Something is chasing me.
Is this a dream or is it real? When you live in a fairy tale realm, it can be hard to know the difference.
My pursuer has such bad breath, I gag. There's a roar, and I look over my shoulder to see a massive dragon spitting a twenty-foot long torrent of blue flame in my direction. Riding atop the dragon is a one-armed, sword-wielding minion, his black curls twisting like smoke in the wind. He looks so angry, I swear there is also fire coming out of his eyes.
One of the biggest drawbacks of castle living was that just getting from one room to another was like embarking on a grueling expedition, somewhere treacherous and unpleasant—like scaling Mt. Everest in the winter or crossing the Sahara in summer, or navigating the hallways in Coffin Ridge High during any season.
If you ever find yourself in an evil castle, I suggest packing a bottle of water, a granola bar, and a map (if you can get your hands on a magical one that pinpoints the locations of the giant spiders or potential witch-nappers, that would be best), oh, and comfortable shoes. But if you can avoid the whole evil castle thing in the first place, that would totally be your best option.
But not all of us have options.
At least not good ones.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Now, where was I?
Oh, right, on my way to the spa where I'd be plucked, patted, primped, and pummeled into the shape of an evil queen.
I wished the spa workers luck with that.
The idea of me being shaped into anything other than a strange-looking evil teen from California was ridiculous.
I followed Olivia, my gown so soaked with stinky moat water it clung to my skin, making me feel like a plucked chicken in shrink-wrap. We trudged along a thousand torch-lit hallways, past shimmery ghosts and rusted suits of armor.
We slogged up a gagillion uneven stairs, ducking under, around, and sometimes through massive spiderwebs. We had one encounter with a fuzzy black spider the size of a small car. It snuck up behind me, and my heart leaped into my throat. I yelped, and Olivia spun around, bared her teeth at the monster, and, shockingly, it skittered away into the shadows.
"Stupid spiders," Olivia said, rolling her eyes and then continuing ahead as if I wasn't just threatened by an oversized killer arachnid. This made me wonder, were the giant spiders responsible for the disappearances? From the mind-boggling circumference of this one's mouth, it could probably gobble down a decent-sized witch in three bites.
"How did you scare it away?" I asked, hoping to benefit from her methods.
She giggled. "It's a gift. Like being good at math or magic."
"I'm good at math," I said.
"Well, I'm good at intimidating giant spiders."
"Why do we even have giant spiders?" I said, as my heart slowly receded into non-heart attack territory.
"Petronella gets them. She has a personal decorator on staff who says the spiders add to the ambiance, same with the rusty suits of armor and the rats and the ghosts."
"So, the castle looks this way on purpose? Like as a design statement?" I said, aghast.
Olivia just shrugged her shoulders and kept going. A thought flashed across my brain: that interior decorator should do a stint in the dungeon for at least five years. It would give him a chance to think about his behavior and come up with more original, less creepy designs in the future. Maybe Feng shui the place with some comfy sofas, bonsai, and Zen gardens.
Then I reminded myself that I wouldn't be here long enough to imprison anyone, and you know what? My heart sank a little bit at the loss.
Finally, the sinister stairs of agony ended. At the tippy top of the castle, we passed through an arched opening that led us onto a wide bailey so high up, I felt like if I stood on tiptoes, I could almost touch the moon.
But why would I stand on tiptoes? That would just make my sore calf muscles even sorer.
The wind whipped past, whining like a jet engine, making my teeth chatter. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying (and failing) to stop shivering. Olivia seemed barely affected by the wind like she was a hologram, and her actual body was in a different place. Her hair barely moved, and her dress fluttered alluringly like a model at a photo shoot, but I was pretty sure she was physically there and not a hologram because the moon cast an eerie orange glow over her blonde hair. We kept moving. Would it ever end?
Being sopping wet atop a gloomy, wind-torn castle roof was pretty low on my list of "Favorite Places Ever." Honestly, I'd rank it somewhere between falling off the roof of a skyscraper and being trapped inside an active volcano, although at least the volcano would be warm.
"Are weeeeee tttthhhheerrre yyyyetttt?" I chattered.
Olivia removed her totally non-holographic shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders. "You poor thing. Moat water is the absolute worst. We're almost there."
"Thaaaankkk yooouuu," I said, touched by the gesture, though it did little good.
Finally, we reached another archway at the opposite end of the bailey and approached a glass door with a sign that read "The Queen's Spa: Entry only by explicit permission of Her Highness. All trespassers will be fed to werewolves."
Geez! "Mom" really loved her threats.
As soon as Olivia pulled open the door, I smelled it.
Lavender.
Thick, cloying, nose-assaulting lavender.
I coughed into the sleeve of my gown.
"You okay?" Olivia said, her big round eyes full of concern.
"Lavender," I coughed.
"It is a bit much," Olivia agreed.
In a modern-looking reception area, an attractive minion with glossy black hair and a dimpled chin sat behind a long, curved glass desk in a white lab coat. He stared at what must've been a computer monitor, the logo of an apple overlaid with a skull and crossbones emblazoned on the opened lid. Poisoned Apple. That's what the Queen had called the Brittlebane computer system.
A spark of adrenaline ignited in my veins, and I might've even drooled a little. Wow, I missed computers. The feel of the plastic keys; the glare of the screen; the way my brain fizzed with anticipation with every line of code.
My fingertips itched to get a few minutes alone with the thing. Hack into the system. Find the spell to change back my dads, destroy the castle, and fly us to Coffin Ridge on my exclusive fleet of unicorns. My classmates would welcome me back as a superhero. I might even get a parade down Main Street. I could make a fortune selling unicorn rides!
But instead of my dream coming true, the minion snapped the cover closed and smiled at us. "Do you have an appointment?"
"Cut it out, Julius. You know she's expected," Olivia said. "Rowen, meet Julius, Spa Manager. If you get on his good side; he can always squeeze you in. Julius, meet Rowen, future evil queen. Get on her good side, otherwise, in a month she can exile you to the dungeon for all eternity or feed you to werewolves or both."
"I wouldn't ..." I began, but Olivia shook her head furiously.
"Rowen, threats are an important leadership tool," she said.
"But, I ..." Olivia held up a finger to silence me.
I pivoted my introductory tactic.
"Nice to meet you, Julius."
Olivia glared at me, rolled her eyes, and shook her head.
Another pivot ...
"I meant to say, Julius, do not fail me, or I will have you hanged, beheaded, and then command that attractive head of yours put up on a spike in the herb garden as an example for others not to displease me!" I'd just done a unit in class about medieval torture, and this was what came into my head. (Look, I don't have a lot of experience with torture, so I went with the experts—European monarchs from the Middle Ages till the late eighteenth century.)
Olivia smiled. Well, someone was a fan of my vast knowledge of medieval politics! "What a fast learner you are!" And then she gave me a hug, which made a lump grow in my throat. I missed hugs, but don't tell anyone, or I will torture you in a gruesome manner to be determined!)
At first, Julius's skin turned the color of whipped cream on a vanilla marshmallow sundae. Then he cracked a wide, white-toothed grin. "You think I'm attractive?"
"Typical man!" Olivia said. She had a point! Julius blushed, his skin now the color of a maraschino cherry. "We're wasting time. Can't you see our future queen is half frozen?"
Julius cleared his throat. "Yes. Of course." He opened the laptop again. I tried to peer over the top at the screen, but he angled it down so I couldn't see. "You're scheduled for our Complete Cauldron Cleanse, then a deep tissue massage with Elgar, then two hours of hot yoga, followed by a total makeover."
"No yoga." How vexing! Yoga followed me everywhere, even into another realm.
Julius, whose skin tone no longer resembled dessert, wrinkled his brow in a "this does not compute" expression. "Yoga is very relaxing. And the heat gets rid of toxins, though I don't understand why you'd want to rid your body of toxins. Aren't they the best part?"
"No yoga," I repeated, clenching my teeth.
"It's part of the Evil Queen Preparation Program, I'm afraid," Julius said. "Not optional."
I turned toward Olivia. "Where do we store the head spikes, Olivia?"
Julius frantically clicked the computer keys. "Oh, look, yoga class has been canceled today."
"Thought so," I said.
"Is there another treatment you'd like instead? Here's the spa menu."
He handed me a parchment rolled over a gold spindle, very sharp at the tip. I unrolled it and read: Wart-be-gone Facial. Python Body Wrap. Dragon Breath Skin Exfoliator. And many more. But one treatment caught my eye. The Prickly Pear Pedicure with Potion Polish. That was exactly what I needed! (For reasons you can probably guess!) I suppressed a cackle at my evil plan. "I'll have the pedicure."
Julius sighed, obviously about to reject my request, and probably worried about what that would mean in terms of his head and spikes and his head on spikes. "Unfortunately, we're training someone new, and he accidentally cut off someone's toes earlier. Said the nails were beyond redemption, and it would be better to grow out a fresh set. I explained witches can't grow back body parts that easily. May I offer you the manicure instead?"
"It seems to me this is a shoddy operation," I barked. "I ask for something that is clearly listed on your menu, and yet I am thwarted. I'm thinking that someone around here isn't doing a good job managing the place and that displeases me."
Julius looked at Olivia. "She does learn fast."
Oliva grinned. "I'm so proud."
I couldn't help it. I blushed with pride.
Julius madly typed something into his computer. "I suppose I could try to do the pedicure myself, but I am not that good with callous removal."
"I want the original pedicurist. Only the best for your future queen!"
"But he's in the dungeon."
"That's your problem, not mine. I will expect him to be here. Or else!" Magic zipped out of my fingertips and toasted his laptop. Ooops! "Sorry?" It's one thing to fry a person, but I'd never deliberately injure a computer!
"Happens all the time," Julius sighed. "Now, if you'll both change into your bathing suits and robes, I'll have lunch brought to you while you cleanse."
Fifteen minutes later, Olivia and I were in the ugliest, frilliest bathing suits I'd ever seen—white and covered in ruffles—boiling inside a cauldron with flower petals, herbs, spices, and something else that looked suspiciously like eyeballs floating in the bubbles. It struck me that Olivia and I, stewing in a bubbling brew of herbs, spices, and eyeballs, looked like the main course in a cannibal feast. Still, after the filthy freezing moat water, the hot water in the tub began to relax my muscles.
"So, no luck with finding your familiar?" Olivia said.
I hated to lie to her, because she was the closest thing I had to a friend, but I was too embarrassed to tell her. If she knew I'd been chosen by a rat, I would lose the only friend I had in the castle. "No," I said. "Very disappointing. Do you have a familiar?"
Olivia flicked away an eyeball bobbing nearby, sending it arcing over the side where it landed on the stone floor with a horrible squelch. "Only witches with magical powers have them."
"I'm sorry. That must be hard."
"It's the worst. But I have plans for my future. It'll get better."
"At least you're not sitting around waiting to fulfill your destiny. You're making it happen. How long have you lived here?"
"My whole life."
"Wow, do you know who your parents are?"
"I have an idea, but ..."
"But what?"
"It's complicated."
"I get that. I'm complicated too."
"Gruunnnttt," grunted a deep voice behind me.
I practically leaped out of the spa like a sea serpent, heart racing.
Olivia splashed the intruder. "Don't sneak up on people, Luther. It's creepy." I turned around to see an old, shriveled bald man in monk garb, his skin so pale you could see through it to the highway of veins inside his skull. He grinned, revealing sharp pointy teeth as he gripped two golden chalices, his blackened fingernails wrapped around the goblets. "He's the oldest minion," Olivia whispered in my ear. "Predates even Petronella. Word is he spent way too long in solitary."
"Geesh. Poor guy."
"Oh, no. Don't feel sorry for him. He deserved it."
"Why?"
"He barbequed Petronella's familiar and ate it. Now he works at the spa smoothie bar. Say what you want about him, but the guy can blend!"
But what did he blend?
As much as I hated fruit and vegetable smoothies, I would hate animal smoothies even more. "Uh, what's in it?" I said.
"Bliss Bombs. Don't worry. They're delicious."
Not if you'd had a smoothie every day for sixteen years!
My stomach twisted, and bile rose in my throat. My dads had been suppressing me all my life with their smoothies. Would I ever trust macerated fruit again?
Luther set our drinks down on the wide rim of the cauldron, bowed, grunted, and left.
Olivia lifted hers up and drank. I glared at mine, wondering if there was a spell to turn a smoothie into pizza.
"Mmmmm," Olivia said. "So good. I haven't had one in ages."
"Why not?"
"They're only for the VIPs. Aren't you going to have yours?" she said, slurping down the last of hers.
"No, you go ahead. I've had enough smoothies in my life to last me for eternity."
"Well, if you're sure," she said, but she was already drinking before she finished the sentence. Once she finished, she sighed.
"When I'm queen, you can have Bliss Bombs whenever you want," I said magnanimously.
"Well, aren't you just the sweetest," she said. "By the way, very impressive coming up with a scheme to spring Blade from the dungeon."
"Do you think it will work?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Who Julius is more afraid of. You or Petronella."
Well, that wasn't a hard choice. Petronella was way worse than me. Still, I wouldn't give up hope.
A little bell chimed. "Time for our treatments," Olivia said.
"Good thing too. My fingers are so shriveled, I am going to look like an old crone sooner rather than later."
Olivia laughed. "I think you're right," she agreed. Naturally, her fingers weren't the least bit shriveled.
I slept through the massage, and it was the deepest sleep I've had since I found out who I was and what they expected me to become. To say I was jealous of Olivia forging her own path was an understatement. No one was trying to turn her into someone she didn't want to be. Once I rescued my dads and returned home, I vowed to follow in Olivia's footsteps. No one would tell me what to do with my life, and if anyone tried, I'd throw them into the dungeon.
Oh, wait, I didn't have a dungeon in Coffin Ridge.
But I could build one!
"All done," Elgar the minion masseur said in a low, relaxing tone. "There's a robe hanging on the hook. Take your time."
"Thanks," I said, a puddle of drool pooling on the pillow.
My skin was slick with rose oil, as I oozed off the massage table like melted wax. I donned a fluffy white robe with my name embroidered over the pocket. The robe was warm as if it came straight from the dryer. I opened the door, and Elgar was waiting in the dimly lit hall with a glass of water. "All good?"
"Very," I said, taking the water and downing it in one gulp.
"Time for your makeover, then," he said.
The makeover. Ugh! Some people were beyond hope. How did they not see this?
"I think I'd like that pedicure first," I said.
Elgar took a few steps away from me and winced. "The spa no longer offers that service. Julius's orders, not mine, Your ... uh ... Royal Highness."
"Tell Julius I AM NOT HAPPY!"
"I'll let him know."
Elgar escorted me to a bright room with mirrors on every wall. A crew of gorgeous minions cooed over me as they led me to a swivel chair dancing to an upbeat and catchy tune playing over invisible loudspeakers. It was like I had my own makeover soundtrack and squad of doting stylists getting me ready for the Oscars. This was way better than being the outcast in high school, ignored by all the cute boys.
"Where's Olivia?" I said.
"I'm here," she said, floating in, wrapped in her fluffy robe, looking like the "After" photo in a makeover. She sat in the other chair.
The minions slathered a raspberry-scented cream all over my face, hands, and feet, then placed cucumbers over my eyes, so I couldn't see a thing, though I felt my hair being washed, the nip nip nip of scissors, and the blow dryer. What they thought they were going to accomplish with my wild hair that had its own agenda, I had no clue, but I wasn't being chased, threatened, or splashed with foul water, so I made do.
A computer geek like me is averse to exercise in all forms, and I'd had enough of it in the last couple of days for a century.
The cream prickled on my skin. It must've been some kind of exfoliant, but despite the mild discomfort, I fell asleep again from sheer exhaustion.
I woke suddenly to screaming, my heart pounding, sending hot magic frizzling through my veins. The minions were screaming. Olivia was also screaming. I looked in the mirror and screamed.
Power gathered hot and electric in my fingers, jetting out of my fingertips. My magic caromed off from one mirror to another, and they cracked and shattered. Bottles of potions, combs, hair dryers and curlers whorled into a salon cyclone. The minions and Olivia ducked under counters, but soon my magic burst out of me in such powerful waves of blue lightning, the counters, along with the floor, walls, and ceiling, disintegrated. Fortunately, I hadn't disintegrated any people, but now we were all outside, standing atop a pile of rubble, the wind whipping past, the full moon illuminating my handiwork.
"Wow," Olivia said, her voice small as if she didn't want to disrupt my tantrum.
I stood there breathing hard, admiring the level of destruction, yet I felt empty and unsatisfied. Don't get me wrong, it felt amazing to destroy the spa, but I wanted more. My magic wanted more. It called to me, begged me, it would not be satisfied until I took down the entire castle!
Magic churned in my belly. The debris beneath my bare feet rose into the air, swirling like wayward planets. I gritted my teeth. Puffed out my cheeks. Preparing to vault the mass of destruction at the castle walls when everything stopped. The loose bits of what had been the queen's spa hung suspended in the air, then crashed back down. I howled in frustration. Something had jammed my powers!
I looked up.
A shadow flew across the moon. Petronella on a broom. She swept in and landed a few feet in front of me. "What have you done to my spa?" She roared. Then she took one look at my face and screamed.
Sorry, this chapter was late! I had too many margaritas in Mexico last week and had terrible internet. When I write, I'm constantly looking things up, and without internet, I'm missing an important tool. But here it is at last! I hope you enjoyed the read. I love the idea of a spa for evil queens. Evil queening is a lot of work, and terribly hard on the body.
Anyone wondering what happened to Rowen's face? Let me know what you think.
All votes and comments highly appreciated!
This chapter is hereby officially dedicated to neverfakeit! We have been friends for a number of years, and I got to meet her in human person at Wattcon where we shared pancakes one morning! She is a very talented author, a Wattpad ambassador, and one of the active members and leaders of writersconnx. She has always been so supportive of my work and helped me with edits for Prince Charming Must Die, in case I ever query. Head on over to her profile and check out her outstanding work. You'll be so happy you did!