A Tale of Magic... (11 page)

“‘Elsune elknoon ahkelle-enama, delmune dalmoon ahktelle-awknamon,’”
she read aloud.

To her absolute amazement, hundreds upon hundreds of flowers had begun growing out of the walls around her. Once the walls were covered, the blossoms sprouted across the ceiling, the floor, and through the bookcases. Brystal screamed as the phenomenon spread across the table in front of her and she jumped out of her seat when she felt flowers grow out from under the chair.

“What… what…
what just happened
?” she asked in disbelief.

Brystal knew exactly what had happened; she just didn’t want to admit it. After reading a passage from a book about magic, she had unintentionally transformed the dull and windowless room into a vibrant and colorful floral wonderland. There was no other explanation for the change, but she rejected the implications with her entire being.

“No, no, no—this isn’t real!” Brystal told herself. “This is just a hallucination caused by sleep deprivation. In a few seconds it’ll all disappear.”

No matter how many deep breaths she took or how hard she rubbed her eyes, the flowers did not vanish. Brystal became dizzy and her hands trembled as the inconvenient reality began to sink in.

“I… I…
I can’t be
!” she thought aloud. “Of all the people in the world, this can’t be happening to
me
.… This can’t be who I am.… I have enough working against me as it is. I can’t be
magic
on top of it all!”

Brystal was desperate to destroy all the evidence that proved otherwise. She hurried to the ground level of the library and returned with the largest wastebaskets she could find. She frantically pulled all the flowers out of the walls and floor and furniture, and didn’t pause until every petal and leaf had been tossed away and the Justices’ room was back to normal. Brystal placed
The Truth About Magic
on its shelf and dragged the wastebaskets out of the private library. She closed the wide metal door behind her with the intention of never returning, as if she could keep the truth locked inside.

“This all has to be a big misunderstanding,” she said to herself. “If I was magical—or a
fairy
, as the author put it—there would have been signs! A
fairy
would know they were different.… A
fairy
would have trouble blending in.… A
fairy
would spend their whole life feeling like they didn’t belong.
Oh, shut up, Brystal! You’ve just described yourself!
”

In many ways, having magic in her blood made sense. Brystal had always been so different from everyone she knew—perhaps magic was the source of her uniqueness? Perhaps she had always wanted more out of life because, deep down inside, she knew there
was
more to her life.

“But why did it take me so long to find out?” she asked herself. “Was I completely oblivious, or has a part of me known all along? Then again, I live in a kingdom that keeps
all
forms of knowledge from young women. Maybe this just proves how efficiently the Justices are oppressing their people. And if I wasn’t a menace to society before, I certainly am now.”

And now that she knew the truth, would it be easy for others to figure it out, too? Would her classmates smell it on her as easily as her other differences? Was it possible to hide magic, or would it inevitably resurface and expose her? And if it did, would it finally give her father the right to disown her and send her away for good? The dangers were endless.

“No reason,” he said with a smile. “You’ve just seemed a little tense lately. And I’ve noticed you haven’t been spending as much time at the Home for the Hopeless as usual. Is there anything you need to talk about?”

“Oh, I’ve just decided to take a little break,” she said. “Something happened—nothing serious, of course—but I thought a little distance would be helpful. It would give me a chance to think about things and figure out what to do next.”

“Figure out what to do next?” Barrie asked with concern. “All right, now you
have
to tell me what’s going on so my imagination doesn’t fill in the blanks.”

Brystal was so exhausted from worrying that she didn’t have the energy to put on a show. So she told her brother a story that was as close to the truth as possible without giving anything away.

“I recently discovered something about myself that’s a little hard to live with,” she said.

Barrie’s eyes went large. “And that is?”

“Well, I… I… I’m not sure
I like charity anymore
.”

Barrie did a double take at his sister’s odd response.

“You’ve been tense because you
don’t like charity anymore
?” he asked.

“Um…
yes
,” Brystal said with a shrug. “And quite frankly, I’m not certain how much longer I’ll be able to hide it. Now that I know, I’m afraid other people are going to find out, too. I’m terrified about what might happen to me if I’m ever exposed.”

“
Exposed?
But, Brystal, disliking charity isn’t illegal. It’s just a preference.”

“I know, but it’s
practically
a crime,” she exclaimed. “The world is very cruel to
people who don’t like charity
—but that’s just because they’re misunderstood. Society thinks that
disliking charity
is the same as
disliking kindness
, when in reality,
disliking charity
and
disliking kindness
are very, very different! Oh, Barrie—I wish I could tell you just how different they are, because it’s fascinating! One of the greatest misconceptions of our time!”

According to the expression on her brother’s face, he might have been less concerned if she had just told him the truth. Barrie was looking at his sister like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown, and to be fair, she was.

“How long have you
disliked charity
?” he asked.

“Almost a week,” she said.

“And do you remember the incident that changed your mind?”

“Yes, it all started when I accidentally covered a room in flowers,” she said, forgetting to alter her story. “Um—I mean, there was a homeless woman who was feeling ill, so I filled her room with flowers to cheer her up. But it was the wrong room—a room I honestly had no business being in. So I had to throw all the flowers away before someone caught me.”

“Right…,” Barrie said. “But prior to that moment, you had never disliked charity before, had you?”

“Not at all,” she said. “Before that, I didn’t think I was capable of disliking charity.”

“Then that settles it,” he said. “You just had a bad day. And you should never let one day change who you are. We can never be certain about anything in life—especially if we only experience it once.”

“We can’t?” Brystal asked with hopeful eyes.

“Of course not,” Barrie said. “If I were you, I would go back to the Home for the Hopeless and give charity another try to make sure you genuinely dislike it. Then, and only then, would I worry about being
exposed
for it.”

Although her brother had no idea what was really bothering her, Brystal thought he had given her excellent advice. After all, it took more than one trip on a boat to turn someone into a sailor—maybe magic was similar? Perhaps it would take years of practice before she had to worry about it putting her life in danger. And like Barrie suggested, there was always the chance the whole ordeal had been a fluke and would never happen again. Right or wrong, for her own sanity, Brystal had to find out.

The following night after she finished cleaning the library, Brystal returned to the Justices’ private library on the second floor. She put her reading glasses on, retrieved
The Truth About Magic
by Celeste Weatherberry from the shelf, and turned to the page with the ancient text. After a deep breath and a silent prayer, she read the incantation aloud to prove whether she was a fairy, once and for all.

“‘Elsune elknoon ahkelle-enama, delmune dalmoon ahktelle-awknamon.’”

Brystal was afraid to look and covered her eyes. At first, she didn’t feel or hear anything, so she peeked at the room through her fingers. Nothing appeared to have changed in the slightest, and Brystal’s spirits began to soar. She watched the walls with bated breath, waiting for the flowers to materialize again, but they never came. Tears filled her eyes and she let out a sigh of relief that turned into a long, thankful laugh.

“Barrie was right,” she said. “We should never let
one day
change who we—”

Suddenly, the pages of
The Truth About Magic
started to glow. Bright orbs of white light slowly rose from the book and filled the dark room. As the orbs spread out, they became smaller and smaller, creating the illusion of depth in every direction, and soon the private library resembled a limitless galaxy.

Brystal got to her feet and looked around the room in amazement. Not only had she confirmed the magic in her veins, but she never imagined she was capable of creating such a beautiful sight. The magic was transcendent, and Brystal forgot where she was. It didn’t feel like she was standing in the private library anymore, but floating through her very own starry universe.

“MISS BAILEY! WHAT IN THE NAME OF CHAMPION ARE YOU DOING?!”

The voice startled Brystal, and all the orbs throughout the room instantly vanished. When her eyes adjusted, Brystal saw the metal door had swung open without her noticing. Mr. Woolsore was standing in the doorway with two armed guards, and all three men were staring at her like she was the foulest creature they had ever seen.

“That’s the girl I’ve been warning you about!” Mr. Woolsore shouted, and he pointed a shaky finger at her. “I’ve been telling you for months that she was up to something! But none of you believed me! You said I was mad for believing a young girl was capable of such things! Now look—
we’ve caught a witch in the act
!”

“Mr. Woolsore!” Brystal said. “Wait, I can explain! This isn’t what it looks like!”

“Save your lies for the Justice, witch! You’ve been caught red-handed!” the librarian yelled, and then turned to the guards. “Don’t just stand there, seize her before she casts another spell!”

Brystal had imagined many scenarios where she was caught in the Justices’ private library, but she never imagined it would happen while she was
conjuring magic
. Before she had the chance to defend herself further, the guards charged toward her and forcefully grabbed her by the arms.

“No! You don’t understand!” she pleaded. “I’m not a witch! Please, I’m begging you! Let me prove it!”

As the guards dragged Brystal out of the room, Mr. Woolsore snatched the reading glasses off her face and snapped them in two.

“You won’t be needing these where you’re going,” he said.
“Take her away!”