"Never share your innermost secrets with a pet, even if you think they're discreet."—Rowen Keckilpenny Brown
"How silly! Pets cannot talk."—Blade
"Very funny!"—Rowen Keckilpenny Brown
I wrenched my sword from the loop (Which was, in retrospect, super dumb. Only an idiot would think a sword was the proper weapon to fight off a plummeting cage!)
"Minions! Seize the traitor!" Came Olivia's voice from somewhere behind the orcs, korks, gnomes, fairies, giants, dragons, unicorns, etc.
A brace of minions raced ahead. I had to stop them, and knew my one sword was no match for them. Wait! A spell! And I knew just the one. I flipped into a headstand and shouted: "Calceus ligare!" three times. The shoelaces on the minion's boots came untied and then retied themselves to the other minion's boots! It was a spectacular pileup of brawny men, like something you'd see at a football game.
A split second before the cage would've ensnared me, something shoved me from behind while I was still doing a handstand, and I fell backward, hitting the back of my head on the marble ballroom floor. My head exploded in pain as the sword flew from my grasp. I slid six feet across the slick marble surface, breathing hard, stars rocketing across my vision.
I lay there on the cold marble, slightly stunned, the room spinning as I squinted at the bright chandeliers. The full moon hovered outside the tall stained-glass windows, winking at me from behind a floating bank of black clouds, like the moon was having a good laugh at my predicament. Then there were all the varied eyes looking down at me from a veritable Noah's Ark of supernatural beings. And they also smelled like a Noah's Ark of supernatural beings—dirt, grass, fire, apples, salt, fish, leather, thunderstorms, and snow.
There were the usual suspects—dragons, fairies, gnomes, giants, demons, witches, wizards, unicorns, and merfolk, but some others were total surprises—small brown things that were almost like sentient mushrooms and robed beings with long eye stalks that looked like interdimensional space merchants who lost on their way to a cosmic flea market. So, these were going to be my royal subjects? I mean, if I thwarted my evil sister.
The room stopped spinning.
Clang. Clang. Clang. Came the sound of metal striking metal.
I slowly turned my head toward the source of the racket, only to discover my favorite minion of massive annoyance in the cage, sword-fighting with the bars. And the bars were winning because, as everyone knows, a sword is the wrong tool to use in these circumstances! So, Blade was the one who pushed me out of the way. How many times had I told him to stop rescuing me? Once this battle with Sis was over, I had to get him into therapy for his stupid Savior Syndrome.
"Why did you do that?" I yelled at him.
He stopped slashing and shrugged. "Chivalry?".
"Not that again," I said.
"Afraid so," he croaked.
"Blade, are you okay?"
But before he could answer, sparkly crystal stilettos stepped beside my head. I looked up. The owner of the shoes glared down at me. "Are you two done having your little lover's spat? Because I have an oath to take right after I clean up ..." she waved her hand over me as if I was a pile of garbage ... "this loose end."
"Olivia!" I spat. "I am not a loose end."
She smiled sweetly. "Soon, you won't be anything. You could've been the first statue in my new sculpture garden. Such an honor, really. But alas, now you'll be worm food. Also, what are you wearing? A shrink-wrapped garbage bag?"
Blade dropped to the floor and lay on his side in a fetal position; his face twisted in agony. "Leave her alone!" he rasped. But why would he be in pain? This effect couldn't be an ordinary magical cage falling from the ceiling of a ballroom. It had to be an evil magical cage that fell from the top of a ballroom.
Olivia stamped her crystal stilettoed foot. A crystal came loose, pinging on the floor and rolling away. "Why is he still speaking? I thought that cage was ensorcelled with the Babble Ban Enchantment. Unacceptable! Now I must listen to his cries while I'm killing him?" Olivia said. "How tedious."
Tyra reeled back a few feet, partially hiding behind an attractive fairy dude. Instead of shielding her, he fluttered his wings and floated to the ceiling. "I might've made an error in the magical calculations for the spell," Tyra mumbled.
"You cannot get good fairy-henchwomen these days," Olivia sighed. "But it will sap him of his life energy, right?"
"From the looks of it, it's already working."
Finally, fully recovered from my fall, I leaped up and rushed to the cage. "Blade!"
His face was pale, and that adorable lock of hair hung limply over his sweaty forehead. Bile rose in my throat, and magic gathered in my fingertips. The lightning bolts buzzed so intensely it was like sticking my fingers in a light socket.
I spun to face Olivia. "Let. Him. Go!" I demanded through clenched teeth.
Olivia cackled like a witch, which technically she was, so maybe this was a stupid simile. "I don't think so, sis. And let this be a lesson to all of you," Olivia said, her voice magnified over the massive room, which was the size of four high school gyms. "I will turn anyone who defies me into a statue. Unlike our previous queen, who had a soft heart and allowed people to deteriorate in the dungeon for centuries, I will eliminate all persons, creatures, or any combination thereof, at the first whiff of betrayal. This is why I'm about to dedicate my new sculpture garden. Kind of brilliant if you ask me. This way, your stony corpses will remind all my subjects that while I may not be tolerant, I am a patron of the arts!"
The crowd whispered and gasped in at least twelve languages, but no one moved against her. It was so confusing. If they ganged up on Olivia, she'd be worm food. Or a toad. Or a candlestick. Maybe they worried that if they didn't quell her when Olivia became queen, she'd cut off their supply of magic.
This is when things went from just plain weird to 'giant cats reciting Shakespearean sonnets while juggling anchovies' level weird.
Because instead of turning Olivia into something useful, like the aforementioned candlestick, they bowed.
"Are you guys serious?" I said, incredulous, holding out my arms, palms facing up. "You're bowing? To someone who has just threatened to turn you into statues?"
The "people" looked at one another, shrugged, and said, "Pretty much, yeah," in multiple languages. I assume that's what they were saying from their blank expressions and lack of candlestick enchantments. "That's how it's always been," said one of the mushroom creatures. "At least we'll have our magic." Sure, the mushroom guy spoke English!
Behind me came a long, pitiful moan, reminding me I was totally wasting my time. I not only had a minion to rescue, I had my dads to worry about, and I needed to work on taking down my sibling.
Starting with the rapidly declining minion, I zapped the bars of the cage, blue lightning zipping out of my fingertips like Emperor Palpatine blasting away at Luke. But instead of the bars kindly melting or disintegrating, they held firm, and the lightning? It reversed course and hit me in the gut. I'd never played sports (as you know), but my stomach writhed in pain, and the wind got knocked out of me like an entire football team had tackled me. Or I'd been kicked by an angry unicorn. Or maybe like I'd battled a Mack truck and lost. Badly. It smelled like burning flesh, which was totally nauseating, given that it was probably my flesh. Once again, I fell, but this time, I was lying on the floor, ears ringing, dizzy, and disgusted with myself.
"At least the Hex Rebounder spell works," Tyra said.
Olivia nodded her golden head in agreement. "Oh, yes. It worked perfectly. But don't think I'm not still disappointed about the faulty Babble Ban Enchantment," Olivia snarked.
"I'll have the gnomes who gave me the spell immediately turned into garden ... um ... gnomes for your new statue garden," Tyra said.
Olivia shook her head. "Enough! Let's move on with the agenda. Minions, bring me the terrarium with the toads. I want Rowen's last sight to be her fathers' destruction. Then I'll end her and take my oath."
I'd failed! Totally and utterly. I was a lump of goo on the ballroom floor, Blade was slowly having the life sucked out of him, my dads would die, and everyone I cared about, Vermeil, Lubris, Frekvic, the unicorns, merfolk, would all end up as statuary. That probably wouldn't be such a big deal for Lubris, but the others wouldn't enjoy it. Where was Vermeil anyway? What a time for my familiar to go AWOL.
Tears prickled from my eyes and then streamed down my cheeks. I tried to speak, but it was as if my jaw was magically wired shut. Maybe they'd used the Babble Ban Enchantment on me. Now I could never tell my dads how sorry I was for letting Petronella into the house and how much I appreciated their love and kindness. Blade moaned again. Poor Blade. I wished I could at least apologize for getting him into this mess. And maybe for all the times I teased him about his male pride. Now he'd never know how I truly felt about him. I looked at him, trying to convey all this with my eyes. He caught my gaze. Managed a faint smile.
And then ...
Armor came crashing to the floor.
The surrounding air shimmered, and Blade disappeared.
Not really disappeared.
He shrunk.
And grew a tail. And whiskers. And fur.
Wait, Blade was a shapeshifter?
But not just any shapeshifter.
Blade was a cat?
A three-legged cat?
Blade had turned into Cal!
I would've fainted if I weren't already lying on the floor. My whole life flashed before me as I remembered a million times I'd told Cal my secrets and insecurities when I got my period!!! No, this had to be another three-legged cat.
Tail thrashing, the cat leaped through the bars of the cage, hissing. The air around him shimmered, and he changed again into Blade. My stomach sank, and I wanted to die from embarrassment.
Blade was Cal. Cal was Blade.
My brain exploded.
Olivia spun just in time to see Blade reach back into the cage and scoop up his sword. She raced toward my sword, grabbed it, and pointed it at my cat. I mean my minion. I mean Blade. "Prepare to die," she said. What? Were we in The Princess Bride now?
"I've been practicing swordsmanship for years," Blade said, looking dangerous and super-hot.
"I have magic," she replied with an evil smile. Then she began rattling off the most prolonged spell I'd ever heard. At first, Blade looked concerned she might turn him into a candlestick or whatever, but as this went on, he just shook his head and thrust his sword into her heart.
My heart stopped. In a good way. I mean, this was way easier than I thought it would be.
But then I noticed something was really wrong with the situation.
Essentially, the issue was that there was no blood.
Not that I loved blood, but I'd seen enough Lord of the Rings movies to know this where the blood oozed out of the wound and probably also out of the mouth for some reason. It should definitely be coating her gown and dripping on the floor.
But instead of all that, Olivia grinned.
Then she grabbed the sword's hilt and yanked it out of her chest. The blade was blood-free, and the gash closed when she removed the sword. Terrific! I was immobile from the hex rebounder, and my opponent was possibly immortal. Lucky me!
"It's wonderful to have magic at last," Olivia breathed, flipping Blade's sword in the air and catching it by the hilt. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Prepare to die."
The magic inside me buzzed, surging into my muscles, blood, and heart, filling me with strength and power.
The magic!
It had chosen me once.
Perhaps it would do so again.
I stood, magic zipping along my fingertips.
Everyone stepped back, probably thinking I was about to unleash some deadly magical lightning bolts. But that wasn't my plan.
Instead, I stood there as Olivia screwed up her beautiful face in concentration, grunted, and zapped me with all her might. Long lines of blue energy came at me, hard, but I welcomed what was really Petronella's magic. I took it into my body, where it joined with my magic, fitting together like a puzzle. And I could feel the presence of the old queen, grateful that her magic was home.
"Die!" Olivia snarled, increasing her efforts. "I am the true queen!"
But I absorbed it all no matter how much magic she hurled at me. "You are not the heir," I said. "The magic chose me for a reason."
I grew stronger and stronger as Olivia grew weaker. When she realized what was happening, she collapsed onto the floor. I knelt beside her, holding her in my arms, as the last of the magic abandoned her, and she lost consciousness.
And there you have it! Rowen has defeated her foe. Did it happen as you thought it would?
All that's left is the denouement. There will be kissing! I know I opened a lot of threads in the story, and I'm hoping to close them all in the final chapter. If there's anything you're wondering about, let me know in the comments so I can try to address them in this draft.
Thanks again for reading, voting, commenting, and making this process so much more fun!