His mouth is so close, I feel his breath. A thought dances in my brain: this is it! I am about to be kissed for the first time. But then my stupid brain takes a sour turn, goes on the attack, and darkness descends. "Are you sure you want this?" I say.
"Why wouldn't I?"
It's only fair to tell him. "You'd be kissing a monster."
"Show me your claws, and I will share my flesh. Show me your fangs, and I will happily give you my blood. You already haunt my dreams. So yes, this is what I want."
Suddenly his lips press against mine, moving gently but firmly, then not so gently. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth and my tongue meets his. My body is set aflame the kiss deepens and deepens, and soon my brain surrenders its assault. I am pure spirit and joy and never want to awaken.
That was the moment I decided to pursue a career in law ...
... and never again fall victim to verbal trickery.
Just kidding!
That was the moment I resolved to throttle the evil queen and force her to reverse the spell. Or else!
I am Rowan Keckilpenny-Brown! Harbinger of evil. Destroyer of gyms, cemeteries, kitchens, firewalls, and now, evil queens!
This would be my new mantra!
My dads sat there, peering up at me with their bulbous eyes, jabbering in a tone reminiscent of a fingernail running along the teeth of a stiff comb. Even as anger coiled in my chest, I wanted to scoop them up and hold them tight, though I was a little weirded out by their bumpy skin. Like maybe I'd contract warts or something, given that I was apparently a witch. Just because Petronella didn't have warts (that I could see), didn't mean it wasn't a witchy trait.
Blue lightning sizzled from my fingertips, my eyes, and I'm pretty sure, also my ears given the way the tips were burning. I was my own personal storm. Clenching my jaw, I narrowed my eyes and pointed zappy fingers at my target—the evil queen's chest—and visualized what it would be like if her heart ceased to beat. I smirked at the image.
"Turn them back. NOW!" I demanded. "Or else!"
"How sweet! You're threatening me. But dearest, you are but an amateur."
"Never call me an amateur!" I screamed, unleashing my zappiness with such force that I toppled over backward and hit the ground hard on my tailbone, missing our new kitchen pit by mere inches. Argh! Even worse, the queen absorbed all that power without mussing a single hair on her head.
"Aren't you adorable thinking you can overpower me?" Petronella said, leaning over and tweaking my chin like I was a toddler. I could smell her lavender perfume. Yuck! I hated lavender, and that alone was legal grounds for her immediate death. She held out her dainty grandma's hand to me. "Come along now."
I sat there, folding my arms across my chest. "No!" Admittedly, I was acting like a child, but what choice did I have? I needed a new plan since blasting her with my magic hadn't worked.
And never underestimate the power of a good tantrum.
"Excuse me?" Petronella's voice was dark and threatening and did uncomfortable things to my sense of well-being.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"You would allow them," she glared at my dads with a pronounced sneer on her face, "to remain toads permanently?"
"Actually, now that I think about it more, you did me a favor," I lied. "Now I won't have to listen to them anymore because I don't speak toad. Also, I can drive the car and eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast. So, begone! Don't let the door hit you on the way out," I said. Of course, the door was half off its hinges, so that probably wouldn't be an issue.
"Minutes ago, you ordered me to change them back." The queen smiled, wide and toothy as a hungry shark. I swallowed hard. "Oh, Rowen. You will be a magnificent queen."
Wait, no. That wasn't supposed to be her reaction. "Why do you say that?" I said, not knowing if I wanted the answer.
"Because you use trickery and deceit to get your way. That's a very nice start. The most important task that lies ahead is for you to gain control. The castle won't appreciate it if you persist in blowing things up."
I rolled my eyes. "Castles are inanimate objects not capable of emotion." The almost sentient attic came to mind, but I pushed the thought away.
"You've never met Castle Brittlebane," she said.
"Brittlebane?"
"My castle. Soon your castle."
"Not my castle. Not my life. I am not going unless you turn them back."
"So, you do care about them. You know this gives me even more power over you? You have much to learn, but since you're new to all this, how about I make you a promise?"
"I see how well you stick to your promises. I cannot trust you," I growled.
"That will be your first lesson, my dear. Never trust anyone."
"I hate you!"
"Oh, I feel like your mother already," Petronella cooed.
This woman was clearly insane.
"You're nuts. I would rather poke my eyes out with a knitting needle than go with you. And you are not my mother."
"While the knitting needle idea could be fun," she purred, "it's not all that original. I'm sure you can do better."
Wow, aren't you the pot calling the cauldron black? Toads? Are you kidding me? That's the worst cliché ever."
"Toads make great pets," she said. "And they're useful because if they make you mad or piddle on the carpet, you can always have them for supper. They're simply delicious with melted butter."
"Gross."
"Now, Rowen, you may not come willingly, but you will come. Truly, I would prefer an agreeable heir, but I'm happy to use all means at my disposal to gain your cooperation. And believe me, you won't want to meet my 'means.' They can be quite painful."
The hairs on my neck stood up at attention like soldiers in the snow. "My means can be painful too," I warned, not wanting her to think I was weak.
The kitchen clock struck thirteen, and from outside came a loud boom followed by a cacophony of cracking branches and outraged bird squawks.
"He's arrived," Petronella said. "Right on time. Dragons are so punctual! Now here is my last offer. You agree to my lessons, and on the day of the oath-taking ceremony, you will have the ability to return the warlocks to their original form." She clapped her hands together. "Now, come meet Doryu. Chop chop."
Had this cartoon grandma in pearls just outplayed me? UGH! I promised myself never to allow this to happen again! "Fine, Nelly," I spat, scrambling up from the floor. I know you think this was dumb of me. To go to a far-off castle and take evil queen lessons with someone who was so ... evil and smelled like lavender, to boot. But what choice did I have? Just leave my dads to an amphibious fate? I may be a monster, but even monsters have hearts.
Petronella grimaced, and I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of a tear in her eye. "Never, ever, call me Nelly!" she said, low and dangerous. "Or I will send you to the dungeon, where feral rats will feast on your bones. I am not a horse!"
"Aren't all rats feral?" I sassed.
"This is going to be a long month," the evil queen said. "Gather the toads and come along. I need to consult my GPS."
"Witches use GPS?" I said.
"Of course, How would we navigate between realms without a goblin prognostication spell? We'd end up in the underworld, or even worse, Poughkeepsie. Bad weekend there in the nineties. Eighteen-nineties. Don't ask. And please try not to anger the dragon." Shaking her head, Petronella drifted out the window.
The air seemed to be sweeter and more oxygenated after she left. I gulped in several deep breaths, wondering how I would survive for a month myself.
But for me, this wasn't a month. This was going to be five hundred years. And even though I'm not an accountant, according to my calculations, five hundred years was much longer than a month.
I opened the lid to the terrarium and scooped up my dads, one in each hand. They were heavier than I thought they'd be, and their skin was dry as bones languishing in the desert. But the worst part was their scent. Because, although they were toads, they still smelled like fruit and mint and Christmas spice, and only through sheer stubbornness did I not cry like a baby.
A baby!
That gave me an idea!
A wonderful, perfect, amazing idea.
As I set my dads gently inside the terrarium, I whispered, "don't worry, guys, we'll not be staying long at the castle. Trust me, after a few days, Petronella will beg me to leave." With that, I closed the lid and hefted the terrarium into my arms. My dads were hopping around inside, causing the pebbles to knock against the sides. If they were trying to tell me something, I didn't know what. It's always difficult to understand one's parents, but amphibious parents were doubly hard.
I kicked open the broken door, which fell off its hinges onto the porch. Once the dust settled, I saw, curled up in the front yard, with leathery wings tucked under its body, a snoring iridescent purple dragon only slightly smaller than our house. Its scaly head was bigger than I was. My first instinct was to run back into the house and hide, but since that would most likely only end up creating more holes in the house, I set down the terrarium and nudged the thing with my Chuck-clad foot. (Not near the head! I'm not dumb.) "Hey! You're squishing our Halloween decorations!" Yeah, I know I told you I hated Halloween décor, but I was becoming embarrassingly sentimental.
(Tell no one!
Or else!
Remember, I have powers! Evil ones!)
The dragon lifted its enormous spikey head, opened its glittering green lizard eyes, and yawned. Its breath smelled like a slaughterhouse—of fresh meat and blood. My stomach growled. How long had it been since I'd eaten? Just the smoothie this morning? Then he slammed his tail against the lawn, sending clumps of dirt flying, and roared loud enough to wake the dead in Coffin Ridge's six nearest cemeteries. I waited for our nosy neighbors down the street to poke their heads out of doors and windows, or for Mrs. Sorenson to call the police, but nothing moved.
And by nothing, I meant nothing.
The air was still as death.
The clouds did not waft.
A squirrel clung to the trunk of a tree mid-climb.
A raven, about to take off, was perched like stone on a branch, its wings spread wide.
"What's going on?" I breathed. "Why are we the only things moving?"
Petronella rushed over. "What have you done, child? You've angered the dragon," Petronella said. "I specifically instructed you not to. Doryu, worry not, my friend. When we return to Brittlebane, you'll have an extra ox for supper." She turned to me, hands on hips. "Explain yourself!"
"I wanted to see what would happen. Kind of a science experiment," I said. "But why is everything frozen?"
She looked up at the petrified clouds as if praying for patience. My plan was already working! "It's the Witching Hour. The time when magic rules the earthly realm. How do you think we've kept magic a secret from humans for so long?"
I had to admit, this was pretty cool.
Think of all the fun I could have wreaking havoc upon my enemies while the rest of the world was in stasis. Writing "I'm stupid" on Miles' forehead with a permanent marker! Carving Mrs. Sorenson's hedges into lewd topiary! Chucking all the yoga equipment into a wood chipper. The possibilities were endless.
But my beautiful daydream was brutally interrupted when my legs left the ground, and I was dropped hard onto the dragon's back.
"Hey, that hurt," I said.
"Good," Petronella replied. "No more daydreaming." She floated gracefully onto the dragon's back, picking some thin silver reins.
"Wait, my dads!" I cried out. They were still on the lawn inside their terrarium, performing toad gymnastics.
"Oh, bother. Must I do everything?" The queen waved her arm, and the terrarium soared onto the dragon's back, where ropes appeared out of nowhere and lashed the terrarium to Doryu's body. Once it was secured, she faced forward, clucked twice, and the dragon leaped into the air, flapping its wings. The up and down motion made me so queasy; bile rose hot and acidic in my throat. The roaring howl of moving air made it hard to fully contemplate my misery.
I looked down; the ground where I felt so safe was already too far for me to jump without risking multiple fractures and contusions. Dragon flight wasn't nearly as fun as they made it out to be on TV. A movement along the peak of our roof caught my eye.
Calpurrnio! Oh, no. Would he be okay without us? We had to go back. What if Tyra kidnapped him again? What if no one bothered to pet his mangy fur? What if I never saw that book again?
But I doubted Petronella would reroute us, given her pedicure 'emergency,' and I didn't know the first thing about flying a dragon. Were there specific signals or words you could use to make them stop and start, like with horses? The evil queen had clucked as you do with a horse to get going.
(What? I had a few pony lessons as a kid.
That poor horse!
Don't ask. I mean it!)
Well, it couldn't hurt to try. (How many times were those someone's last words?)
"Whoa, nelly!" I screamed to be heard over the rushing wind.
Petronella's head spun, and she glared at me over her shoulder. Her face was bright red and blue lightning shot out of her fingers. "Did you just call me Nelly?" she snarled.
"Oh, crap!" was my last thought as a flash of lightning rushed toward my face.
Thanks so much for reading my story! This was honestly one of my favorite chapters to write, and I hope you have as much fun reading it! So many aspects of writing can be difficult and tortuous, but this is the kind of chapter that keeps us going (along with all your amazing comments!)
Before you head out, don't forget to vote! Remember, Rowen does have those evil powers. (Not that I'd ever allow her to unleash them on you, my treasured readers!)
Dedicating this chapter to an extremely talented and Van_Carley. I highly suggest you head over to her profile and read her stories of morally gray characters we fall in love with.