knew it when she said it, but why? Why would she come up with this ridiculous story?

Roseline stared at me, opening her eyes wide. “You know…” She started to say, but then stopped.

I stared back at her. “No, I don’t know, Roseline. What did Zahra tell you?”

She feigned looking concerned, then whispered, “She thinks Astria coupled with Bart.”

I let out a giggle. “Really?”

Roseline looked at me strangely. “How could you laugh at that, Olive? How could you laugh when Bart is laying with another woman?”

I stared back at her. “Bart would not do that, and I have no idea why Zahra would tell you something so ridiculous.” Why would Zahra want me angry at Bart? That was the real question. I knew Roseline was trying to manipulate me as part of some plot she and Zahra had cooked up, but why?

For a moment, neither of us said anything. “Are you laying with him?” Roseline finally asked in a snotty tone.

“No, of course not,” I murmured.

“Why not? Don’t you love him?” she shot back.

“You know I do.”

“Well?”

“Well, what? We’re waiting until we’re married. We want the Great Mother to bless our union,” I said.

Her eyes flickered with something like loathing. “You’re so foolish. Another woman has been seen exiting his room at dawn. Do you not think Bart has needs? He is a man, after all.”

As I stared at her flushed face, I didn’t believe her, and I certainly didn’t believe Zahra. “Bart is a good man. He wouldn’t do that to me,” I said with certainty in my voice.

Roseline smiled in that pathetic, condescending manner. “You don’t know men at all, do you? He would not see it as doing anything to you, he’s doing it with another woman, honoring his promise to wait to lay with you until you are married. What vow is he breaking? Has he promised not to lay with anyone else?” Her eyes flashed in meanness. “He told Zahra that he couldn’t believe what a prude you are. I can see he’s right about you!” she hissed.

I stood quickly before she could move and pulled the collar of her dress down, revealing several purple marks on her neck. Roseline jumped to her feet, knocking my hand away from the collar.

“Who did this to you?” I demanded.

“None of your business!” she whispered.

For a few moments, we stared at each other. “You are my little sister. You will always be my business, Roseline.” I paused and tried to keep my voice calm. “Did you give yourself to him?”

Her lower lip quivered and for an instant, I thought she might cry, but then the wicked face appeared again. “I am still a virgin,” she said in a voice of ice, then looked at me with such contempt, my heart jumped at its cruelty. “But what I do with my body is my own business. No one owns me,” she declared emphatically.

I stared at her for a moment. “I think Father would dispute that.” I paused. “This was Dagna, wasn’t’ it? What has he done to you, Roseline?”

“Only what I wanted him to do, and I wish he had done more.” she said icily.

“Don’t you want the Great Mother to bless your union? You know we are to come to our marriage bed as virgins. Men and women.”

“That’s a stupid rule. It’s only meant to subjugate women.”

I knew those were not her words, but were they Zahra’s or this Astria person? “You know that is not what the old texts state. You know Great Mother said the reason we should be true to our mate is because she didn’t want us to break our hearts.” I clasped Roseline’s hands in mine. “Great Mother wants us to be happy, without lies, jealousy or pain.”

I could see the tears begin in her eyes. “I think it would be best if you leave now.” Her voice broke as she turned away from me.

I moved next to her, then gently put my arms around her and hugged her close. “There is nothing you could do to make me stop loving you, sister. We are bound forever by our blood. Don’t forget that.” I stepped back and saw my sister looking back, her eyes glistened, and she nodded.

“I won’t,” she whispered, “I will never forget that you are my sister.”

The way she said it made me wonder if she thought it was a blessing or a curse. I kissed her on the cheek and walked out. Something was terribly wrong. I needed to get to the bottom of this scheme.

I could still feel the coldness of Roseline’s stares as I got into my bed. My sister had always been obsessed with appearance, with clothes and the like, but she had never been like… that. I sighed and picked up the book that was saving me by teaching me its secrets to my powers and opened it to the next chapter—“How to Kill a Witch.”

Cassandra

I stared at the ceiling, a lovely mural depicting the blessed muses of the Great Mother dancing in the night sky, and laughed. If things went as I planned, I might soon possess the power to break the Great Mother’s hold over this earth, if Dark Sister would help me and why wouldn’t she?

Too bad the Winnowwood had left the party early, my plans for tormenting her wasted. She was such a little coward, and as stupid as I thought not to have immediately realized who had joined the party when my nightmare knocked her off her feet. It comforted me knowing her to be that dimwitted as it was still a dangerous dance with one so powerful, but it was going so well. I stretched out like a cat, my arms overhead, and gasped—my hand—there was a fleck of a brown spot mottling its perfected appearance.

I leaped out of bed and strode to my full-length mirror and inspected my image in the light of the dawn illuminating my body in all its honesty. I let out another gasp of anger—the whisper of a wrinkle next to my right eye. As I continued my inspection, I found the slightest glimmers of aging—my breasts were not quite as perfectly buoyant as they were yesterday, the slightest dimple on a thigh… this was unacceptable.

I debated what to do. I could return to my cavern today and ensure Francesca had what I required, but it had only been four days since I had last rejuvenated. Perhaps I would wait another day and see what other degeneration took place. I needed to gauge how many infans I would need to retain my current beauty without over-taxing my spleen. There is a point of no return and I would not risk it. Damn Dark Sister for her greed. My body had still not recovered appropriately from that ordeal and was still in a state of rapid depletion.

I let out a deep growl of anger but would not waste my time pining over these small imperfections. I had work to do. I needed a third for my coven and I knew right where to find her.

The chubby, blond woman clutched onto my bone for dear life—that is, her life. I cackled with laughter, feeling her anguish and fear as we roared through the cold daylight air. A group of birds chased after us, desperately trying to keep us in range. My bone soared all the faster, knifing through the air, zigzagging between the mountain tops, but ensuring we would stay within their eyesight. If I had let her speak, chubby blond would be screaming like a banshee, her fear was so great. And while I would have delighted in listening to each and every one of those murderous squeals, since she was supposed to be me, I would not let her shriek her guts out as that would be suspicious. Witches do not scream in terror while flying, it is one of our greatest pleasures. No, this was just a little exercise in subterfuge. I was in my shadow form, holding close to the black cape of chubby blond, whom I had enchanted to ride my bone, so she wouldn’t fall off on her giant ass. The birds were none the wiser.

We leaped across the mountains and entered the kingdom of Cisalpenia, where “the witch” was hiding out when she was not in her cavern. Far down in the valley, on a high knoll overlooking a river of cobalt blue, was the castle of the royal family of Cisalpenia and that was where I was hiding. I laughed out loud, imagining the consternation this would create when that stupid, little princess heard of my flying adventure. She’d feel so clever that her army of flying spies had found me, and that would assuredly give me enough time to work without suspicion under her very nose.

I glided through the castle, still in my shadow form, hunting. I needed to tweak my body and that would call for the sacrifice of an infans, but that was not my first priority. Rumor was there was a cunning young princess of seventeen, the younger sister of that deceased fool of a prince, Victore, and I was seeking her. I moved down the hallway of the royal family’s residence, keeping close to the walls. No one noticed me, why would they? They were buzzing about their new peace treaty, some angry at having been defeated due to Victore’s ambitions, others angrier still that Victore had lost the battle. Mainly, it was the losing. No one likes to lose—least of all, me.

A voice of pure burning rage drew my notice. I drifted closer to the door, then slid under it, moving into the shadows. There she stood—tall and fit, a long brown braid trailing down her back, dressed in a man’s fighting leathers, a sword at her side and a dagger in her hand.

“I will kill them, Essene. The Prince of Alganoun killed my brother and now Father betrays us all by signing an unjust peace treaty with them!” The furor in her voice vibrated off the walls. I liked this girl—she had potential. “I’d rather die than let my brother’s death go unavenged!” I let out a small snicker of delight at her rage.

The dagger split the air, finding its mark directly over my shadow, embedding itself in the wall behind me. I examined her face—utter concentration and confidence. I turned into flesh and bone, carefully watching her reaction. No fear. No mercy. She drew her sword in an instant and moved on me. Until I froze her in place, freezing her friend as well.

“Hello, Princess Keary,” I said, drawing closer to her. “Nice aim,” I sneered. Yes, my presence did scare her momentarily, but no more than that.

“Who are you?” she demanded with a cruelty that I admired.

“Watch your tone or I may end you,” I uttered in a voice of death. That finally unnerved her somewhat, but not enough to break her gaze from mine. Good. She was strong.

“Are you a witch?” she said in a firm voice.

“Yes.”

“Are the legends true?” She managed to keep the fear from her voice, but I could sense the worry, the fear she was working so hard to disguise.

“Yes,” I whispered, “but there is so much more.” I approached her, taking her hand in mine, and filled her with a taste of my power and my rage. I pulled my hand away.

“Yes,” she said, staring solemnly back at me. “Yes, if you will help me avenge my brother’s death.”

I touched her hand again and let her see what we would unleash on them. “They will suffer horrifically,” I whispered in a voice of silken butter.

Her eyes closed in satisfaction and relief for a moment, then looked back to me. “What do I have to do?”

“I don’t like witnesses,” I hissed.

With a lightning-fast move, her sword struck. Essene lay dead on the floor. I smiled, I knew she had potential.

The Offertory Chamber was stark in its beauty—gleaming walls of black granite with matching black floors, the walls lined with torches. In the center was an altar of silver standing three feet high and four feet long. Francesca stood next to that altar, which was occupied by my newest offering—a small girl I had found in Cisalpenia outside the castle walking her dog, which was some type of mutt in much need of a bath, as she’d been. Her beautiful green eyes drew me to her—I had a weakness for green eyes, since they reminded me of my mother’s—it made me enjoy their deaths even more. While I had been born with her eyes, the Great Mother’s curse had turned mine black, which I changed most often to blue, but it cost me. Every change cost me in magic. And that’s why I stood here in this place—rejuvenation.

I moved over to the urchin and stared into those sparkling emerald eyes. She was frightened. Good, the more frightened the better—it made their hearts all the more delectable and saturated with the power I sought—the power of pure, unadulterated terror.

“Please, take me home,” she whimpered pitifully, pleading with me. I smiled, feeling her terror and dread, filling me with joy, with the familiar pleasure this act always gave me. I stroked the black hair away from her face. Now that Francesca had washed all the dirt and filth from her in preparation for the ceremony, I finally noticed the physical similarity she had with me. She could have been my daughter, the luminous, pale skin against her ebony hair. I smiled sympathetically at her. “Only if you are a clever little girl,” I said soothingly. “Are you a clever little girl?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Then I have only one question for you.” I paused as I looked into her eyes. I always asked the same question because, upon occasion, I added one of my infans to my army, but they had to be clever and there was only one answer to the question I asked that would save them. “Why shouldn’t I kill you?”

I could see her carefully contemplate the question, she looked back at me. “Because I will do whatever you ask of me.”

I looked over at Francesca, wondering if she had already helped her. She was often the one who would pick new recruits for me. She shook her head. “Nothing, my witch. I said nothing.”

“What is your name, child?” I asked.

Her eyes met mine. “Ursula.”

I hissed as I jumped back a step. Grabbing the knife that was laid out on the altar, I brought it down in one smooth motion, cutting her throat; those green eyes looking up at me in shock, her gurgled gasps choked by her own blood. I smiled down upon her, cut her chest open with a flick of the blade, reached into her chest and yanked out her still beating heart. “I hate that name!” I screeched as I bit viciously into her heart.

I could feel Francesca’s eyes on me as I ravenously ate, I could feel her surprise. I hadn’t said the words of the ceremony; I had broken with our traditions and rituals that made the death of the infans so lovely. Instead, I acted like a crazed predator. It had caught me off guard. That name. I stuffed the last bits into my mouth, blood running down my face, and turned to her. “Delicious,” I said, then stalked out of the room. Let that remind her of what I was at my core—a predator—the most fearsome predator in the land. I could feel the power of rejuvenation working. I swear to the Dark Sister, my breasts already felt perkier as I strolled down the hallway. What one does for beauty.

What do you do for beauty? Would you do this? I thought so.

Olive

Running through the crystalline snow, the crisp air burning my lungs, I felt alive again. I put my worries behind me, delighting in the feeling of the strength in my immense body and the joy of being in the forest again. The clean pine-scented air, the soft snow under my pads cushioning every step I took, I felt whole again. I had missed this important part of who I was for far too long.

I can feel your joy, I heard Bear say in my mind. You should travel as a bear more often. I certainly find it the perfect form to live in.

I snorted a chuckle. You are perfect, my friend. I glanced behind me. Are you all right, Side Stripe?

The little fox ran in my tracks that cleared a path for him through the heavy snow. I’m glad to be out of that castle.

I growled my agreement and started up the hill to the glen. It was a relief to be away from the palace and all its current intrigue. Master Berthou would be out for the rest of the week due to a mysterious family emergency, and I was taking advantage of my freedom and intended to practice my powers far away from prying eyes.

The path up the hill, well hidden in the heavy brush, trees, and bushes, was narrow and steep. By the time we reached the summit, I was panting with exertion. Bear, Side Stripe, and I broke through the tree line at last and entered the glen. There were a few animals around: a family of rabbits, a moose drinking from the lake, and a few deer grazing for the few morsels of summer grass remaining to be found as they pawed the snow.

Side Stripe moved next to me. Someone’s out of shape, he snickered softly as I continued panting.

I grinned at him, which must have looked foolish on the face of a huge, orange-furred bear. I nodded. I need to get out more.

Now, to test my new magic—I stood, lifting my hairy arms over my head and without saying a word, I changed back into myself. Instead of using that old childhood spell I had been taught, I merely thought what I wanted to do and focused on my words—it was so easy. It made me wonder again about the depths of my magic. There would be a full moon next week. Great Mother said she would come to me in my dreams on the night of the full moon and I hoped she would answer some of my questions this time, like how to kill the witch.

I stood in the chilly air, warm in my heavy cloak, looking out at the beauty of this place—the place that had always been my second home: the pristine snow blanketing the meadow, the lake glistening like a silver mirror in the early morning light, the snow-laden branches of the trees, all surrounded by towering mountains—it was lovely and filled me with a quiet power I was only beginning to be aware of, this feeling that I was one with this natural world. I took a deep breath. “Time to get started.”

I strode over to the fire pit and touched a log, igniting the wood, and fire leaped to life. I had always been able to do that for as long as I could remember, it was another trick my mother had taught me when I was small, but now, I was hoping to see what else I could do with fire. Bear helped me throw six more logs onto the fire until we had it roaring. “That’s good,” I said, nodding my approval.

We both moved away. I pointed at the fire with my left hand and focused—the fire roared higher. I took a deep breath, thinking of my words and embodying them in my spirit and focused again. I moved my arm in a circle and the fire became a tornado of heat flowing upward into the sky. I could feel the ease of it, that I was capable of so much more than this. I rapidly circled my hand and the tornado of fire went up, up, up until it rose into the clouds above. I sliced my arm downward—the fire fell serenely back into the fire pit as if it had not just danced high in the cold air above us. With a quick flick of my wrist, a ball of fire rose in the air over the pit, closing the short distance until it was floating effortlessly in front of me.

Bear stared at me. That was impressive.

I feel like I’m only beginning to understand my powers, like I have this deep reservoir of power inside of me that is only waiting for me to figure out how to use it. I moved my hands in front of the ball of fire to warm them. After a few moments, I flicked my finger at the fire pit and the ball of fire returned to its home.

Side Stripe came up next to me. Wow! What else can you do?

We shall see, my friend. We shall see. I turned to the lake and raised my left hand, so easily focusing my strength—a curtain of clear water lifted fifty-feet high into the air. Concentrating my power, I pushed both hands upward until the water was utterly motionless and spread out in a canopy over us. I could feel the water, the individual drops amidst the union of the mass. I slowly breathed out and the wall of water turned into hundreds of thousands of droplets shining like crystals through the sun’s rays. I moved my hand slightly and the droplets lined up in columns, one over the other, creating prisms upon prisms as the light from one bounced through the one beneath it and on and on… the rainbows splitting and multiplying, shining like an ethereal dance of color upon us. It was spectacular.

A thunderous roar behind me broke my concentration for a moment and that’s all it took—the thousands of droplets released from the sky and drenched us. I turned, my cloak now soaked, and there stood Cougar, looking rather sheepish in her wet fur. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were here. The light was … frightening.”

“No worries, Cougar. In fact, you’ve helped me,” I said, smiling at her in my drenched clothes. “You’ve taught me that I need to be more focused so that surprises don’t break my concentration. Let’s use it for another experiment.” I put my hands out and spoke silently to the individual drops of water and told them to rise. They lifted from me, leaving me dry, and from the animals, so their fur was soft and warm again—I pushed my hands and they all flew back into the lake.

I stared at the water for a moment and could feel it calling to me, as if it were in my nature too. I held my hand out and let the water speak; my hand began to change until it was made of water encased in transparent skin, but I could feel how easy it would be to let it take me. I felt a shudder go down my spine; what power was lying in wait for me to find? I pushed the water back and my flesh and blood hand returned. I let out a long breath as my mind whirled with possibilities.

I had already unleashed lightning and controlled the wind when I sank the Druzazzi fleet; now I knew I could control fire and water as well. What else? What were the real powers of Winnowwoods? My powers were being revealed to me and I stood humbled at the potential of this gift. I let loose a sigh of true relief—I would not be afraid of the witch. I didn’t care how old she was, the powers that I could unleash on her…I would kill her at the earliest opportunity. She would not harm my people, nor take any more children to enable her vicious plans. I felt a thrumming against my chest as if in answer to my thoughts.

My hand clasped around the orb; it hummed and purred in my grasp. I could feel how pleased it was that I was realizing my power. Come to me. I hadn’t heard a word from Ursula since the dream in the Retreat. A feeling of relief washed over me; she was calling me again. She would help. I was sure of it.

I lay on the rug in front of the fireplace, pleased to be back in the Retreat. I had flown back to the castle and come in through the Winnowwood hole in the wall to find it empty. Bart was still engaged with the diplomatic delegation from Cisalpenia finalizing the details of the peace treaty with the delegates from Rosemount and Alganoun. Our fathers were there as well. It would be a relief when all of that was resolved and the entire country would be at peace again.

That’s why I had to destroy this singular witch before she could disrupt our lands any more than she already had. I calmed my mind and focused on the tiny beats the orb emitted—tick, tick, tick—I matched my breathing rhythm to calm myself and closed my eyes.

“Hello, Olive,” I hear her soft, resonant voice. My eyes open. I look around. I’m standing in the most beautiful hall I have ever beheld—an immense room of sailing white granite walls ending in an arched ceiling constructed of glass and pearl. Thirty-foot-high stained-glass windows line the walls. Daylight drenches the room, its rays of light rainbowing the shadows away like a living act. There is no darkness here. As if darkness was forbidden to enter this realm. In the middle of the space stands a magnificent tree that pulses with magic, I can feel it from where I stand, and it draws me to it.

“Where are you?” I ask as I move to touch the lower branch of the tree, deep emerald-green leaves of utter perfection. When my hand makes contact with the branch, I feel her. I feel Ursula in the tree, then hear her laugh.

“You’ve figured me out,” she says breathlessly. “Have you realized you can become one with trees?” For a moment, the image of the tree seems to vibrate, then Ursula emerges from the heart of the tree—majestic in a gown of flowing white, a diadem of white gold intertwined with leaves of emeralds on her head.

I know my mouth’s open and I take a breath to gather myself, it’s all so heartbreakingly beautiful. “I… I did not know,” I manage to utter.

Ursula smiles, then strokes a branch. “Did you know this is your namesake?” My face obviously shows my confusion. “This is the Olive Tree, the most blessed and powerful tree of the Winnowwood. It is ancient and wise and was a gift from Great Mother when this hall was established.”

“My namesake?”

“Yes, your mother was given a dream from the Great Mother which told her to name you Olive. The Great Mother wanted to give you a name that would give you strength.”

“The Great Mother? She named me herself?”

Ursula nods. “Rather remarkable, isn’t it?”

I nod, a bit overwhelmed with the information. “What is this place?” I ask.

Ursula’s smile fills with a mixture of pain and glory. “This was the Great Hall of the Guides. Magnificent, isn’t it?”

I turn and examine the room more closely, taking in the splendor of the sun-kissed space. The magical tree rises high into the air, its long, bushy branches full and lush, skimming the glass of the ceiling panes. It makes me want to climb it, up to its peak and look out of that crystal ceiling. I turn my head and look to the front of the room, which is occupied by a platform of green and gold granite upon which sits a beautiful throne crafted of aspen, its white wood embellished with a multitude of substantial emeralds and intricate rune carvings.

“Hall of the Guides? I’ve never heard of it,” I say.

“It no longer exists,” Ursula quietly states, the look in her eyes reflects utter devastation. “It hasn’t existed for five hundred years.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“The witches destroyed it,” she says, then leads me in front of the tree where a wooden bench appears seemingly from the tree itself, and we take a seat. Ursula’s hand reaches out and strokes the tree. I copy her and swear it feels like the tree pulses with pleasure in response. “We are only dreaming together, visiting a treasured memory of mine. I am going to tell you our true history, for there is much you need to know. I will visit you more often in the days ahead because you have so much to learn, and I will help you learn it.”

I look back at her, waiting for her to continue. She stares at me a moment. “I don’t want you to be afraid. Know that your powers will protect you, when you learn how to wield them all—the powers you were born with as well as the powers given to you through the memories from your dead sisters.” She strokes my hand. “And you will learn, Olive.” She puts her hand gently under my chin and lifts my face to hers. “You must learn it all because you will be the only one to stop the darkness from taking over this world.”

A shiver runs down my spine. This world? My world? The entire world? I decide it’s best to wait and listen before I fall apart.

And so, I hear the legend that forever changes my life.

Ursula’s beautiful voice turns solemn as she begins her tale. “For well over a thousand years, there were no witches, no Winnowwoods, there were only Guides. We were the personal acolytes of the Great Mother given supernatural powers as a gift from her to protect all her creatures and this beautiful planet. We were selected at birth and raised in an abassey where only women, who were Guides themselves, were allowed to enter. Our education was regimented and exclusive and we were extraordinarily powerful. If you were to combine the powers of a Winnowwood and that of a witch, you would have the power of a Guide.”

She pauses for a moment, taking her time remembering the past. “Power,” she whispers with longing, “amazing power. Over nature. Over humans. Over everything. The Great Mother had given us her trust to use our powers to ensure her creatures were provided for and protected, but not interfered with, or at least, as little as possible. But she was betrayed. The power was too seductive, too tantalizing for some of the Guides to resist and before we were hardly aware of it, a split developed. I was barely over two hundred years old when it happened, a proverbial baby in the world of the Guides.”

“How long did Guides live?” I ask.

“Indefinitely.” Ursula smirks, nodding at my surprise. “Yes, she richly blessed us, and for it, we betrayed her. The Guides who rebelled had begun to use their powers for their own benefit, sacking cities for their wealth, and controlling humans for their own desires. They referred to it as Captivation, where they could turn any human into their puppet by controlling their mind, which was anathema to the Great Mother; we were here to protect the humans, not subjugate them. The rebels had set up enclaves of power, hedonistic realms of debauchery, where the power of beauty, lust, riches and greed were venerated. Remember, they could control people, animals, the weather, the elements as well.”

“It’s staggering to think of,” I say.

Ursula’s face is a mask, keeping all of the raw emotion of her story from her expression. “Without going into all the unfortunate details, a surprise attack by the rebels was made on this complex, which, at that time, housed over five hundred Guides and Acolytes in training. Hundreds died in the first moments of their well-executed attack before the Great Mother intervened. She split the Guides into witches and Winnowwoods, then placed her curse on the witches, limiting their powers to the things they lusted after and blessed the Winnowwood with enough powers to suppress the witches and keep them under their control.”

I had to interrupt. “Why didn’t Great Mother kill them? Why did she let them live to wreak havoc on the rest of us?”

Ursula doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “I remember her words when I asked her that same question.” She looks me in the eye, a slight smile on her lips. “I couldn’t understand it either, when she could have struck them down with a thought.” She strokes the tree again; it lets out a groan that sounds like purring. It makes me smile, so I stroke it as well and it groans again.

“Great Mother said that she would not kill her creatures, because you cannot kill evil, that evil is always with us. And if forces of good are not vigilant, are not courageous and true, then evil will win out, and it should win, if we are not brave enough to fight it.”

I sit still, contemplating her words… Evil will win out and should if we are not brave enough to fight it. What are a people if they are not brave enough to stand up for what they believe in? It is a lot to consider, and I know I will spend a great deal of time thinking about those words.

“This Great Divide, as it became known, creating the witches and Winnowwood, occurred five hundred years ago,” Ursula says. She pauses, looking carefully at me again, before continuing. “And now you must decide if this world is worth fighting for.”

I’m silent as I consider what she’s told me. While it is certainly fascinating, I’m not sure how it changes anything I now face. “I thought you knew that answer already. You know I’ll fight the witch.”

Ursula’s face is grim. “There will be far more to fight then one witch.” I’m sure my face shows my confusion; she strokes my hand. “But for today, let’s focus on this witch. The leader of the Guides who rebelled”—she takes my hand in hers— “was a very young Guide named Cassandra.”

My eyes grow wide. “Is she the one who became Cassandra Dragon Slayer?”

An agonizing look of sadness fills Ursula’s face. “Yes. The witch you now face…” she clenches my hand in hers and tears begin to run down her face “… is my daughter.”

It feels like my heart stops, and I gasp. I stare at her in shock. “Your daughter?” I manage to mumble.

Ursula nods, her eyes cast downwards, still clutching my hand. “On my hundredth birthday, I was bred to a King as the Great Mother thought we would create a brilliant Guide.”

“You were bred?” I ask, confused.

“As a Guide, we were not allowed to marry, to have families. Remember, we were selected as a small child to become a Guide and part of that bargain was giving up a human existence. If one was chosen, Great Mother would allow us to breed to expand our numbers, always hoping to create powerful women who would then become powerful Guides. It was considered a great honor to be selected for breeding, and quite rare.” She lets out a long sigh of sadness. “My daughter was a prodigy from the moment she was born, exceptional in every way. I tell you this as a warning: Cassandra Dragon Slayer was born as a Guide, she has latent powers that could be reactivated under the right circumstances,” she says in a voice as quiet as the night.

“What would those circumstances be?” I whisper.

She looks me in the eye. “Your death.”

It feels like everything stops. Even the rays of the sun turn icy as my mind reels with this information.

Ursula takes my hand and places it around the orb. “Breathe,” she commands.

I can feel the comfort of the orb as it pulses in my hand, filling me with a quietness, pulling me away from the hysteria that threatens to overwhelm me. I breathe, closing my eyes and letting the calmness of the orb take me. Nothing has changed, I think to myself. I knew she wanted to kill me. More breaths. I open my eyes to meet the concerned, tear-filled eyes of Ursula.

“I am sorry,” she says. “But I thought it best you know.”

“No one’s seen her yet,” I say.

Ursula smirks slightly. “I doubt that.”

“The Bestiallas have searched for her and no strangers have appeared at Court.”

Ursula sighs. “She will find a way in, if she hasn’t already. She will be beautiful and clever and have a story that will allow her access to you. In her early days as a witch, she preferred beautiful royals or very clever women as her recruits.” She looks down, ashamed. “I was always so proud of her cleverness… her powers were so magnificent. But instead of fulfilling the Great Mother’s wishes, she followed her own desires and fell into a life of the most disreputable debauchery and darkness.” There was a look of steel in her eyes when they met mine again. “You must be merciless and never hesitate when given the opportunity to destroy her.”

I slowly nod. “What is the best way to kill her?” I ask meekly, wishing my voice wasn’t giving me away.

“Lightning. Fire. She has no defense to those. And remember to collect the ash from her remains once you burn her. There is tremendous power in witch ash, even regeneration.” Her eyes search mine and I know she’s wondering if I will be strong enough to do it. Finally, a slow smile touches her lips. “I have sent you protection as well.”

“How?”

“Just as I knew one day you would be in my Retreat, I knew one day you would marry the heir of Alganoun and when you do, you will activate a long-held spell on my bloodline.”

“I knew Bart and I were charmed, I could feel it when I kissed him.”

Ursula’s lips curl up like a cat’s. “And by the look on your face, it appears you enjoy kissing him?”

I giggle. “Very much. He’s a wonderful man.”

With that, I see some pride return to Ursula’s face. “That’s good.” She strokes my cheek. “You should marry as soon as possible to put my spell into place.”

“What will happen?” I ask.

Ursula smiles with smugness. “I think I’ll leave it as a surprise for your wedding night.” She looks at my face and sees the disappointment. “Don’t worry, Olive, it will make you very happy.”

She grasps the orb in her hand. “I’m glad the Great Mother gave you this. Its primary power is helping to clear your mind and focus, giving you more access to your powers, but it has other protective powers as well. If you ever doubt what you should do, let the orb help you find your way. If you feel your powers diminishing, hold it tight and it will concentrate them. It will always do what is necessary to protect you.” Her eyes hold caution. “Use it wisely and it will help you find the answers you seek. It cannot be removed unwillingly from you. If there is danger, it will dissolve into your skin where it cannot be seen. Obviously, take heed if that happens.” Her hand reaches out to push a wayward curl away from my face. “It always helped me find my way. I’m sure it will do the same for you.”

She stands, holding my hand in hers and I stand with her. “I have left another gift for you in the retreat,” Ursula says. “The orb will guide you to it.”

My free hand instinctively clutches the orb.

“Lastly,” she says, then pauses and gently touches my face. “You need to know this is only the beginning. The world is falling into darkness and has lost its way. You will be the last hope of this generation… perhaps all generations. Prepare for battle.”

My eyes close and the magic of the tree and the power of the orb return me to sleep.

My eyes opened. I stared at the ceiling of the Retreat, my left hand clasped around the orb. Prepare for battle! What had she meant by that? The witch was here in my lands, what other battle would there be? We defeated the Druzazzi, our island was united, peace would rule these lands as soon as the kingdoms signed the documents this very day. I needed to focus, to focus on finding and killing this witch.

I gazed at the orb; it shimmered with the green gold of the Winnowwood, with tiny lightning bolts shooting across its world. “Well?” I asked. “Ursula said you would take me to it.” If the orb could laugh, that was how it felt in my hand. It made me smile.

I didn’t have to wait for long. I could feel it as if it were speaking, and it led me to the narrow side of the room. I stood gazing at a thick wall. My hands traced the cold stones as I examined the area closely. I looked back at the rest of the room, seeing how the walls had narrowed markedly here as if the room had been sliced in two. Then it clicked into place in my head and I knew it was a secret room. What in the world could it hold? I turned back to the wall and saw it at once—a round hole in a cleft right below my chin. The orb pulled towards it and I stepped closer until it latched itself into the hole. Immediately, there was a click, and the outline of a small door became clear. I pushed on the smooth stones and walked in.

Cassandra

The pain was delectable. I stood silently, my left hand outstretched into the blackness of the key lock, a tiny blade slicing and dicing my little finger as the magic analyzed whether a true witch of this coven was seeking entrance into the Hoard of the Witches, testing my black blood, questioning its purity, torturing me for its pleasure. After several long moments, I felt the click and my hand pushed forward, free to release the rock lever that unlocked the entrance—the six-inch thick iron door swung open. I removed my hand from the lock; the power of my body had already healed the damage inflicted.

Darkness embraced me as I stepped forward, the door shutting securely behind me—a second protection for anyone trying to enter this most precious cavity. You might get in, but you’d never get back out. We had carved this cache out of the mountain with our powers. I took a deep breath—the smell of riches, and of power and greed, greeted me.

My wand pointed at the top of the cavern. “Luminarium,” I quietly stated, the word echoing in the immense chamber. Hundreds of candles ignited revealing the hoard in all its malevolent glory, riches stolen through deceit, death and exploitation from around the world. I shuddered with happiness, recounting the memories that had brought this treasure to this place, and just as quickly, the memories turned to gloom since none of my sisters were here to share in it—turned into ash in an instant by my mother.

I had wondered for four hundred years, if I had been there that night, would she have destroyed me as well? Yes, I always concluded. After what I had done to her and the Guides, she would not have hesitated. But Mother had had her chance once before that night to kill me and hesitated for a heartbeat to take it, giving me time to escape, which I’m sure she regretted with every bone in her body. Unfortunately, she had been clever enough to collect the ashes of my dead sisters, knowing I would come searching for it, forever sealing their eternal fate to death with no chance for resurrection, unless that ash could be found. I took a calming breath, remembering my bitter disappointment when I could find no trace of them, knowing she had anticipated my action. But, Mother, I am alive and well and I will kill your descendants, both your prince and the Winnowwood who holds your magic, and then your legacy will be ashes as well.

My eyes took in the magnificent contents of the cave. Chenine had overseen managing this trove of our most precious objects as she was an excellent organizer. Her talents were on full display before me now: the right side was stacked with rare jewels and precious metals, sorted into large piles and stacks. I meandered over to the barrels of diamonds, grouped into different sizes—the largest the size of pheasant eggs. I picked one up and palmed it as I further explored. Tubs of emeralds, rubies, sapphires, pearls, topazes, aquamarines, opals, on and on—all sparkled and twinkled in the candlelight like an alchemist’s ultimate rainbow. But these were not the true treasure.

Against the far wall were the finished items, the most spectacular pieces of set stones ever assembled—crowns of glimmering gems, tiaras, diadems, rings, bracelets, earrings, hair ornaments, jeweled slippers, bodices, all set in gold, silver, platinum and other mysterious alloys. But none of these caught my eye. I moved to the crown in the center resting on rich black velvet—though it was not the most ostentatious, it was the most powerful, for it was the crown of the Queen of the Witches.

It was made from the same alloyed metal as the blade that created us—it shimmered with that same mercurial darkness, emitting that same warning of wickedness. In the light, it appeared alive. Immense stones of black diamonds and blood rubies adorned the crown with six knife-like spikes rising six inches high, scalding the air with its treachery. The spikes shimmered in the darkness, almost appearing snake-like, as if the spikes could turn and slither down your throat and strangle you. They could. As the blade attempted to kill one until it confirmed you were a witch, this crown would strangle you, or drive its spikes into your brain if you were not the Queen of the Witches and attempted to wield its power. My hands moved slowly to it, cautious, knowing its force, its power. I gently petted it as its power tickled my fingertips. “Soon,” I purred, gently whispering this promise to myself and to my dead sisters. “Soon.”

I turned my attention to the objects I was seeking; these were on the left wall. This is where the real power of the Hoard lay—the trinkets and objects of true magical power: they could raise a human from the dead, create a witch, raise a witch from her ashes, place wicked curses on kingdoms for eternity and so much more. The more… that is what thrilled me to my black core. More. I would soon rule this world! And here was the means to the beginning of my coven.

My hands touched one of the small black wooden boxes, the runes cut into its sides explaining and warning the world about its power. I snapped a box open, revealing what appeared to be an insignificant silver object: it was forged into the shape of a new moon the size of my little finger, and like a new moon, this silver crescent promised so much more as time passed.

I took three of the boxes and placed them carefully into my pocket. In four days, under the light of the full moon, I would transform the three princesses into witches. The beginning. It was only the beginning. I looked up at the stacks of identical black boxes lining the wall high before me—there were thousands. And soon, by the blood of the Dark Sister, there would be thousands of witches standing behind me.

I took a deep breath of pleasure at that thought, then let it go. I needed to stay focused, for there was one last item to collect and it would be the one that would capture the Winnowwood.

It slid it into my pocket, then I let out a howl of pleasure. No one knew of the device, no dead Winnowwood would be able to warn her, to offer their assistance. By the Dark Sister, she would be mine. To feed off of. To lay waste to. To claim every drop of power she possessed.

And you will be there to watch it all. Enjoy.

Olive

My sister looked so very pleased with herself, as did Zahra. The invitation had come at the last moment—dinner with Bart’s family in their private suite. So, the families had gathered and, if I were to guess, it was because Zahra and Roseline had wanted it so. I felt Bart’s hand on my shoulder and turned to see his wary face.

“You made it,” I said.

“Barely,” he said. “The members of the delegation of Cisalpenia will depart in the morning; your parents, the following day.”

“I hope the peace will hold.”

“Particularly in this room.” Bart’s eyes darted about taking in the mood of the group. “Why does it feel like a performance is about to start?”

“So, you feel it too?” I softly replied.

Bart nodded. “Our sisters appear to be waiting for something.”

Zahra stepped forward. “Shall we sit? I believe the first course is ready to be served.” I saw her nod at the servant in the corner. It was that same beautiful, young girl, the one with the startling blue eyes.

“It appears they were waiting for you,” I whispered.

“Then let the games begin,” he whispered in return, giving me a smile of encouragement, “as it appears we may be one of the courses.”

They waited until dessert to begin their attack, just as my favorite chocolate flan with miniature strawberries was served. If I were to attribute an atmosphere to the dinner conversation up to that point, it would have been one of icy hostility. Zahra had again beseeched her father to change the Law of Succession. He had refused to engage her and had only given her a withering, “No.” To me, the look Zahra had given Roseline after that response seemed to be a sign of some type. I could tell Zahra did not consider the topic closed.

As I took a bite of the delicious concoction, Zahra opened her mouth to speak, “Olive, you have previously claimed you prefer honesty in your personal dealings with people. Is that still true?” She was sitting directly across from me and her eyes tore at me like a scythe.

I slowly swallowed the flan, taking my time, as I knew the battle was now joined. “Yes, I prefer honest communication whenever possible.”

“I thought so.” She continued to stare at me in a contemptuous manner. She turned and nodded at the blue-eyed servant, who walked over to her and placed something into Zahra’s hand. “I debated what to do, but as you have chosen to ignore your dear sister’s warning, I felt it best that we get this issue out into the open, so to speak, and not hide anything from our families.”

I stared back at her, summoning my strength. “Do continue, as you appear to think you are in possession of something of importance.”

“You and my father seem to think my little brother so very precious, that he can do no wrong, that he is the deserving person to wear this country’s crown.” She looked at Bart as if he were garbage. “But would you still believe that if you knew the truth?”

Zahra’s gaze was so dark, so cruel, it gave me pause, but I did not take the bait, did not respond, except to stare at her with my own look of challenge.

The corner of her lips turned up as she stood, prowling slowly around the table towards me. She reminded me of a well-pleased cat who had cornered a mouse. “My new friend, Astria, is very beautiful as well. More importantly, she is a very independent woman who takes what she wants.” Zahra was now standing directly behind Bart’s and my chairs. Her hand stretched out between us, still fisted. “And it appears for some unknown reason, she wanted my little brother.” Her hand opened, and a large ruby and diamond earring plunked unto the table between us. “Do you believe a man who is an immoral, lying cheat is truly deserving of the crown of Alganoun?”

I reached out my hand and picked up the earring and inspected it. It was a marvel of craftsmanship, the exquisite silver setting encircling the beautiful stones in an evil embrace. How could evil be contained in an earring? Because it was her earring. Everything about her was evil, including this earring. I dropped it onto the table.

I could feel my heart break and looked over to my sister—though she had a smirk on her face, her hand went to the left side of her face. That told me everything I needed to know. I could feel the tears begin and spill down my cheeks.

“Yes, my handmaiden found this in Bart’s bedding after Astria told me of its disappearance. So, I retrieved it for her,” Zahra said with utter satisfaction.

I glanced over to Bart, who was livid. He threw back his chair and stood to face Zahra. “You lie, sister,” he stated with a coldness that I had never heard before. “But the better question is why? Why are you lying?”

“You bedded her!” Zahra shrieked like an unhinged shrew, then looked down at me. “And you’re going to marry this liar? This fornicator?”

She waited for my response. For what I was to say. And then I found the only words I had to say, “No. I will not.” With tears streaming down my face, I again looked at my sister, whose face now showed a look of such delight, such rapture, that the tears fell all the faster. With a last look at Bart, who gazed back at me with such sadness in his eyes, I turned and ran out of the room.

I could hear the voices shouting as I ran away, our fathers, our sisters, Bart, each demanding to know what had happened. But I knew what had happened, I had been betrayed. And the life I had once imagined, would never exist.

It was past midnight as I eased my door open—no one was in sight. I changed into a bat, the better to fly in the darkness. My mother had come to my rooms, but I had begged her to leave me alone until morning. I couldn’t talk to her now. Couldn’t describe the sense of betrayal I felt, not when it had wounded me so deeply.

The guards didn’t even look up as I flew over their heads, down the hallway towards the Retreat, past the armor, turning sharply, down the hallways, and alighted in front of the door and changed back into my human form. I knelt, placing my hand upon the green stone, it opened, and I ran into the chamber, desperation nearly choking me.

I rounded the corner into the main room and breathed a sigh of relief—Bart was there waiting for me as we had planned. I ran to him, his strong arms enveloping me and holding me so tight.

“I’m so sorry, Olive,” he whispered softly.

My lips found his, letting him know with every kiss, with every touch, that nothing had changed between us. We had known what was waiting for us and we had prepared for battle, just as Ursula had warned. Our sisters had betrayed us and were now doing the bidding of Cassandra Dragon Slayer. What came next would decide all our fates.

When I had crossed the threshold into the secret chamber earlier that day, I was met with an astonishing surprise—there in the center of the room stood the white aspen throne of the Guides. On the wall to the left, an armory of vicious, deadly weapons pulsed with power—unusual arrows, brutal cudgels and an array of knives and swords that glimmered with cruelty. There were other objects of iron and various other metals that I had no understanding of, but still reeked of power and death.

On the right side was a glassed cabinet with sixteen small boxes, each locked. Next to them, a crown of white gold with leaves of emerald—the crown Ursula had worn in my dream. Numerous other treasures were displayed, but that’s not where my focus was.

Because the true treasure stood at the end of the chamber—the Olive Tree. It was only fifteen feet high, obviously made from a cutting of the original, but I now knew it would contain the memories of the ages. I would not have known what their significance was, except for my dream with Ursula. Somehow, someone had managed to save all of this from the ruins of the Great Hall of the Guides and Ursula had brought them here. The orb purred its happiness, filling me with peace and calm. As I drew near the throne, I could feel its power—it affected every cell of my body, making me want to sing with joy for the bliss of pure love and goodness. My hand caressed the white wood of the arm, it thrummed delightedly in response.

I moved to the tree and stroked it as I had in my dream. It murmured with pleasure as I gently rubbed its branches, feeling the power dancing among its leaves kissing my fingertips. Oh, Ursula, you had left the power of the Winnowwood, perhaps some of the power of the Guides, in this hidden room. A treasure of unspeakable and, at present, unknowable wealth for me to use. I calmed myself, knowing this was as the Great Mother had promised. Thank you, Great Mother, thank you from the bottom of my soul.

I turned back to the throne, took a deep breath, then gently sat down. The feeling that filled me was hard to describe, but if I were to try to articulate it, I would say that I felt like I was suffused with the power of light, of all things that were good and decent in this world. It was utterly transformative to be imbued with that goodness, that sense of light and well-being. I breathed in deeply, focusing on the pureness of it and felt my bones strengthen, as if each and every single cell of my being was being blessed with that power, and it cleared my mind.

More than that, every memory that had been bestowed to me by my Winnowwood sisters was now clearly set in my mind, sitting there waiting for me to draw from with no more pain in my head from their addition. They were now carefully organized as offensive and defensive weapons for me to use. It was as if I now possessed an encyclopedia of knowledge of the Winnowwood within my mind, which now felt as clear as crystalline water and, oh, so much more powerful. I was thankful I had already begun to expand my vast powers, and with their knowledge given back to me, I could feel my power grow exponentially. I was transformed.

As I thought about the witch, only one image came to mind—that of the woman who had shown up at the ball right before the feeling of evil overcame me. And that woman was Roseline and Zahra’s new friend. What the birds had told me about following a blond witch south to Cisalpenia was just an effort on her part to mislead me; that, for whatever reason, she needed that misdirection for the plot she had made. Fine, let me look to her plot and understand it.

I had waited for Bart, watching the flames of the fire, knowing that was how I would destroy her. I held out my hand and a ball of fire formed in the hearth, then moved through the air to my left hand. With a flick of my wrist, it smashed back into the hearth, creating a flurry of sparks and flames cascading across the soot-covered bricks. Ursula had told me to kill her daughter as soon as I had the chance. I would take that advice to heart.

I glanced over to Bart’s desk, where I had laid the quiver of arrows that I was told to give him when I had sat on the throne, a whispering voice of warning telling me to arm my beloved to keep him safe. The same voice had directed my hands when I selected the arrows and placed them into the magnificent quiver adorned with ribbons of gold and silver woven into its cloth. The fletchings were constructed of assorted rich feathers, the blades of various metals and designs, several of which I was not familiar with. One looked like liquid mercury, another blue-hued exuding enchantment. Each of the arrows felt brutal and deadly in my hand, but the one of liquid mercury felt particularly lethal.

I heard the soft whisper of the door open and Bart’s steps in the hall. He quickly strode across the room, dropped to his knees in front of me, and laid his head on my knees. “Diplomacy is exhausting.”

I stroked his head and he let out a contented sigh that reminded me of the tree’s sigh earlier. I smiled; it seems we all need these signs of love to be happy.

He finally pulled away and looked into my eyes, taking me in for several long moments. “You seemed changed.”

“In a bad way?” I queried.

He continued to stare at me, then finally replied. “No, if anything, I would say you actually seem even more powerful.”

I stated back at him, marveling that he could feel the change. “I am changed, my love, and I hope you will delight in it.”

He smiled at me. “Tell me.”

“I will, but first, I need to tell you that I believe our sisters are working in cahoots with Cassandra Dragon Slayer and, I believe, they are trying to break our engagement.”

Bart sat down in the chair across from mine. There was no look of shock, only a look of despair on his face. “That thought has crossed my mind as well.”

“Why?” I asked. What had Bart held back from me? Perhaps we both had secrets.

“The day after the ball, Zahra approached me and told me this ridiculous story that Roseline had told her: that she saw Prince Dagna exiting your bedroom at dawn.” He huffed out a sound of disgust. “I told her to shut her stupid mouth and not repeat such a ridiculous lie.” He looked away to the fire. “But there was this look in her eyes. I’d never believed all of the warnings before of her wanting to kill me”—he looked back to me—“but at that moment, I did.”

“Roseline told me the same kind of lie. That Zahra had seen Astria leaving your room.”

“But why would breaking us up be so important to them?” he asked.

“I think it has to do with the charm. That for whatever reason, the witch does not want us to join,” I stated as calmly as I could.

A sly smile came across Bart’s face. “Well, if that’s your concern, then I say let’s join and we can get that out of the way right now.” He snorted a laugh of delight.

I giggled in return. “Tempting.” My hands reached out to him, Bart kneeled before me, kissing my fingertips. It was like light touching them, warmth, and pleasure. The calling of the charm was intensifying. “Perhaps a compromise.”

Bart’s smile lit up his face. “I’m listening.”

A slow smile crossed my lips. “Would it be possible for us to be married secretly in the coming days? No one would need to know, but I think it would be wise.” I could feel the orb thrum a happy response against my skin.

Bart gently stroked my face, tracing his index finger to my lips. “I agree.”

One of the memories from my sisters whispered to my mind to pick the solstice. That magic could be magnified on the solstice. If that were true and if Ursula’s charm was as potent as it seemed, it might prove wise to make the most of the date.

“The Winter Solstice is in three days,” I said. “Perhaps we could sneak away to the glen and be wed that evening as the sun sets?”

With that, he leaned in and gently kissed my lips, his tongue sliding across them, tickling so softly. “I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier for as long as I live.” He kissed me deep and long, gentleness turning into a demanding pulse as our lips held and spoke to each other. My insides were quivering with desire. With great effort, I pulled back. Oh, this charm was growing so strong. “Perhaps it would be best if you left for the Cave tomorrow and prepared?” I replied, my voice husky with desire.

Bart let out a gasp of frustration, then slowly gathered himself. “Yes, maybe that would be best.”

“Besides, if our suspicions are correct, our sisters will try to break us up this evening and then your absence makes all the more sense.”

For several moments, we both just sat there, calming our thoughts, which had been run out of our heads by our unbridled desire.

Bart slyly grinned, then let out a laugh. “Somehow, I have a feeling our wedding night is going to be rather spectacular.”

I smiled broadly in return. “I think that will be an understatement.” I thought for a moment. “Perhaps I should return to Rosemount? If we are no longer betrothed, why would I stay?”

Bart nodded. “Yes, that might be the expected reaction, but I know you would miss this room.”

“Among other things.” I touched his lips with my fingertips. “I would miss my classes as well,” I giggled. “But tomorrow is the full moon, and I would prefer to be in this room when I sleep. The Great Mother has promised to come to me in my dreams during the full moon.”

“That would be a blessing to have her guidance,” he said solemnly.

“Yes, so I’ll let it be known that I’m packing then leaving with my parents to start my life again on the solstice, but, in fact, that evening, in the last rays of the solstice, we shall secretly marry.” We smiled at each other with delight in our plan.

“Three days,” Bart stated flatly, “why does that seem like an eternity?” He frowned a bit. “I shall worry about you, knowing this witch is working with our sisters to unknown ends.”

“I will be careful, I promise. In fact, I think it’s best that I avoid our sisters until after we’re married. I’ll spend tomorrow at the glen practicing some of the new enchantments I’ve learned under the protection of the Bestiallas. No witch would dare attack me there; she has no power over them, and they would rip her to shreds.”

Bart pulled away from me, settling comfortably into his chair. “I think that would be wise.” He nodded, his concerns lessening. “So, what were you going to tell me when I came in? You seemed to have another story for me to hear.”

I hated holding anything back from Bart, but the Great Mother had instructed me not to tell anyone about my powers nor what had been gifted to me. Next time I saw Great Mother I was going to ask for permission to tell Bart everything, but as I had promised her—I would honor that promise. I looked him in the eye and only said, “I found a secret room.”

A thoughtful look passed over his face, he turned his head and looked towards the narrowed hall in the back. “It’s back there, isn’t it?” I nodded and he grinned slightly. “I always thought the shape of this room was off, especially since Ursula had designed everything with such elegance, yet the shape of the room felt slightly awkward. Can you show it to me?”

“I don’t know, actually.”

Bart lifted an eyebrow in question.

“It is enchanted and, as you know, some of her enchantments are peculiar,” I snickered, “but let’s try.”

We stood and walked towards the wall in the back. As I drew close, the orb thrummed all the stronger and again pulled away from my neck and latched into the hole. With a click, the door swung open, revealing the throne, the olive tree, the myriad of weapons, and I stepped forward.

Bart jerked me back, putting a protective arm in front of me. “Stop!” he shouted.

I turned to him, confused. “But why?”

“You almost stepped into a pit!”

I looked down at the stone floor in the chamber, the same floor on which we now stood. “It is not a pit,” I said slowly, “it is a throne room.”

Bart’s eyes stared ahead at the room. “No, there is danger here, something that touches my soul.”

“Hmm.” I took a step back, Bart stepped back with me. “It appears Ursula put a powerful spell of protection on this room, as you are no coward.” I ran my hand down his cheek. “Yet you feel something evil?”

He reached out, grasping the door and pulling it closed, then let out a sigh of relief. “No one with any sense would walk over that threshold.”

“Interesting,” I said as Bart practically dragged me back to our chairs in front of the fire. I sat down, smoothing my dress, stalling for time. I wondered if this was a warning for me as well, to not disclose what had happened to me. We stared at each other in our opposing chairs.

Bart pulled his closer to mine, so he could hold my hands. “What do you see?”

“What I see is a wall of weapons, a throne of white aspen wood and an olive tree.”

“Did you go in?” Bart asked nervously.

I nodded.

Bart looked down at the floor. “I know I sound foolish, Olive, but the idea of walking into that chamber made me feel that I would certainly die if I passed its threshold.”

I gazed back at him and considered what Ursula would do to protect that room. Anything. She would do anything to protect that room and the power it contained. “I think it may have.” I stroked his hands. “I think the charms in place are stronger than I imagined.” I strode to the desk and picked up the quiver. “Yet it provided a gift to you and because it is a gift, you may take it from this room.” I carried the quiver to him, wondering if it would feel wicked to him. Bart reached out for it and I placed it into his hands. “Does it scare you, my love?”

Bart’s hands quickly inspected each arrow, his fingers caressing each shaft, his eyes closed. For a long minute, he looked almost transfixed. His eyes opened, a look of surprise on his face. “Not in the least. It is almost as if each arrow speaks to me, revealing its power, its secrets. These are a blessing to me, I can feel it.” He put the quiver on the floor next to him. “You said there was a throne of white?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Did you sit down on it?”

I nodded again.

“What happened when you sat down?” he asked cautiously.

I paused, trying to find a way to describe it. “Everything.”

Cassandra

Tomorrow would be the beginning of my rule. The night I would create the first three witches of my new coven under the light of the full moon. The joy I felt was a delectable darkness, and that darkness rubbed against me like a lover, waiting for my embrace. Instead of being imprisoned in that stinking cell, I would celebrate my Phoenix Anniversary by stealing the powers of the Winnowwood. By the Dark Sister, I was grateful for this wicked blessing of power.

The thought of that made me hungry. Hungry for death and the utter devastation of all my enemies—for there were many. Hundreds of years had passed since I was in their lands, they had surely forgotten about me…but I had not forgotten about them. With her powers added to mine, I would be unstoppable. I would have the powers of a Guide again. Omnipotent. I would rule this world and it would be a rule of death and ruin. I licked my lips in anticipation.

The three of them now stood in front of me, doing their best to appear deserving. I could feel their emotions. Roseline emitted the most fear, the terror resting barely below the surface as I stared at her. If it were not for the curse, if not for the power I knew I could cull from that curse, I doubted I would accept her as she lacked any real belief in herself.

As if she had heard my thoughts, I watched as she pushed the fear down, pushed her desire to the top and a harshness filled her face that delighted me. I had to remember she was only sixteen. She had been sheltered. She was vain, insecure and needy, but she did possess that lovely mean streak that showed some potential.

The magic associated with her power would allow her to become a flawless woman in the eyes of any man. In their minds, she would be the utter perfection of every one of their own secret dreams and fantasies. She would need no infans to protect her beauty—not for scores of years. Only the color of her eyes would need enchantment as they would become as black as mine, which I was glad for, as I couldn’t stand her eyes—you know why. Those emerald eyes now stared back at mine with haughtiness and conceit. If she knew how I would test her before I would allow her to be turned, she would crumple before me in a screaming, sweating pile of fear. She would either survive it or not, it was of no concern to me, as long as she played her role and played it well.

I turned to Zahra. Ever since her debauching, she had taken on a bit of a new persona, there was almost a swagger to her walk. She stood before me, her black silk dress cut low to better show her luscious bosom, the waist corseted tightly, her lips posed in an undying pout. Oh, my little vixen, you were proving more talented than I could have imagined.

She too would have her already clear talents amplified during the Witching Ceremony, she would become a deadly seductress. Men would fall at her feet when her “talents” were made known. I might even teach her a few of my favorite tricks.

I faced my last convert, Princess Keary. She stood in her simple leather hunting gear, sword at her side, a multitude of hidden knives assuredly on her body, her bow strapped across her back. She had arrived today as instructed, riding her stallion as if she were part of him. Her body was muscled and fit, her reflexes superb, as I recalled the dagger she had thrown at me with such precision when I first met her.

She would be a deadly assassin and, as she would be responsible for my safety, she would become my Diabolus Custos—the Guardian to the Devil. Not that I would need protection, not with the power I would soon have, but it was a tradition. I must assign a witch as my Custos, and Keary would do it well.

I took a step back from her, then turned and moved to the fire that blazed in the clearing. I looked out to the lake that glimmered like a thousand mirrors in the light of the almost full moon. “Do you know where you are?” I had brought them here after nightfall in the enchanted wagons, directly from the count’s estate. It had taken almost half an hour’s time.

Roseline quickly shook her head. “No, my witch.”

Zahra echoed her. “No, my witch.”

Keary looked up at the stars. “We are in the eastern lands of Alganoun, the Badlands that few visit, as legend says it is cursed and people believe it. If I’m not mistaken, that is Lake Entadaxia, the enchanted Lake of the Witches.”

I smiled at her, my brilliant huntress. “Indeed, it is so, Keary. A special place for a special ceremony. Tomorrow night, at midnight, we begin our conquest of the world.”

I heard a soft hoot from a nearby tree and, just as quickly, the swoosh of an arrow slicing through the air and finding its mark. The owl rustled through the leaves, then hit the ground dead. I glanced over to Keary, the bow still in her hand.

“You don’t like witnesses,” she said with a knowing smirk.

“Always a wise decision,” I smoothly replied. “You may want to save the animal; owls are wise creatures.”

“Why would I want a dead owl, my witch?” asked Keary.

“Because each of you must kill an animal of your choosing at tomorrow night’s ceremony. They will form the spirit of your Exosso.”

“Exosso?” Zahra asked.

“Yes, the bone you will fly on.” I lifted the skirt of my dress; my bone leaped out into my hand. I decided to give them a bit of a show in the moonlight and jumped onto my bone and shot into the air high above them. Then, at the top of her zenith, I leaped off and began plummeting to the ground. I glanced down and laughed at their panicked faces. A moment later, my bone had found me again. I tilted her down and was standing next to them in seconds.

Roseline jumped up and down clapping her hands, Zahra and Keary joined her applause. “Don’t be afraid to fly high; if you were to fall off, your bone will save you. If you fly low, she may not have the chance.” I clasped my bone and placed it close to my left leg, where it curled its way back around my thigh. “Though its formal name is Exosso, witches usually refer to it as their bone because that is what it is made from—your bones.” I watched as a look of fear passed Roseline’s face, even Zahra looked a bit unnerved, but Keary’s face was unmoved.

“I expected pain and suffering in the ceremony. A coward would never make a powerful witch,” Keary stated.

I nodded at her, delighted with her response. “Indeed, you speak truth.” I also noticed the faces of Zahra and Roseline—so jealous. Good, I’d encouraged rivalry among my witches; it would be good to hone them against each other.

“I am not a huntress,” stated Zahra. “How am I supposed to kill an animal?” I could hear the sarcasm in her voice and turned my gaze on her. She nearly swallowed her tongue. After a few moments, she finally found it again. “I am simply curious, my witch,” she added in a voice now turned to honey, her head bowed in submission.

“I will hunt them. You will kill them.” No one shirked from these words.

“May I ask what animal you selected for your bone, my witch?” Roseline quietly said.

I stared at her a moment, glad she had the nerve to ask a reasonable question. I nodded. “I chose the honey badger to form my Exosso. It is fearless, mean, smart, and hard to kill. An excellent choice, wouldn’t you say?”

Roseline nodded, her eyes wide with admiration. “I’ve never heard of the creature.”

“Why would you? I fetched it from the Cursed Continent.” She gave me a nod, though I knew she had no knowledge of that place. Who would in these lands? “You will also create a wand.” Dreambreaker snapped into my left hand. “The most powerful wand is created by that which you most value.”

“I don’t understand,” Roseline softly stated.

“If you want to create a powerful wand, you must sacrifice what you hold most dear. If you put in a toe, your wand will give you the power of a toe. Do. You. Understand?”

Roseline almost collapsed under the weight of my stare, then took a deep breath. “Yes, my witch,” she firmly replied.

“Then prepare for your transformation because it will be upon you tomorrow and you must face it with all the strength you possess.” I turned to the lake. “The waters of this lake form the magical base of the blood spells.” I looked back at them as I continued, “Your power will be derived from the sacrifice you make. If I can give you some advice, choose an animal that represents the strengths you yearn for. As for your wand, choose the item that reflects the thing you most value in yourself. The Witching Ceremony will magnify those powers, so choose well.”

What would you choose? Would you dare to choose?

Olive

I stood in the forest by the glen, warm in the frigid air, encased and embodied in one of its tallest trees, overlooking the valley floor below. It felt like my eyes were as tall as the tree, as if all was within my vision, as if every cell on the trunk could observe its surroundings and remember. It was spectacular.

I loosened my sense of my own being and let the tree’s memories meld with mine; it was almost four hundred years old. I focused on the history that flashed before me, mainly of flora and fauna, of the destruction and renewal of the seasons in dreamy, colorful impressions. But a few images of soldiers in the valley below passed before me as well as the years flew by, some with blue markings, some holding red banners and lastly, my father’s troops marching in the valley below with the yellow banners of Rosemount. I sighed and could feel the branches quiver slightly in response. So much had happened since Father’s ruinous attempt to attack Alganoun, yet not two months had passed. It felt like years.

I could smell the odor of the burning wood that still hung in the air and could feel the apprehension of the tree, as if all its cells were buzzing looking for the potential forest fire. I breathed calm into the tree because I knew there was no danger as I had been the one doing the burning.

I had tested my powers again—with fire; honing them, moving through the glen lighting fires as quickly as I could, then throwing the fire balls I’d created from those flames as fast as I was able at stacks of rocks. The balls leaped through the air with all my wrath, all my power, all my worries. By the end, I could create the flame from the wood, turn it into a fireball and hurl it at the target in less than two seconds. But would I have two seconds? I knew Cassandra’s magic would not work on me, but a sword, a spear or an arrow certainly would. I opened my eyes to the world again and the entire tree shuddered as I let out a deep sigh of worry. The witch was five hundred years old and I was eighteen.

Bear was lumbering towards me through the snow with Side Stripe in his wake. When he drew near, he stood on his hind legs and embraced the tree, letting out a roar. “I have found you, but only because your tracks led me here. I can feel you in this tree.” He ran his claws gently down the bark and it felt like someone was scratching my back, I sighed with pleasure and the tree’s branches quivered again, then I stepped back out into the snow.

Side Stripe was wide-eyed. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I until Ursula showed me,” I said.

“What does it feel like?” Side Stripe eagerly asked.

“Warm. Safe. Like a dream when I looked through its memories of this place. Not much has changed in hundreds of years.”

“You could see what it has seen?” asked Bear. I nodded. “That could be very useful.”

“Yes, it will be. I’m going to the entrance of the Amalthea estate and see who’s been visiting.”

Bear paused for several moments. “An intriguing idea, yet one that worries me as well.”

“Don’t. I won’t stay long.” I glanced up at the sun. It was closing in on midday. “I’d better be on my way, I promised to meet Mother for luncheon. She’s worried since she believes I have broken with Bart.”

“I doubt she believes you”—he grunted a chuckle—“but if you go to the estate, you must take a cadre of protectors with you.”

I nodded my agreement. “I will be cautious, I promise.”

“We’ll leave now as well,” Bear said.

I thought about all that was going on. “You know, Bear, why don’t you and Side Stripe stay here? I’m officially returning to Rosemount tomorrow, but you know I’m actually coming here.” I reached out and stroked his furry cheek. “After all, the day after tomorrow is my wedding day.”

Bear let out a growl of displeasure. “These are dangerous times. You should not be alone.”

“As there is a full moon tonight, I’m planning on spending the night in the Retreat and dreaming with Great Mother; I’ll be very safe there. I’ll return to the glen first thing in the morning. Besides, if I need you, I can always contact you through my thoughts.”

“That would be a very long distance,” mumbled Bear. “We have not tested it before.”

“Then we will test it tonight.” With that, I changed into my eagle form and streaked up into the air. I heard a loud roar erupt from Bear and soon a flock of birds of prey: hawks, eagles, and falcons rose up from the forest and were quickly flying at my side—my cadre of protectors. We headed north.

We circled overhead for a few moments, eyeing the estate below. There were no carriages in the driveway, no servants outside the front entrance area, only in the back with the horses and the fields. I dove down and chose to land high up in the branches of a large oak tree with a clear view of the front courtyard, the other birds settling in the trees close by, quiet and stealthy. I hopped down to the trunk of the tree and entered.

The flavor of this tree was so different from the first, and younger. It had been planted when this estate was built, over one hundred years ago. I raced through the initial years, too many people and events to absorb until I came into the last memories of the tree: there was Cassandra, only weeks ago, entering the mansion—the predator on the move. Zahra. Roseline. On many different days. Dagna! The young girl with the dark curls and blue eyes in the uniform of an Alganoun servant. Its last memories: a fierce woman on an extraordinary beast of a horse. Soon after, Zahra and Roseline. They were all still here. My enemies had gathered. I shuddered with a momentary feeling of panic, then released the fear. I would not let my fear defeat me. Not when everything was at stake.

“I think you’re lying to me, Olive.” My mother’s face stared back at me, not in a mean way, but in a hurt way, which made me feel terrible. “I know you love Bart, deeply; you would not have broken with him over such an obvious lie.”

I had been trying to convince her that I no longer wanted to marry Bart, but she had called me out. We were alone in her sitting room. Father was lunching with King Ivan, reviewing the final agreements for Rosemont’s future—after all, he had attacked Alganoun. I broke my gaze with my mother and looked down at the floor, embarrassed.

I thought of everything that was happening, all unbeknownst to her, and I did feel like a traitor. The thought crossed my mind that I should tell her everything and I could feel the orb purr its pleasure. I focused on that thought—should I tell her the truth? It answered my thought with its sigh of agreement.

I reached over and took my mother’s hand in mine. “The truth is too awful.”

Her eyes gazed steadily back at me in return. “Olive, you are my daughter. More importantly, you are the last of our line. I will do anything to help you, to protect you.” She gripped my hand so tightly that the skin on her knuckles turned white, her face fierce with emotion. “I will lie. I will die. I will kill. You are the one who must live.”

For several moments, I stared at her in return as the orb hummed with happiness next to my skin. “There’s another reason I didn’t tell you the truth,” I said, blinking back tears. “I knew it would break your heart.”

She put her arm around me and held me close. “Now is a good time to begin.”

By the time I had finished telling her everything I knew, only holding back those things I was bound not to reveal by the Great Mother, Mother wavered between sorrow and rage, tears streaked her face. “So, it appears my daughter has committed to becoming a witch.” Her head hung in shame as she took in the truth of what I had revealed. “Then you must kill her,” she whispered so softly the words barely became real.

I nodded solemnly.

“You must kill them all,” she added with a hiss, her emerald eyes flashed with fury. “They must not be allowed back in these lands.”

I nodded again. Killing my own sister? I could never have imagined it truly possible. I had threated to kill her only five months ago when she had nearly killed the doe with her vicious torture, but I had never really believed that I would kill her. And now it appeared I would have to… but I didn’t know if I could really do it. Perhaps I would imprison her.

“The birds are keeping an eye on things and will report to me when they leave the estate,” I said, trying to sound confident, like I knew what I was doing. “I will not let them escape.”

She nodded her agreement. “Tell me how I can help,” she said firmly.

“I need you to contact Bart, tell him this latest information, particularly that Prince Dagna has escaped and is helping them. I can’t trust anyone else with the location of his hideout, as I do not know which of the soldiers here are trusted enough to know of it. But you must warn him and tell him to come immediately,” I pleaded.

“I’ll leave as soon as I change my clothes,” she promised.

I handed her an envelope with the letter I had written listing in detail the other task I needed her to complete for me. “This is a more pleasant task that I need you to take charge of, but it too is secret. Open it after you’ve spoken with Bart.”

She nodded, putting the envelope into her pocket.

“The birds I send to you will guide you there,” I assured her. “They will wait for you at the main gate.”

Mother smiled slightly. “It will be good to be in their company once again.” She took me in her arms and hugged me farewell. I prayed she could reach Bart in time. If Dagna was involved, then so were the Druzazzi. To be cautious, I had already sent out patrols of birds to our seas and shores to keep an eye out for an invasion force.

When I returned to my chambers, I immediately went to the book that was now always by my bedside and opened it to the chapter I knew I would need—“How to Kill a Witch”—and sat down in front of the hearth. As I re-read the words I already knew, I wished Bart were here. My mother would be on the road by now, and with any luck, Bart would return later tonight.

I breathed deeply. I would kill her. I would kill Cassandra and end her life of evil. Perhaps if I killed the witch tomorrow, I would stop the transformation of the princesses, stop Roseline from becoming a witch. I closed the book on my lap. I knew what to do—tomorrow I would hunt her down with the Bestiallas and end her.

In the following hours, I developed a plan and listed those things I wanted to ask Great Mother about tonight. Tomorrow, Bart would be by my side. I could feel my heartbeat hitch a bit faster as I let myself remember that in two days, we would marry. That thought filled me with joy and gave me strength, the strength I would need to face my enemy.

Cassandra

The sun was just beginning to set when she ran for the front door. I could feel the fear spilling from her and let out a snort of delight as I watched Zahra’s and Keary’s faces fill with surprise. She threw the door open and hurtled out into the courtyard.

I was on her in less than a second—my claws digging into her scalp as she screamed in agony. I grabbed her by that golden hair, almost snapping her neck, and turned her head to me to let my eyes bore into hers. “Going somewhere, Roseline?” I calmly asked.

Her eyes teemed with tears, her face the definition of abject fear and pain. Zahra and Keary were now at the door, taking it all in. “I don’t want it! I don’t want to be a witch! And I won’t help you kill my sister! I won’t help you kill Olive!” she shrieked and screamed until my fist found her mouth—the shattered teeth fell away and tinkled onto the stones that covered the ground, quickly followed by a feral moan of pain from Roseline.

“You. Don’t. Change. Your. Mind,” I uttered like a death sentence—which it was. My open hand struck at that beautiful face and my nails shredded it. I struck her again so that both cheeks were equally clawed into raw, bloody patches of gore. Her guttural groans of agony only made me want to destroy her all the more. I slammed my fist into her belly—she instantly doubled over in pain, the displaced air hissing out of her bloodied lips. I clenched my fist, bringing it up under her chin. To me, the sound of my fist breaking her bones was like a radiant song of joy. Roseline collapsed to the ground unconscious. I let out a gasp of satisfaction, and Dreambreaker leaped into my hand.

I summoned one of the enchanted wagons and levitated Roseline’s broken body into its bed. Francesca was immediately at my side.

“Take her to Lake Entadaxia,” I commanded. “We will join you right before midnight as planned.”

With that, Francesca jumped into the wagon with Roseline’s inert body, and flew off high into the air.

I turned back to Zahra and Keary. “Let us return to our work before we were so rudely interrupted.” I stalked back into the mansion with them close on my heels. Nothing would stop me from beginning my coven tonight. Not when my plan was going so well.

You know I will win, don’t you? If you don’t, you are as big of a fool as the Winnowwood.

Olive

The sun was well on its way to leaving for the night when I finally stood to light the candles in my room. Star-like smidgens of flames danced and glided through the air at my command. The kisses of flame found their marks, bathing the room in golden light. Fire. My weapon of choice. Or a nice big lightning bolt if we were outside. It was time to go to the Retreat and, hopefully, dream with Great Mother.

Suddenly, I felt a disruption. What was this? I calmed myself and let my spirit open. It started as a whisper that grew exponentially into a scream within a second. She attacked your sister!

The warning of the birds echoed in my mind as clearly as if they were perched on my shoulder screeching at me. I felt a roiling deep in the pit of my stomach. Why would she attack my sister when I knew Roseline had become a servant to the witch? I opened my window—nothing, but I knew they were coming. After a long few moments—there in the distance: a small flock of my companions. The birds of prey winged their way to me like speeding arrows. She attacked your sister! She may be dead!

I calmed my mind, extending my arms as they flew in and perched on me, then joined their minds with mine—Roseline running into the courtyard, the brutal beating she endured, the shocked faces of Zahra and the other woman, the commands: Take her to Lake Entadaxia. We will join you right before midnight as planned. The door of the manor slammed shut.

I opened my mind to my sisters’ entreaties: It’s a trap. Don’t go! some of the voices shouted, but there were others whispering too: She is your sister. She refused to attack you, met with: She betrayed you. I calmed myself and sat down in the chair in front of the fire, the eight birds perching on various furniture waiting for my orders. I closed my eyes and focused on the birds’ memories of what happened—the crunch of the witch’s fist pounding into Roseline’s chin was torture for me to endure. Roseline was too weak to endure it. Was the witch to kill her or keep her when she regained consciousness? Or was she the bait to catch me? But Zahra and the other woman had looked completely shocked as well, it couldn’t be staged. Roseline had tried to get away. My heart thudded in despair weighing the possibilities.

What could have happened to make Roseline change her mind? But when I heard her screams, “I won’t help you kill my sister! I won’t help you kill, Olive!” I knew I had to try. If she had changed her mind, I couldn’t allow her to be turned into a witch, not when she had stood for me. Not when she had endured such a brutal beating for me. Not when… she was my sister.

If the witch had spoken the truth, a big if, she wouldn’t arrive until midnight, and with the days so short now, that was well over six hours away. I would have plenty of time to fly to the Lake of the Witches, find my sister and save her. I paused… maybe this was an opportunity. Perhaps I should kill the witch right now? Yes! the voices howled from my soul. Kill her! I had already developed a plan for tomorrow. Could I use the plan today? Yes! Do it! Kill her!

Bart was not here, nor my mother, nor Bear or Side Stripe. We are here! My sisters shouted. I took a gulp of air, focused on my memories and drew in my arsenal, sending out my call to the Bestiallas. And to Bear. Of course, to Bear. I could still feel his thoughts, though they were like a whisper. I roared back to him as loudly as I could, I am going to Lake Entadaxia. Find Bart. He has been warned and is coming from the Cave.

Then I rose to meet my destiny.

I soared on wings of power and fury, and worry, so much worry, as I raced toward the Witch’s Lake—the lake of curses and darkness, of myths and legends, and of death. The stories always spoke of death. I prayed to be lucky. Prayed that the witch was telling the truth, that she would not be there until midnight. I would be long gone by then, hopefully, with my sister—alive. It was a fool’s gamble. I knew that. I knew the odds were far better that this was a trap. And if that was my fate, then I would face her and kill Cassandra Dragon Slayer here and now. I would have preferred to wait for support, but Roseline couldn’t wait. I would do this for her and pray she was worth the effort.

It would be different than when I had killed the Druzazzi; they were actively invading my country, killing my people. It had not been a conscious decision in many ways—I had to kill them, and I did, to save my people. But this was different. It was just between the two of us; one of us would live and one of us would die. With all that I learned about my powers from the book, with my sisters’ advice, with the help of Ursula’s words, and Great Mother’s blessing, I knew I had the power to do this.

But I was still afraid. I could feel it in my bones, but I couldn’t let her win. Couldn’t let her unleash her plans, for I knew what they would bring with every breath I took. Death. The death of the lands I knew, the death of lands I didn’t know but knew were out there. She would destroy everything that was good and decent in this world and that could not be allowed to happen.

We climbed higher to top the peaks that surrounded the Badlands, revealing the mirrored surface of the lake below. Even from this height, the water felt sinister, as if it smugly held the secrets to the world’s wickedness. We circled, and circled again, slowly drifting lower as the air passed over our wings, buffeting them with each beat of wing. There was nothing. All was in darkness, or as dark as the light of the full moon allowed.

I breathed slowly, calming myself, debating what to do as we floated closer to the ground. My eagle eyes flashed across the landscape below, rapidly searching until I spotted something—there, on the eastern shore of the lake, in the rock of the cliffs that surrounded it, the slightest glimmer of light seemed to emanate from the bottom of the cliff.

Down we glided, closer and closer, as we drew near the cliff, looking for anyone, anything, out of the ordinary. Finally, we alighted in the trees by the lake with a good view of the mysterious, faint light that escaped from the cliffside, about a hundred yards away.

I took in the area—a large fire pit lay close to the shoreline with burnt logs from a recent fire. Someone had been here preparing. For what? I had a feeling that if I knew that, I might not have the nerve to stay. Maybe this cliffside structure was simply where she kept her supplies, as I did at the glen. From the looks of it, it could go quite deep into that rock. Perhaps it was a cave like Bart’s with extensive rooms and corridors? My mind raced with the possibilities and what the dangers could be. Looking around the area, I still felt uneasy, as if something unnatural was present, but I saw nothing to give me true pause, except for the fact that this was the deadly Lake of the Witches.

I listened to hear a voice from my sisters, but they were silent. None had ventured to this cursed destination. They knew of my plan. I guess it was up to me to now begin it. I looked to my fellow travelling companions. If you see anything, give me a warning, but escape. I need you to find Bart and Bear, and call the Bestiallas and lead them here. Glancing about, I could detect no life, no other creatures, not so much as a squirrel or a mouse. I fluttered down to the ground, and transformed into a cat—fast, agile and stealthy. Then I ran to that glimmer of light.

Sidling up close to the cliffside, I explored the light, now about eight feet away from me. The shaft of light couldn’t be wider than half an inch as it escaped into the night. With my cat eyes, I could now clearly make out the details of a door-sized cut-out on the lower right face of the cliffside from where the light seeped. A slight breeze from within that structure moved the edge of light infinitesimally. My ears pricked and I slithered back into the darkness into a slight niche in the cliff wall. The hair on my back vibrated with trepidation. It was an entrance, the air emitted from that opening was close and foul. And then I heard it. A moan. A moan of pain and agony, that halted with a guttural gasp, as if the energy of the moan was too much for her soul to bear. A tiny whimper followed it. Roseline.

I breathed in fully and detected her scent, barely marking the air over the foulness of the place, but it was her. I edged closer to the source of light, then finally pawed at it. A soft, leather-like material met my pad, heavy enough that few winds would move it, but not substantial enough to keep me from entering. It must be enchanted to be so perfectly matched to the cliff, something the witch was certainly capable of creating. I paused again, then drew up my courage and poked my nose through the hole until I could get a look inside.

A large narrow room met my eyes, about thirty feet long by fifteen feet wide. At the end of it, a fireplace was lit, the light casting shadows against the walls creating the light that I had spied. And in front of that fire, a small shape lay huddled on the floor.

My eyes quickly examined the walls looking for more hidden chambers, entrances, hiding places, but I could see nothing. Completely empty, except for Roseline.

I pulled back, padding back to the niche and debated what to do. It was definitely Roseline. Had she been left here to die as punishment, or to lure me in? But there was fire. I could use the fire if I needed to. I could form a ball in less than a second and hurl it at the witch if she showed her wicked face. I could do this. After I assessed if she could travel, I could turn into a horse and carry Roseline back to the castle. If only she could hang on.

On silent cat paws, I approached the entrance, pushed back the material, and slinked into the room. I moved quickly, sniffing the air; the scent of Roseline growing stronger and stronger, as did the scent of blood. In seconds, I was standing in front of the huddled figure on the frigid stone floor—blood-streaked gashes wrecked her face, her eyes were closed, her mouth dripped blood, and her blond hair was matted with it. She looked close to death, and certainly not able to ride. I reached my paw out and softly touched her face. Her eyes opened. She tried to mouth my name through her broken lips, but it was too painful for her to form the word.

I lifted my arms over my head and changed back into myself, then knelt back down. I had foolishly forgotten to wear a cape—how stupid of me. It was so cold, and Roseline’s skin was like ice and I had nothing to cover her with. “Can you move?”

A moan sounded from that ruined mouth as she shifted her body and placed a hand under her hip in a feeble attempt to rise. I put my hands under her arms and tried to lift her as she struggled to her feet, but she collapsed, and I couldn’t keep her upright. Roseline whimpered with even the slightest movement, her hand bracing her ribs as shiny, red bubbles of blood dripped from her mouth. Her ribs were broken. Perhaps if I changed into a bear, she could hang on—

Suddenly, I felt a shudder in my spirit, a gut-wrenching spasm as the birds shrieked their warning. I could feel the orb, pulsing with anxiety, disappear into my skin. I turned to the doorway, and there she stood—the woman from the ball, whom I now knew was Cassandra Dragon Slayer.

I took a deep calming breath; I had the fire, and I was ready. She appeared unarmed as she moved slowly towards me, then paused. Her eyes were black as coals exuding an animosity I had not experienced in my lifetime.

“Hello, Olive,” she whispered. “How good of you to come.”

This was it. I was ready, I turned to the fire willing it to come to me and… nothing. I focused my thoughts, focused on my words, and stretched my hand out to the flames. And… nothing.

“You are as stupid as I thought you would be, Princess,” she sneered. “Didn’t you notice how cold the floor was, how cold your sister was in front of a fire?” she brayed. “It is Witch Fire and it doesn’t answer to you. How easy it was to lure you here.”

The conceit in her voice rocked my confidence. The floor was ice cold, as was Roseline. I glanced at that fire and finally saw it wasn’t the color of true fire, too much blue and silver in the flames and no heat emanated from it. Why hadn’t I realized it wasn’t a true fire? She was now within ten feet of me and I could feel the evil that she brought.

I desperately looked around for wood, for anything, to start a fire, but there was nothing. She had ensured there would be nothing for me to use. I took a deep calming breath; her plan was going well, but I had another plan and my sisters knew it. I could hear their voices speaking up, Now. Do it now! I raised my arm and unleashed my power—water flew from my body, enshrining hers in ice. Her legs stopped, but her left hand still moved, so I forced more water out of my body to thicken the ice coating hers. Finally, stillness.

I was so weak, I collapsed to my knees, exhausted. “Roseline,” I whispered, “you must use all of your strength and stand. We must leave now if we are to escape.”

Roseline’s eyes flashed to mine, but there was no panic there. No fear. A choking sob of laughter escaped those broken lips.

What had happened? I could barely move as I crawled towards her. Then I heard it—the crackling and snapping of ice. I turned my head back to the witch, who now stood before me, smiling in triumph.

“Did you learn that from that little book, Legends of the Witches and the Winnowwood of the Borealis Kingdoms?” she snickered, watching the confusion that crossed my face. “Didn’t you ever wonder who gave you that book, you arrogant little fool?” She grinned at me with a look of utter viciousness, it froze the blood in my veins when she continued, “I gave you that book.”

My heart nearly broke with her words. “But why? Why would you give me a book that showed me how to use my powers, told me how to kill a witch?” I turned fully towards her, knowing I had no power left to summon. Oh, the look in her eyes as I took her in—that look made me tremble in fear as I gaped at her, barely able to lift my head.

“I didn’t tell you how to kill a witch, you imbecile. I told you how to commit suicide.” She looked down upon me, sneering in delight. “And it has worked perfectly, for you are right, I wanted you to be as powerful as possible.”

“But why?” I choked out.

Her eyes bored into mine. “Because I am going to steal that power on the Solstice. And when I do, you will die. But before I allow you to die, I will torment you with endless pain, and I will feed on it like ambrosia.”

My sisters’ voices screamed in my head, Change! Fly! Escape! With all the strength I had left, I moved to raise my arms, but just as I did, I felt a motion behind me. Roseline.

A net fell over me—a net of dulling and numbing. My body collapsed, and I fell onto my side. There was now silence in my brain, my sisters’ voices had been muzzled. In an instant, the witch was over me, pulling the net tightly about me, placing locks to secure it so forcefully I could not move even if my limbs had worked. “This will prevent you from finishing the job you started, as I need you alive,” she uttered with fervor.

The witch stared over my shoulder, then turned me to face my sister. A laugh of such horror came out of those ruined lips. “I told you how stupid she was.” Roseline looked hard upon me as she said, “I knew you’d come for me,” the words coming thick and slow from her mangled mouth.

“You were right, my darling girl,” crooned the witch. “You said she was too arrogant to be wary and she’s so stupid she almost stepped on me outside. She had no idea I was right next to her.”

Roseline’s laughter echoed off the cold cave walls.

I knew I had felt something evil but had no idea how she had hidden from me. “But she beat you. I saw it,” I uttered forlornly.

Cassandra looked down at me. “That was just a bit of fun we played out for you. Did you not think I would see your spies snooping about in the trees?” She ran her hand gently through Roseline’s hair. “And Roseline was the perfect actress. Simply perfect.” She placed her wand over Roseline’s heart, as Roseline stared at her with a look that declared she was in the presence of her savior.

Then Cassandra spoke the words that were a knife through my heart: “Anhelo Eximo Sano Salus Sanu.” She was using the same words I used when I healed animals! I watched as curls of darkness oozed from Cassandra, covering her body in wisps of shadow. I was stunned. Just as I glowed with light when I healed animals, her body consumed the darkness. The longer she chanted, the more the darkness took her, and took Roseline. It was disturbing to watch but as I reflected on it, why shouldn’t our powers be opposite sides of the same coin?

Before my eyes, as if one drawing was erased and another formed, my sister was healed before my eyes and appeared perfect once again. Cassandra looked down at me smiling, delight filled her face as she turned to Roseline and said, “Keep an eye on her. I need to finish the preparations.” With that, she turned and left me alone with my betrayer—my sister.

As my eyes focused on her, she met my gaze in turn, then slowly smiled. “Come now, sister, can you really be all that surprised?” She stood, turned to a satchel that had been hidden by her skirts, and removed a canteen and drank deeply, then put it back in the satchel.

How I longed for a drink of water, for a drink of anything. My mouth was drier than sand and I was the one who had made it so. I had almost killed myself! I wanted to laugh morosely at the irony of it, no, the arrogance of my actions. My sisters had tried to warn me, had said they had never heard of this charm, but I had ignored their concerns. Now, I could no longer hear their voices at all; the magic that was contained in this netting must be exceedingly strong.

I stared at my sister by blood, devastated by her actions. I had tried to save her—save this creature that now stood in front of me, but in all truth, I was not surprised. Another mistake on my part. I had seen this new creature inhabiting her body, and I was the one who had chosen to ignore it. To pretend it was not real. It would be my utter downfall, the downfall of everything good, because I was too stupid to recognize true evil when it showed itself to me. I felt sick to my stomach. I could barely breathe, yet I still wanted to know the truth behind all of this. “How could you help her kill me, Roseline? You are my sister, our blood binds us forever.”

She met my eyes with the same look that I had had the occasion to experience before—that cold monster who now dwelt in her skin. “Actually, forever will end quite shortly, sister, and we will no longer share the same blood, but it is the blood that I still carry in my veins that has cursed me into this darkness.” She spoke the words softly, almost with a hint of regret, or was she trying to manipulate me again? “Perhaps you will not consider me as soulless as you now believe when you know the truth.”

It was difficult, but I could still find the energy to speak. “Then tell me of this truth, sister, fore I cannot imagine any reason you would have to kill me.”

She drew close to me, staring into my eyes. How those green eyes had betrayed me—my own eyes. “I am cursed,” she uttered, then drew away from me and stood in front of the fire, her eyes focused on the Witch Flames. After a moment, she continued in that same strange, disembodied voice, “You see, I didn’t know that Ursula had put a curse on the Blade of the Winnowwood.” I could see her contemplating her words, as if there was still the smallest hint of regret in her actions. “Ursula cursed the blade so that if a Winnowwood injured animals to intentionally make herself uglier before using the blade to change, on the first full lunar eclipse after her transformation, she would have her beauty removed and return to the ugly state she had intentionally inflicted upon herself with no powers.”

I thought about her words and what they meant. “The seers say there will be a full lunar eclipse tonight. A true Blood Moon.” I stared at her, she met my gaze and nodded slightly.

“Yes, tonight I will be changed back into what I was the night I chose the conversion. And as it happens, I will suffer as I have never suffered.” She let out a long sigh, then those vicious eyes met mine again, her voice now quick and sharp as a razor. “How could I not save the most important thing I possess given the chance?” She drew close to me, her voice softening. “I had not made my decision, until my witch informed me of that key fact, so don’t think me as cruel and heartless as you imagine. But once I knew it was basically the choice between my life or yours…” she gazed at me full faced “… you know what decision I would make.”

“She could be lying to you, Roseline,” I whispered, unable to keep the desperation from my voice.

A wry smile appeared on her face. “Oh, no, sister. Do you not remember some months ago there was a partial eclipse of the moon, just a teeny one?” She winked at me. “I thought I would die that night and I had no idea why.” She paused, then continued, “No, my witch speaks truth.” She walked back to the fire and turned away from me. “I’m lucky she has allowed me to join her coven, or I would be cursed to oblivion. But she made me pay dearly for the honor.” Her voice was devoid of any kindness, of any softness that once possessed it.

I struggled to make sense of it all. Yes, I could see Ursula putting a curse on the Blade of the Winnowwood. She would have considered it anathema to harm animals to become beautiful. Why hadn’t she told me? If I had known that, I would have known the enormity of the threat to Roseline and how vulnerable she was. How vulnerable that made me. I could feel my eyes wanting to cry, but there were no tears to be had, not when I was so dangerously dehydrated. I had to choose my words carefully if there was even the slightest possibility of reaching Roseline.

“Sister, if you help Cassandra take my powers, she will unleash such evil upon the world. It will lead to the destruction of countless people,” I murmured softly.

A slight smile appeared on her lips. “I know.”

“But don’t you see how wrong that would be?”

Her face was immoveable, cold and unfeeling.

“Roseline, I promise to take care of you, to watch over you, to help you find happiness in whatever body you possess, but do not do this. Not when so many will die,” I pleaded.

Roseline looked at me as if I had turned into a shrieking monkey and let out a chortle of amusement. “And why should I suffer for strangers?”

“They have done nothing to bring this evil upon them,” I stated as forcefully as I could.

“Oh, really, sister? They have done nothing?” She paused and I could see the rage building in her soul. “They have done everything!” she hissed at me in return.

I did not reply. I knew she wasn’t finished, and I watched as her anger built, then exploded.

“While you escaped to your forests and your animals, I watched, Olive. I watched it all. The lies and corruption of the court, of courtiers manipulating Father for their own gain, of the disgusting lust of men gazing upon our mother, of the looks of cruelty and nastiness when they looked at you, at me! They will follow tyranny if it serves their own wants and needs. Men are whores to greed and desire! Where is the goodness in that?” She paused for a moment, then stared at me seething with fury. “And we are nothing but chattel to these evil men who rule this world. I choose to no longer be used by them!”

I could hear Zahra in her words, but there was also truth in them, though twisted to fit her position. “Then help me change the world, Roseline, but do not curse them with unleashing Cassandra upon them.”

“You would not change it, Olive. All I see in your actions is a future where you would be under their boot. You would make the weather perfect for them so they would gain more riches from plentiful crops. You would keep the lands safe from invaders, so they would continue to use women like game pieces on a board. You would let Bart rule your kingdom and never think twice about it as men plot for their futures at the cost of women.” She looked back at me with death in her eyes. “No, sister, I think I do more to save the world right now than you could ever imagine.”

“No. It won’t be like that. I’ll change it, Roseline, I swear I will. We can change it together!” I pleaded.

Her only response was to let out a derisive snicker of disgust. “Liar.”

I stared back at her, more confused than ever. Was I lying? Would I change this country? If this was what Cassandra was proposing to Zahra and Roseline, it was no wonder that Zahra had eagerly selected this path. And with the curse on Roseline, of course this is what she would choose. I could not find words of dissent, no words that would change her mind.

“Olive, I told you what people were like. They only see appearances, the shell over your skin.” She ran her hands slowly down her body as she grinned at me. “You say I sentence this world to die, but what are they to me? They are the same men who would jeer and shriek at my appearance once the moon destroys me tonight. Instead, I choose to be reborn, even more powerful than Ursula’s curse, as her curse will add to my powers as a witch. I’ll be more beautiful than even you, sister, and that brings me such joy.”

She laughed in delight. “No, I will not think of those selfish, worthless creatures that you now defend because I do not defend this world—this world of men and power. No, we will take that power! It is evil that will save this world by destroying it. It is evil that men seek, and we will give it to them as they have only dreamed!” She stomped her foot in emphasis.

Somehow, I knew what had happened. What had brought about this dramatic change, and felt it was still Cassandra’s doing. “My, but how your words have changed, sister, when once you only spoke of marriage and children and true love,” I softly murmured. “Did Prince Dagna break your heart so thoroughly that he broke you apart as well?”

Roseline turned her ice-cold emerald eyes on me. “My eyes have been opened and I will now judge men as they have judged me. They are not worth one moment of my unhappiness, not when I can rule over them with my beauty and my magic.” An ugly sneer came over her face. “But then, I’ll have little use for magic, won’t I? After a lifetime of watching the fools become dumbstruck in the presence of Mother, I know I won’t need it. I’ll simply disarm them with a smile.”

Turning on her heel, she strolled back to the satchel, took out the canteen of water and lifted it to her lips as she watched me. She must have seen the desperation in my eyes. She moved close to me, eying the entrance as she knelt next to me. “Here, before she comes back.” She put the canteen up to my lips, and I gulped down the water so quickly, I didn’t notice her eyes until I had drained it. The smug, self-satisfied look on her face said it all as I felt the darkness come to take me.

“By the way, she’s going to kill Bart for Zahra as well.” She laughed horrifically. “Goodbye, Sister. For when we speak again, we will no longer share the same blood and we will no longer be sisters.” The words were already too hard for me to hear as I surrendered to the darkness.

Cassandra

I strolled out of the cavern into the light of the full moon overcome with utter ecstasy. I had the Winnowwood who would turn me into the most powerful witch in history. I was about to convert the three princesses into the first three witches of my coven. I had already sent Dagna ahead to his father in one of my magical wagons to ensure I would be released from my oath. And the solstice was almost here… I stopped and took a deep breath to control myself. Praise the Dark Sister for her brilliant plan, for the idea of the book, and every step to bring the Winnowwood here. And there would be an additional blessing from the Dark Sister tonight, I could feel it. I threw my arms over my head and spun slowly under the moon, thanking the Dark Sister for her blessings from the depth of my black soul.

Time to begin. I strode to the bag I had left next to the fire pit and pulled out one of my prized possessions—the Ultimus Procresco. Set in a deceptively simple silver setting, that belied its true power, with a plain silver chain attached. The glittering crystal at its center filled the palm of my hand, clear as ice, cut and faceted like the most precious of diamonds, yet it was far more valuable than any mere jewel, for it had the ability to magnify the transfer of magic. It had a twin, but tonight, I would need only one. I had never had the opportunity to use it, but I would place this on Roseline to transfer the power of the curse back into her as she was remade and test its true power for myself. She would be my test subject and if something went wrong, I smiled to myself, better her than me.

My Phoenix Anniversary alone would have magnified my powers, but with the Procresco in the rays of the solstice, my powers would increase dramatically. Now that I would be transferring the power of the Winnowwood to me as well, the gain would be exponential, hence why I would need its twin—one for the Winnowwood to wear, and one for me. I would be more powerful than Olive was, more powerful than I was… it boggled my mind and made my black soul ache at the thought of it. I would be invincible. Period.

The Procresco was a priceless relic, yet I had no idea where the crystals had been mined, or who had originally discovered its innate power. When the sorcerer finally gave them to me, he could no longer speak. He had used the Procresco to increase his own powers and his magical wards of protection had prevented me from Captivating him. My magic had shattered his mind instead of allowing me to take it over. I learned from that mistake. Sorcerers were a bane to my existence, and I had quite a few them that I needed to take vengeance on to even that score, starting with the sorcerer who had kept me imprisoned for a hundred years. I’m sure I would find out all I needed to know as I tortured each of them into the cruelest of hells.

A movement above me caught my eye as the wagon carrying Francesca with Keary and Zahra came into view, then landed on the shoreline. Zahra’s eyes were wide with confusion.

“My witch, there are thousands of birds flying over this land, but all stop at the same distance and none enter,” Keary reported calmly.

“Yes, I’ve spelled this place, as I have around the Cavern of the Witches, creating a dome of protection. No animals are allowed to exist here, creating no spies for Winnowwood ears. If you were to look to the borders on land, you would find the same for the animals—none can enter unless I allow them in. But they all wait. They know their Queen is here.”

Keary and Zahra jumped out of the wagon, Keary holding a bow in her right hand and a large quiver of arrows on her back. She smiled at me. “So, that is how we will hunt.”

I nodded, pleased with her comment. She was quick and clever. I had decided to honor her with becoming my first witch. Since she would be my Diabolus Custos, it was only appropriate. I gave a signal to Francesca, who took off in her wagon. She had one last important errand to complete this night, and if she was efficient, she would return in two hours. All would be prepared to perfection by then.

Roseline strolled out of the cavern, smiling in satisfaction. “She drank all of your potion, my witch, and now sleeps.”

“Glad to see you’ve regained your appearance, Roseline,” said Zahra, a bemused lilt to her tone. “When I last saw you, I feared for your pain.”

Roseline shot a look of steel at her in return. “The pain was nothing to me to carry out my witch’s plan.”

I was beginning to think that Roseline might surprise me with her ruthlessness when she converted, her heartlessness to her sister was just as a witch should be, but then, that change had really been accelerated by Dagna’s actions. I felt like a marionettis, as I had when I was with all my sisters hundreds of years ago, holding all the strings and manipulating them with my words, my clever actions. How I looked forward to building my coven again.

“What is that you hold, my witch?” asked Zahra cautiously.

I allowed the question and held the crystal up to the moonlight so they could appreciate its beauty. “It is a priceless relic that magnifies the transfer of magic in special circumstances. Tonight, I will use it on Roseline to magnify the power of the curse she is under.”

“Is it a device of witch power?” asked Roseline.

“No. I obtained this from a sorcerer from the Forbidden Continent. He was a clever man, but not nearly as clever as he believed.” I gave them a terrifying grin that stopped further questions. “Shall we begin?”

It is time. Time for you to see what you must sacrifice if you want to join my coven. Are you ready? I hope you’re nervous. You should be.

Olive

Darkness surrounds me, vibrating, shifting, ruffling in deep shadows. I know they see me; I can feel their angry stares. “It is I, Princess Olive,” I say. Those words incite them. “Die! Die! Die!” they shriek as they fly at me—three huge ravens as dark as the night with their razor-sharp claws outstretched, hurtling towards my face. I can’t move my arms to fight them, their talons stretch out to attack.

And then, a light. A light that explodes and clears the air of the darkness, of the ravens, of everything.

When my eyes finally focus in the shimmering light, I am sitting on the throne of the Guides, which comes to life, its white wood branches wrapping protectively around me and I am again engulfed in its goodness and light and a feeling of utter safety. I hear the voice of Great Mother as the light surrounds me. “Do not give up, Queen of the Winnowwood. You must find a way to stop her.”

“I can’t,” I sob. “You must stop her. You are the only one who can. I’ve proven I’m a stupid little girl.”

“Why? Because you wanted to help your sister? To believe that she was worth your sacrifice? It is not so foolish to want to believe in the good instead of the bad in people.”

“But now I will die. Bart will die! My mother will die.” I let out a sob that breaks my heart because I will never have the life I had glimpsed, the imagined life that filled me with such joy. “And all hope to stop the witch will die with me.”

“You must still try, Olive. Focus on your strength, on good, on what is right. Think of all you know and look for an answer, a way out. Do not give in to despair.”

“How can I not? What can I fight her with? She has completely outsmarted me, and I am now powerless.”

“If you will not fight for what is right, what will you fight for? If you ignore evil and darkness because you are afraid, because you have given up—what are you? Nothing but a witch in training.”

Tears flow down my face. “I am too weak, too stupid to do this.”

Suddenly, the arms of the throne fill me with warmth, as if it is sending me courage to hold on to. “You are not powerless. Look inward. Focus on your power, whatever power you have left, even if it as small as a mustard seed. Focus on that seed. Focus on that seed and let it grow. Do not lose hope.”

“I don’t see how I can beat her,” I utter miserably.

“Olive, good must win over evil. To the last breath, Olive. To the last breath. Do not give up! Do not give in to the darkness. Be calm. Find your strength!”

Again, the light fills me, and I feel strengthened. I focus on the light, on all it brings to me. My eyes close, and I consider all she has told me, but can think of nothing that will help. A hard slap against my right ear wakes me from my dream.

I opened my eyes to find Cassandra’s smug face staring back at me, so close I could smell her putrid breath—like rotting blood. “I want you to see this, Princess. See what you have unleashed upon the world.” With one tap of her wand, I was levitated into the air. I could tell she did not control me, only the netting which lifted me and pushed me through the air to the entrance.

The netting. I had never seen the likes of it; mercury given solid form; it almost seemed to be alive as it trilled and pulsated in the dim light—definitely witch-made.

Cassandra glowered at me with that look that froze my heart. I considered saying something, but my tongue felt thick and slow and probably would not cooperate anyway. Besides, what could I say? Nothing that would change my imprisonment, and I could not be sure my voice wouldn’t crack in fear—then she’d know how terrified I was. No, I would stay silent and not offer her anything to use against me.

As we exited the cavern, I spotted Zahra standing next to my sister and the woman who had arrived on the great beast of a horse at the estate. Each was clothed in a simple robe of black which was split down the front, not completely concealing their naked bodies beneath. I wanted to hiss and scream at Zahra as I knew she’d bargained for Bart’s death to bring herself here. The smug tilt of her lips as she gazed at me said it all. My sister’s face looked at me as if I were a stranger; there would be no help from her. The last one only eyed me as a hunter eyes its prey. I wouldn’t speak to any of them, I would not beg or debase myself in front of them. I was Olive, Queen of the Winnowwood, and I needed to focus all my energy to find anything that could help me.

Cassandra continued to push me along in front of her with her wand tapping out my path, grinning triumphantly at her converts. “All is ready at last!” She tapped her wand again and the net was hung onto a strong branch of an immense oak tree that had a fine view of the fire pit and the lake.

Somehow, I knew I was about to see great evil, and it terrified me. I glanced at the branch that held me, realizing I could move my neck. I had no control over my arms or legs, but I could still rotate my neck. Luckily, the witch had been looking at her soon-to-be disciples and missed that; I would not move a muscle again until she was distracted.

She glanced up at me. “Comfortable?” A malicious smile appeared on her wicked lips. “Prepare to watch the ruining of this world—all because you were too stupid to see my trap!” She grinned at me again with the joyous mania of one about to achieve their ultimate dream; it felt like a knife in my heart. She turned and strode back to the three.

I focused on every detail, any detail that might help me. So many changes had been made to the clearing since I had entered the cave. Now, three immense piles of wood stacked in an odd arrangement stood in an enlarged fire pit, next to three silver cauldrons. There was a raised platform of silver, sized for an adult human body. But most disquieting was what was next to it—a similar raised platform of silver, but this one was sized for a child.

My heart froze in terror. This had to be the ceremony that turned a woman into a witch, and she wanted me to watch the horror, to let me know what she planned to unleash on the world, and for me to know that it was all my fault. I gritted my teeth and hardened my spirit for what was about to occur; I would not let it overwhelm me.

I could feel the intrinsic power of the net against my skin, knowing it would never release me while it answered to her. I closed my eyes and focused, I needed to be strong, to think. She was so sure I would die, never able to use the information of this ceremony in the future against her. I would have hope, I would watch, and I would remember it all.

The light of the full moon shone down on us. I turned my face upward into its rays. Did I have any power left? Could I do anything? I focused—I could feel the tree quiver slightly in response. Only the tiniest bit, barely detectable, but it was there. Then, so slowly, I could scarcely detect the movement, a long slim branch of the tree began to make its way into the net.

Cassandra

I stepped into Lake Entadaxia, knowing of the things that lived in its dark waters, of the artifacts still hidden in its depths, and the bones of the fools who had come to this lake uninvited. Even some who were invited. Knee-deep in the water, I sliced my left hand with the Blade of the Witches. As my black blood spilled into the water, I began my chant, “Dark Sister, I call for your assistance, Dark Sister, I call for your Beast! Unleash the Kerestenebrae, the darkness, the deathly spirit of woman, your power given form. Let her start these fires this night, let her give her power to this rite. Start this coven with your blessing, make our coven never-ending. Dark Sister, bless this night, Dark Sister, bring us your beast and bless this rite!”

I turned and strode out of the water up to the firepit, the three pyres of wood in front of us only awaiting ignition. My hand had already stopped bleeding when I raised it to the three. “Step back. Follow my moves.” My black blood throbbed in anticipation, then I saw it—out in the middle of the glass smooth water—a ripple. “Do not speak. Only I will address the Beast.”

I turned my back to the princesses and raised my wand as there was no guarantee that the Beast would obey me. The ripples on the water grew larger as it drew closer to the shore. Closer. The ripples increased in strength. Then… nothing. The water returned to its glass-like facade. My breath hitched slightly, was it refusing? Had Dark Sister stopped it? I took a deep breath, not wanting to show any weakness in front of them. Then the water exploded.

The Beast bolted out of its depths, black wings of death carrying her quickly to the shoreline, and roared her answer as she approached on powerful, muscled legs with clawed feet of horror. I would show no weakness, no matter how she thrilled me with her power, her menace, as she inspected me in turn.

She was utterly beautiful, standing over twenty-feet tall, wrapped in impervious scales of deep ebony that gleamed wickedly in the moonlight. Her wings were strong and flexible and tipped with talons to rip and claw. She possessed gills as well as lungs, and a body built for speed whether in the air or in the depths of the seas.

I gazed into her eyes, then let a smidge of a smile appear on my lips as I bowed before her, holding my position, the princesses mimicking my action. My wand was now wrapped around my wrist; there was no enemy here. I stood, and she contemplated me in turn—what a vicious beast of horror she was; perhaps she was thinking the same of me—two kindred spirits acknowledging each other’s familiarity. The Beast’s glistening five-inch fangs formed into a smile that would strike fear into any heart, but as I did not have one, I simply smiled in turn.

Fire shot out of the Beast’s maw. Roseline and Zahra let out small shrieks, unable to control their surprise. The living flames were of purple, silver, turquoise and blue—like Witch Fire, but so much more intense. What had been in the fireplace in the cave was a match tip to the inferno the Beast unleashed. The three piles of wood were now rainbow pyres of living death and the Beast’s flames would last for hours. Those magical flames were the final ingredient I needed to construct the most powerful of witches. Oh, yes, Dark Sister was blessing me and my Coven.

I again bowed to the Beast as I stared into the depths of her black eyes, my eyes. She let out a friendly howl of triumph, then bowed to me in return. With that, she pushed off with her mighty legs, and soared into the air. After a few moments, I could hear the terror of the birds as she tore at them, ravaging them, but after a minute or two of carnage she dove back into the lake and disappeared. In the future, I would be able to call her again. With that bow, she had given me permission. She would be the Beast I would ride into battle when I began my conquest of the world.

I turned to my soon-to-be witches. “And now, we begin,” I said, staring at each of them. “What is the animal you have selected to form your bone?”

“The snake,” Zahra replied, a smug look on her face. “Charming and dangerous and infused with sexual energy.”

I regarded her answer and thought she had chosen well, it would complement her own powers once she was changed. I turned to Keary. “And you, my hunter?”

“The ultimate hunter—the eagle,” she said.

I nodded in agreement, then looked at Roseline.

“The fox—beautiful, intelligent, cunning and sly,” she stated, giving me a slight smile. I nodded in agreement.

I turned to Keary. “Only wound and disable. Each of you must make the fatal blow to end it.”

We didn’t have long to wait; I selected the animals I would allow through my barrier with a flick of my wand. In seconds, a magnificent eagle soared down at us screaming its wrath with talons extended. An arrow sliced through its left wing, making it easy for Keary to catch it and place in a sack. An immense stealthy snake slithered into the clearing, but not stealthy enough to avoid the arrow that pinned it firmly to the ground.

Then I smiled as a fox dashed toward the tree that held the Winnowwood; a fox with an odd stripe on its forehead, barking and yipping. I saw Roseline look up to her sister with an evil smile of triumph. Keary’s arrow found its mark into its rear haunch, rendering him unable to walk. His fangs snapped at empty air as she enclosed a net around it. The fox that had been the pet of the Winnowwood. I let out a chuckle of triumph as I looked up at her. “This is only the beginning of your pain, Princess.”

With perfect timing, Francesca appeared in her wagon accompanied by four children. My mouth watered in anticipation. “It is time for you to become witches!”

Are you ready? I can feel your desire to be with us. It is time for you to decide. I will ensure you don’t regret it.

Olive

The tree had blessed me with the gift of water. As Cassandra focused on the monster from the lake, the tree branch had moved stealthily, mainly hidden in my hair, until just the tip moved into my mouth and quenched my thirst. I felt so much stronger, almost like myself again—except for the net keeping my limbs immobile. Yes, except for that little fact. But I would use all at my disposal. To the last breath.

The screams had melted my soul. To watch this destruction, this assault against innocence, against decency, against all that I held dear, flayed my soul like a brutal beating from a cat-o’-nine-tails. But still, I watched. I would not turn away as Zahra finished eating the heart of the child, licking her fingers with relish, as Cassandra placed the silver crescent into her chest, then placed her left hand across the hole and closed it once more.

Zahra then knelt before Cassandra, as the one who was named Keary had done before her. I could hear Cassandra’s words, the same words she had spoken before. “The Dark Sister has blessed you and made you a witch. Do you swear to obey me, to follow me, to do all I ask of you, Princess Zahra?”

“To my death, my witch, I swear allegiance to you for as long as I walk this earth and the darkness beyond it.”

“Hold out your wand and repeat these words after me: Ut imperium autem quod tenebris soror benedicite ego apud magna imperium.”

Still on her knees, Zahra did as she was told. As she repeated the words, her wand came to life. A glowing darkness seemed to fill it with power. Zahra’s face glowed as well—a witch had been born in front of me.

Two were now transformed and only Roseline remained. I glanced up at the moon and knew the eclipse would soon begin. I had thought Bart would be here by now but, in truth, I thanked Great Mother that he wasn’t. He would be walking into a death trap since the animals were kept out, he would be alone, and he would be controlled by Cassandra with one flick of that wand. Tears seeped from my eyes; I prayed he was safe, and blinked the tears away.

I had tried to warn the Bestiallas: Stay away, Bear. Stay away, Side Stripe. There is nothing but death for you here. Tell everyone not to enter this place of suffering. I had heard no response from them. And then Side Stripe had broken from the forest and run directly for me.

“I’ll save you, Princess! I will save you!” He had shouted right before the arrow brought him down. I watched as he fought, as he tried to bite them, until he was secured in the net. And now he would die.

The witch turned her stare to Roseline. “Shall we begin?”

That wicked smile I had seen previously appeared on her face. She bowed to her savior. “Yes, my witch,” she said in a voice of crooning adoration.

I watched as Roseline took her cauldron to the lake, filled it with the cursed water and returned. Cassandra pulled the net holding Side Stripe into the air. I called to him through my mind, Be brave, my dear one. Be brave. I am here. Your spirit will reside in me.

His eyes met mine. I love you.

Then Roseline sliced his neck with a sharp blade, pouring his blood into her pot of evil. She did it without a moment’s hesitation.

But she would not win this small battle. With the strength of the water, I was able to call Side Stripe’s spirit to me, as I had for the eagle and the snake. I would not allow the power of their spirits to be placed into those immoral pots. May their bones fly like a drunken elephant.

I soothed Side Stripe’s spirit, calling him to me, caressing him with my soul, calming his terror until he joined his soul with mine where I would hold it safe. Hello, my dear one. Now, you shall be part of me, and you will still be my protector.

How can I do that, Princess?

I could feel his sadness. You are still you, my dear friend. You have always been clever and wise. You will use my eyes as your eyes, my ears as your ears, but your heart is still yours. I will need your advice and your strength as we meet this horrible enemy, for she cannot win, Side Stripe. We cannot let her win.

I could feel his spirit enlarge, as if he was taking the first step in this new state of being. We won’t let her win.

Watch with me. We will remember everything. And we will use this information to kill them all. I felt his acknowledgement.

I didn’t know I could do this, but when the Eagle had died, I had felt his spirit emerge and felt the witch magic pull at it to lead it to their evil brew. I instinctively cried out to him in my mind and he had answered! Cassandra did not seem to be able to detect if the spirit had actually gone into the pot or not. Though I could feel her dark magic still pulling at the spirit of the eagle, I was able to overpower that magic and bring him into my spirit instead. I had no idea how the spirits of an eagle, a snake and a fox would affect me, but I knew they would never hurt me and assuredly would help me.

Roseline mounted the silver cauldron on a hook over the roaring flames of silver and blue, then faced the witch. With her wand in her right hand, Cassandra’s left hand moved into Roseline’s skin, “Tribuo tuam animus gratia tenebris, tribuo tuam vita gratia mortem.” She spoke the words of the spell, then a loud snap cracked as Cassandra broke her bone.

Still, Roseline did not scream. How I had underestimated my little sister thinking her weak and powerless, when in truth, there was a calculating monster occupying her skin. Cassandra removed her bloody hand, gripping a rib bone and handed it to Roseline, who put it into the pot with Side Stripe’s blood.

Cassandra waved her wand slowly over the boiling, red liquid. “Sit tuan os rapio volatus, sit tuan os tribuo vos alas.”

The cauldron hissed and roiled, then after a few moments a black bone lifted out of the boiling liquid—the previous two had been the color of human bone, as was Cassandra’s.

“By the Dark Sister, the curse on you is powerful. It has turned your bone black.” The black bone floated through the air, then attached to Roseline’s leg as I had watched occur with the previous two.

“The stronger the better,” Roseline growled.

The witch hung a large crystal jewel around her neck. “With this crystal, your pain and suffering shall be multiplied by a torturous degree. It will magnify the power of the curse as it magnifies the power of the curse back into you. Are you prepared for this sacrifice?”

I stared at that crystal knowing she would use it on me to steal my power. What were its secrets? I would remember every detail of this device.

“I am, my witch,” Roseline emphatically replied. For a moment, a smile of triumph curled her lips, until a blood-curdling scream sprang from those perfect lips and her eyes rolled upward to the moon. The slightest, almost imperceptible, dimming of the moon had begun.

Cassandra helped Roseline lie upon the bed of silver, obviously brought for this use as neither of the two previous women had done this. The smaller silver stand, however, had been used three times, to my horror and ruin.

As I watched the moon disappear, my sister screamed with such pain and agony, you would have thought she was burning alive—but there were no visible flames—these were the flames of Ursula’s curse. I had no sympathy for her, not as she screamed and moaned and begged for mercy, nor did the witch, who only stared down at her in amusement with each blood-curdling scream.

I watched as each of the warts, lumps and bumps resurfaced on her face, making her appear as she had the night of her transformation, but as the time passed, and as the moon’s light began to wink out, I saw that the damage was far worse than even that. Roseline appeared as a creature of the night—her face consumed in layers of warts and disfigurement, leaving only her lips unscathed. Her cries of pain reached a new level of intensity and I knew the jewel lying on her chest was playing its part, somehow magnifying the curse.

The moon was completely gone, the blackness only broken by the screams for death from Roseline and the crackling flames of the fires. The witch moved quickly. “You must now stand, Roseline. Come, you must not miss this opening of time.”

Slowly, Roseline obeyed, staggering to her feet to stand by the witch, who now faced her.

“Will you sacrifice all for this?” said the witch.

Roseline gathered her strength, panting with exertion. “Yes,” she uttered firmly, then took the silver knife from the witch’s hand that each of the others had used. Roseline’s hand felt her face, the destruction and ruin until she felt those perfect lips that had remained. Then, with a movement that shocked me in its quickness, she sliced them off in a stroke, then marched to the cauldron and tossed them in. “I give you all the beauty that I possess,” she said, slurring the words, which were almost unintelligible through the blood that now flowed from her mouth.

The witch joined her by the cauldron. “Will you sacrifice all for this?” she asked again.

“I will.” The words were surprisingly firm and distinct for one who was speaking with no lips.

I knew what was coming, but I would not look away. I didn’t look away as Keary had sliced off her right hand, her right ear and plucked her right eye from its orbit; nor as Zahra had sliced off both of her breasts. I could see they were sacrificing what they valued the most, but the final action was this one.

I watched as Cassandra’s hand moved back into the hole in Roseline’s chest and she uttered her spell, “Ego tribuo tenebris mea corde, ego tribuo tenebris mea animus.”

Cassandra’s hand lifted high into the air, now clenching Roseline’s beating heart. With no further fanfare, she placed it into the cauldron. Through some magic of Cassandra’s, Roseline did not fall dead to the ground as she clutched Cassandra’s hand.

Cassandra repeated the chant again, waving her wand over the boiling cauldron, “Ego tribuo tenebris mea corde, ego tribuo tenebris mea animus.” A black wand floated out of the roiling liquid, again different in color from the others. Roseline extended her arm and it wrapped around her left wrist.

Cassandra led her to the small silver platform. A young girl of about ten stared at Roseline; she could have been her daughter—beautiful, blond with green eyes. Each of the little girls had resembled their murderer, perhaps another not so subtle test from Cassandra. After all, if they could kill their own daughters…. Cassandra had demonstrated what to do with the first child she had killed. None of the three had so much as batted an eyelash. Cold-blooded murderers.

“Please, please, let me live,” this girl desperately pleaded.

Roseline stared down at her as if she were nothing. “If I would kill my own sister to become a witch, do you think I would have any compunction not to end your life to save my own?” She slurred her words through that ruined mouth, snarling a laugh as she took the blade and carved out the heart of the now lifeless child and brought it to her lips, her eyes to the sky as the moon began to exit the eclipse.

Cassandra’s wand waved as she murmured her enchantment, but my eyes were on Roseline as she ravenously ate the heart of that innocent child, her eyes fixated on the moon. Her bloodied, lipless mouth consumed the heart quickly like the monster she was.

Cassandra led her by the hand to the silver platform, instructing her to lie down again, and adjusted the jewel over the open maw in her chest, never releasing her hand. She had held the hand of each of the previous converts as well, but neither of them had lain upon this silver platform.

Cassandra continued her low chants as the moon slowly escaped the eclipse from the sun. “Ego tribuo tenebris mea corde, ego tribuo tenebris mea animus.”

Whatever power Roseline had gained from eating the heart was now giving her strength. And then I saw her face begin to change. The warts and bumps disappeared. Cassandra placed the sliver of silver into Roseline’s chest, and as the last rays of the eclipse ended, Cassandra placed her hand over the hole in Roseline’s chest—it closed. No sign of a mar, nor scar, and as the full light of the moon fell onto Roseline, her new face was revealed: breathless perfection. As I gazed at my sister, her face almost seemed to transform, as if her face was no longer fixed, as if it had the ability to change. How could that be? But it must be the power of the dark magic that now flowed through her veins.

Cassandra removed the jewel from around Roseline’s neck and pocketed it, her eyes meeting mine. “You’ll be wearing it next,” she cackled, “but your transformation will be far, far different.” She turned back to my sister. “You felt your face, Roseline. Compared to the night when you winnowed, how much did the crystal magnify the curse?”

“I would guess five times or more, my witch.”

The witch arched an eyebrow. “Really?” she said, then grinned at me with such viciousness that I felt it in my soul. This rite, this disgusting ceremony, had gutted me. But I would not lose hope. I would use my anger and terror to find something, anything, that could stop her.

“Stand, Roseline,” she commanded.

Roseline sat up, then practically bounded to her feet before bowing low before her. Again, Cassandra spoke the same words she had spoken before. “The Dark Sister has blessed you and made you a witch. Do you swear to obey me, to follow me, to do all I ask of you, Princess Roseline?”

“To my death, my witch, I swear allegiance to you for as long as I walk this earth and the darkness beyond it,” Roseline swore fervently.

“Hold out your wand and repeat these words after me: Ut imperium autem quod tenebris soror benedicite ego apud magna imperium.”

Roseline did as she was told. As she repeated the words, her wand came to life. Again, glowing darkness seemed to fill it, yet the blackness of her wand only seemed to make it all the more ominous.

Cassandra extended her hand and motioned her to stand, then gestured the other two to join her. Roseline now stood with Keary and Zahra under the scrutiny of Cassandra’s calculating eye. She finally purred, “Hello, my witches!”

How they grinned and laughed as they bowed low before her. “My witch, we are yours to command,” they declared together.

Cassandra grinned ferociously, reveling as Queen of her Coven. She turned to the girl with the blue eyes. “You know Francesca as my Dux, the one who leads my Cornu Inhumanus. She will send each of you your own girl to watch over you. You can summon them by the following spell, ‘Ego arcesso mea Dux.’ They have information to share with you, things that I find too boring to waste my time detailing to you personally. Return to my estate. Practice riding your bones at night. I’ll return within the week and we will begin our work.”

She paused for effect, then spoke in a voice of utter conceit, “For if Queen Zahra, Queen Roseline and Queen Keary are to reign, there must be no King Ivan, King Michael, King Hector, Queen Opal, Queen Marta, or Prince Bartholomew.”

The three new witches bowed low before her, practically groveling at her feet. Her eyes darted to me, her lips in a snake-like smile, and my heart broke into a dozen more pieces.

It was freezing as we streaked through the air—the witch on her bone, the wagon that carried me attached to her with a chain made of the same iridescent silver metal as the net that enclosed me. Somehow, the metal warmed me barely enough to keep me from freezing to death.

When we had first soared into the air, the wagon had banked sharply. For a moment, I swear I had spotted Bart riding Bear at the edge of the forest, barely visible in the bright moonlight, yet when I blinked, they were gone. But I knew my friends had not abandoned me, they were close, I could feel them—in the air, in the sea below—begging, pleading for my life, staying as close as the witch’s curse allowed. Calm, my dear ones, calm. I will find a way. This is not over yet.

I tried to focus on the feeling I’d had when I had sat on the Throne of the Guides. Of the power and light that filled me, strengthening me. The witch thought I was dehydrated and weak, but I had all my strength and I would use it. I would play my part, I would appear weak, I would not speak, and I would wait for my chance.

But this magical net... its dark power seemed invincible. My body felt dead to me. It was hard to fight the doubts. The gloom. The inevitable end that seemed to whisper to me from the blackness, perhaps from the very links of the net itself. The Solstice. Instead of this being my day of bliss, marrying the man I loved so very dearly, it would become the day of my death. I could feel the tears begin again and blinked them away.

Don’t listen to your doubts, Princess. We will find a way, Side Stripe whispered to me. Eagle and Snake murmured their agreement. That was an odd sensation; I had first learned to listen to my sisters’ voices, whom I could no longer hear assuredly due to this net. I was thankful to have these lovely spirits to speak to me, to help me, and I felt much less alone.

They were right, I could not give in to this desolation. At least I could still move my neck, could still use my brain… then it hit me—why did my neck work? This net was obviously powerful, I couldn’t wiggle so much as a little toe, so how could I move my neck? I paused to consider it and only came up with one explanation—the orb. Could the orb, now hidden under my skin, still be protecting me? Could it be that powerful? Was that why I could still call the animals that were sacrificed during the ceremony? Why I could still feel the animals around me now?

I tried to figure it out, to find an answer, and think of something, of anything to do with this potential information, but instead, I fell into a deep sleep.

Cassandra

I’ll admit it. I was so exhilarated that I was having a hard time staying on my bone because I felt like I could fly without it! It had all worked. All my plans: the plotting, the murders, the lies, the tricks, all had come to fruition and I could feel the power, taste the omnipotence that I would soon possess. My increase in power from the Phoenix Anniversary added to the Winnowwood’s power—multiplied by a factor of five or more, if Roseline’s estimate was correct. My soul quivered with the thought of it. I would be far more powerful than when I was a Guide. I would be… unstoppable!

I glanced over at the wagon containing my precious cargo. I knew she’d be stupid and arrogant, unable to wield her true power, unable to detect my plot. Turn in your grave, Mother! You brought this about when you missed your chance to kill me. And now, the last of your kind will die. I threw my head back and cackled with all the darkness my soul possessed. I could see the birds in the air, the whales and creatures in the sea, lurking, waiting to save their Queen. My spell kept them away and would keep them away, they would not have a chance to be near her. Not until they came to claim her bones!

From out of the darkness, the coastline of Druzzlandt appeared. My destiny—shrouded in darkness. How perfect. For it would be darkness that would determine the destiny of the world. My darkness. A darkness which would burn through this world in terror and violence. A darkness that would convert this world from one that pretended to look to the light to one that eagerly worshipped the darkness and all it embodied. There would be no escape. For anyone.

I hissed a breath of exaltation and could feel the thunder in me begging for release. And by the Dark Sister, I would find my release.

Light streamed in through the window. I watched the dust motes roiling in the air as if they yearned for the light. I huffed a long breath that whisked them back into the darkness and smiled.

“What’s so amusing, Cassandra Dragon Slayer?” his voice of velvet inquired.

“Nothing for you to be concerned with, Prince,” I replied, my voice edged like a razor.

I could feel his eyes on me, the worry hidden behind that arrogant smile now hovering on his lips. Smell the fear. So worried he hadn’t serviced me well enough. I sighed contentedly as I placed my hand on his beautiful chest. “Don’t worry, Prince, if I didn’t think you’d given it your all, you’d already know it.” I stroked his chest, “Have you completed the tasks I gave you?”

“My father will release you from your oath before the ceremony begins,” he said solemnly, “if you allow him to make the final blow on the Winnowwood to end her. I told him I was not sure you would agree, but as all our people will be gathered to watch the punishment of the one who killed thousands of our warriors, he has demanded it.”

By the end, she would be a shell. He was welcome to her and I needed to be released from my oath. “Done. Next.”

Unsure how to respond to my easy acceptance of his father’s demand, he simply nodded. “I've built the platform for the Winnowwood to your specifications. As you know, the castle entrance faces east, and you requested to stand directly opposite her on the top step of the Shrine of the Mother at a precise distance of twenty-five yards.”

The distance was set by the specific requirements to maximize the powers of the crystals. The symbolism of my standing on that top step of the shrine when I received the power from the ceremony would only cement my place of honor in the hearts of these fearsome people. They may be a blood-thirsty lot, but they knew to fear witches and they would be the first of my subjects to bend the knee. I nodded my assent.

“You said your measurements were precise and I had to be exact.”

I nodded again.

“Since I cannot move the stair of the shrine, I had to build the platform over the moat.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, having her placed over water was not as comforting as the stone floor of the castle.

“I’ve built in more security to make up for that. Her hands will be shackled to the platform next to her feet, to ensure she can’t put her arms over her head, using the same shackles that we used on you—they are impenetrable to magic. In addition, a tight noose around her neck will be secured by a lock next to me on the halyard made of the same material. That will ensure she can’t dive down, where her hands would be above her head. I will be able to control her to ensure she stays in the correct position.” He seemed sure that he had delivered all I requested.

I gave him a look that froze his blood. “I will inspect the preparations with you.”

“Of course.” The smug smile disappeared from his lips.

“I’ll meet you at the gate in one hour.”

He knew he had been dismissed. I watched closely as he hurriedly dressed, covering that beautiful body that had served me so well. He gave a short bow. I nodded him away, then lay back and watched the dust motes dancing in the light before I blew them back into the darkness again.

I let out a sigh of satisfaction as I thought of the delicious delights of the previous night, stretching my sore body to relax the hard-used muscles that had given me such release. My perfect, beautiful body—thanks to the four little girls I had dined on that Dagna had acquired for me.

It had been so lovely to lock the Winnowwood in the same room where I had spent the last hundred years. The powers of the wards and spells were still in place, no one could save her from that prison. How well I knew that. I sighed with pleasure. Tomorrow was the Solstice—my day of becoming. To think, only two months ago I thought my life over. Yet here I was—about to become the mistress of the world. All because of that brainless princess.

I told you I would win. You believed me, didn’t you? Are you now ready to join me? To join the darkness? Has it called to you at last? I hope so. I have shared my secrets with you and now it is time for you to show your loyalty. Join me.

Olive

When I awoke, the orb was entwined in my paralyzed hands. Oh, you are so clever, I thought to myself. In my dream, I was floating through space surrounded by crystals like the one that had hung around Roseline’s neck, prisms of light beaming down on me like a thousand gleaming rainbows. It reminded me of the day in the glen with the droplets of water shimmering and shining, their prisms splintered and casting upon each drop below it, transferring their light into the next droplet. I don’t know if my dream came from that moment, or if the dream reminded me of that moment, but the orb had taken my initial thought of what I needed it to become and turned it into a multitude of crystals that danced before me, rollicking in the light of the moon and filling me with joy. It knew it would be my salvation. I was learning more of her secrets, more of her power, and was so thankful it was still hanging around my neck protecting me, for it truly was my last hope. Or perhaps I should say, the last hope for the world, because no matter how I looked at it, there would be no escape for me—but Cassandra would not steal my powers. I would not give her the ability to dominate the world as a Guide with more power than any being had ever possessed. No. I now knew what to do. I had to be clever, had to convince her of my pain, of my terror, or my plan would not work.

Lying on that cold floor, gazing at the few embers which remained in the fire, I considered my death. It broke my heart that I would never see my friends again, my mother, and Bart. Bart. The only man who saw me for who I was, who asked me to marry him when I was hideous. The man with whom I would have lived a happy life. All my dreams now crushed by this evil.

I thought of my sister and what she had done. How she had betrayed me… for beauty. Evil. It had such power. Such a hold over man, or woman. I remembered her words in the cave, “It is evil that will save this world by destroying it.”

I would not let that happen. I would give the world a chance to survive. To find the good in the world and to fight the evil. To live with grace, with joy, and kindness. I suddenly remembered the words of Great Mother that Ursula had quoted to me, “Evil is always with us. And if forces of good are not vigilant, are not courageous and true, then evil will win out, and it should win if we are not brave enough to fight it.” In the name of Great Mother, I would not let evil win out today and would fight it as bravely as I could. I would die, but I would fight evil until my last breath.

We will fight them with you. I felt the spirits of Side Stripe, the eagle and the snake, strengthen in determination.

Thank you, my friends. Please, help me to see, help me to hear. Let us find a way to defeat her.

I heard them long before I saw them, a clanging in the hallway of chain mail, swords, and danger. The orb disappeared into my skin.

The key in the lock turned harshly. The iron door heaved open as the hinges creaked in protest. Cassandra strolled in. Dazzling, in a gown of black silk, an extravagant crown of diamonds adorned her head, her wand in her hand. From her neck hung the crystal that she had used on Roseline, the one that had somehow magnified the power of the curse. I stared at it, memorizing its features, taking in each and every detail.

I swear her evilness had a stench that I could smell, and wondered if she had recently fed on some innocent’s heart. It filled me with loathing, with disgust, but primarily, with courage. I might be on my way to die, but I would face it with as much courage as I could muster because I knew I would need every scintilla of that courage to foil her plan before I died.

“It is time for you to change the world, little princess. You will forever be remembered for condemning the world to darkness. My darkness,” she said in a voice rife with malevolence. “I’ll ensure the world remembers your name forever. The little girl who gave us eternal darkness…” she chuckled with delight “… Olive.”

She glared down upon me and I played my part—sobbing and crying, pleading for my life. “No! Please! Don’t kill me,” I sniveled. How she laughed, like a croaking goat, horrific. The guards grabbed me up by my arms, the net still tight around me, I screamed in terror as they roughly jerked me back to my immobile feet. Hanging my head, weeping and heaving, helpless as a newborn lamb, but inside—I raged.

Cassandra

It was still well before the dawn as I made my way to the main entrance of the castle, the guards carrying that sobbing Winnowwood behind me. How she whimpered and whined like the sniveling coward she was.

King Viratrex and Prince Dagna joined me at the main gates of the castle, Viratrex with the Sword of the King: a fearsome blade honed to an edge that looked like it could split the very rays of light bouncing off it given the chance. His ruddy face a portrait of wicked satisfaction knowing he would make the final blow as he eyed the immobile, slight girl in the net.

The most important person for me was the sorcerer standing behind him—his protector—Cormatrix, crafty and brilliant to the core, he was far more powerful than I had given him credit, but today would be his last as well. As I had promised Dagna, I would kill the sorcerer, but I would do it in private, so that Dagna could say the sorcerer killed the king. He needed that excuse as it would be Dagna who would wrap his hands around his father’s neck and choke the very life out of him. But no one would know of that. No one would know how Dagna had begged me for that pleasure, and in return, he would be enslaved to me forever.

As I gazed at Cormatrix, that plan filled me with calm. My eyes turned to the king, who then nodded at the sorcerer. He stepped towards me and brought out his wand—an insubstantial wooden thing that belied its true power. His reedy, ancient voice uttered, “Circiter saramentum est finitus. Circiter devinctio est confragosus.” He stepped back to the side of the king, wand still at the ready.

I could feel it immediately: the bond between the king and I was gone. I was free. I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to kill them all at this moment with a flick of my wand, but I forced myself to remember that would not serve my long-range plans.

I took a deep, calming breath and bowed low to the king. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He gave me a nod of acknowledgement. A nod! He should have bowed so low before me he could have kissed my foot. What a fool. I glanced over at Dagna, who did not meet my gaze but had a look of satisfaction on his face that foretold all. Today, we would dine on the blood of our enemies.

The twenty-foot-high oak doors of the castle slowly swung open, revealing the people of the city, who broke out in uproarious cheers so loud and vicious, it was like a wave crashing onto the shore, vibrating against my body. The four of us walked out together, the armed escort dragging the Winnowwood behind us as she mumbled and cried pathetically—an utter weakling. I hoped she would excel at screaming to amuse the crowd.

King Viratrex lifted his sword into the air and the crowd was instantly silenced. His voice was like a cold wind soaked in death. “Cassandra Dragon Slayer has brought me that which she promised—the murderer of thousands of our brave men—Princess Olive—the Last of the Winnowwood. She will now meet her justice!”

Dagna knew to be careful as he directed the guards to bring the princess up the steps of the scaffolding. Before he allowed the net to be removed from her, he placed the blue-tinged iron shackles around her wrists, securing them to the iron hasps anchored to the floor of the wooden platform. He carefully took the noose made of thick rope and placed it around her neck and attached it directly to the iron chain made of the same enchanted metal that glowed with an eerie blue shimmer. Those chains and shackles were the construct of the sorcerer, the same shackles that had once held me—they were impervious to magic, as I well knew, yet the metal would not interfere with the transfer of power, as the net would have.

Dagna tightened the chain until the Winnowwood was practically pulled off her feet. He secured the chain firmly to the iron post on the side, then took up his position next to her. His father stood on the opposite side, sword at the ready, eager to make the killing blow.

Still the tears streamed down the Winnowwood’s face, the crying never ending. She was such a predictable little bore. I nodded at Dagna, who finally removed the magical netting, hitching it onto his belt. Then he took out the twin Ultimus Procresco and hung it around her neck, centering the crystal over her breasts. Perfect.

With that, and with four guards surrounding me, I made my way across the drawbridge and began my climb up the steps of the Shrine of the Mother. It was perfect. The perfect setting for me to begin my legend. My reign.

Dagna had done his job well. As the sky turned to lavender and pinks to greet the sunrise, a hundred drummers beat mesmerizing rhythms while a hundred vestals clad in red robes stood along the steps of the shrine chanting their death songs—begging for an excruciating finish.

The voices of the crowd screamed in anticipation, “Kill, kill, death! Blood, blood, death!” Wonderful. I would give them everything they wanted: pain, suffering and death.

The cacophony of it all was thrilling, the crowd in full uproar, the chanting, the pounding of the drums. I strolled to the top step, turned around, and faced the Winnowwood. It was now only moments before the first rays of the Solstice would light the day, striking her crystal, forever changing the world. I stared at her; she was still blubbering, tears streaming down her face. I let myself smile—how could such a weakling have such power? But not for long. Not. For. Long. Let the transfer of power be made!

The rays of the sun broke through the air and struck the Winnowwood. I could feel the power as we joined—it was intoxicating. Olive’s scream split the air—a scream of primal terror and pain. If filled me with joy.

I lifted my wand into the air to begin the Spell of Breaking, “Transfero vester magice. Dare ego vester opulentia. Transfero vester magice. Liberare totus de vester opulentia ad ego!”

I could feel the power between the crystals roiling. Compounding. I continued the chant, “Transfero vester magice. Dare ego vester opulentia. Transfero vester magice. Liberare totus de vester opulentia ad ego!”

The power was there! I could feel it. The power of the Phoenix joined with the power of the crystals. I was taken over in a fervor of the spell’s power, repeating and repeating the incantation, “Transfero vester magice. Dare ego vester opulentia. Transfero vester magice. Liberare totus de vester opulentia ad ego!” How her screams ignited me to cry all the louder as she suffered—she almost looked as if she were having some kind of a paroxysm: her head shook back and forth in terror as she gazed into the sky, as if she was saying no to the devil. Oh, Princess, I am far worse than the devil.

With the drums pounding their death song, I wrapped myself in the magic of the spell. “Transfero vester magice. Dare ego vester opulentia. Transfero vester magice. Liberare totus de vester opulentia ad ego!”

With each scream, I bathed in her pain, until suddenly I could no longer feel the limitless power that had begun the bond between us. In fact, in the past few moments, if anything, I felt weakened… weakened?!

I stopped speaking and gazed across the distance between us. She let out yet another blood-curdling scream. I looked at the hand that held my wand—it was not my hand! It was covered in age spots, veins and wrinkles! I felt my face—a rough, leather-like hide of sagging flesh! By the Dark Sister, what had happened? It was at that moment that she looked at me and smiled.

I felt like a lightning bolt had hit me. The tears—how could she cry when she was supposed to be dehydrated? I looked up to where she had been staring—there was the prince! That’s who she was signaling. She had tricked me! That spineless little fool had tricked me.

Die! She must die! With a rage that nearly destroyed my ability to think, I gave the king the signal to kill the Winnowwood. He immediately stepped forward, raising his sword for the killing blow.

Just as a blue-tipped arrow sliced through the air, striking the magical metal lock that held the rope to the noose, destroying it.

Before the broken metal pieces could fall to the ground, Olive dived forward, flipping downward, her hands now over her head, and in that instant, right before her arms would have shattered against the wooden platform, she vanished. No, not vanished—a fleck of a minnow fell downward and disappeared into the moat. The drumming stopped. The chanting stopped.

I turned, searching the crowd for the prince and spied him high above the crowd, perched on a turret of the shrine—his bow aimed at me! The arrow released. I cried out, “Protectrix!” My wand barely had the power to deflect the arrow. How could this have happened? How could that stupid little princess have bested me?

A roar ripped through the air. People screamed in terror as they ran from me. I turned around. There in front me was the Kerestenebrae on the edge of the moat with the Ultimus Procresco hanging from her neck.

Why didn’t you warn me? You should have warned me! I have told you everything. I took you into my confidence. You traitor! You sniveling, wretched traitor!

Then the beast opened its mouth and I saw the flames.

Olive

In those moments after I had been chained and the sun had not yet broken the horizon, through my fake tears, I calmed my mind and spoke to the orb. Showing it what it needed to become. Letting it serve me. Knowing it would save the world. I could feel the rounded shape of the orb change into a flattened form and line up directly underneath the crystal around my neck. I had to trust that it would be what I needed, what the world needed, to foil her plan—a third crystal to refract all of her magic back into me. Like the droplets of water that transferred their light onto the next droplet, I would steal Cassandra’s power with this third crystal. To leave her a shell. A powerless shell.

And though I was fearful of what those first rays of light would do to me, when I felt their power, it felt like I was bathing in light, in warmth, in a power that could be used for good. I let out a scream of utter agony that was really my battle cry. I had a hard time remembering to scream, but scream I did as I knew my life depended on it, or at least the life of the world. My battle cry of victory, of love, of triumph over this monster and, oh, how I screamed. And with each scream, I watched her face smiling in triumph, in wicked pleasure, thinking she was winning. I wondered how long it would take her to figure out what was happening? I needed to play my part as the screaming weakling convincingly to fool her long enough to steal as much power as I could. I needed to leave her a shell—a shell that would be unable to rule—a ruined husk of nothing. Let her remain evil, but evil without power. How she would despise herself.

Look up, Princess. Look up to the tower of the shrine, warned Eagle.

I looked up. Bart. By some miracle, he was here, perched on the turret across from me. Though he wore a dark, grey-black cape that helped him to blend into the stone of the shrine, I knew it was him. I could feel his presence. He lifted his bow, nocked with a blue-tipped arrow and I shook my head. Willing him to stop, I shook my head, pretending to be stunned by the power of the sun’s rays, screaming as I stared at him, “Nooooooo!” He lowered his bow and I screamed and shrieked all the louder as I nodded.

The power ripped into me with a force that was staggering but did not weaken me. No, with each second that passed, I felt more and more invincible. The orb was helping me steal her power and I was keeping all of mine. And these crystals were not evil, Cassandra had misjudged their character. Their power felt good and overflowing with the light. Then I saw it—the moment she finally realized what was happening. Silent at last, her wand fell. And I looked her in the eye and smiled. It no longer mattered what happened to me, she would no longer be able to terrorize this world. The power in my soul decried that as the truth I now knew.

Then I saw Bart stand and nock his arrow.

To your right, Princess! The sword! hissed Snake.

The king moved, lifting his mighty sword toward me. A flash of blue. An arrow shattered the chain on the halyard to my left that had held my neck. I flipped forward. My arms now above my head, in less than half a second, I transformed into a minnow and dove into the moat.

I was free. I never thought I would be free again. And Bart was here. Bart! I had to save him. In a flash, I remembered the power of the creature that had appeared at the lake—its strength, its power. And its fire! As I thought it, lifting my flippers, I transformed, leaping onto the edge of the moat, Cassandra Dragon Slayer directly in front of me. Then I roared.

I will never forget the look on her face as I burnt her into ash—utter shock. The stupid little girl had bested her. I snarled with terrorizing power and the people ran before me, but I knew that wouldn’t last. I had surprised them, but these were a warrior’s people, and I needed to escape. But the ash… I kicked at it, trying to scatter it, as there was no way I could collect it in this form.

Then I spotted it. The matching crystal to what I wore half buried in the ash. Next to it I saw her wand. I clasped both in my claw, then flapped my wings, landing on the turret where Bart hid. I released the crystal and wand from my claw, Bart grabbed them and pocketed them. No words were needed as he looked into my green eyes then clambered onto my back and we sailed off into the light of the dawn.

In seconds, we were surrounded by thousands of birds flanking us in protection as we flew east towards the sun, towards home. With the witch dead, her spell was broken. My friends had found me, even in this guise, they weren’t fooled, and I had Bart with me.

This morning, I was certain I would die, yet here I was—alive! With the man I loved. And the witch was dead. I had outsmarted her; this stupid little girl had beaten the five-hundred-year-old horror. I thanked the Great Mother for this miracle, my eyes welling with tears.

I could feel Bart’s hands clenching tightly to the ridges on my back. “Are you comfortable, my love?” I rumbled in the deep voice of the creature.

“Indeed, I am, my darling,” he replied, stroking his hand down my neck—or as much of my neck as he could reach. I heard the laughter in his voice, and the love. Such love. Love I thought I would never enjoy.

“Thank you for saving me again. Your timing was impeccable,” I said.

“As was yours, and I offer you the same gratitude.”

“Seems as if we’re always saving each other.” I laughed, which sounded low and gruff in the voice of the creature.

“Thank the Mother for that!” Bart joined in my laughter.

“How in the world did you get there so quickly?”

“My darling, you are speaking to a Whale Rider. Bear and all the animals of the land devised that transportation for me. Though I must say, even with Bear’s growls and snarls of encouragement when he took me to the sea, I was somewhat intimidated.” He snorted with delight. “I was escorted by all the birds of the air and the creatures of the sea.”

“I would have loved to have seen that.”

“Perhaps you shall, my dear, as it now seems that we are actually going to live.”

“Isn’t that lovely,” I sighed in triumph.

“Still agreeable to marrying me, my love?”

It was the day we had planned to marry! How could it still be the solstice? It seemed impossible given the events of the last thirty-six hours. “I could think of nothing that would please me more, my darling.”

Our wedding day. The wedding I thought I would never be part of. My mother, not knowing of our troubles, had arranged the event as I had instructed her in my letter—only her to act as our witness and the priestess to perform the marriage rights in a private ceremony. She had prepared my gown and supplies, which we transported with us as we rode to the glen, arriving in the late afternoon. The glen was a moving landscape of Great Mother’s creatures. While I wanted few people to attend, I certainly wanted all my friends to be there. I had sent the birds ahead to tell everyone to gather at the glen and they were all here.

Bart quickly erected our tent as Mother helped me unpack our supplies. Before long, all was ready. Bart changed first and left through the rear of the tent so I would not see him.

As I prepared for the ceremony, Mother adjusted my headdress, decorated with diamonds and silver with emblems of animals worked into the metal. My dress of white had a silver train that looked like moonbeams given life—the wedding dress of the Queen of the Winnowwood. It was ancient and blessed and permeated with power.

“You look lovely, my daughter,” she said with tears in her eyes. “May the Great Mother bless this union with all the goodness the world contains.”

“I know she has blessed this union. And I know much will be asked of us,” I touched my hand to her face. She clasped my hand and held it to her cheek as tears filled her eyes. “And I am ready, Mother.”

When we exited the tent, Bear was there waiting, looking so very sad. “I have terrible news, Princess.” He paused. “Side Stripe,” he said softly.

I put my hand on his head and rubbed his ear. “It is not as bad as you fear.” I encouraged Side Stripe to speak and I sent his voice to Bear.

“I’m still here, Bear. I’m here with the princess and I will continue to protect her,” he said softly.

Bear looked at me in surprise. I placed my hand on his furry cheek. “When Roseline killed him, I called his spirit to mine and he has joined with me, as have Eagle and Snake, who were murdered with him.”

Bear looked at me in surprise. “You need to tell me more of what has happened to you and your powers.”

“Luckily, there is now time for that,” I said. “And that is only because you sent Bart to me. He saved me when I was sure only death was in my future.”

Bear growled his response, “He is kind and brave, and it is time that you are joined with him.” He and Mother escorted me to the priestess and Bart, who stood in the center of the glen while the Bestiallas formed a large ring surrounding us.

Bart had gathered a bouquet of winter flowers for me, wrapped in the bandages I kept in the shed. “Like the bandages you wrapped my shoulder with the night I fell in love with you.”

I kissed him on the cheek in thanks. “And I with you.”

In the last rays of the sun, I faced the west opposite Bart, both of us wearing the crystals. I could still feel the power of the last rays of the sun entering me, and hoped that somehow, I could transfer some of my magic to Bart. After all, there were three witches in these lands and with so many forces working against us in the world, he would need all the power and protection I could offer.

As the light poured into my crystal, a calm came over me. Then the animals began their hum. Like the night when I had first worn the robe of the High Priestess, the same low humming was coming from them now. I knew it was a blessing. I raised my arms to Great Mother and thanked her for saving us, for protecting us, for bringing us here to this place to join us together.

The humming continued as the priestess stepped forward and spoke her words, her blessings, her prophecy for our future. Her voice hummed like the animals, ethereally, in solemnity, “This union shall be a force for good in this world. Together, you will remind your people of the power of goodness and light as you fight against the darkness. May the Great Mother be with you on every step of your journey. This marriage is blessed!”

I looked to Bart as he drew me close into his arms. “I love you, Olive, my dear, brave wife!” He kissed me. A kiss of joy, of belonging, of hope. His lips seemed electrified, filling me with a power of their own.

When he finally pulled away, I asked, “Did you feel the power of the rays of the sun?”

He grinned slyly. “I don’t know if it was from the sun or from your beautiful lips, but I feel terrific!”

Hmm. I doubted anything had happened to him. Disappointment gnawed at me, wondering what else I could do to protect my beloved.

My mother and the priestess had departed right after the ceremony with Cougar and Wolf and an escort of birds of prey to guard their way and lead them back to Bart’s Cave where we would join them tomorrow. Night fell quickly. Bear and others had built a huge pyre in the firepit that burned brightly. It would be cold tonight, yet I knew when we joined, it had to be under the light of the moon. We had a pile of blankets and silks to lie on next to the fire.

Bart had already changed into his robe and was waiting for me. I was in the tent changing into mine—the robe of the High Priestess. We still wore the crystals around our necks; if sunlight hadn’t worked, I hoped the light of the moon would.

I was filled with a sense of anticipation, but primarily a sense of love. A love so deep and pure, it quieted my mind and fed my soul, yet I was still nervous, so very nervous, to stand naked before Bart. But while it was completely nerve racking, it also made my toes curl with desire. The orb hung between my breasts, back in its familiar round shape. I clasped it in my hand—hundreds of tiny lightning bolts blazing across its face—I could feel its power. The power it had been key in transferring to me. I took a deep breath and walked out of the tent to Bart and our future.

I looked at Bart as we stood on the pile of blankets and silks, the moon high overhead, drenching the land in its silver moonbeams like a comforting blessing from the Great Mother herself, and I kissed him. The joining spell was flickering upon us in anticipation of its completion and seemed to fill the air with electricity. It was hard to pull away from him, even a moment.

“Forgive me, my love, for I know this is unconventional, but I feel as if Great Mother is instructing me and I must follow her words,” I said quietly.

“I am yours to command, my wife. As I will be every day that I live.” Bart looked into my eyes, with no amusement, no smirk, but with a seriousness I had rarely seen.

I slowly spun in place; my arms lifted to the sky. “Great Mother, bless this union. Great Mother, bless this marriage. Great Mother, bless this joining tonight.” The animals again began to hum. Though they encircled us at a discreet distance; they were there to witness, for I was their Queen, their High Priestess, and this was our future. I unlatched each of the lightning bolts and my robe fell to the ground. Naked, I turned to Bart.

I was almost unable to process what had just happened. Bart and I had joined, and it was… there were no words for what it was. I could already feel its power. What a twenty-four hours. Yesterday, I was preparing to die. Today, I had my life. The life of my dreams. I lay wrapped in the arms of my beloved, knowing I would always have his arms to hold me, to comfort me and protect me as I would protect him. I sighed with a contentment I had never known as I felt Bart’s arms tighten around me, pulling me closer into his body, and his lips kissed the back of my neck. I stared at the moon, overcome with bliss, and snuggled closer.

There had been no sign that the rays of the sun, nor the rays of the moon, had affected Bart. I wondered if I was missing something. Now that I had a moment to think about it, I wondered how much of Cassandra’s magic had transferred to me? I didn’t feel particularly different, but I knew I had absorbed tremendous power during the ceremony. I wasn’t afraid of the power, I could feel it now and it felt warm and good, and seemed to hum in me like a very quiet bee. There, gently humming in my soul.

It began to snow. I watched a snowflake frolicking in the air, making its way gently to earth and waited for it to land on my face, but it didn’t. As if some mysterious barrier had stopped it, it hung in the air right over my head. Additional snowflakes joined the first. Slowly, they began to gather.

Bart softly murmured, “Something new?”

I looked back to the snowflakes, collecting in greater numbers on the mysterious barrier, then turned to face him. “I’m not doing this.”

“What?” he paused. “You think I am? I have no magic,” he firmly declared.

I smiled at him, bringing my lips to his and whispered, “I think you are wrong. I think something has changed.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. It may be the charm Ursula put on our joining, or something may have transferred between us with the crystals, but one thing I do know is I am not doing this.” My finger traced the barrier now gathering clumps of snow. I could reach through it, but the flakes were trapped on the other side. “I think you are protecting me.”

Bear gave us a growl of warning as he approached. “My Queen, is anything wrong?” he asked warily.

“Everything is perfect, Bear. Why do you ask?”

“There is magic in the air. I can feel it,” he solemnly declared.

“Do not worry, my friend. Indeed, I have never known such happiness. Perhaps that is the magic you feel?”

“Then Great Mother has blessed you both,” he said, bowing low before us. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

With that, Bear plodded back to his place in the circle of animals that protected us. I looked back to Bart, his eyes now wide as an owl’s eying its prey. “What’s wrong, my love?”

He took a few moments to form his words “Olive, I understood everything Bear just said.”

She watched as the beast flew into the sun, the crowd in chaos preparing for battle in case she returned. No one noticed the small girl with the brown ringlets and startling blue eyes as she gathered the ashes of the witch into a cloth, as well as the bone that had lain in the ashes.

She moved swiftly into a dark alleyway, pulled her black wagon from its hiding place and was quickly airborne. She had not hurried, had not wanted to catch the beast as she knew there was no vengeance in a direct confrontation at this moment. Her witch had taught her what to do, and she knew far more than her witch even imagined. It would be up to her to rally the three new witches to her and to launch her plan. And it would be a far different plan than her witch could have imagined.

Acknowledgements

I would not have the opportunity, or the will, to write my books without the support and assistance of my dear family. I am so very blessed to have a family who supports my dreams, as many people do not, and I know that well. I hope you too have people in your life who support you and help you achieve your dreams. If you don’t – go find them! Now. Please. You deserve it.

I thank you from the bottom of my imperfect heart, my dear Bunny, Peep, Mosey and Booy!

The brilliant Mikey Brooks designed the beautiful cover and interior of this book. You can reach him at www.mikeybrooks.com.

About the Author

I grew up as a military brat who travelled the world with my family. We moved ten times before I was twelve. Given that transient lifestyle, I had very few friends and I was quite shy. It always took some time to warm up to new surroundings and by the time I did, we were off to our next assignment. Books became my best friends and I lost myself to them. The wonderful, amazing world of books where you can live hundreds of lives that seem far more interesting than your own. Maybe you know that feeling too?

This book was inspired by my love of fairy tales that I developed at a very young age. I loved the magic and the adventure but grew weary that all of the princesses were beautiful (like Disney movies). I didn’t understand why a princess couldn’t be smart and kind and still worthy of wonderful adventures and finding true love. So, I wrote my own fairytale. I hope you love Olive like I do. Thank you for reading my book!