Chapter Six
Andi
The moon stands alone in the cloudy night sky.
Even with the wind, the air is still pleasantly warm.
I grip hold of my hair and slap the loose strands away from my face.
Leaning over the garden wall, I gulp in deep breaths, trying to slow down my heart.
I pause, grounding myself scratch the rough stone beneath my fingers, the warm breeze blowing in my face, and the crickets chirping in the bushes.
I don’t know where to go. Myles is in town, and as much as my heart yearns for him, I can’t see him. Not while my blood still boils. Misty’s saddle will take too long to put on by myself, and I don’t want to risk anyone hearing.
Apprehensively, I glance up at the woods.
I know those woods like the back of my hand; no one would find me if I didn’t want them to. No one except Wyatt, that is. Urging my feet forward, I blow out a deep breath before hurrying into the woods I have been evading for so long.
A jittery feeling overwhelms me, but I push aside the urge to run back to the safety of my home and continue into the woods that are filled with memories. The forest aroma fills my senses, the earthy fragrance takes me back to a familiar time, a safe time, a happy time. I can almost taste it.
The sun peeks its head over the horizon as the wilderness wakes up in vibrant colours. I skid to a stop, staring at the lake stretching out before me. The same lake where Dad taught us all to swim, where he took us to fish, the place he knew we would disappear to when we needed to escape.
I haven’t found the courage to come out this far since he died. I fall to the ground and sob as the memories I tried so hard to suppress, flood me.
Hours pass as I stare out at the lake, getting lost in a trance, watching the ducks on the still waters creating gentle ripples as they dive for fish.
The wind gently ruffles the leaves of the surrounding trees.
Closing my eyes, breathing in the calmness, a warm sensation creeps up my spine.
I open my eyes to find a white fire shimmering on my hands, my eyes blink repeatedly, and I wonder if I’m seeing things. But the flame never leaves.
I curl my fingers around, admiring its radiance.
The white flickering orb spirals between my fingers.
I squeeze the fire into my shaking fist and watch as the flame snakes up my arm, leaving a glittering trail of spins and corkscrews.
My heart pounds in my ears, and I force deep breathes into my lungs to calm my shaking body.
The flame disappears into the palm of my hand. I gasp as it’s replaced by a purple ombre flower, which blossoms in my hand. I set its silky petals on the ground and watch in awe as the wilderness changes and grows at my touch.
Trees sprout branches and luscious green leaves.
Smaller trees mature and thicken as if they have aged ten years in seconds.
Bushes around me bloom with fresh fruit, bursting from every stem.
I pick a strawberry and bite into it. Its sweet juices delight my taste buds.
I can’t recall when I tasted such delicious fruit.
Not since that day when our garden surprisingly bloomed, crammed with enormous produce, the ones we desperately needed to sell… The last time I removed my necklace.
Pushing myself off the ground, I will the white embers to appear on my hands again.
My heart flutters as it answers my call, sparkling in my hand once more.
Marvelling at this new gift, I wonder why something so beautiful needed to be hidden.
I’m captivated by its beauty as it spins around my arm.
I throw my hand and watch as the fire lashes out like a rope, lassoing around tree branches, burning through the wood.
I flinch as the fire burns away a circle on the grass, devouring everything in its path in a matter of seconds.
My hands tighten into balls in front of me, my nails digging into my palms. I stare at my hands in disbelief. This power… it’s like nothing I could ever imagine. My skin buzzes with anticipation, needing to see more. To know what else I can do, how far this magic can go.
I call on the flames again and a small ball of fire appears, the size as a rose bud, it wriggles on my open palm and I throw the little fireball up in the air and it explodes into fireworks.
White glistening stars radiating a rainbow of colours in the sun’s reflection.
The fire sparkles and dances across the blue sky until it flickers and ebbs into nothing.
Returning to me, it curls into a ball in the palm of my hand.
Twigs snap from behind me, the iridescent flame escapes my hands, and a figure dives to the ground, just as the fire crashes into a tree.
“Misneach!” Wyatt’s booming voice echoes from the ground. Poking his head up, he checks if it’s safe, “Andi? What the…”
“You scared me. I’m sorry, are you okay?” I gawp at my hands, slumping to the ground.
Wyatt creeps out from his hiding place and cautiously walks towards me.
“I need to tell you something… insane.”
I blurt out everything to him. Wyatt stares at me, not talking for what feels like forever. I try to call the magic to my hands again to show him, but it flickers into a puff of smoke.
“Wait, wait, let me see if I have this right. You have magic, and you’re a princess?” he asks. He rubs his eyes; the once icy blue pupils now dulled by red. I shrug, having no answers for him.
“What has your mum said about it?” Wyatt rubs his neck.
“After Myles’ wild accusations yesterday, I told her, and she agreed it was ridiculous. But then…” Thinking back, her jaw had twitched slightly, and her eyes had widened for a split second before returning to her usual impassive expression.
Was I so blinded by rage that I never saw such a clear sign of a lie?
“I need to talk to her.”
“Oh, please, please, can I be there?” Wyatt jumps up, a mischievous look spreading across his face. “Your Highness,” he says.
The walk back to the cottage was excruciatingly long. Wyatt hounded me with questions—he had a million and one of them—yet for every burning question, all I had were empty answers.
Mum is the only one who can answer them; she must have known.
She had to. But why hide it? Why did the witch say they needed protection from me?
The magic I witnessed in the woods was magnificent.
But I’m not so na?ve to think magic isn’t dangerous, I know it can be; the blast towards Wyatt being a good example.
But wouldn’t it have been better controlled, than locked away?
My head pulses as the beginning of a headache looms over me and sweat drips from my brow. The anticipation is eating me alive.
What if she refuses to answer?
What if she lies to me again?
What if she thinks I have gone crazy?
I pause on the front steps, grabbing Wyatt’s arm, stopping him from opening the door. “I don’t know if I can do this.” My voice cracks through my dry throat, “What if it’s not what I want to hear? What if my real family abandoned me?”
“Then you still have us. Our dysfunctional family is better than any royals.” He smiles, patting me on the back. “There’s only one way to find out the truth,” he says, pushing the door open, whether I’m ready or not.
Taking a deep breath, I step in front of him. Mum is standing at the table baking, a cloud of flour hazing around her. She wipes away a loose strand of hair with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of flour across her forehead. Baking is her way of keeping her anxious feelings at bay.
At the sound of the door, she turns around to look at me; dropping the bowl, it smashes on the floor. Mum rushes towards me, heaving me into a tight embrace. “It’s been hours, where were you?”
“I needed space… to think. I went into the woods, to the lake.” Mum’s eyes glistened as tears threatened to break free. She knew what the lake meant for Elana and me.
“I need to ask you something. I uh… I don’t know how to start.” Wyatt nods for me to go on.
Taking a deep breath, I blurt out, “Did you know about the magic? That the mark on my back isn’t a scar, it’s a marking of a magical family.”
Mum takes a step back; her eyes drop to my chest where my necklace should sit. She composes herself in a second.
“What are you rambling about? Magic?” She chuckles, half-heartedly waving me off with her hand, busying herself with tidying up the broken pieces scattered across the floor. “The mark is an unusual scar, that’s all. Remember, you fell off the tree. Nothing magical about it.”
“I used magic today out in the woods. Wyatt saw it,” I try to yell, but my voice breaks. “Don’t lie to me. Please.”
Mum stands up with the broken glass, placing it on the dining table. Every time I have asked about my scar, she always has the same answer: ‘Remember, you fell.’
I remember the fall, but that’s the thing about memories.
They are fickle. Like trying to put together a jigsaw with broken pieces, squashing them in even if they don’t fit, filling the gaps with random pieces, hoping they make sense.
Believing when others tell us they are right. How can I trust her now?
“Actually,” Wyatt intercedes. “I had to dive away from it, but I saw,” Wyatt says, running his hands through his sandy blonde hair.
Mum falls back into a chair with her hand over her mouth. She exhales, closing her eyes. “Yes. I knew.”
Staring at her in disbelief, I bite my cheek to stop the tears that are building in my eyes. Everything I have known is a lie.
“Why? Why would you keep this from me? What happened to my parents, my… my whole family? How did I end up here?” I sway with the spinning room, suffocating in this whirlwind of emotions. Wyatt grabs hold of my arms to keep me steady.
“Andi, please?” Mum steps towards me, gripping my shoulders. “I can explain it all, I promise. But first, please put your necklace back on, just for now.”
“My necklace?” I push her away. “After everything you’ve kept from me, you want me to wear the very thing stopping my magic, blocking who I am. Why would I put it back on? Don’t you feel safe with me, Mum?”
“It’s not like that.” I back out the door with her shouting after me, “Andi, please.”
For the second time today, I’m running from my problems, only this time I know where I’m going.
To the person who tried to tell me the truth, and I pushed him away.
A warm orange glow lights up the sky as the sun settles below the horizon.
The town's usual chatter has faded to quiet whispers as folk scurry home for supper, shop owners brush away the day's dust, cleaning up for an early night. Water from the fountain cascades down into the bubbling pool below. I toss a coin in, I don’t even know what I’m wishing for, Pria can sort through all the wants running around my head.
A ring of light shines against the blacksmith’s top-floor window.
My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t recall the last time I was ever this nervous.
With how we left things, can I be sure he will even want to see me? If our roles were reversed, I wouldn’t.
I summon all the courage I can muster. One footstep at a time, I count each agonising step of the old mahogany stairs that lead to the flat above the smiths.
I peruse the door in front of me, taking in every knot in the wood, every scratch from being worn down over the years.
Dallying, hoping to find the resolve to move my balled fist that’s resting against the door, but unable to knock.
“Come on, Andi, just knock,” I say to myself as I stand there immobile.
All the courage I had to make it this far has slipped away. I lower my hand, retreating from the door when it unexpectedly opens.
“What are you doing here?” Myles asks coldly. His eyes narrow on me, his lips thin and unsmiling.
I don’t think I have seen him look so grim before, my heart breaks seeing him so hurt, knowing that I’m the reason for his pain. I hate myself for how I treated him. Why didn’t I listen or laugh off his suggestion instead of blowing up?
“I—uh—”
Myles frowns at me, eyebrows creased, waiting for the apology he deserves, ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘I treated you like crap,’ ‘Please forgive me,’ all races through my head. But as I open my mouth, nothing comes out. I stand there gawking at him with my lower lip quivering.
As if Myles hears the pleas in my head, he ambles towards me. I pull at my fingers, trying to distract myself from the weight of his gaze, turning my head to hide my tear-stricken face. Myles reaches up, placing his hands on my arms, pulling me into him, and I can no longer contain my feelings.
He strokes my head soothingly; I hold on tight to him, whispering, “You were right.”