Hello, Septimus Heap fans! I know that I told you a few weeks ago that I was coming back but I was so slow about it that I bet that many of you thought, as Marcia Overstrand would say, that I was "all talk and no do." I have been reading the fics in this category during the last few days and they have inspired me to try my own hand at writing again. I want to thank you all in advance for taking the time to read this. This story will have fourteen chapters, I think (7 plus 7 :) ) but each chapter will be much longer than my older ones. So don't worry, I'm not actually writing a much shorter story than I used to. I'll write one a week and maybe more depending on the week in question. Thanks again for stopping by. This is set after Fyre so I hope that I don't spoil much for those who haven't read it.
Chapter One
It was nearly three in the morning but Queen Jenna was not at all tired. She had spent the last five hours in what had formerly been Sarah Heap's sitting room in the Palace, talking to her biological father, Milo Banda. This was actually not an unusual occurrence now that Milo was staying in the Palace with his daughter. Jenna's adoptive parents, Sarah and Silas Heap, had moved back into their own home in the Ramblings and left their grown daughter to her own devices. Not a day passed when Jenna didn't miss their company but she was growing to like having the Palace to herself now. She was Queen after all and she felt that it was only right that she do what she wished rather than following Sarah's demands as she had as a young princess. Milo was a guest in the Palace whenever he returned home from his voyages. As a travelling merchant, his profession frequently took him far from the Castle and Jenna, who had not always gotten along with her father, now missed him immensely whenever he was away. She was beginning to realize that she had more in common with Milo than she had originally thought. Ever since she had finally encountered her mother, Queen Cerys, a few months earlier, Jenna had often wondered what her life would have been like if her mother had never been killed. There would have been more children, certainly, but she would still have been the heir to throne. Jenna had come to love asking her father questions about her mother. Queen Cerys's ghost did not often choose to appear to Jenna and, when she did so, it was merely to lecture her. Jenna could not help but believe that her mother had not always been so cold. When Milo described her, she sounded like an adventurous, charming young woman. Perhaps her untimely death had brought an end to all of that happiness. Surely having such a tragically short life would drive any ghost to be bitter. Still though, Jenna did often wish that her mother were more interested in her life. Although she would never admit to it, it bothered Jenna that her mother seemed so disappointed in her. Every time she made a decision as Queen, she wondered if Cerys would approve of it. Due to the fact that her mother did not seem to have much time for her, Jenna had begun to turn to Milo for reassurance, which he was only too happy to give her. Thus, their relationship at last started to develop.
Milo had been only too happy to stay at the Palace in the months following his daughter's coronation. For years, he had longed to become closer to Jenna but she had seemed so happy with her adoptive parents and he had never wanted to complicate things. He loved being near Jenna. She reminded him of Cerys and, with Cerys's ghost visiting him on a relatively regular basis, he felt that things were almost normal again. Well, as normal as they possibly could be given the circumstances. Talking to Cerys was never as easy as he had imagined it would be, however. No matter how hard he tried to look elsewhere, his eyes were always drawn to those atrocious bloodstains just over her heart. Whenever he looked at them, guilt invaded his spirit and filled him completely. Seeing what had become of his beloved wife was constant reminder to do all that he possibly could to keep Jenna safe from harm. Despite the fact that Milo heartily enjoyed that he could speak to his wife again, he did not approve of how critical Cerys was of the Heap family. Often the couple's conversations, which should have been tender after so many years apart, became arguments about what was best for Jenna. Cerys believed that her daughter ought to be kept as far away from the Heaps as possible because Wizards "do not know the first thing about the life of a Queen and will only make the poor child more confused than she currently is!" Milo disagreed on account of Jenna's feelings for her adoptive family. Cerys was, as she always had been, a stickler for the rules and, in the case of Jenna's reign as Queen, that was only causing problems.
On this particular evening, Jenna was questioning her father about a fairly sensitive subject that, before now, Jenna had never broached. "Milo," she began tentatively, looking her father in the eye to be certain that he would not look away from her. Milo held her gaze. "Is it true that it has become your habit to take Marcia out to the Little Theater in the Ramblings every few weeks?"
Milo's visage rapidly changed from placid and inquisitive to beet red. "Well, yes, dear, but where did you hear that?"
"Sally Mullin. She came to visit Mum when I was in our old place in the Ramblings on Monday, helping Mum clean the old sofa. It really is filthy now and I don't think Mum is ever going to manage to clean it entirely. I'd get a new one if I were her. Anyway, that isn't the point. I wanted to ask you because Sally does have a tendency to embellish stories a bit and it just seemed so ludicrous to me. It is true then?" A look of undisguised disgust was written across Jenna's beautiful face as she regarded Milo, "You're courting Marcia and then returning here to have conversations with the Queen…I mean, Mama, afterward? Milo, doesn't that seem a bit bizarre to you? My mother still refers to you as her husband. I firmly believe that this is something that you ought to discuss with her out of respect for her."
Milo was, for a moment, too dumbfounded to speak. His daughter had matured so much in the last few months that sometimes he scarcely recognized her. In his opinion, her sense of moral duty was unmatched and that fact alone made him enormously proud to be her father. However, this question she had asked of him left him in a difficult situation. Milo Banda had indeed been courting the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Marcia Overstrand, during the past few months. He hardly thought of his courtship of her as a serious relationship but it had provided some much needed amusement. Milo knew that Marcia had fancied him for years. He had, unbeknownst to Jenna of course, courted Marcia prior to his marriage to Queen Cerys. His marriage had broken Marcia's heart and made her even colder than she had been previously. Milo had, in the years following his marriage, always felt a fleeting guilt about this but he knew that it was not his fault that he had fallen for Cerys and preferred her. Milo had found Marcia Overstrand charming but her social skills has been decidedly lacking and her immense focus on her career as a Wizard had ruled out any possibility of a marriage to her and marriage was something the young Milo had ultimately desired. Thus he had scarcely been able to believe his luck when, after attending a masquerade ball at the Palace, it had come to his attention that the exquisitely beautiful young Queen had set her eyes upon him.
Milo stared into Jenna's eyes now, those same intense eyes that he had initially seen seventeen years earlier when he had first stared into the eyes of the woman who would become his wife. Milo sighed heavily. Jenna was so like Cerys. She was, thankfully, considerably less grumpy but she was still as passionate and lovely as Cerys had been. Milo was convinced that Jenna had inherited all of Cerys attractive traits and none of the ones that had irked him incessantly. She was certainly her mother's doppelganger from a physical standpoint with her long, raven hair, tawny skin, petite form, and bright violet eyes. Her lips were parted in a way that Milo knew would tempt young men to distraction. The thought bothered him more than he liked to admit.
Jenna interrupted his thoughts, "Milo, are you listening to me?" There was an undeniable trace of irritation in her tone.
Milo was immediately shaken from his reverie, "Yes, I am. Of course, I am. Jenna…I don't know how to explain this but I believe that your mother already knows about Marcia. She always did. It is a bit of a long story but it is time that you know it. I forget so often that you truly are a grown lady now." Milo hesitated and Jenna leaned closer to her father, suddenly eager as a child to hear the story he had for her. She did not take for granted the fact that Milo was now straightforward with her, rather than ambiguous as he had been toward her when she had been a bit younger. She had faith that whatever he was about to tell her was absolutely true. "Years ago, when I was a young lad just beginning as a merchant, I wasn't quite ready to "settle down," if you know what I mean. I was at that age when young men are apt to court women and mean nothing by it. I courted quite a few because I was a rather attractive fellow in those days…" At this remark, Jenna had to fight the urge to roll her eyes in annoyance but her expression passed Milo by, "and one of the women I courted was Marcia."
Jenna gasped involuntarily, "You courted Marcia before you courted my mother? Milo, frankly, one of the main reasons that any of this surprises me is that I really rather doubted that Marcia had the time or desire to court anyone. She is so obsessed with magyk and I suppose I assumed that she always had been. I can't imagine her any other way. When I was a bit younger, I used to wonder if she had ever been kissed!"
Milo offered Jenna his wry, slightly lopsided smiled and Jenna returned it with her own, radiant one. "I can confirm for you that she has been kissed and that she's not bad at all."
Jenna's smile immediately vanished and was replaced by an expression of horror. "Milo, I did not need to know that. Please continue. I just….ugh…what did you see in her? She's kind of awkward and she really is so gauche."
Milo suppressed the urge to laugh in amusement at his daughter's antics. "She's not that bad, love. Marcia is very attractive in her way. She can be rather adorable when she wants to be." Jenna suppressed a splutter, "Anyway, I was courting her but she seemed quite focused on her career-she was ExtraOrdinary apprentice at the time after all-and many of the topics about which she spoke I didn't entirely understand."
Jenna cut in, "Tell me about it." She said in a dry tone. "I don't understand a bit of what goes on in the Wizard Tower or the minds of the people that inhabit it."
"Neither do I but one need not understand everything about his significant other's interests in order to have a good relationship" Milo began before he was interrupted once more.
"Of course not, when the relationship is focused on sex." Jenna remarked acidly. Her comment caught her father off guard. As soon as the initial shock had worn off, a deep sadness filled his breast. His beautiful daughter was no longer as innocent as she looked. He had missed the period of her childhood in which she had doubtlessly been blissfully unaware of adult behaviors of any kind.
"But it wasn't," Milo insisted, "I was merely getting to know her. I thought she was quite charming but she simply saw nothing in her future but magyk while I pictured myself with a wife and a family. Our goals were not the same and therefore, as you can surely imagine, I didn't take our relationship that seriously because I knew it would not last. I was unaware, at the time, of the effect I had had on Marcia. It seems that, while I was casually courting her, she fell in love with me."
Jenna shook her head in disbelief, "Who told you that?"
"Cerys. Cerys was a very clever woman and she could understand what was in the hearts of other women by merely looking into their eyes."
"When did she ever see you with Marcia?"
"At the masquerade ball she held in the Palace Ballroom the night I met her. I recall that Marcia was quite excited when I asked her to attend it with me and I thought perhaps that she would choose me over her ambition to become the ExtraOrdinary Wizard after all. She looked so beautiful that night. She has all of those thick, delightful curls, you know and she had them pulled back into a-"
Jenna stamped her foot loudly and cleared her throat. Milo nodded, "Right, right, of course. We had quite a night, Marcia and I. We went to one of the nicer restaurants in the Ramblings and she was so elegant and charismatic that I began to wonder if I was falling in love with her in spite of myself. Oh but Jenna, the moment I walked into that Ballroom and saw your mother, I forgot the entire evening with Marcia. I doubt that I will ever see a woman that breathtaking again. Everyone was affected by her that evening, the air was electric and no one could even think straight because of her. Every man in that room wanted to be Cerys's husband and, the second I saw her, I was no exception."
Jenna attempted to reconstruct the scene in her mind. Queen Cerys was so reserved and quiet now that it was difficult for Jenna to imagine her as the belle of the ball that Milo was describing. Nonetheless, Jenna knew that she must have been or else her father would never have lost his heart to her so swiftly and suddenly. In spite of her best efforts to the contrary, Jenna felt a pang of sympathy for Marcia. "Did you speak with my mother that evening?"
"Oh yes, for quite some time. I suppose I got a bit carried away. I introduced Marcia to her and after I had become caught up in conversation, Marcia slipped away. I assumed she had gone to get a refreshment but after some time had passed, it became apparent that she had gone and I didn't really concern myself too much. Your mother did though. Your mother was always so thoughtful, Jenna. I could not resist the urge to ask her to dance. What does one dance with the Queen of the Castle hurt?, I thought, but when I proposed the idea to Cerys, she said 'What of that young woman who loves you?' and that was the first time it had ever occurred to me that Marcia did love me. I tried not to think about it though and the result was that I had one of the very best evenings of my life. It was years before I spoke to Marcia again after that. I would feel badly about what I did except that it all worked out for the best. She followed her dream and became a phenomenal ExtraOrdinary and I married the love of my life. You see, I think Marcia understands now that what we are currently engaging in is casual. She is too busy to pursue something more serious anyway. I speak to your mother in the evenings because she is and always will be the woman that I love. Marcia and I are just having a bit of fun, that's all."
Jenna was silent for a moment, still trying to take in all of the information with which her father had just provided her. "You really think that Marcia was all right with all of that?"
Milo shrugged, "She never told me otherwise."
Jenna shook her head. "That doesn't mean anything with her. I don't blame you though. Marcia is such a pain and she is quite weird most of the time."
Milo frowned, "You're too hard on Marcia. She cares about you and she knows that you don't think much of her. It rather hurts her feelings. I know it can be difficult for a young Queen to understand Wizards but it would behoove you to try."
Irritation rose in Jenna's breast, "I have. Marcia is impossible sometimes."
Milo decided it was time to change the subject. "Now that you have spent so much time probing me for information, I've got a question for you." Milo gave his daughter an affectionate glance. Jenna didn't look at him right away. Her mind was still on the look Cerys must have seen in Marcia's glittering emerald eyes when she realized that she had lost Milo, possibly forever. She shook herself.
"Yes, Milo?"
"Who has caught your eye? Come now, I hear you singing in your bedchambers while you comb your hair and dancing about when you open your windows to let the sunshine in. Who is it? Who is the lucky young man?"
Unlike her father, Jenna succeeded in preventing a blush from rising to her already rosy cheeks, "Must a girl be in love if she sings in her bedroom and dances for the birds outside?" she asked coyly and a smile played at her lips.
"Perhaps not but you seem just a bit jollier than usual. I know so little of this kind of thing. I shouldn't be asking about it at all. Truly, you are my Queen and I, despite blood relation, am your subject. We should not discuss this topic if you find it distasteful." Milo looked at Jenna apologetically but she offered a reassuring grin in response.
"Don't be silly, Milo! As it happens, there is a young man. I've known him my whole life and yet, I feel that I never really knew him at all, not until this year. He was such a boy for years and this year I let him out of my sight for a month and he became a man, a respectable man who understands politics and has frequent meetings with the ExtraOrdinary Wizard and the Castle Alchemist. So often I can't believe that I never noticed what a gentleman he is."
Milo's smile became a broader with each word that passed from his daughter's lips. "You love Beetle, our Chief Hermetic Scribe! What a worthy man. I've no doubt that he loves you too. I imagine that he has for years. You are….well, so like Cerys. No man could resist you if he tried. If you make it known that you desire him, I'm certain that he will want for nothing else." Jenna had come to know her father well enough to know that an idea was forming in his mind. "I've got it! You shall have a masquerade ball, just as your mother did. Everyone in the Castle will be invited and there, by the end of the evening, you will be able to claim the Chief Hermetic Scribe for yourself. I will help you prepare. What do you think?"
Jenna was unable to disguise her elation. "Oh Milo, it is a brilliant idea! I love the idea of such a party. All of the people I love will be here." Jenna smiled at the thought. That was what she adored most about parties and balls. They were a time at which she could have everyone she loved near to her, if only for a brief time. She thought of Septimus. Aside from Beetle, she was looking forward to seeing him most of all. She wondered if he would bring Rose, the pretty Sick Bay apprentice with shiny chestnut hair, and scowled a bit at the thought. Jenna wasn't sure that she liked Rose very much though she had always been a bit indifferent to her before Septimus had taken such an interest in her. She turned her thoughts back to Beetle and shivered a little to think that, if all went well, she would soon be dancing in his arms in the middle of the gorgeous Palace Ballroom. Jenna giggled aloud, a sound that nearly brought tears of joy and delight to Milo's eyes. Jenna was angelic in Milo's eyes. Just as he could scarcely believe that Cerys had selected him to be her husband, he struggled to believe that he had had any part in creating Jenna. She was too perfect for him.
Jenna noticed that her father was fighting with his emotions and she daintily enveloped him in a warm embrace. "Let us begin planning this event tomorrow. You are a genius Milo." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek as the clock in the sitting room struck four o'clock. "Goodness, it is late, isn't it? I should be off to bed. I've got things to do tomorrow, as ever. Thank you, Milo, for all that you told me."
"It was my pleasure, Sweetheart. Sleep well." Jenna gave her father's hand a squeeze and started up the grand staircase that led to her bedchambers. As she turned the corner that led into the long hallway upstairs, Milo was treated to the sound of his daughter singing happily as she disappeared from sight.
xxx
A quarter of an hour later, Jenna was lying in her bed with the satin blankets pulled tightly around her, still too excited at the prospect of the masquerade ball to sleep. She was in a bit of trance, in that sweet, confused state that one experiences when he is on the verge of sleep but has not yet allowed it to take him completely. She was thinking of Beetle. In her trancelike state, she could see flashes of his beautiful dark hair and deep brown eyes, filled with an intense passion for her alone. He was smiling at her. Jenna smiled as well and extended her tiny hand forward, as though he might grasp it. As she did this, she was startled by a voice that was absolutely unlike Beetle's.
"Jenna," the voice called, "Jenna, you must listen to me."
Jenna jumped and lost the image of Beetle entirely but she did not scream in shock. The voice belonged to her mother, Queen Cerys. Jenna suppressed a sigh of irritation. Couldn't Cerys see that she was ready to sleep? Couldn't she have the courtesy to leave her to her dreams? Blearily, Jenna focused her tired eyes on the just visible form of her mother's ghost. "Yes, Mama?" In spite of the fact that she was sure that her mother was there with her, she felt as though her trance had not yet entirely worn off. It was a bizarre sensation indeed.
"I am glad to see that you are becoming closer to your father at last. It is a very rewarding thing to watch."
Jenna cringed a little. She didn't approve of the fact that her mother had been spying on the conversation she had had with her father. Even though Cerys had been Milo's wife, it had been a private conversation. As much as her mother's actions irked her, Jenna couldn't say that she was surprised by them. After all, this was the woman who had refused to tell her where the key to the Golden Pyramid that crowned the Wizard Tower was located in a life or death situation. Jenna knew her mother well enough now to know that everything was on her terms. "Yes, Milo and I have much more in common than I initially believed." Jenna replied, hoping that she sounded "Queeny" enough. It wasn't often that she doubted herself anymore but something about her mother made her feel as though she was still a child, unsure of how to rule properly. It seemed as though her mother was always judging her and, despite what Jenna frequently said the contrary, she did want Cerys to approve of her decisions as Queen.
A slight smile played across Cerys's lips that made Jenna instantly feel relieved. She had said the right thing after all. "My dear, your father is a good man but he is misguided and he was not as honest with you as he could have been."
Jenna frowned, confused. "What do you mean, Mama?" she asked, careful to remember to call her mother by the name that she preferred.
Cerys did not look into her daughter's eyes, but she answered her question immediately. "I have seen Milo with Marcia and he is more taken with her than he indicated. I know that you, understandably, are not Marcia's greatest...supporter and because of that, he may have tried to conceal a bit of his affection from you. He doesn't love her though. Do not concern yourself, child. That is not the reason that we must speak."
Then what is it? Jenna wanted to yell. She hated her mother's ambiguous mind games. It seemed as though Cerys was never straightforward about anything. However, she succeeded in biting her tongue long enough for Cerys to continue. "Daughter," she started, in a haughty tone that really annoyed Jenna, "didn't you ever wonder why the Supreme Custodian and his followers didn't kill Marcia after she escaped the assassin on the day that I was so cruelly murdered?"
Jenna shook her head, "Of course not. Mum always told me that the Custodians told everyone that Alther had retired and that you were not well after the birth of your child. They never told anyone in the Castle that there had been an assassination at all. I suppose that they could have pursued Marcia but it would have made their intentions obvious. They had to be subtle until they could find out where Marcia had hidden me."
Cerys laughed in amusement and that sound, which would have been charming under other circumstances, unsettled Jenna somewhat. "But, my dear, within six months, everyone knew what had become of me and of poor Alther but the people of the Castle are peaceful, you know that. They didn't want to fight the custodians and they could not see a purpose in doing so. Many of them believed that you, like Alther and me, were dead. If they were to wage war on the custodians, it would be futile. They could not save the royal line now and the majority of them aren't the sort of people who fight out of righteous anger. I think a number of them worried for Marcia, in fact. Those who still had hope that you were alive believed-rightly of course-that Marcia had hidden you from the world and from the custodians. They thought it would only be a matter of time before the Custodians tortured Marcia for information on your whereabouts. After all, everyone was aware of what they had done to Alther. It seemed only natural that they would approach Marcia next. They were trying to eradicate the Castle of magyk after all."
Jenna paused, realizing that what her mother said was true. "I always did wonder why the Custodians never questioned Marcia during those ten years that I was hidden. They had to know that she knew where I was."
Cerys nodded, "Naturally. They couldn't question her though. Their leader forbid it."
An expression of surprise flashed across Jenna's face. "You mean DomDaniel? But why?"
Cerys drew nearer to Jenna and placed her ghostly hand on top of her daughter's. Jenna dared not move for fear that she might pass through her mother. In fact, for some reason that she was unable to articulate, she felt as though even breathing at this moment would be impossible. "Jenna, Marcia Overstrand's jealousy brought about my death. When Milo rejected her, Marcia was inconsolable. It was hardly my fault that he became infatuated with me but Marcia didn't see it that way. She started studying all manner of darke topics behind Alther's back and used a darke method of some form-I don't understand it entirely-to contact DomDaniel and inform him that I was to have a baby Princess and that, if he wanted to destroy the royal line, he must do so immediately. Alther had apparently frequently told her that DomDaniel was still very much alive and likely to return at some point in the Castle's history. Marcia was willing to help him destroy the royal line as long as he did nothing to harm the Wizards in return. DomDaniel, for his part, assured her that he wouldn't."
"But he did," Jenna noted, "He murdered Alther right in front of her. Alther always used to tell me that Marcia was mad with grief even while it was happening. He said that he had never seen her cry like that. Aside from that, Marcia is petrified of darke stuff. That is what makes her a weaker Wizard than Sep. Sep always uses magyk and darke in a perfect balance. Marcia only relies on her natural magykal ability. She would have been too afraid to mess with the darke."
Cerys's patience had grown thin, "Do not disrespect me, Daughter! You are passing judgments before you have even heard the entire story. You are more willing to believe accounts by Wizards than you are to believe your mother! That is shameful. A wise Queen listens first and then judges."
Jenna would have escalated this disagreement with her mother but she recalled that her late Aunt Zelda had once said those very words, "A wise Queen listens first, then she judges." Jenna knew that she had to at least let her mother finish her story, however mad it seemed. "I'm sorry, Mama. You are right."
As quickly as it had arrived, Cerys's anger disappeared. "DomDaniel did indeed reassure Marcia that no Wizards would be harmed but he had no intention of keeping his promise. DomDaniel was never exactly known for keeping bargains and, now that he had gained the information that he wanted from Marcia, he intended to turn on her and murder not only me and my tiny daughter but her and Alther as well on the day that you were born. Needless to say, Marcia realized this when the assassin arrived in the Throne Room but it was too late then. She did try to save you then, probably because you were Milo's child and seeing you at last reminded her that you were as much his as you were mine. She was petrified of darke magyk after that. Alther forgave her for what she did. I don't understand how but Wizards are fools and I struggle to understand anything that they do at all. Marcia always felt as though she had killed Alther and that darke magyk had caused her to do so. She never touched it again after that even though, as you so rightly said, small doses of it are useful. I doubt if she ever felt a bit of remorse toward me, however. If Milo had not fathered you, she would have left you to die too. The Custodians didn't hurt Marcia in the years following that because DomDaniel had informed them that he had a "plan" for her. I assume that he wanted to torture her to death in some hideous fashion. I'm glad he didn't though. Had he succeeded, I would never have had the chance that I now have, the chance to exact my own revenge. Jenna," Cerys gulped, as she always did when she pronounced the name that the Heaps had selected for her daughter, "Marcia robbed me of my life and now she is trying to enjoy the man who should have been mine forever. As my daughter, you have a duty to me. I know that we have had our difficulties in the past but we do love one another, don't we? There is a reason that you instinctively distrust Marcia and there is more to it than the fact that Wizards and Queens do not often agree. After all, you get on well with that Heap boy, do you not?"
Ordinarily, Jenna would have shouted, "He is my brother!" in reply but now, she was too shocked to speak. All that her mother had told her made a sick kind of sense to her. She nodded in agreement. "Yes." She managed. "Oh….oh Mama, I am sorry." This time, Jenna meant it. "I am so, so sorry. She stole….she stole everything from you, didn't she?" Sadness and an anger such as she had never known before began to rise in her breast, "What can I do, Mama? Why did Alther just accept her after that? I cannot trust her. Something must be done. If Milo knew, he would have nothing to do with her."
Cerys sighed sadly, "Jenna, dear, if you tried talking to anyone but Alther about it, they wouldn't believe you and Alther…..well, people do mad things for their children. Look at the way in which Sarah and Silas forgave Simon for his misdeeds. Alther loved Marcia as his own child. It is really the same. There is a solution though."
"What is it?" Jenna asked eagerly.
"You" her mother replied simply. "You are the solution, Jenna. Marcia trusts you. As I understand it, she has even developed an….affection for you or some type or other. No doubt that makes her feel that much guiltier about her monstrous deed. This is what I ask of you. Visit her. Tell her you wish to speak to her privately and then end her life with this." To Jenna's amazement, the ghost of Queen Cerys caused an object to move. She picked up the object with what little strength she had and placed it in her daughter's outstretched palm.
Jenna examined the object closely. It was the most beautiful knife she had ever seen. It was edged with gold and, at the tip of the handle was a bit of lapis that resembled the lapis lazuli that lined the Akhu Amulet that all ExtraOrdinary Wizards were required to wear. Jenna was dumbfounded. "What is this?" she asked.
Cerys groaned, as though Jenna were intentionally being slow. "It is what you must use to rid the Castle of Marcia Overstrand. No ExtraOrdinary Wizard that has betrayed a Queen should be allowed to remain in power. There have been times in the past when an ExtraOrdinary Wizard did not agree with the manner in which the Queen ruled and they always regretted it. This knife was made specifically for the purpose of ridding the Castle of incompetent ExtraOrdinary Wizards. They must be killed by the Queen- that is the only proper way to destroy them. The Queen always cuts the ExtraOrdinary Wizard's throat. That is tradition and that is what you must do. It is a shame to have to use this knife once more, but that is its purpose and it has not carried out its purpose in hundreds of years. ExtraOrdinaries do tend to forget that they are not the true leaders of the Castle."
Jenna shuddered and fought the urge to burst into tears of shock and horror at the thought of what her mother was asking of her. "You mean that Queens have done this in the past? You want me to sneak into Marcia's rooms and cut her throat like a pig? Mama, I cannot."
"If you are a worthy Queen, you will." Her mother's voice was frigid, merciless. "It is your duty. You have a corrupt ExtraOrdinary in the Wizard Tower. You must kill her first. Only then can you tell others why. The people will accept what you have done. It is the Queen's right to have vengeance when they have been treated badly by the Wizards who are, after all, their subjects. The people of the Castle who have studied history know that this has been done before. No one will harm you, Jenna. You are doing what is right. I shall be so proud of you."
Jenna exhaled sharply and her eyes filled with tears. She thought of Septimus and how much he loved Marcia. He would never forgive her if she did this.
"Your apprentice boy, Septimus, will forgive you once he knows the truth." Cerys said dismissively, as though they were discussing the weather rather than planning the death of one of the Castle's most respected dignitaries. It totally unnerved Jenna that her mother had known exactly what she was thinking but Cerys sounded so calm that she began to think that she was right. After all, Marcia had done the ultimate wrong and Septimus was currently unaware of that. Once he knew the truth, perhaps he would see things differently after all.
"All right, Mama." She said softly, recalling the words Cerys had just said "I shall be so proud of you." Jenna realized at once that that was what she wanted more than anything. She wanted her mother's approval, her mother's love. What Marcia had done was undeniably evil and she needed to be held accountable. "I won't disappoint you." Jenna muttered, essaying to keep her voice from trembling.
Cerys smiled, "I know that you won't, Daughter. I'll leave you to rest now. You've a lot to think about. Focus now on the young man that loves you. You will know when the time has arrived for you to carry out your duty. You shall do it swiftly and proceed with your life. Do not be afraid."
Jenna didn't think it was possible not to be afraid but she nodded anyway, still too stunned to speak.
"Good night, my dear." Cerys said quietly and then she faded away, leaving Jenna to wonder whether what she had just experienced had even been real. Was she dreaming? Jenna stood up and glanced around the room, her thoughts of the masquerade ball long forgotten. She wanted to talk to someone about this, but whom? She could tell no one, her mother had said. It was true that Jenna had been less than fond of Marcia during the last few years but she had never even thought of harming her. As Jenna's eyes flitted about the room, they finally fell on the old dresser opposite her bed. On the dresser, was, she knew, among other items of importance, the gold ring that had belonged to the first Queen. For years, it has been the two faced ring that had caused everyone in the Castle so much grief but now, it was no more than a beautiful piece of gold, just as it had been when Hotep-Ra, the first ExtraOrdinary Wizard, had lived in the Tower. Marcia had given it to her for her coronation. The memory made Jenna's eyes sting once again but she brushed all emotion to one side. Marcia was a deceptive monster. It was time to replace her with someone more competent and avenge her mother's name. There could be no turning back now.
xxx
The news that the young Queen was to have a masquerade ball spread like wildfire throughout the entire Castle. The young men were especially excited. They thought that the occurrence of the ball might be an indication that Queen Jenna was searching for a husband. The citizens of the Castle enjoyed an excuse to celebrate and there was scarcely anyone who wasn't anticipating the evening of the ball. Even Larry, the irritable owner of Larry's Dead Languages, had gotten a new suit and asked Dandra Draa, the newest attendant in the Wizard Tower Sick Bay, to attend to event with him. Everyone in the Castle was invited and no doubt the majority of them would go. Therefore, when the day of the ball at last arrived, there was a buzz of excitement throughout the city. One individual who was not really affected enormously by said buzz was Syrah Syara. Syrah was tending her garden in the Ramblings when she heard a sharp knock on the door. She smirked to herself. There was only one person in the world that could be. She decided that her balcony garden could wait a bit longer and she went to answer the door.
"Syrah!" her visitor exclaimed excitedly before throwing her arms tightly around her, "Today is the day! Aren't you excited?"
"Of course, Rose. Why wouldn't I be?"
Syrah's guest, Rose, the pretty Sick Bay apprentice, frowned. "You don't sound excited. Come on, Syrah, it will do you good to get out. You've been in here for days."
Syrah smiled wistfully at her friend, "I get out enough. There is just so much to read here. But I'm going. I promised Hildegarde that I would go and I wouldn't dare back out of my promise to her."
Rose laughed, "No, I don't imagine that you would. What time is Hildegarde coming to pick you up?"
"Oh I don't know. Seven fifteen, I believe is the time I gave her. It has been so long since I discussed this with her."
Rose was unable to hide her smile of amusement and Syrah was struck, as always, by how lovely her friend was. When she had first awoken from the disenchantment process, Syrah had felt so confused and alone. She had spoken strictly to the ghost of her old mentor, Julius Pike, and to Rose during the weeks following the day she awoke. Julius was a comfort to her for a while until she came to the conclusion that talking so frequently about the past was only prolonging her illness and that she needed to move forward. Rose, on the other hand, had been a true comfort to her since she had recovered. With her loving heart and warm personality, Rose had given Syrah the strength to emerge from her dark, unhappy state and learn that she could, in fact, function in this Time. In many ways, she now preferred it to her own. She had certainly never had a friend like Rose in her Time. Syrah didn't understand how anyone could dislike Rose. She was always positive and upbeat and her energy was contagious. Syrah was already beginning to develop a tingle of excitement about the evening, just from being near Rose. She looked up and noticed Rose's amused expression. Rose had the biggest smile that Syrah had ever seen. It was as sweet and warm as her personality and Syrah distinctly got the impression that Rose would be capable of healing even the most wounded of souls.
Rose interrupted Syrah's thoughts. "You don't even know when your girlfriend is coming? Don't try to tell me that Hildegarde hasn't been talking about this for months, I know that she has. I live at the Tower, you know. She was especially excited about going with you. I've always told you that you've got charisma. Why were you never sure that Hildegarde liked you? It was obvious to everyone but you."
"Well, everyone seemed to believe that she had developed an interest in that mad sailor, Milo Banda, until he set his sights on Madam Marcia. I didn't want to claim what wasn't mine. Aside from that, I wasn't certain about Hildegarde then. I found her attractive, yes, but we have such different beliefs….I didn't know how much it would effect us."
"And has it effected you?" Rose asked.
"Only a bit. I imagined that it would be worse than it actually is."
That radiant smile made another appearance as Rose said, "Typical" and set about trying to tame Syrah's wild dark hair. "You've got such pretty hair." Rose commented, "I don't know why you don't do more with it."
Syrah shook her head. "I don't go out much anymore, you know that. I haven't got a reason to put it up or do something fancy with it."
"Oh but you don't need a reason. It is just fun sometimes." Syrah wasn't surprised by this response. She knew that Rose was always experimenting with new looks for her long, rich, chestnut hair. Her hair was a whole shade lighter than Syrah's and Syrah found it more exciting. Rose's hair reflected many lovely colors as the late afternoon sun danced across it. Rose herself was, as ever, oblivious to how lovely she looked.
Syrah closed her eyes and allowed Rose to play with her hair, trusting her to make it look flattering. "So," she began casually, "you and Septimus are official now?"
Rose, clearly unprepared for this question, blushed. "I suppose you could say that. He is very kind, Syrah. I know that you don't remember him well but he saved you on the Isles of Syren. Truly, I am surprised that he ever moved past you. He was quite taken with you, you know."
"Yes," Syrah said, a bit sharply. She did know. What she couldn't understand is why Septimus had spent such a great deal of time pining after her when he could have had Rose the entire time. Syrah was not unaware of the fact that she was considered attractive, even beautiful, by most people that encountered her but she did not possess that spark that she saw in Rose. She did not understand how Septimus could have ignored such a spark for so long but then, she did not understand much of what Septimus did or valued. In order to keep from hurting Rose's feelings though, she said, "I'll do my best to get to know him better. Perhaps tonight is a good time. I am grateful to him for all that he did for me."
Rose beamed. "That sounds wonderful. You know, I think so much of you and Hildegarde. I think that the four of us are going to have a grand time together. Now, have a look."
Syrah glanced into their mirror. Her long dark hair was pulled back into an elegant twist that exhibited her lovely throat. Rose had tied diamonds into her hair that complimented the silver dress she would be wearing for the occasion. She whistled in disbelief. "You're a genius, you know that don't you?"
Rose giggled, "Of course, I do." She said playfully. "Someone has to help you with that. It is such a waste. You have all of that beautiful hair and yet you do nothing with it."
Syrah was still staring into the glass, wondering what Hildegarde would have to say about her appearance. "Thank you, Rose," she said, giving her friend's hand a squeeze. "It really is perfect."
"Good. Now I've got to do mine. I told Septimus to pick me up here at seven so when he arrives, we shall all wait for Hildegarde."
Syrah glanced at the clock on the wall. "We've got a bit of time then." She hesitated and then asked the question that had been heavy on every Castle resident's mind since the ball had been announced. "Do you think she has found one?"
Rose was puzzled and a bit distracted, inquired, "Found what?"
Syrah was patient. "The Queen. Do you think she has her eyes on someone? Has she found a consort?"
Rose nodded passionately. "Septimus has told me a bit about that. He seems to really think that she has feelings for the Chief Hermetic Scribe. You know, the nice boy, Beetle. Most of the people who've mentioned it to me seem to think they'll be engaged by this time tomorrow. That is so bizarre to me. She's only fifteen. I know that isn't that unusual for Queens but it seems so young."
"Doesn't it though? You couldn't pay me to be Queen. I imagine she has lost so much freedom. There are so many expectations for her." Syrah thought of Queen Jenna. She always seemed so put together, so perfect. She was, in Syrah's opinion, like a porcelain doll, tiny, gorgeous, and cold. Though she had heard from others that Jenna had been kind and playful once, Syrah could not picture it. The young woman had grown into her role as Queen so efficiently that she seemed far older than her fifteen years. As Syrah was attracted to women, she could see why people would appreciate Queen Jenna from an aesthetic standpoint but she herself preferred a bit less perfection. She desired the company of a real woman, like Hildegarde, who was less intimidating rather than a doll that might break under harsh conditions.
Some time later, Syrah and Rose admired one another's dresses. Rose's was a blue velvet dress that clung to every curve of her figure and transformed her appearance from that of a pretty young girl to that of a stunning woman. Around her neck, she wore a pearl that Syrah knew she wore due to her love of the sea and all things related to it. Her chestnut hair fell demurely past her shoulders. Syrah's figure was slightly less voluptuous but her silver dress complimented her thin, petite frame and Rose's tricks with her hair left her looking impressive indeed.
"Oh," Rose sighed, "We look grown, don't we?" A brief expression of sadness seeped into Rose's green eyes. "We are grown now, aren't we?"
Syrah nodded. "Yes but that doesn't mean we have to become adults. I don't want to be an adult if it means that we must be frigid and serious all of the time. What is the point of living at all when you insist on being that way?"
Rose's smile returned and Syrah was relieved. "You're right. What was I thinking?" She turned to Syrah and embraced her warmly. "Tonight will be a night to remember."
Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Septimus." Rose said, and with a final glance in the mirror, she walked toward the door to greet him.
xxx
The ballroom was covered in gold. One would have thought, on first glance, that Marcellus Pye, the Castle Alchemist, had designed it himself. Rose, Syrah, and Hildegarde were all taken aback by the splendor of the ballroom and even, Septimus, who had seen it many times, had to admit that it was quite impressive. Syrah felt a sense of freedom as she entered the room. Here, she could do what she loved to do best-observe people from a distance. No one would know that it was her doing the watching either, as they were all wearing masks. Half the fun of a masquerade ball was trying to guess who was hiding behind each of the elaborate masks. Some were obvious, others much less so. She was easily able to pick out Marcellus in his extreme gold suit and bizarre shoes and Simon Heap and his wife, Lucy, who were standing beside him. Simon and Lucy had just had a baby and things were finally looking up for them. Simon had become Marcellus's apprentice just the year before and was doing extraordinarily. When she passed by them, she noticed that Lucy and Simon were standing as close as they possibly could to one another, as though they couldn't get enough of each other. Syrah was perplexed. She had come to fancy many women in her time but she had never known a love as passionate as Simon and Lucy's seemed to be. She felt an ache of something akin to loneliness begin to fill her core and she had to focus her attention on some other scene.
Rose was dancing with Septimus, who was holding her tightly and whirling her about in the center of the floor until she felt dizzy. Her excitement was uncontrollable. Was this what love was like? She didn't know. All she did know was that she had never before been so happy. After three consecutive dances, Septimus excused himself to get a refreshment and temporarily left his date to her own devices.
Septimus Heap looked quite handsome that evening. His long, straw colored hair had been neatly combed and his bright green eyes made his identity obvious to most partygoers. It was made even more obvious as, on his way to the refreshment table, a tall woman with a mass of ebony curls, an exquisite purple mask lined with golden glitter, and undoubtedly the most bizarre shoes at the party addressed him by saying, " Do stop making such a scene with Rose, Septimus!" much to his embarrassment.
On her own, Rose decided to walk to edge of the ballroom to inspect the golden designs on the wall. As she neared them, she determined that they were tiny golden fairies. She smiled with delight and drew closer to them. As she reached out to the touch them, another hand reached forward and grasped her. Rose nearly screamed but bit her tongue just in time and turned her attention to the young man standing in front of her. He was covered in black. His hair was dark and his mask was entirely black with few embellishments on it. His suit was entirely black and Rose was able to tell that he was extremely thin but not in a terrible way. She didn't pull her hand away, as she ought to have. Instead, she found his eyes and looked into them. She wasn't surprised by what she saw. They too, were dark but there was a depth in them that surprised her. Slowly, as if unsure of his current course of action, the young man bent forward and kissed Rose's delicate, long fingers. She had no idea who he was. She felt that she would go mad with curiosity if she didn't speak but he did so first. "You don't know me." He said, quietly, "But I know you. I came here tonight so that I could…." He paused, as though struggling with some feeling inside himself at which Rose could only guess. Even without being able to see his face, Rose could tell that he was losing his nerve. She was right. The young man released her hand and still spluttering, started to back away from her. Instinctively, Rose stepped forward and grasped his hand in hers. She could see surprise in his eyes.
"Don't be afraid." She said, soothingly. "Tell me, what is it? Why did you come? Who are you?"
The young man shook his head frantically. "I can't tell you that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I told you, you don't know me. I only know you. I just had to see you one more time. I've been watching you all night. I just….I guess I can't help myself. I would never have come back to this place at all if it weren't for you. This is all a huge mistake. I knew it would be." Rose could hear in his tone that he was trying to be strong and failing. She was intrigued.
"Please, tell me who you are. I'm sure I remember you. I remember everyone I've met, I promise."
The young man tore away from her. "You wouldn't want to remember me." He said sharply. "I need to leave and you do too. I've done what I came to do. I've….I…kissed you."
Rose tried to disagree with him when she heard Septimus calling her name. To her surprise, she found that she wished he were still at the refreshment table. She wanted a few more moments with this stranger, if only to learn his name. She turned to face Septimus, preparing to explain how she and the stranger had met but when she turned back to look at young man in black, she found that he had vanished. For the remainder of the evening, Rose felt a mixture of curiosity and emptiness in the pit of her stomach and, try as she might, she could no longer entirely focus on her evening with Septimus, despite the fact that she found him charming.
Meanwhile, as the party was reaching a fevered pitch in the ballroom, Jenna was in the midst of an intense conversation with Beetle on the Palace Balcony. There was a red velvet sofa on the Balcony and it was upon this sofa surrounded by the balcony's rose bushes that Jenna was now seated. Her legs were curled beneath her body and she was gazing up at Beetle. He eyes were twinkling and she seemed to have thoughts only of him. Beetle wanted to pinch himself to make certain that he was still alive. Jenna finally loved him! A year earlier, if someone had informed him that he would become the Chief Hermetic Scribe and win the love of Queen Jenna, he would never have believed it. Now, though, after years of living in the shadow of his best friend, Septimus, Beetle had finally come into his own and he was ready to pursue yet another one of his dreams. He cleared his throat slightly, "Jenna," he started, "thank you for such a wonderful evening. You really do throw the most amazing parties." Beetle paused, realizing that he sounded a bit silly and that Jenna looked as though she were going to laugh at any second. "But I have to ask, how much of this did Milo plan? It seems a bit grand, even for you."
Jenna smirked. "He was….helpful in making preparations."
Beetle chuckled. "I see. Good to know." There was another silence in which only the sound of crickets could be heard. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence but rather a peaceful one. Beetle directed his attention to the night sky above him. When he turned back to Jenna, his eyes were serious. "Jenna, I think you know what I want to ask you about. I…I guess I don't know exactly what you feel for me, if anything, but I want to confess that I…I have loved you unconditionally since the day we met. It was so long ago now. God, it must have been four years ago. I was nearly fourteen and you were just a kid. Remember that nasty Placement DomDaniel set up?"
Jenna shuddered. How could she forget what it was like to touch those horrible bones?
"Well, Jenna, that day, I kept calling you Princess and when we were up in Sep's bedroom, you asked me to call you Jenna. I never in my wildest dreams thought that you would be so…so modest. Here you were, heir to the throne with enormous responsibilities ahead of you and yet you wanted to be seen as equal to everyone else. You didn't think you were superior-ever. I had never met a girl like you. I was always amazed by your courage and strength. When we went on the Queste, you were always thinking of all of the things Sep and I were too silly to think of because you're more clever than both of us combined!" Beetle grinned, getting lost in his memories. "And when we were stuck on the Isles of Syren and spent all of that time together, I just wanted to tell you so badly that I loved you. I was afraid it was obvious, as though someone had written Beetle loves Jenna on my forehead in strawberry jam." He paused, embarrassed and Jenna reassured him by laughing out loud and reaching for his hand. He took hers in his and squeezed it tightly. "I…I never thought that you'd love me. I didn't consider it to be even a vague possibility. I always felt so ordinary. I also knew that a Queen could never marry a man with no status living a hand to mouth existence with his mother in the Ramblings." Beetle's voice faltered and Jenna squeezed his hand again, this time in sympathy. "I became jealous and bitter after I got fired from the Manuscriptorium. I knew then that I'd never have you but I couldn't stop dreaming. I didn't even think you loved me. You know, the best part about becoming Chief Hermetic Scribe was that at last I had a job that would befit the husband of the Queen. It didn't matter to me though because I thought that you didn't think much about me. My job didn't make much of a difference. Now I know better. Jenna, I've come here to ask you…well, I'm not the best with words but I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone and I only love you more each day." As Beetle spoke, he drew a beautiful gold ring from his pocket and, although Jenna had expected it, she gasped in delight. "Will you be my wife? I'll take care of you and be your partner in every aspect of life. I'll be the best father that I can be to our children. I'll…I'll…" Beetle, so lost in his passion, hadn't realized that Jenna's eyes were filled with tears. His voice trailed off and sadness stole over him. "What is wrong? Have I said something?"
Jenna did her best to wipe the tears away. "No, no, it isn't that. It is just everything that I dreamed it would be and more. Oh Beetle, yes…yes." Jenna pulled Beetle down so that his face was level with hers and she pressed his lips to his. Shocked, Beetle took a second to register what had happened before he returned her kiss. His luck was incredible.
When she pulled away, he asked, tentatively, "So that's it then? You want to marry me."
"Yes, Beetle. I could never do better and I'm not going to let you get away from me." Beetle, so moved by her words, pulled her into an embrace. They sat there together for some time, smiling and whispering sweet nothings to one another. They heard the ballroom behind them grow quiet and knew that the party was dying. It didn't matter to them. The world had shrunk to just the two of them that evening and that was all that they needed.
An hour after everyone had gone, Jenna said, "It is quite late. Do you think you want to stay over? We've got lots of rooms and I'd love it if you did."
Beetle shook his head regretfully. "I've got to meet Marcia at nine in the morning. If I didn't, I'd be right here, with you, all night long." He smiled at Jenna and leaned in to kiss her when he realized that something was wrong. "What is it, Jenna? You look upset."
The mention of Marcia had set Jenna on edge. She remembered her promise to her mother that she wouldn't reveal her plan to Beetle. She wanted to so badly but she knew he wouldn't understand. He still trusted Marcia and she didn't want to convince Beetle that she was crazy on the first night of their engagement. Her mother had promised that the people of the Castle would accept her necessary action after it had been carried out and she believed her. After all, talking to Beetle about it would only make her doubt what Cerys had said and, irksome though her mother could be at times, she was sure that she hadn't lied to her, not about something that important. She sighed, "Nothing, Beetle, I just don't want you to go."
"I'll be back tomorrow, Jenna, love, and we'll tell everyone that we're going to get married!" The joy in this statement washed away any of Jenna's thoughts about Marcia and she fell into Beetle's arms for a final kiss that Beetle knew he would feel on his lips until they met again.
xxx
The following morning, Beetle was walking toward the Wizard Tower when he heard a great commotion in the streets. He didn't think much of it as his thoughts were still on Jenna and the unbelievable fact that they were now engaged to be married. He couldn't even begin to think of all that that meant, all that it implied. He would have her forever. In his giddy state, Beetle accidently bumped into Milo Banda who was standing in the middle of Wizard Way. Beetle was surprised. He had suspected that Milo had been with Marcia late the evening before and it came as a shock to him that he was already wide awake and in the street. "Watch where you're going! Oh Beetle, hello!" His expression softened. "Jenna told me the news. I am so, so pleased. I couldn't have picked a better man myself."
Beetle flushed. "Thank you, Mr. Banda. I will do all that I can to make her happy, I promise you."
Milo smiled, "No need, son. You already do make her happy. Now, where are you heading off to in such a hurry? Won't you stay? The employees of Gothyk Grotto are about to put on a bit of a show for us here. I've been hearing that it is quite good and I think it would be a fun time for us."
Beetle hesitated. Watching a show did sound like a fun activity but he knew that Marcia would be furious if he was late and, after so recently attaining so much of her trust, he had no desire to lose it. "I would Milo but Marcia is waiting and you know how that is."
Milo shot Beetle a coy grin, "Marcia will be in a good mood this morning. Tell her that I detained you, that I insisted you watch the performance. We aren't the only ones. Look." Milo gestured across the crowd that had gathered in the middle of the street to where Marcellus Pye and his apprentice, Simon Heap, were standing. Beetle wasn't surprised to see them there.
Beetle laughed, "No offense, Mr. Banda, but I don't think that telling Marcia that they were here will make her feel any better about it."
"Maybe you're right. Just tell her I kept you then. You need a bit of fun every now and then, Beetle. It is good for you."
Beetle didn't need much persuading. He already felt too happy to work that morning and he was all too pleased to stay. "All right. I think that will work."
Milo slapped him on the back, "There's a good lad!" he said just as the crowd began to hush and the show commenced.
Igor, the proprietor of Gothyk Grotto, had begun to run out of money and, because he loved his store deeply, he had known that finding a new, more efficient method of earning money was the necessary course of action. Thus, he had invented the idea that his employees travel about the Castle putting on shows in the hours of the morning before the store opened in order to boost the store's notoriety. The show began with an acrobatic act by Marcus and Matt Marwick but this was not the act that anyone who watched the show discussed after it. Although the boys were undoubtedly impressive, the second and final act was the one that was inspiring the residents of the Castle to speak frequently about Igor's show.
Milo and Beetle beheld the Marwick brothers' double act with amusement but a bit of bewilderment too. Just as Beetle was about to proclaim that the show was "a bit weird." There was a rumble of drums and a thick cloud of black smoke appeared on the stage. From within the cloud of smoke, a young girl emerged.
It is impossible to describe the appearance of this girl and do her justice in words. She was exquisitely beautiful. She was not tall but the way that she carried herself and danced about the stage made her appear to be so. She had a voluptuous figure, cheeks like cherries, and skin like ivory. Her long, thick red hair fell halfway down her back and her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires. There was a bright innocence in those eyes that the crowd, in spite of themselves, could not resist. Milo stepped involuntarily away from the stage, muttering, "She's a witch!" After a moment, of standing inert, watching the young girl dance before them and sing a tune in a voice so lovely that every heart in the crowd was moved, Beetle realized that he knew her.
"Milo!" he gasped, "It is Marissa, the girl who joined both the Port Witch Coven and the Wendron Witch Coven before she moved to the Castle. She works at the grotte now! I don't know how I forgot. She always had such an interest in Jojo Heap. Sometimes, I think she's got an interest in everyone though. Just a few months ago, she was paying attention to me-"
But Milo Banda was not listening. Beetle glanced at his future father in law just in time to see Marissa holding his hand. She had paused in her dancing and had apparently selected him as her special guest to whom she would sing the most beautiful of her songs. It was beautiful, all about fleeting youth and the madness of love that makes every person in the world tremble both with ecstasy and pain. As she finished, almost everyone in the crowd had been brought to tears. Milo brought Marissa's hand to his lips and thanked her. She was suddenly self conscious and informed him that she had to go at once. Beetle noticed that Jojo Heap was standing on the edge of the crowd with his brother, Nicko. Jojo's expression betrayed his disgust and Nicko's indicated his utter delight at the scene he had just witnessed. Beetle felt ready to leave. Everyone had been so affected by Marissa's stunning beauty and charm. It unsettled him for some reason and he made his best effort not to look her in the eyes. However, oddly enough, he felt her piercing blue eyes on him and, unfortunately, even he was not able to resist them forever. When he knew that she would not stop looking, he finally glanced up and their eyes met. Marissa was standing near the Marwick boys, preparing to return to Gothyk Grotto. When Beetle's eyes met hers, she smiled. It was perhaps the prettiest smile that Beetle had ever seen. Beetle shuddered and looked away. There was something wrong with Marissa. No single woman should be as tempting as she is, he thought, it isn't right! "Come on, Milo," he said urgently, "Let's go. I've got to go and see Marcia and you have to come with me to tell her that you kept me here longer than I ought to have stayed. The show wasn't even good anyway." It almost hurt to say those last words because they were blatantly untrue but Beetle felt better about himself for having said them.
Milo shook his head. "You go on ahead." He said, "I want to stay here. Marcia will understand." He sounded distracted and completely disinterested. Just as Beetle was about to try another tactic to get Milo to come to the Wizard Tower with him, there was a gasp from one of the women who had been assembled during Gothyk Grotto production. "Look," she cried, and then she glanced in Beetle's direction with what was almost an accusatory stare, "that girl! That witch! She has written Beetle in the dirt!"
It was true. There, on the dirty pavement, Marissa had written his name. Beetle felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He suddenly forgot all about Milo Banda. All he knew was that he wanted to get away from Wizard Way and quickly. "I have to go." He said and started off down the street, well aware that Milo Banda was giving him one of the nastiest looks that he had ever received from anyone.
Beetle was relieved when at last he reached the shelter of the Wizard Tower but sadly, his relief did not last long. "Beetle," an unmistakable voice called from across the Great Hall, "Beetle, where have you been?" Beetle groaned. It was going to be a long morning indeed.
AN-Thank you again for reading! Next chapter, we will focusing more on some characters that we didn't focus on in this chapter. Everyone has twisted little secrets in my fics and we are going to uncover them all. :) I promise that it will all tie together. I have a big plan for this story.
