Chapter Twelve

Willow stood frozen in shock for a split second before she bared her teeth in a snarl. "What are you doing?!" she demanded.

"Testing your resolve, girl," Feronia replied lightly, as if she were discussing the weather. "Keep your staff. You'll need it."

"Lady Feronia, I have nothing but respect for you," Willow said cautiously, her thoughts whirling. "And I have always wanted to join the Plant Coven. So please leave us alone. I don't want to hurt you."

Feronia laughed warmly, like a kindly grandmother. "Oh, sweet child," she said in an identical tone. Then she lifted a hand with her fingers splayed and turned it at the wrist so that each finger formed a separate spell circle in one fluid movement. The ground shook and roiled as massive wooden forms burst from the soil at her sides and back, resolving into the black wood of ironmaiden trees. "You think you can hurt me."

The ironmaiden trees' trunks burst open like hinged doors to reveal their hollow centers bristling with thick, wickedly sharp barbs. And more than that, the hollow insides released a deep roar like some vicious monster of the Isles.

"Willow! Run!" Hunter shouted, struggling against the roots that held him. Lil Rascal retracted into his bird shape and tried to get to him, but another root lashed out and trapped him with an outraged tweet.

"Come on, Ms. Park," Feronia said encouragingly. "Aren't you tired of running, or restraining your power?" She began walking to Willow's right, her visible eye never leaving the witchling. "Your teacher speaks highly of your talent. Do show me if she was right."

Willow thought furiously. If she ran, Hunter would be at this woman's mercy — and that was unacceptable. If she fought, there was no way she could win. But … maybe if she went along with it, she could find a way to free Hunter and Lil Rascal? Maybe … Whatever she did, her best chance was to fight.

Besides, this woman had the gall to attack her and her … romantic acquaintance? That would not stand. She would protect those she loved!

Willow whirled her staff in a large circle before her, feeling Clover amplify her power, and spitting trumpet flowers formed in a curved line before Feronia. Their flowers closed and swelled up to thrice their former size before erupting with streams of steaming acid. But not all at once — the attacks were staggered and scattered throughout the line.

Feronia twitched a finger and one of her ironmaiden trees twisted and bent over her with surprising speed and a nauseating creaking sound to intercept the streams of fluid, its bark smoking from the holes chewed into it by the acid. The tree righted itself and Feronia flicked her hand to trace a quick circle.

Willow formed her own circle and crawlway vines sprang up to evelop her and drag her underground … just as the trunk of another ironmaiden clamped down over where she had been a split second before.

"Clever girl," Feronia whispered. Then she leapt to the side with surprising grace as a four-eyed predator flower burst form behind her and lashed out to snap her up in its jaws. Only for its flower to be consumed by an ironmaiden's truck and ripped from the ground. Feronia wasted no time to watch as she spun on the ball of her foot in a graceful pirouette to avoid a barrage of woody spikes from a ballista shrub, Willow busy weaving her magic to fire more.

Feronia smiled and performed her trick again, conjuring five spell circles at once, and from vines draped around her ironmaidens swelled woody balls covered in slender spines, the Morgenstern burr. The burrs were launched with the speed of cannonballs and Willow had barely any time to trigger her vaulting vines — the spring-like flowers she had used to play with Luz and Gus after their grudgby match against Boscha — to avoid the barrage of seeds. The ground and her plant were torn apart by the weighted spiked balls like paper.

"Oh, a fatal error," Feronia tutted as she traced a circle. A cluster of vines — notably lacking thorns — burst from the ground and lashed up to ensnare Willow. In the air and without wings, anyone would be powerless to defend herself. Unless, of course, one had a staff. As Clover swung her around and onto the shaft of her staff, Willow flared magic into the seed she'd hidden in her other hand, which burst into a cluster of her own thorny vines that she swung like cat o'nine tails to knock away Feronia's attack. Then she dropped and landed with a grunt and a roll before taking her feet and summoning a spine tree to stop any further attacks, the ribbed trunk quickly riddled with sword-like thorns from a sabrethorn shrub.

Willow looked up to find her own tree falling upon her and leapt to one side. With a twirl of her staff, Willow simultaneously traced a spell circle and deflected a blast of fire from a blazing bush — a trick Eda had taught her and Gus after they'd earned their staves — and then slammed the butt of her staff to the ground to activate the spell. Kraken shrub tentacles burst from the ground in a circle around Feronia and attacked to ensnare her, but she severed them all with a wave of raw magic.

Panting heavily and sweat dripping from her brow, Willow spun her staff and summoned a patch of mixed snaring and sleeping nettles, the former lashing out at Feronia and the latter exploding into a cloud of spores to put her to sleep. Or at least slow her movements and thinking.

Feronia held her breath and conjured a pair of howling trees, the bores in their trunks producing loud, gale-force winds and blowing away the fog of sleeping smoke, along with vines that intercepted and held the snares. And with a flick of her wrist to trace a circle, three four-eyed predatory flowers erupted up and struck out at Willow who seemed too stunned to move in time.

No, not stunned. The image of Willow burst into a swirl of rose petals — a cleverly crafted duplicate she must have switched with when Feronia's vision was obscured by the smoke. Which begged the question: Where was the real Willow?

Feronia yelped as her legs and hips were jerked into the ground at the same time Willow burst up from behind her. With her staff clutched in her off-hand, Willow shouted a piercing war cry as she swung her other hand — balled into a fist and wrapped in thorny wood — at her head.

On instinct, Feronia wrapped her own hand in woody vines and caught the makeshift boxing glove, then caught Willow's wrist as she tried to swing down her staff and bash the woman's head in. But Willow wasn't done. She used those grips to swing her head forward and crash her skull into Feronia's nose with a sickening crunch.

Feronia was stunned, blinking dumbly as her eyes watered, and Willow felt a flare of satisfaction in the results of her gambit. Then Feronia tightened her grip into something crushing and Willow cried out in pain. And her lapse in focus from the pain unraveled her glove of vines, which freed Feronia's hand to trace a circle that wrapped Willow in vines, separated her from Clover, and for good measure swung her around to suspend her upside down.

Willow gasped in fear as her glasses fell off and the image of Feronia's piercing gaze became blurry. She fought not to wince as she prepared herself for whatever torments the head witch — the only head witch and coven leader to be called "Lady"— would dole out to her. Wrapping her in snaring nettles? Feeding her to four-eyed predator flowers? Dousing her with the juices of hacking trumpets? Or maybe she'd use some fascinatingly terrifying plant Willow had never read about?

Or she could chuck her and Hunter into the maws of those ironmaiden trees.

The image of Hunter being tossed into those gaping maws came to her mind's eye and she paused in horror … and she snapped. Before, she had to keep a level head to have a chance against a head witch. But now? Now she had nothing to lose. Just like against the Scarbury, Willow shrieked with rage as the power of the Titan surged up and into her straight from the source.

Slap!

The power of the Titan, of raw, wild magic, slipped away. Willow was stunned at the feel of stinging on her cheek, just simple stinging from an open-handed blow and not the burn of any number of toxic oils from any number of plants.

"There's no need for that, Dear," Feronia said gently, and Willow was flipped back right side-up and her glasses replaced. Her vision realigned upon Feronia's smiling face, her nose swelling from Willow's headbutt. "Why don't I have your friend join us, hmm?" She traced a quick circle and Hunter yelped as he was lifted to their position and dropped like a sack of scarrots.

Hunter got to his feet and leveled a fearsome glare at Lady Feronia. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now." Willow gasped at the words, delivered with such simple truth.

Feronia's eyes flashed. "Is that any way for a child to speak to a head witch, Dearie?" she asked pointedly, a strange gleam in her eyes.

Hunter's eyes widened and his lips peeled back in a silent snarl before he took a deep breath and let it out. "Apologies, Lady Feronia," he said harshly. "Forgive my rash words, but I don't like watching my friends be attacked." He rubbed at the welts on his wrists. "Or, you know, being threatened and stuff."

"Quite alright, Dearie," she said in a matronly way with her hands folded at her waist, like she had acted back at Hexside. "I do apologize for the theatrics. And to be clear, neither of you were in any real danger."

"Then why did you do this?" Willow asked cautiously.

"To test you, Dear," Feronia said with a smile. "You, Willow Park, are the main reason I accepted Mrs. Kissiae's invitation as a guest speaker for Hexside. We have been corresponding for some time, and every now and again she would mention her 'star pupil' who has exceeded her every expectation." Willow blushed at the words, too stunned to speak. "And I had to see your so-called talents for myself."

"But that's not all, is it?" Hunter asked pointedly. "No coven head would act like this out of simple curiosity."

"The Golden Guard would beg to differ, I think," Feronia said slyly, and Hunter stepped back as if he'd been stung. She smiled and continued. "It's true, it was not mere curiosity." She looked Willow in the eyes. "Ms. Park, I am an old woman and I have worked for the Emperor for decades." The age lines that creased her face seemed to deepen as she spoke, as if she were aging before their very eyes. Then she took a breath and smiled and the effect was gone. "I have taught many witches in my time, but for the last few years I have been looking for ... an apprentice."

"Apprentice?" Willow asked.

"Someone to groom as a true successor," Feronia explained. "Someone who shares my innate bond with plants, and who has the potential to commune with the Green."

"The Green is real?!" Willow blurted in shock.

"Indeed it is, Dear," she said with a wider smile. "And I believe you have the innate talent to connect to it." She took a breath and the leaves all around them seemed to stir with no wind. "Willow Park, I would ask you to become my apprentice."

Eun hummed tunelessly as he entered his and Gilbert's apartment. He was surprised to find the apartment empty, no Willow tending to her garden or finishing her homework. Hadn't she said she would be home right after school today?

Eun chuckled as he considered where she might be. Every idea involved that boy of hers, Hunter Strong.

Eun pressed his lips a bit tighter at the thought. He had nothing against Hunter at all. The boy seemed cagey, but what smart teenage boy wouldn't be to the fathers of the girl he was clearly enamored with. And Eun was no fool; he knew that his little girl and the boy shared powerful feelings for one another.

It reminded him of his school days.

Eun paused as he began to put his coat up, mind cantering down that jackalope trail. He dropped his coat and moved to a small cupboard. Opening it, he moved a few things until he found two leather bound books that he took to the couch. One was a Hexside yearbook that he flipped through idly for a short while and then put away.

The other … was a photo album. He opened it and looked upon pictures of his little Willow, swaddled in a yellow blanket and caught mid-laugh in the arms of a lovely woman with chestnut skin and round, green eyes. Gilbert was in several of the photos, crying with no shame.

Eun felt tears begin to well in his eyes as he gently closed the album. He sniffled and brushed his eyes as old pains of the heart flared up and then subsided again. "With love comes loss, and those pains never truly leave us. Just as those we love and lose never truly leave us." The woman in the albums had told him that with a kind smile and tears in her own eyes.

As Eun returned the yearbook and album to their place, he hoped and prayed that Willow would not have to suffer those pains any time soon.

"Absolutely not!" Hunter spat.

"Hunter!" Willow scolded, stunned by the venom in his words. What was going on with him?

"I wasn't asking you, Dearie," Feronia said with a dry look. "I'm certain you of all people know how hard it is having your choices in life made for you." Again Hunter flinched and looked away as if in pain. "Ms. Park?" she asked.

"I-" Willow stumbled over her words. "I-I don't know."

Feronia smiled again and nodded. "I understand. It is a big decision. And unless I miss my guess, you are concerned about how it will impact your relationship with your friends. Such as the semi-outlaw human and her teacher." Feronia lifted the fingers of one hand in an unmistakable gesture of consolation. "I assure you, Ms. Park, that your chosen company does not impact my offer. As old as I am, I know how crucial it is to have people you trust surrounding you."

Feronia nodded her head and turned to leave. "My offer stands, Dear. If you choose to take it up, I will be returning midweek and on Friday. Or if you need longer to think, merely ask Mrs. Kissiae to inform me and we can begin our lessons." She took a few more steps before she continued. "And feel free to discuss this with your friends, too. I'm sure they will give excellent counsel." With that, she continued walking and disappeared into the treeline.

Willow was tense for a little while longer before she started to relax. And then exhaustion washed over her like a wave and she stumbled to her knees. "Willow!" Hunter said, kneeling and helping her stay upright. "Are you okay?"

"Tired," she mumbled blearily. "That was a lot of magic in very little time."

"You're gonna be okay," Hunter said soothingly, even as his voice cracked from worry. It made Willow smile, the evidence that he cared so much. She took a deep breath and forced herself to her feet.

"I'll be fine," she said. Clover expanded into her staff and gently slipped behind Willow's thighs to lift her off her feet. "Thank you, Clover," Willow said, patting the palisman. She looked at Hunter. "Care to join us?"

Hunter smirked and settled onto Clover's staff form. Lil Rascal twittered and expanded before slipping in beside Clover, widening their partners' seats. Hunter patted his cardinal friend and wrapped an arm around Willow's waist. Willow sighed contentedly and leaned into Hunter, savoring the strength of his frame.

"I wouldn't mind dinner," Willow said.

"What?" Hunter asked.

"As a first date," she explained. "But not some fancy, expensive place. There's a small restaurant in Bonesborough owned by a kindly old witch and demon. They serve the best audumbla roast I've ever had."

Hunter's stomach growled. "That sounds pretty good." He smirked. "But maybe not tonight. You've been through a lot and you're tired. Rightly so." He pulled her a little closer and she snuggled into him, placing a hand on his chest. "How about we take you home and we try, uh, Friday?"

"Friday," Willow agreed. She looked up and caught Hunter's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Willow," he said, his voice cracking like his cocky facade.

"Sorry?" she asked. "For what?"

"Feronia had me tied up and I didn't help," he said, anger palpable in his voice. "I failed you."

"Hunter!" Willow said, straightening and turning to face him, crossing her legs for balance. She took the side of his face in her hand and fixed him with a steely look. "You're a teen witch. She's a coven leader. It's not your fault."

He looked down in shame. "I should have done something."

Willow's eyes widened. "She had this planned out," she realized, seizing upon the thought. "Hunter, she had planned for if someone was with me. She would have tied you even tighter." She smiled a little and stroked her thumb over his jaw. "I don't blame you, Hunter. And you shouldn't blame yourself." She gently lifted his chin to face her. "Please don't blame yourself."

Hunter looked past the glass into those jade green eyes and felt himself relax again. "Okay. I won't blame myself." Willow smiled and he felt his heart soar. "Now let's get you home."

Clover shrunk back into her base form and flew to perch on Willow's shoulder, nuzzling her partner. Willow turned around to face the front of the staff, Lil Rascal's perch, and she squeaked when she felt Hunter's arms wrap around her and hold her close. "Shall we?"

Willow laughed with joy as they soared into the night.

Back on the ground, the spy Phlegming stepped out of the treeline. "How interesting," he said with the faintest of smiles. A smile that turned into a cry of fear as he felt his ankles jerked from beneath him. He was flipped to hang upside down and vines wrapped around his hands and clenched them tight to stop him casting a spell.

From the shadows stepped Lady Feronia, her grandmotherly air different from before — more scolding than inviting. "Good evening," she said neutrally.

"Lady Feronia?" Phlegming said, feigning confusion. "What are you doing here? What is this?"

"Oh child, stop with the playacting. I'm old, not a fool." She stepped closer, faint green eyes harder than steel. "Who has you spying on Willow Park?"

"Spying?" he said. "I- Hold on, who is 'Willow Park'?"

"You mean to tell me you don't know the name of the two children I watched you observing since they left the school?" she asked in a tone one uses with a child caught in a lie. "So let's try again, hmm?" She closed her fingers into a claw and the vines tightened to bone-cracking pressure that had him choking back a scream.

"Shall we have one more chance? Who ordered you to spy on Willow Park?"

"Someone above your paygrade," Phlegming said stonily.

Feronia smirked and gestured with her fingers to lower him a little. She reached up to the hem of his glove and lifted it to reveal an Emperor's Coven brand. "Ah, interesting." She let the glove go and held her chin in her fingers. "You know, I always thought your agents took orders from either the Emperor himself or the coven head; in this case, the Golden Guard."

Phlegming narrowed his eyes. "My orders come from the top," he said.

"To muscle in on the Golden Guard's task?" Feronia asked innocently. "My, how strange."

"The-?" The spy shut up as he picked up on the implications, his eyes growing as large as they could be. "You're saying that boy-?"

"Was the Golden Guard, yes," Feronia said derisively. "And he is on an assignment approved by the Emperor."

"He's spying on her," Phlegming surmised, his face twisting with dread.

"Yes. Of course, you could call me a liar," Feronia pointed out. "The only person who really knows is the Emperor. And as I'm certain you know, any of the major coven heads may call a meeting with the Emperor to report conflicts of interest." Feronia grinned wickedly. "How certain are you that he would support you?" She raised an eyebrow. "And might I ask, who personally offered the assignment?"

Phlegming remained silent.

"As I suspected," she said. "You won't tell who it was, but you no longer believe that your mission is sanctioned. So here's what is going to happen." Feronia lifted him closer. "Continue your unofficial mission. Gather evidence. And when she, as we both know who it is, calls you for your report to the Emperor … leave her hanging. And I will vouch for your work." She smiled. "Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," he grumbled.

"See you tomorrow?" Willow asked from her doorway.

"Promise," Hunter grinned. He leaned in and gave a peck on the lips before someone cleared their throat. Both teens looked back into the house to find Gilbert giving a level look.

"Uh … Hi, Mr. Park," Hunter said nervously.

"Strong," Gilbert replied.

Hunter hesitated for a split second and then swooped in for a kiss on the cheek before disappearing in a flash of yellow magic. Willow gasped and placed her fingers against the spot he'd kiss before giggling as her cheeks bloomed with pink. She closed the door and wished her dad a good night — calling a good night to her papa, too — before heading to bed.

On the far side of the city stood a large manor that held the apartment suites for the leaders of the major covens. They were customized to fit the needs and tastes of each leader, such as a rustic log cabin motif for Heph the Construction head or a large, stone-motif alchemy lab for Cicero, the leader of the Potions Coven.

Lady Feronia's quarters, somewhat predictably, looked like a massive indoor garden. A well-read human might compare them to the lost hanging gardens of Babylon, with large, ornate plant boxes hanging from delicate-looking chains as well as lining the wooden walls. In the main room, in front of a roaring fireplace, the lady herself sat in a comfortable wicker chair and watched the flames with a glass of apple blood in hand.

And then some instinct warned her she was not alone.

"Don't be shy," she said with levity in her voice. "Come, sit. Warm yourself by the fire. We can't have the Emperor's right hand freezing, now can we?"

The Golden Guard, in all his regalia and bearing his mechanical staff, strode into the open and stood with his back to the fire, the focusing gem atop his staff crackling with red light. "You know why I am here."

"Of course, Dearie," she said smiling. "You want to warn me away from Ms. Park." She stood slowly and languidly, audible crackling with every movement that did not come from the fireplace. "And that, right there, is why I will not."

"Because you're old?" the Golden Guard asked snidely.

"Yes!" Feronia snapped, her voice colder than the Guard had ever heard it. "Do you know, Golden Guard, how many leaders each of the main covens have had?"

He was silent as he thought over all of the history books he'd read over the years. "Offhand, it probably averages out at ten each."

"More or less," Feronia confirmed. "And do you know how many the Plant Coven has had."

"Just you," the Guard said.

"Oh for the Titan's sake, boy, take off that ridiculous mask. I already know what you look like, so at least be civil in my home."

The Golden Guard paused and sighed before lowering his hood and removing his mask. "Better?" Hunter asked dryly.

"Much," Feronia replied, taking a sip of her drink. "As I was saying, I am the only one who has led the Plant Coven during Belos's reign; for fifty years." She gave a rattling sigh. "And I am old. I am tired. I want to live out the rest of my days in peace without expense reports or membership quotas or …" she shivered "... blasted paperwork."

Hunter shrugged in agreement.

"I have searched so long for someone I believed would lead my coven well." She looked up at Hunter, locking eyes with him. "And I believe she is the one."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because she can feel the Green, even if she does not realize it."

"You're talking about wild magic," Hunter realized.

"I'm talking about magic," Feronia said sharply. "With all due respect, the Emperor believes, quite erroneously, that magic can be split into black and white, wild and tamed, good and bad. But it is all tied together. And that girl is the first in decades that I have seen who could touch the Green and feel it. Feel the balance of flora and fauna on the Isles. Understand it." She took a drink. "And you would deny her this?"

"I know what it's like to be a coven head," he said.

"And you wish to spare her the negatives," Feronia surmised. "A sweet gesture. But what of the positives? She could affect change, guide one of the major covens to fruitful abundance," she smiled at her play on words, "and she would be loyal to the next Emperor."

"I just want her to be happy," Hunter admitted.

"Perhaps the best way for her to be happy is for her to make her own choices," Feronia suggested. She raised her hands, the fingers of one still holding her drink tumbler. "I swear to you upon the Titan and the Green that I will not try to force her. Tempt her, yes of course. But it will always have been her decision to make. Which, of course, is the point." She lifted her drink in salute. "Good night, child. Rest easy for school." She sat and resumed looking at the fire, as he were no longer there.

When Hunter had replaced his mask and hood and flown from the window, she glanced to the side and smiled. "Perhaps the Isles will have a strong empress as well?"

Chapter twelve! I hope the cliffhanger wasn't TOO hard to handle. And I hope the payoff was worth it.

*Morgenstern, lending its name to my Morgenstern burrs, is the German term for morningstar, as in the mace style. The burrs areheavy and terrifying spiked balls, so it seemed appropriate.

*Spine trees have trunks ridged like a spinal column. I actually made them up for Talus Falls and I'm glad they made a comeback.

*Kraken shrubs are based on one of the plants Willow took off her window sill to protect from boiling rain in "The Intruder".

*Audumbla is my take on the Boiling Isles equivalent of cow or beef. It was named after the primeval cow that freed Buri, Odin's grandfather, from the ice while suckling Ymir the first giant - who was killed by Odin and his brothers and his carcass fashioned into Midgard, a clear influence on the Boiling Isles setting.

*Phlegming - a macabre take on the name Fleming that I actually "appropriated" from the film Osmosis Jones, is named after Ian Fleming, the author of the original James Bond novels. Three guesses why, hehehehe.

I hope you all liked this! Leave a review and tell me what struck a chord, they make me so happy! Carry on you wonderful OH fans!