A Tale of Sorcery... Page 3

  “Nice one!” Brystal told Lucy.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I did the same thing to escape a distillery once, but that’s a story for another time! Let’s get out of here!”

  Brystal and Lucy raced down the aisle, leaping over the bookcases and the clansmen trapped beneath them. Unfortunately, Lucy’s ripple was much more powerful than she intended. As she and Brystal hurried into the next aisle, the bookcases began crashing down all around them!

  “Lucy, make it stop!” Brystal said.

  “You know I can’t stop anything I start!” Lucy said. “My magic is like eating junk food!”

  Without time to think, the only thing the girls could do was run while the falling bookcases chased them through the third floor like a giant game of dominoes! As they reached the stairs, bookcases began toppling over the railings. The cases crashed into the lower levels, trigging similar domino effects across all the aisles in the library. By the time Brystal and Lucy reached the ground floor every bookcase in the library had been knocked over.

  Lucy let out a nervous laugh as she eyed the wreckage. “I bet you’re glad you aren’t the maid anymore,” she said.

  The girls dashed to the exit, but as soon as they reached the double doors, they came to an abrupt halt—the library was surrounded by the Army of the Dead! Brystal and Lucy were trapped! Once the girls were spotted, the dead soldiers charged inside.

  “Gosh, these guys are like cockroaches! They just keep coming and coming!” Lucy said. “How are we going to get past them?”

  Brystal glanced around the library, looking for a quick escape, and her eyes landed on the glass dome in the ceiling.

  “Quick! Hold on to my waist!” she said.

  “Why?” Lucy asked.

  “It’s my turn to improvise!”

  Lucy wrapped her arms around Brystal’s waist as tightly as she could. Brystal raised her hand toward the ceiling and a bright light blasted from the tip of her wand. The light engulfed Brystal and Lucy and, suddenly, they shot through the dome like a shooting star. The dome shattered and glass rained down on the skeleton soldiers.

  On the third floor, the High Commander and the Righteous Brotherhood began to crawl out from underneath the heavy bookcases. Once they were free, the clansmen raced to the emperor and helped push the bookcase off his body.

  “My lord, are you hurt?” the High Commander asked.

  “I’m fine!” the emperor said as he got to his feet. “Where is the Fairy Godmother?”

  “She and her accomplice escaped the library, sir.”

  “They WHAT?!”

  The news sent the emperor into a furious rage. He grabbed the High Commander by the shoulders and pushed him through the nearest window.

  “The High Commander has been dismissed!” Seven said, and then pointed to the nearest clansman. “You! You’re the new High Commander! Disappoint me and you’ll suffer the same fate! Is that understood?”

  The clansman’s eyes grew wide under his silver mask and he dived into a quick bow.

  “I’m at your service, my lord,” he said with a nervous quiver in his voice.

  “Good,” Seven said. “Now, the Fairy Godmother is up to something—I can feel it in my bones! We have to figure out what she’s planning!”

  “What was she doing in the library, sir?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Seven snapped. “She was looking for a book.”

  “But what sort of book, sir?”

  The emperor gazed through the broken window as if he might find the answer in the desolate town square, but nothing came to him.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But whatever it is, we need to find it before she does.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE COUNTDOWN

  Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…

  Brystal always resented the sound of a ticking clock. Whether she was counting down the hours before she could escape the School for Future Wives and Mothers, or counting down the minutes she had left to secretly read books in the Chariot Hills Library, Brystal didn’t think a clock could sound any more ominous than it already did. But she was dead wrong.

  Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…

  Brystal glanced down at the silver pocket watch attached to her waist. To someone else, the watch would have shown it was a few minutes before noon. And to someone else, the watch’s soft ticking would have barely been noticeable. But to Brystal, the gentle gears were deafening. Her watch wasn’t counting down the hours of her day—it was counting down the days of her life.

  Two weeks…

  That’s all you have left…

  To locate the ancient spell book…

  To destroy the Immortal…

  And you still haven’t found either of them yet.

  Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…

  You’re no closer now than you were a year ago.…

  You have to accept the truth.…

  You’re out of time.…

  In thirteen days…

  You will die.

  The curse on Brystal’s mind rarely surfaced these days. She had become so good at ignoring the disturbing thoughts that she barely noticed them anymore. Even when they occasionally got her attention, Brystal loved putting them in their place. For her, the disturbing thoughts were no longer a powerful curse—they were an old friend she enjoyed arguing with.

  You may be right…, she thought.

  But who isn’t on borrowed time?

  Whose days aren’t numbered?

  Knowing when my life ends means I can make the most of the time I have left…

  And I’m not going to waste a second of it.

  Brystal clicked the watch shut and tucked it into the pocket of her pantsuit. She was standing at the windows of her office in the Academy of Magic, taking in the view of the rolling green hills, the sparkling blue ocean, and the shimmering golden castle around her. Brystal made a point to admire the Fairy Territory whenever she could, knowing each opportunity might be her last. However, she didn’t let herself linger for long—death or no death, she had a lot of work to do.

  Thankfully, Brystal didn’t bear the burden of finding the ancient spell book and the Immortal alone. For the first time, instead of sparing her friends from the truth, Brystal had confided in them. They knew all about her deal with Death, they knew Brystal only had one year to find the Immortal and destroy her with an ancient spell book, or her life would end. And before Brystal could even ask for her friends’ help, they went straight to work.

  Over the past eleven months and two weeks, Brystal’s office had turned into the center of a thorough investigation. The fairies covered every surface of the glass furniture with stacks of maps and address books of every known library, bookstore, and book collector in the world. While they worked tirelessly on locating the ancient spell book, the witches worked diligently on identifying the Immortal. All the walls in the office were filled with birth certificates, death certificates, and portraits of very, very old ladies.

  After Brystal and Lucy’s trip to the Chariot Hills Library, all the libraries had officially been searched, so the fairies focused their efforts on contacting bookstores and renowned book collectors. The fairies wrote under pseudonyms to keep the mission a secret, asking the sellers and collectors about any older publications they might have in their possession. Each morning, Horence the knight heaved a heavy sack of mail into the office and the fairies dug through the letters, hoping for a positive lead.

  “I just got a letter from the Book Worm Bookshop in Tinzel Heights!” Emerelda announced. “I guess the bookstore closed a while ago and was turned into a coffee shop. Dang, that’s the fourth one this month. They say they donated their books to their local orphanage but none of them were older than a decade or two.”

  “The book collector from Fort Longsworth finally wrote me back!” Tangerina said. “Mr. Gibbinson says he would be happy to show us his collection of old textbooks and his collection of taxidermy raccoons. The second part is a little concerning, but the
first part is promising!”

  “I have an update from the Eastern Kingdom!” Xanthous said. “The Page Turner Bookstore in Ironhand says they specialize in antique books from all over the globe. They even have a few titles dating back to the reign of King Champion I! We should go and check it out!”

  Along with the mail, every morning Horence also delivered a stack of newspapers from various cities around the world. The witches scanned through the obituaries to help them eliminate potential Immortal suspects.

  “Another one bites the dust!” Lucy proclaimed. “Faradean Fairtucket officially kicked the bucket last week at one hundred and twelve years old. She is survived by four children, fifteen grandchildren, and seven much younger ex-husbands—well, way to go, Faradean! Her last words were ‘Oh, there you are, God. I thought you forgot about me.’”

  “I have some sad news, too,” Pip said. “Ester Esterwig passed away at the age of one hundred and three. She was laid to rest yesterday in the Tinzel Heights Forever Cemetery. It says she died peacefully in her husband’s sleep—apparently Ester was an insomniac. Dang it, I was really hoping she’d be the one.”

  “Looks like Windella Parkweed is no longer with us either,” Sprout said. “She passed just days before her one hundred and fifth birthday. Windella is survived by her beloved felines Mayor Whiskers, Purr Baby, Snow Mittens, Doctor Hairball, Angel Toes, and Grumpy Puss II. Her cause of death is still unknown because the cats ate her corpse.”

  “Awesome,” Stitches said with a wide grin. “Mind if I hang on to that one?”

  Stitches cut the obituary out of the newspaper and pasted it into a scrapbook she kept of gruesome obituaries. While Stitches saved the clipping, Beebee flew around the office and drew a big red X on the portraits that belonged to Faradean Fairtucket, Ester Esterwig, and Windella Parkweed.

  “We’re r-r-running out of centenarian s-s-suspects,” Beebee said.

  “Alleged centenarians,” Stitches said. “I keep telling you guys, it doesn’t matter what the newspapers say, these obituaries could be fake! The only way we’ll know for sure is if we dig these women up and make sure they’re actually dead!”

  Pip gulped and raised her hand. “Brystal, can I be reassigned to the ancient spell book? The Immortal investigation is taking a turn.”

  “I hate to validate her, but Stitches has a point,” Emerelda said. “Who knows how many times the Immortal has had to fake her death to avoid suspicion? If we’re going to track her down, we’ll have to think outside of the box. It’s not like the oldest woman in the world is just going to walk through the door.”

  Suddenly, the office doors swung open and Mrs. Vee stepped inside.

  “Hello, hello, hello!” the bubbly housekeeper sang. “I thought you might be hungry so I whipped you up some boysenberry soufflé! You aren’t going to believe this, but one of the prisoners you rescued from the Righteous Empire yesterday is an award-winning pastry chef! How lucky is that? We’ve been exchanging recipes all morning. Stitches, Sprout, and Beebee, per your dietary requests, I sprinkled some spider legs in your soufflés to remind you of home. But that’s not the first time I’ve put a bug in someone’s food! HA-HA!”

  Skylene’s eyes grew wide and she pointed an accusatory finger at the housekeeper.

  “Oh my God! Mrs. Vee is the Immortal!” she declared. “Why didn’t we think of this sooner?! She’s the oldest person we know! Even her jokes are ancient!”

  Mrs. Vee rolled her eyes and set the tray of boysenberry soufflés on the tea table.

  “Once again, Skylene, I’m humbled by your high opinion of me,” the housekeeper said. “If I was the Immortal do you think I would look like this?”

  “What do you mean, Mrs. Vee?” Tangerina asked.

  “I imagine the best part of being Immortal is that you don’t age,” she explained. “Otherwise, why would anyone want to live forever? I wouldn’t want to spend eternity getting older and older, and weaker and weaker. I don’t even like raisins in salad, I certainly wouldn’t want one in a mirror! HA-HA!”

  The fairies and witches froze and looked to one another with collective dread.

  “Of course!” Pip said, and anxiously tugged on her ears. “This whole time we’ve been looking for an old woman! But the Immortal could be any age! That means she could be anybody!”

  “That’s like f-f-finding a needle in a m-m-mountain of hay!” Beebee said. “How are w-w-we supposed to track her d-d-down?”

  “Everybody relax!” Stitches said. “There’s a very simple solution to this. We’ll just have to dig up every woman who’s ever lived. I’m more than happy to lead the charge.”

  The fairies and witches moped around the office, moaning and groaning despairingly. Strangely, the one person the revelation affected the most seemed affected the least. Brystal remained surprisingly calm, as if the development was as trivial as a weather forecast.

  “We’ll just have to expand the search, that’s all,” she said with a shrug. “Now let’s get back to the ancient spell book. Tangerina, I want you and Skylene to visit the book collector in Fort Longsworth as soon as possible. Bring back anything that resembles what we’re looking for. And Xanthous, I want you and Emerelda to go to the Eastern Kingdom straightaway and check out the Page Turner Bookstore. Make sure you all dress as civilians and hide your magic—we don’t want word getting out that the Fairy Council is looking for an ancient book.”

  Emerelda crossed her arms and gave Brystal a stern look, like she was reading her mind—and to Brystal’s dismay, Emerelda usually could.

  “Is it just my imagination, or are you more interested in finding the ancient spell book than the Immortal?” Emerelda asked.

  Brystal sighed. “At this point, I think finding the book is a better use of our time.”

  “But we need both of them to save you from Death,” Emerelda said. “I hope your curse isn’t trying to confuse you.”

  “This isn’t the curse talking, I promise,” she said. “I only have two weeks left to live and I want to be as productive and practical as possible. Finding the Immortal will only save me, but finding the ancient spell book will save the entire world. Whatever spell is powerful enough to destroy the Immortal is also powerful enough to destroy the Army of the Dead—it would put an end to Seven and the Righteous Brotherhood’s reign of terror once and for all! I’ll die much happier knowing you have the tools to finally defeat them.”

  “That’s very noble of you, but like you said, we still have two whole weeks,” Emerelda said. “Even if our chances of finding the Immortal are slim, we still have to try our best, otherwise we’ll always regret not doing more to save you.”

  The fairies and the witches nodded along with Emerelda’s remarks. Brystal was touched by their devotion.

  “All right then,” she said. “I won’t give up just yet.”

  Lucy cleared her throat. “Can I throw my two cents into this tip jar? If you’re looking for something practical and productive to do with your time, there’s a very practical and very productive source of information we still haven’t consulted yet,” she said, raising her eyebrows impatiently. “If anyone knows how to find the Immortal or the ancient spell book, it’s going to be Madame Weatherberry.”

  Brystal took a deep breath and looked to the floor. “I know, I know,” she said. “It’s just… asking her for help means I have to tell her the truth about everything. And she was so happy to hear about the legalization of magic—I can’t imagine how helpless she’ll feel knowing about the Army of the Dead and my deal with Death. It seems cruel to trouble her.”

  Lucy placed her hands on her hips. “Brystal, the woman is frozen in a block of ice in the middle of nowhere. She’s not exactly living the good life.”

  Brystal turned to the enchanted globe beside her desk and gazed at the twinkling lights above the Northern Mountains. Unbeknownst to the others, Brystal had a very specific reason for not seeking Madame Weatherberry’s help, but it had nothing to do with making Madame Weatherberry
feel helpless. Unfortunately, Brystal had put the meeting off for as long as she could.

  “You’re right, I should speak to her while I still have a chance,” she said. “So we all have our assignments. Xanthous and Emerelda will travel to the Eastern Kingdom, Tangerina and Skylene will visit the book collector in Fort Longsworth, and Stitches, Sprout, Beebee, and Pip will start searching for women who look really, really good for their age. In the meantime, Lucy and I will head north.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE ICY TRUTH

  Brystal and Lucy dressed in their warmest clothes and left for the Northern Mountains that afternoon. They departed the Academy of Magic in a giant bubble, soared high above the Troll and Goblin Territories, and were descending into the chilly Northern Kingdom by nightfall. The bubble landed safely on a slope directly below the shimmering Northern Lights and the girls searched the snowy terrain for Madame Weatherberry’s cave. Thankfully, the weather was kind tonight and the entrance was easy to spot.

  It had been over a year since Brystal visited Madame Weatherberry, but as she and Lucy wandered down the long entrance tunnel and emerged into the spacious cave, everything felt eerily familiar—as if the cold air had frozen time itself.

  Brystal waved her wand and covered all the stalactites above them in twinkling lights that illuminated the cave like a dozen chandeliers. The girls headed to the back of the cave where the grisly Snow Queen was frozen in a wall of ice. Every inch of the witch’s monstrous appearance—from her cracked and frostbitten skin to her jagged and rotten teeth—was just as terrifying as they remembered, if not more.