Chapter 3
ELOWEN
Unfortunately, ever since I saw what happened with the Minotaur, Mirabella has been making my life hell—even though I haven’t told anyone what I saw.
She can’t seem to leave me alone. She’s always sniping at me and making jokes to the other girls in the dorm about how chubby I am and how I’m a half-breed who doesn’t even belong at the temple of the Nature Goddess.
“The Goddess should be served only by those with pure blood,” she sneers, nodding at me. “Elowen is obviously at least half human. Or maybe she’s half cow!”
The other girls go along with her, giggling and pointing and generally making me wish I was anywhere else at all. They don’t do it around the Sisters, of course, so I can’t say anything without sounding like I’m lying or exaggerating or just whining for attention.
I think things can’t get any worse, but then Mirabella finds a way to make me even more miserable. She starts a rumor that she caught me touching myself while I was in the shower with the other girls. And she’s been telling this to everyone and making a scene in the communal showers.
“Watch out!” she shrieks, pointing at me as I lather myself with the honey soap we make from the bees we keep on the temple grounds. “Be careful—don’t show your naughty bits to Elowen! She’s going to make a grab for you like she’s grabbing herself!”
And even though I’m clearly doing nothing of the kind, the other girls all shriek and scatter, running to the other end of the large, echoing shower room where they bunch up and stare at me, giggling and making faces.
I just don’t know how much longer I can stand this. The shame and ridicule are getting to be too much. Which was why I go to bed early on the fateful night it happens…the night of the curse.
“You’re coming with us,” Mirabella says flatly, pointing at me as I cower in bed, hunched over my book.
“What? Why?” I protest. “I don’t want to go—I don’t have any wishes to make.”
I’ve heard them planning this “raid” for some time.
Apparently, deep in the Old Forest lives a wicked witch by the name of Grizalyn.
Supposedly she’s the same one who built a house made of candy to lure in children.
But Mirabella isn’t interested in that. She’s heard that Grizalyn has a magic wishing bush in her back yard—a bush that grows flowers that, when you pluck them and blow away their petals—grant any wish you ask.
Well, within reason. The wishing flowers won’t make you the richest or the most powerful person in the world—that’s beyond their power.
But they will grant small things. For instance, if you have curly hair and wish it was straight.
Or if you have a hump on your nose or crooked teeth, it can straighten those out as well.
Small, personal wishes that only affect you—that’s what the wishing flowers specialize in.
And Mirabella has decided to steal some.
“No way—I’m not going,” I say, when she demands I come again. I have no interest in stealing from a witch of Grizalyn’s caliber. She could probably turn the lot of us into toadstools if she wanted to. I don’t care to court that kind of danger.
But Mirabella narrows her eyes and glares at me.
“Well you’re not staying here! I know you—if we leave you, you’ll run straight to Sister Agatha and tell on us the minute we’re gone!”
The unfairness of her accusation stings me. I want to point out that I’ve never told about her letting the Minotaur fuck her—I’ve kept her secret faithfully. So why is she so cruel to me?
But I can’t say any of that—I’m sure it would only make Mirabella savage and she’s already making my life hell.
I decide that I’ll go—but I’ll hang back. When the others are plucking wish flowers, I won’t even be in the witch’s yard. I might even head back to the dorm early and wait outside until they get back to rejoin the group. I’m sure they won’t notice my absence once we’re all out in the dark forest.
“Come on, Elowen—don’t you want to come?” one of the other acolytes taunts me. “Think of what you could wish for. Why, you could wish to be thin. Or at least you could wish not to be such a fat cow!”
The other girls—who are all pure-blood High Fae and thus extremely skinny—burst into shrill gales of giggles at this.
I feel my cheeks heating with a blush. I know I’m too curvy—they never let me forget it. But I never hated myself for it before I had to move into the dorm. I miss my tiny closet room more than ever, but what can I do?
“I’ll come,” I say stiffly. “But I wasn’t going to tell on you. I just wanted to read.”
“All the time reading—what a loser,” Mirabella sneers. “Come on then—and try to keep up.”
She comes to my cot and grabs me by the arm and drags me up and out of bed. She’s surprisingly strong, considering how willowy and slender she is.
“Come on!” She marches me to the back entrance of the dorm, and we all leave as silently as possible.
Outside, my plan of hanging back isn’t working very well.
Mirabella keeps a firm hold on my arm, like she doesn’t trust me not to run back and tell one of the Sisters what’s going on.
She’s leading the pack and all the other girls are bunched behind us, giggling and whispering as we make our way into the forest.
I don’t much like going into the Old Forest at night, but Mirabella seems to know her way.
She must have been planning this on her own for ages before she decided to involve the rest of the girls in the dorm.
She snaps her fingers to make a magic path that glows faintly in the darkness—a piece of magic I’m only just beginning to manage myself—and we’re off, into the trees.
In no time, it seems, we’re at the witch’s house.
To my surprise, it’s not made of candy after all.
It’s a crooked looking structure with a sagging roof and one wall that’s crumbling.
To my relief, it looks completely dark inside.
There isn’t even any smoke curling up from the tall, twisted chimney.
“Good—she’s not home,” Mirabella hisses. “Come on—let’s go!”
She steps boldly off the path and right into the witch’s yard. I try to resist, but she drags me with her.
“Come on, you—you’re coming with me,” she snaps.
Nothing happens to either of us, which apparently gives the other girls the nerve to step off the path as well. We leave it glowing faintly in the darkness as we head for the back yard, behind the crooked structure.
I’m hoping and praying that Mirabella was wrong about the bush and its wishing flowers—I really don’t want to steal anything from a witch! But to my dismay, the moment we round the crumbling brick corner of the house, we see it.
It’s big and round with smooth, dark leaves but those aren’t what draw my eye.
Dotted all over the bush and glowing like candles are the flowers.
They look a little like dandelions gone to seed, but smaller and more delicate.
Each one emits its own soft pastel light—lavender, pale pink, baby blue, mint green and butter yellow.
It makes the bush look like a big round birthday cake, I think and for a moment I’m simply caught up in its beauty.
But then Mirabella gives me a vicious pinch that wakes me from my trance and makes me yelp in pain.
“Shush!” she hisses fiercely. “Now pick a flower and make a wish!”
“I don’t want to—you can’t make me!” I hang back, resisting her tugging this time. I don’t care what she says, I’m not going to be the first to steal from a witch as powerful as Grizalyn!
“Oh, fine!” She lets go of my arm in disgust and stalks over to the bush herself. Plucking a flower that glows soft pink, she brings it to her face and announces, “I wish my hair was pure gold!” Then she takes a breath and blows.
The fluffy little seedlings fly everywhere, each one glowing separately as they float away into the night sky, looking like a swarm of pink fireflies.
I don’t know why Mirabella wished what she wished—her hair is already blonde. Maybe she wanted it blonder? I don’t know. But what I do know is that it doesn’t seem to be working. Her hair is still the same medium blonde as before, falling like a shimmering waterfall down her back.
“Aw, it didn’t work,” one of the other girls says, looking disappointed.
“Of course it hasn’t worked yet,” Mirabella snaps. “You have to wait for every single seed to settle before the magic takes effect and there are so many of them—it could take time. While we’re waiting, all of you make a wish too.”
The girls look at each other and then all of them come forward to pluck a flower.
It’s like they’ve decided collectively that it’s safe and before I know it, they are all murmuring wishes and puffing on the flowers.
The air is full of the floating seedlings, glowing in every pastel shade of the rainbow.
I myself do not pluck a flower. And luckily, Mirabella doesn’t seem to notice.
I just take a few steps back, watching as the other girls all wish for typical things.
I admit I am tempted to make one wish to get rid of my freckles—I’ve always hated them—but I restrain myself.
I have a feeling this isn’t going to end well.
Shantilla wishes for longer hair. Lorelei, who feels that her nose is too big, wishes for a smaller one.
Hortence makes a wish for plumper lips and Viselie wants bigger, more beautiful eyes.
Terylin desires shiny hair. And so on and so on—all of them wishing and several of them making multiple wishes on multiple flowers.