The Severance Game, page 10
Okay, it definitely worked. While my best friend’s comment had been aimed at me, our entire group was shocked by the harshness of SJ’s words. They were completely incompatible with the sweet-natured temperament we’d always known her for.
Up ’til that point I couldn’t remember SJ saying an outright cruel thing in her life. Like, ever. But I gathered that was what the witch meant when she said once the source of our inner strength was absorbed into the watering can we would behave as if that part of our personality didn’t exist.
In other words, SJ’s greatest strength had been her kindness, and now that she was stripped of that, she was no longer kind in the slightest.
“The mark on her hand,” Jason said, gesturing to the word imprinted in SJ’s palm. “Is it permanent?”
“No,” the witch responded. “It’ll disappear after the fourteen days too. Now stop stalling. Who’s next?”
We hesitated.
“Need I remind you of the alternative?” she asked.
The witch waved her hand and our weapons flew forward and encircled our group with their respective blades aimed directly at us.
“I’ll go,” Blue said confidently.
The process with the watering can repeated itself. When it was complete I was horrified to see the word “fearless” burned into my friend’s hand.
It was obvious that this was the internal strength that gave Blue her power. Unfortunately, I was immediately put off when I realized this meant she was now full of fear.
Jason went next and was branded “selfless.”
I’d never really paid much attention to this defining quality of his. But it did make sense when I thought about it. He was always putting others before himself. He’d even set aside his own feelings over Mark’s disappearance so our group could continue with its mission. However, now that his selflessness had been thoroughly absorbed by the can, I gathered his personality was about to take a very abrupt selfish turn.
Next in the line-up came Daniel. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t super interested to see what word the watering can branded him with. This would finally reveal something about him—something big and important that might solve the endless riddle of who he was.
Regrettably, the king of cryptic-ness was one step ahead of me. Not only did he use his less-dominant, left hand to grasp the can, but the second he removed it from the handle he balled it into a fist before any of us could see what had been imprinted there.
The others were still too drained from their ordeals to care, so I was the only one frustrated by his resolute secrecy.
It was finally my turn to face the watering can. So I stepped forward and grabbed hold of its handle—ready for whatever would come. What I got, though, was seriously anticlimactic.
The can’s glow spread over my arm. But I didn’t feel the same level of pain my friends had felt. Frankly, I’d experienced more potent high-fives than this. For all the watering can’s supposed dark magic, the weird burning episodes I sometimes experienced in my hands were twenty times more severe.
These burning episodes happened at random times, like on our bedroom balcony the first day back at school or by the fountain the night of the ball in Adelaide. They were absolutely awful, and felt like I was holding fire. This watering can, meanwhile, felt more like touching ice. When the magic glow left my arm, its touch merely emulated the aftereffects of rubbing menthol on your skin.
At that point my hand turned to liquid metal, but it snapped back to normal almost instantly. I removed my grip from the watering can to learn what quality I’d been stripped of, but there was no word imprinted on my palm. Instead there was a glittering, blurry, scarlet blob, which flickered and faded into an unattractive splotch on my skin that looked like smudged ink. Stranger still, I didn’t feel any different. For better or worse, all of my personality felt intact.
“What happened?” I asked as I looked my hand over.
The witch snapped her fingers and the watering can flew to her. She shook it for a second then shrugged. “It couldn’t take anything from you. You’re not finished yet.”
“What do you mean I’m not finished?” I asked, kind of insulted.
“It’s like I said before,” the witch responded. “You, like all people, have a source of internal strength. But you haven’t yet fully realized the specific trait that gives you your strength, so the watering can can’t take it from you.”
“And the blob on my hand?”
“Just a side-effect,” the witch explained. “If you ever figure out what your strength is and quit suppressing it, the right word will appear on your hand like it did for your friends minus the whole ‘watering can strips you of the quality for two weeks’ thing. Sadly, I doubt you’ll ever reach that day.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because unless you can give me something else of value, I still have to kill you. Rules are rules, and what kind of person would I be if I broke my own?”
“She has magical powers,” Jason abruptly piped in.
“Jason!” I snapped.
“What? I am not getting killed because of you, Crisa. Just give the girl your magic so I can get out of here in one piece.”
Great. Unkind SJ has me on her hate list, and now selfish Jason is ready to throw me to the wolves at the drop of a hat if it means bettering his own odds.
“Relax,” our tiny captor said. “I don’t want your magic. For starters, magic I’ve got. And second, magic isn’t strength; it’s power. There’s a huge difference. Any fool can have power. Strength, however, is something special. So as I was saying, unless you have something else of value to offer . . .”
She motioned with her hand and an invisible force grabbed me by the throat and threw me against the back wall. I struggled against it, but was unable to break free. My attempts to do so only made the little witch snicker.
“You princess types are too easy,” she said. “Such damsels; it’s almost not even worth my time to kill you.”
The force from the witch’s push had caused my satchel to slip off my shoulder. It fell to the floor with a thud and the magic mirror I’d been carrying around tumbled out.
The little witch’s eyes widened when she saw it—the beautiful relic from Beauty & the Beast that my friends and I had taken from the Treasure Archives earlier in the month. We’d borrowed it from the Treasure Archives to find Emma; its powers allowed you to see and hear anybody whose name you spoke into its looking glass.
Originally we’d intended to put it back after getting the information we needed. Unfortunately, that same night someone else broke into the Archives after us and stole the replacement mirror we’d left as a decoy, along with three other items: Aladdin’s empty genie lamp, the corset used to poison Snow White before the apple, and the enchanted pea from The Princess & the Pea. As a result, we’d decided to keep the mirror with us to prevent it from being stolen by whoever wanted it. We figured that until the culprit of the other items was caught, it was safer in our possession. Alas, this no longer seemed to be the case.
Holding one hand in the air to keep me pinned to the wall, the witch motioned to the mirror with the other. It levitated across the room. When it reached her, she examined it with great care.
“You have a Mark One!” she exclaimed.
“A what?” Daniel asked.
“A Mark One magic mirror, you dolt,” she scorned, gesturing at the engraving on the back of the mirror. “I thought they’d all been destroyed ages ago . . . Do you have any idea what one of these is worth?”
“It’s not ours to give,” Blue blathered nervously. “See, we only borrowed it from our school. We were going to put it back. Now we’re just sort of holding onto it to protect it from whoever was really trying to steal it. But we have to take it back eventually otherwise we’ll get in serious trouble and—”
“Blue, shut up!” SJ barked. She whipped her head around. “You can have it,” she told the witch.
“SJ, we can’t—” I started to say. But then the witch tightened her fist, magically squeezing my windpipe shut.
She levitated me forward then released me from the chokehold when I was three feet in front of her. My body dropped to the ground. I coughed violently as air returned to my lungs.
The witch smiled and patted me on the head. “Thank you very much, Crisanta Knight. I accept your offering and will gladly take this mirror off your hands as payment for my hospitality.”
I looked up at her in surprise. “How?” I choked. “How do you know my name?”
“I got a message from some friends in Alderon to be on the lookout. Let’s just say you’re lucky I’m more interested in feeding my garden than I am in the going rate for the head of some stupid teenager.”
“Alderon?” I repeated.
That must’ve been where Arian and his lackeys were getting their orders from. Which meant that’s where this Nadia chick was too.
It made sense, I supposed. The desolate kingdom of Alderon was where our realm’s officials and Fairy Godmothers imprisoned any antagonists they caught—depositing them indefinitely within its one-way In and Out Spell border.
But if Arian was originally from Alderon, how had he and his followers managed to escape its boundaries to come after me and the other protagonists? And of all the potentially powerful main characters out there, why did they seem so adamant about wanting me dead?
It had to be more than my lame prologue prophecy. Unless they knew something about it that I didn’t.
I thought back to what Arian had said in Century City: “Oh, you poor, dumb princess. You really have no idea, do you?”
What if he was right? What if there was something about my prologue prophecy that I was missing? What if there was more to it than I knew?
If this was the case, I had no way to verify it. The only thing I could garner in that moment was that my prophecy must’ve been really important to the antagonists. Otherwise why else would word of their mission have made it all the way from their blocked-off kingdom on the outskirts of the realm to the middle of the Forbidden Forest?
“Here,” the witch said curtly, interrupting my train of thought with another wave of her hand. “You said you wanted taffy, right?”
The top cabinet on the left flew open. Inside there were several jars of the blue, sticky candy. “I assume you mean saltwater taffy,” the witch said. “It’s the only kind I have that’s of any use. One bite and you’ll be able to breathe underwater for up to four hours without resurfacing.”
“Yeah,” I said, standing and dusting myself off. “That’s the stuff.”
“Good,” the witch responded. “Then take what you came for before I change my mind. And get out.”
Like the others, I tore my attention away from the witch and moved for the kitchen cabinet. I opened a jar and each of us shoved a piece of the candy into our pockets.
This enchanted saltwater taffy was just what we needed to breathe underwater, find Ashlyn, and hopefully retrieve whatever “Heart of the Lost Princess” Emma’s list had been referring to.
By the time we turned back to where the small devil had been standing, she’d vanished without a trace.
Everything seemed colder in her absence. Even the wind had picked up. It blew open the chocolate window shutters with a great deal of ominous force.
After we’d gathered our weapons from the back of the room and made our way outside, that same wind caused the branches of the weeping willows on the edge of the Valley to sway. The motion created an unsettling effect, which was enhanced by the gloom of nightfall and the clouds that had rolled in. They were thick and stormy, concealing every star behind fifteen shades of gray.
SJ rammed into my shoulder, knocking me out of my thoughts. “Stop admiring the scenery, Crisa. We have to go. There will be more time for you to be enigmatic and self-indulgent later, I am sure.”
Wow, okay. Unkind SJ is so not going to be fun.
Still, my feelings for her new state aside, something told me she was right about us needing to go. Whatever other surprises the Forbidden Forest held likely didn’t get any better after dark.
We followed Chauncey’s map as best as we could when we left the Valley, but it became next to impossible to read in the dismal light.
As we continued to fumble along the darkening paths of the Forbidden Forest, it was probably for the best that we didn’t say much to each another. None of us were ourselves.
Well, except for me. But apparently I’m “not finished,” so what the heck do I know?
The only sounds we heard came from Blue and SJ. Blue released periodic squeaks of terror whenever a twig snapped beneath her feet or a wandering animal scampered out of a bush and startled her. SJ would then mercilessly shush Blue in response. Of the two, it was hard to say which sound was more difficult to take.
Daniel, meanwhile, appeared reluctant to open his mouth at all—probably afraid that he might say something that would give away the secret he was concealing within his hand.
Maybe I should go over there and try and trick him into revealing what he’s hiding? Or maybe I could just run up to him and unclench his fist by force to see for myself.
Both seemed like plausible plans, but my further formulation of their execution was cut short. A deafening howl pierced the woods, tearing through the silence.
Blue quivered nervously. “Wh-what was that?” she asked.
“It was nothing,” I said, trying to reassure her.
“No, no,” Blue insisted. “There’s something out there! You’re lying!”
“It would not be the first time,” SJ huffed.
Blue’s eyes darted around. “What does that mean? What’s out there? Oh, we’re all doomed, aren’t we?”
“Shut up, Blue!” SJ ordered.
“Whoa,” I interjected. “Cool it, SJ. That watering can is messing with her head and with yours. So just calm down, okay?”
“Guys,” Daniel said, trying to get our attention.
“Do not tell me to cool it, Crisa,” SJ snapped. “Do not tell me to do anything. We are here because of you and your big ideas. Neither of which I care for at the moment since you cannot even be honest about—”
“Guys,” Daniel repeated.
“What?” SJ and I shouted in unison.
Then we saw it. A gigantic wolf was leering at us from atop a nearby hill. He slowly descended through the tree-entwined slope, making his way toward our group. The creature’s eyes were glowing green and his twenty-foot long body was a carpet of thick, black fur that was almost flawlessly camouflaged with the darkness.
Blue screamed. Jason took out his axe. I stood frozen.
“We can take him,” Daniel said a bit unsteadily.
The raised hairs on the back of my neck made me think otherwise. As did the three other, equally large wolves that suddenly emerged from the trees and began to encircle us.
“You want to rethink that statement?” I muttered.
I began to feel nostalgic for the fire-breathing chipmunks.
The wolf closest to me snarled malevolently. He was a mere five feet away. He was so close, in fact, that I was able to see my reflection in his eyes like a shimmering bullseye. As he bared his fangs—sharp like daggers and white like moonlight—all I could think was:
My, what big teeth you have . . .
Therewolves
ther than the crunch of twigs beneath our feet and the occasional pensive hoot of an owl in the distance, all remained quiet.
Of course, this had less to do with the tension between the members of my group and more to do with the enormous wolves forcibly escorting us through the Forbidden Forest. They hadn’t exactly said anything to us. But for the past half hour they’d made what they wanted pretty clear. They simply herded us along, pushing us deeper into the trees with their growls and massive bodies.
As we traveled, it crossed my mind to break out my wand. But, tempting as it was, four giant monsters against a girl with a spear didn’t seem to offer the best odds. I was gutsy, not stupid. These things could probably swallow me whole in one bite.
In accord with this, the other thought that consumed my mind as we walked was why they hadn’t just eaten us already? Were they taking us back to their lair to share the wealth with their wolf friends? Or did we just need to be seasoned properly before being swallowed?
I caught glimpses of my friends’ faces during the seemingly endless journey. Blue looked terrified, making me feel sorry for her. She really had gotten the shortest end of the stick with the watering can, especially given our current situation.
The others seemed solemn—no doubt wondering how this wolf situation could play out. However, as I observed them I realized that there was something more to their expressions than that. Or rather, something less. Now that I had the chance to really notice, I saw just how empty they all appeared, even Daniel.
It was strange to think that a person’s personality could be so dependent on one defining characteristic, and that without it they became ghosts of their former selves. It made me feel guilty. I mean, here they were, my friends, their natures changed like unicorns with their horns ripped off—while I remained unscathed.
The thing was, not only did I feel guilty, I also felt kind of insulted.
How dare that awful little witch call me “not finished” like I was some haphazard arts-and-crafts project?
I glared at my palm. The blur persisted, mocking me with its lack of clarity.
My self-pity was put into perspective a minute later when we came upon a massive cave guarded by several other epically-sized wolves. Out of instinct I stopped in my tracks. But I was pushed forward in the next moment by the growling wolf behind me.
Hesitantly, I continued with the rest of the pack through the cavern’s opening.
Freaking out, freaking out, freaking out.
On our way down, the cave merged with several other tunnels like an underground maze. As we descended farther into the labyrinth’s heart, I noticed the usual accouterments—bats hanging from the ceiling, undergrowth here and there, bones scattered periodically, and torches lining the walkway. Although I didn’t quite get how wolves would go about lighting torches in the first place.
