“I do?”
“And your father’s complexion.”
“Really?” Ella lifts her hands to her cheeks, trying to hide her smile. “What else?”
I’m not very good at this. All I can think about is the moment I woke to find Omorose’s face hovering above me and the hatred that instantly filled my gut. Our days together are painted in shades of red, colored by the anger I felt every time I looked into her eyes—I’m not sure I ever saw her clearly. Which is, I’m sure, exactly what every thirteen-year-old human wants to hear about her long-lost sister…
Eventually, I settle on, “She loves you.”
Yet the words don’t seem to make Ella happy. Instead, her hands fall away from her cheeks and her smile wilts. She flicks her gaze toward me, then away, then back to me.
“Do you, um…” She pulls her lower lip between her teeth, chewing on it for a moment. “If she loves me, do you know why it took her so long to find me? Why she didn’t come sooner?”
I wonder if one day, Aerewyn will ask the same question of me.
The very idea makes me squirm.
“She wanted to find you. She tried. She did everything she could,” I tell her adamantly as my sister’s face flickers to life deep in her eyes, pleading. I blink the sight away and remember I’m talking to Ella—not Aerewyn. Ella. And this is about Omorose, not me. I swallow and smother the emotion in my voice, keeping my words at a comfortable distance. “The moment your sister inherited the magic, she knew your mother was dead. She and your father spent years searching for any hint of you, or your kingdom, but they never found anyone or anything from their past. They thought you’d vanished along with everyone else, until the night Omorose died and she felt her magic transfer over to you.”
“I figured as much.” Ella sighs. “Anna and Dru, the two girls you met yesterday? They were with me on the day of the earthquake. They were my sister’s ladies-in-waiting, but she was on a trip with my father, so they were stuck babysitting me. We were playing in a grove on the outskirts of town when it happened. Everything just vanished—the castle, the village, my mum who’d been standing only a few feet away. I think we’re the only three who survived. I always dreamed that my sister was alive, my father too, that somehow they’d find me, but Dru and Anna used to tease me mercilessly for it. I think they were angry that they lost everything while I still had hope. They’re the only reason I even know about the curse. They used to tell me Omorose was dead, that her magic must’ve killed her by now, that the curse had stolen her youth and turned her into a shriveled old lady. They used to say I wasn’t really my mum’s daughter since the magic never made its way to me, that my father knew I was illegitimate and that’s why he never bothered to rescue me. They used to say my mum went crazy with the power, that Omorose did too, and it was only a matter of time before the same happened to me. They used to—” She cuts off and shrinks back, shaking her head to dispel the memories.
Old wounds take the longest to heal.
I remember the other girls in training, how they’d sometimes whisper behind my back, saying that I was as unhinged as the storms I used to wield, that the roots must’ve been rotten when I was born, that I was worse than a fungus. Aerewyn would silence them with a look, but the hurt was harder to suppress. Even now, my heart twinges with the memory, but I push the past back where it belongs—far away.
I don’t want to know her inner turmoil. I don’t want to sympathize with her struggles. I don’t want to go deeper than the surface level we’ve been maintaining—it’s too easy to get lost there. What can I say to change the subject?
“Did you know Omorose is in love with a shapeshifter prince?” I offer as a way out. Ella turns to me with wide eyes, as eager as I am to leave the past behind. “We’re going to his kingdom. You’ll meet his subjects. They’re in hiding in the mountains.”
“Wait—shapeshifters are real?”
Well, they were almost annihilated by human greed, but I don’t mention that part. Instead I just nod.
Her voice quickens. “And my sister is dating one?”
Again, I nod. “His name is Cole.”
“What animal can he become?”
“A wolf or a bear, depending on his mood. Maybe something else too, but those were the main two spirits I sensed.”
“What other magical creatures are there?”
“Oh, lots,” I mutter offhandedly. At least, there were. I’m not sure how many are still alive, or how many the humans destroyed forever by stealing their magic. “Centaurs, unicorns, mermaids. I met a giant once—”
“A giant!”
“Oh, he was nice enough. It’s the dwarves you want to watch out for. They might be small, but they have terrible tempers. And don’t even get me started on pixies.”
Ella giggles.
The joy catches me off guard. I turn to look at her, taking in the smile on her lips, the way her eyes seem to dance. I always thought all humans hated magical creatures, but she seems curious, excited even at the prospect of them being real. Something inside my chest twinges, flickering brilliantly before it snuffs out.
I turn away.
“What about pixies?” she asks, voice chiming with all the fervor of a songbird on a sunny spring day.
The sound of approaching footsteps saves me from answering. Ella frowns and turns to the door as I murmur the words of my cloaking spell. A second later, a familiar face pops through the open door.
“Good morning, Headmistress Hinkley,” Ella mumbles.
“Why weren’t you at breakfast?”
Ella falls theatrically back on her bed, lifting her fingers to her forehead. “I feel a bit ill.”
Headmistress Hinkley arches a brow. “You seemed perfectly healthy last night.”
“It came on quick.”
“Just quick enough for you to miss your lessons?”
I stifle a smile. This woman might be older, but she won’t be pushed around by a kid. I should probably take a few notes.
“And I suspect by this afternoon you’ll miraculously recover,” Headmistress Hinkley continues, “just in time for the dress fitting Prince Frederick arranged before the party this evening?”
By my side, Ella gulps, but tries to cover it with a meek cough. “I’ll suffer through it.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Headmistress Hinkley stares at Ella.
Ella stares at Headmistress Hinkley.
It’s a classic battle of wills, and if the power dynamics were different, I really don’t know who’d win. As it stands, there’s no contest.
Headmistress Hinkley puts her hands on her hips and leans forward slightly. “Ella Bush, if you want to go to that ball tonight, then get out of bed this instant and go to school. The bus will be here in ten minutes. If you’re too ill to get up by then, you’re certainly too ill to attend a party. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Headmistress Hinkley.” Ella sighs and casts a sidelong glance in my general direction. “Can I have a few minutes to get dressed?”
“If you’re not on that bus, no ball.”
“Yes, Headmistress,” she murmurs, but the second the door is closed, she bolts out of bed and wrinkles her nose at the door, sticking out her tongue. Then she turns to me with a scowl. “She’s got such a stick up her bum. No one’s allowed to have any fun.”
I let my spell fall away, rolling my eyes at her dramatics. “Why?”
“I heard that before the earthquake her husband was a posh executive at an airline,” Ella whispers as she marches across the room to the closet and yanks it open. I have no idea what an airline or an executive is, but I let her vent because it seems as though she needs it. And honestly, it means she’s not pestering me. “But when the worlds merged, his industry completely collapsed. People were fighting for their lives—they didn’t have time to go on holiday, not to mention the issue with the electricity. Anyway, they lost everything and she had to go back to work. She wasn’t qualified for anything because she hadn’t had a pro
per job in years. But he knew someone who knew someone, so when the royal family opened this orphanage as a sign of good faith to the rest of the world, she got the position as headmistress. Anyway, I think she resents us all because we’re a constant reminder of how her world fell apart.” Ella snorts as she slips into a new pair of pants and a white button-down shirt. “She’s too up her own arse to realize all our worlds fell apart. Does she really think any of us would rather be here with her if we could go back home?”
“Tonight, after the ball, you’ll be going home,” I counter, trying to calm her frustration. The magic crackles beneath her skin as her temper rises.
“I’m not going home,” she murmurs as she finishes getting dressed and turns to me. She pulls her hair into a bundle at the top of her head and secures it with a tie. The centers of her eyes resemble a bottomless ravine, deep and dark and swirling with a hollowness I understand. “I’m getting my sister and my father back, which is more than I ever dreamed, but I’m not going home. It doesn’t exist anymore.”
Ella blinks and the maturity in her gaze vanishes. She’s back to being a girl, just like that. I wish I could erase the moment so easily, but I can’t. I know what it’s like to wake up and realize everything you love has been destroyed. I know what it’s like to long for a past that you can never recreate. I know what it’s like to feel lost in your own life.
An awareness is blossoming inside of me, and the more she speaks, the more and more it blooms, whispering that we’re not so different after all, this human and me, no matter how much I wish it weren’t so.
“How does this look?” Ella asks, voice chipper again. All hint of the seriousness from a few moments before is gone. She scrunches her face and turns toward a mirror, holding her body at what seem to be uncomfortable angles as she scrutinizes her appearance.
“Fine.”
“Are you just saying that?” She turns toward me with a pointed look. “Or do you actually mean it?”
“Look, Ella,” I interject, changing the subject. There’s nothing I can do about Ella until I see this blood oath through, bringing her to Omorose unharmed, so there’s no use in dwelling. But if I’m going to be stuck alone in this room for a few hours, I’ll need something to occupy my time, and the prince who might be able to track magic seems as good a subject as any. “I have to ask you about your magic.”
Her face falls, indicating that it’s a subject she doesn’t want to discuss. I’m not sure why. She seemed more than happy to ask me all about my magic and the magic of my world. Is it because of her curse? Because of her sister? Or is it because maybe, on some level, part of her knows it doesn’t truly belong to her?
“Have you used it?”
She cringes and glances to the floor.
“Even just once?” I press.
Ella sighs and drops her shoulders from where they’d been scrunched up by her ears. “I didn’t mean to…”
“What happened?”
“The night I got the magic, I was up late sitting by the fire like I was when you found me yesterday,” she says as her eyes glaze over, mind drifting back to that fateful day. “One second, I was reading, and the next thing I knew, this force, this power unlike anything I’d ever felt before, slammed into me and knocked me to the ground. I knew it could only mean one thing—my mum really was dead, and my sister too, for the magic to have made it all the way to me. I’d had so many dreams of my sister coming to save me, of my family rescuing me, of being together again, I was completely gutted—by the magic and by everything it represented. I felt as though I couldn’t breathe, as though I were choking. I needed some fresh air.”
Ella blinks, coming back to herself, and finds my gaze. “I knew my mum’s magic had something to do with flowers and nature, but I didn’t remember how exactly until I snuck into the courtyard. As soon as I stepped outside, I could feel every rosebud, every blade of grass, every leaf on every tree, all calling out for the power. I couldn’t fight it. The magic rushed out, sinking into the ground and into the air, before I could think to stop it. Then it was too late. It was too strong, too powerful. All I could do was let the magic go and go and go, until finally, I collapsed. Then this pain took over, as though something was ripping my soul into pieces and stripping it from my body. I realized it was my family curse tearing time away from my heart, just like Dru and Anna always said. The ache was so intense the magic just stopped and I passed out. I didn’t realize what had happened or how bad it was until the next day.”
I lean in. “Why? How?”
“At school, it was all anyone could talk about,” Ella murmurs, voice trembling along with her body. As though cold, she rubs her palms up and down her biceps, but I know this sort of chill comes from within. “There’d been a blackout in the middle of the night, and no one knew why. The entire city lost power, only for a few minutes, but it was enough. Everyone was gossiping. Was it the storm? Was there a power surge? Was it magic? They giggled while they said it, but they were afraid. I could hear it in their voices. Dru and Anna cornered me in the hall to ask if I’d been the one using magic, but I knew I couldn’t confide in them. I knew that if I told them the truth, they’d hold it over my head forever, the same way they’ve done with everything else. So I lied. I told them it wasn’t me. I’m not sure if they believed me, but they didn’t have proof, so they walked away. I’ve kept the magic in check ever since, because I know I can’t afford to slip up again, not with those—” Ella breaks off and snaps her head toward the window as a screeching noise permeates the air. “The bus. Blimey! I have to go.”
“Wait!” I snatch her hand before she can run out. “One more thing. When did the prince come to invite everyone to the ball?”
Ella tilts her head to the side and furrows her brows. “Why?”
“Just tell me.”
“Not until the next day, I think. Or maybe the day after…” A horn honks outside and her eyes pop wide. “I have to go!”
She rips her fingers free in the same second I let them go and rushes out the door. I close it behind her, then lie in her bed, mind swirling.
If the humans knew Ella had magic, they would’ve killed her immediately—which means they don’t know it was her, but they must suspect. The blackout stopped their technology from working, but maybe after, when it came back on, they traced the magic to this location. It’s possible some of it lingered in the air even after she’d stopped actively using it.
I wonder if the prince came with his little toy that day, hoping he’d be able to find out the source. Except by then, Ella had it under control. The power was contained, so he couldn’t get a trace. Maybe that’s why he invited everyone to the ball—as a backup plan, a second chance to catch the usurper in the act. If they came with soldiers and warriors and weapons, she’d know better than to let even a blip of magic out. But for a prince she’s madly in love with, who knows what a human girl would do? It wouldn’t be the first time a pretty face and a cunning smile convinced someone to do something they’d regret.
I need to stop Ella from doing anything stupid.
I need to follow her, the way I should’ve followed Aerewyn.
I need to keep an eye on Prince Frederick, the way I should’ve kept an eye on my sister’s prince.
Most of all, I need to learn what that little device of his can do. If humans have a way to trace magic, none of us will ever be safe. Even if I free all the stolen magic in the world, they’ll keep hunting magical creatures like me. They’ll never stop. They don’t know how. They won’t be satisfied until we’re dead and magic is completely gone from the world.
If it’s us versus them, I choose us.
I choose magic.
And I won’t let anything stand in my way.
The hours alone have done me good. I’m calm, clear-headed, and renewed in my quest. Nothing will throw me off track again. I’m completely focused. I’m ready and—
“Nymia,” Ella cries as she flings the door to her room open and then slams it shut behind
her. “The worst has happened.”
I let my head fall to the side and arch my brow as the Father’s shadows fall away. “The worst?”
“This is a disaster,” she continues, not sparing a glance in my direction as she runs across the room and tosses a large, flat bag onto the bed. “I mean, it’s orange. Orange!”
“What’s orange?” I ask, then sit up to watch as she unzips the bag down the center. A billowing cloud of tangerine fabric poofs through the seam, seemingly expanding in size the longer I look at it.
“My dress!” Ella shrieks and pulls the rest of the garment from the bag, holding it up so I can see the gown in all its carroty glory. I lift my palm to cover my smile because, well, it is quite orange. One look at my face and she groans, collapsing onto the bed in a heap. “Why is this happening to me?”
I tug on the fabric until I find her face. “What’s so wrong with orange? Marigolds are one of my favorite flowers.”
“Marigolds? Marigolds!” Ella frowns and stares at me as though I’ve got two heads. “No one writes sonnets comparing women to marigolds. I had a gorgeous blush dress, but then Dru told the seamstress that I was too young and I didn’t fill it out properly, that manky— Ugh! I could’ve padded my bra. But nooo. And then I got stuck with this because everything else in my size was taken!”
“Let me see.” I sigh. “It can’t be that bad.”
Except, two minutes later, I realize it is, in fact, that bad.
Ella stands in front of her mirror with her arms crossed and a deep frown across her lips, swishing her hips this way and that, as though trying to find a good angle. But there’s no good angle—and it’s not the color. Sure, that part is a little jarring, but the bigger problem is the style. The skirt appears to be swallowing her whole. I think an entire village could fit beneath it. There’s just so much volume—it has to be twice as wide as she is tall.
Chasing Midnight - A Cinderella Retelling (Once Upon a Curse Book 3) Page 8
