Enchantress

by Christine Schumaker

  Serese hurried over to her senseless companions. She shook Lord Forn but he did not awaken. She lifted the eyelids of Azrael and he did not stir. It appeared she had best think of a new plan. At once, the princess rose and surveyed her surroundings.

  The dark wooden furnishings were carved with foul fantastical creatures. Each more menacing than the last. Their ruby eyes seemed to glare at her with malice. Serese wondered whether to drink the wine; it occurred to her it had likely been poisoned.

  But her thirst was great. A headache had begun its rhythmic pounding in her temples. A sip or two of wine may alleviate it. For preventive measures, she took her flask, containing the magical violet rose fluid, out of her pocket. Carefully, she placed a drop of it into the wine cup.

  It sizzled, releasing a black mist. After the mist dissipated, Serese braved a sip—it soothed as it slid down her dry throat.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Serese’s first course of action was to try to pry open the metal bars on the room’s only window. They would not budge. A spell came to her mind, “Bonds of hate, be too late. Melt this grate, change my fate.”

  As soon as the words were said, a shock of heat infused the bars, burning Serese’s palm and fingers, which still clung to the bars. “Pig Dung!” she cried out, examining the red lines. Of course, Serpentine had placed her protective spells on all of the exits.

  Pacing, she glared at the woolen coverlet on the bed. It was embroidered with grotesque serpents. They seemed to inch across the coverlet towards her.

  Serese withdrew the flask from her pocket, and after carefully uncorking it, she poured a few drops on her blistered hands. The wounds immediately healed and Serese hurried over to her beloved. She knelt beside him, “I need your help, my Lord!” she implored as she shook him. But he remained senseless.

  Withdrawing her dagger from her boot, she cut her beloved’s bonds loose. Still, he slept as soundly as a baby. God’s teeth! His elfin powers had chosen the worst time to lie dormant.

  Even the Night dweller king snored like a drunken laborer as Serese nudged him with her boot. “Bats Dung and Rats Nests!” Serese swore as she paced the chamber, seeking a hidden exit.

  There were none. What did she expect? The sorceress was a cunning opponent, not a foolish maid who would be easily defeated. Still, a secret door would have been useful; Serese could not bear being confined.

  Out of desperation, Serese tapped on the walls, examined the pictures, and searched for a possible secret exit. None were found. She sighed as she paced the lavish room.

  Although she doubted the chamber door would open, she felt compelled to walk over and examine it. A peephole was centered in the middle of it, with a carved wooden coiled snake upon its surface. She put her hands upon it, wondering if it was enchanted. Then she jumped, startled as the coiled reptile opened its eye, peering at her.

  A guard glared at her through the peephole, from the other side of the bolted door. She rattled the door latch but it would not budge. Truly, she had not expected it to; she had only hoped it would.

  Serese paced the room, waiting for her aunt’s summons.

  Finally, the door opened and Nemas sauntered in, “It is time, Serese. Her majesty wishes an audience with her beloved niece.”

  “What about them?” Serese asked as she gestured to the men sprawled on the floor.

  “You need not concern yourself with them. Come, her Highness waits.”

  The princess followed the Night Dweller Warrior. Her mind reviewed all of the spells in her book, dismissing most of them as inadequate against Serpentine’s powerful evil. She racked her memory, trying to find a useful spell from her early lessons. None came to mind.

  Serese felt confident of her warrior training. Her aunt would pose no threat to her in that manner. What troubled her was her own lack of enchantress skills; her aunt held the advantage there. She refused to think that she marched to her own doom. It would be Serpentine’s end, not her own. Serese kept telling herself over and over, “Serpentine is a snake. Serpents are made to be trampled upon.”

  Flickering torches lit the stone hallway to the throne room. Various stationed guards stared hostile at Serese. She glared back at them, causing a few of them to grin. It seemed they did not view her as a threat. Serese anticipated proving their estimation of her wrong.

  Serpentine’s throne room surprised Serese for it was lavish and not dismal at all. Of course, tapestries with every wretched creature cavorting on them were hung liberally throughout. Naturally, the furnishings were saturated with serpents.

  The beautiful golden-haired woman on a white marble throne looked like an angel at first glance. The gown of white she wore glimmered with the shine of countless diamonds. The beauty of her queen mother could be seen in her face. She shared the same almond-shaped eyes as Serese. To think someone who looked so like herself was capable of such evil frightened the princess.

  The snakes in Serpentine’s hair slithered down Serpentine’s arms as she said, “I am pleased to meet you, niece. You are as beautiful as they say, but your courage and your intelligence far outweigh your outward appeal.”

  “Thank you, aunt. You are quite the surprise to me. I expected you to be ugly, I suppose,” Serese said. Nemas chuckled.

  “You may leave us,” Serpentine commanded and the pale warrior departed, leaving Serese and her aunt alone, as he closed the door behind him. The massive door clicked shut and there were no guards stationed in the room with them.

  “Come closer, child, I will not bite,” Serpentine said. Serese stood her ground.

  “It is your pets I do not trust,” Serese said and Serpentine smiled.

  “They will not harm you. Your opal will not let them. I want to see your mark.” Serpentine beckoned her niece with a long finger.

  Serese trusted her opal to protect her as she came closer. The princess observed the lines around her aunt’s eyes and a faint sheen of sweat upon her pale brow. Her cold beauty did not seem so perfect from this vantage point.

  “Come nearer, child,” the sorceress said, lifting her chin and prodding Serese to lift her own. Serese felt compelled to walk toward Serpentine, stopping a few steps away from the throne. Her aunt gave a sharp intake of breath when she observed the rose mark on Serese’s neck. Then she tilted her head and stared curiously at her niece.

  “How did you break the spell I placed on Forn? My understanding is that you were not trained in magic.” Serpentine frowned.

  “It is my intention to let your curiosity remain unsatisfied. Perhaps the ancients knew best when they selected me to destroy you.” Serese grinned but her eyes were hard.

  Serpentine laughed, “Simple girl. Do you believe the ancients know anything at all? How could your father sufficiently equip you to defeat me? It is the opal which enabled you to accomplish what you have. That elfin talisman alone is responsible. I would like to hold it.”

  “You may not.” Serese said stubbornly, meeting her aunt’s disdainful glance head on.

  Serpentine rose, holding her arms open to her niece, “Come, I could still spare you and Lord Forn. I will let you live with your lover, if you give me your opal. There is still hope for the both of you.”

  “I will not.” Serese faced her aunt, who inched ever closer. The sorceress smiled fondly but her eyes were devoid of warmth.

  “You are but a child. There is no reason to be sanctimonious, my dear. It was also foretold that we might rule together.” Serpentine stroked her snakes as she continued to observe Serese.

  Serpentine raised her arms as the princess stepped aside. The sorceress’s calm façade gave way to an evil expression as her cold blue eyes glared at her niece.

  A spell formed in Serese’s mind, “Heart of stone, heart of ice, your acts of hate will not suffice. Love I give, love to live, love to truly end all strife,” she said.

  Serese had never uttered that spell before. A white mist emanated from the opal, floating slowly toward Serpentine.

  The mist took on t
he form of a mongoose, circling Serpentine’s left arm. The snake around it hissed. The mongoose opened its smoky mouth and swallowed the serpent. It spread to the right arm and the snake upon it hissed before it too, was silenced. The sorceress cried out angrily, turning toward her niece.

  “You will suffer for that!” Serpentine strode over to Serese and tried to slap her niece. The princess nimbly ducked, avoiding Serpentine’s blow. Furious, the sorceress rushed toward her again but the princess kicked forward and her boot made hard contact with the sorceress’s hip, sending her backward. Serese’s boot left an ugly mark on her aunt’s gown. Then the princess expertly sidestepped away from Serpentine.

  The sorceress shrieked, stroking her bruised hip. Serpentine screamed as she rushed at Serese again. Serese twisted away like a cat escaping an enemy’s arms. Serpentine narrowed her icy eyes, rushing toward Serese and smacking her with a cane which she had grabbed from her work table.

  The stick made contact with the princess’s arm causing Serese to turn quickly as she kicked her aunt in the stomach. The sorceress fell to her knees, wheezing in pain. But Serpentine rose to her feet and raised her arms as she glared at Serese, “Rage and pain, do disdain—wipe the stain, stop her reign.” The sorceress laughed as Serese stared in astonishment.

  For out of a porcelain urn in the corner, slithered dozens of black serpents, their tongues hissing as they crawled toward Serese. The princess racked her brain thinking of a possible counter spell! As the menacing vipers approached, Serese climbed atop on a nearby chair. Serpentine watched with glee.

  The serpents now sought to climb up the wooden rungs of the chair on which Serese stood. They coiled tightly as they stretched their heads and slowly climbed up the chair rungs in order to reach her. Serese lifted her gown and stared at the climbing snakes beneath her.

  A counter spell came to Serese’s mind and she recited it, “Dark of hate, be too late—love and fate, shut its gate.”

  It concerned restoring broken love between courting couples. Bats breath, she must be overly fixated on Lord Forn for it was the only spell which came to her mind!

  Then Serese could not believe her eyes as the serpents withdrew from her chair.

  An amazing occurrence took place as the snakes separated into twos and began mating in earnest. Their lack of restraint was shameless. Even Serpentine shook her head in amazement as her creatures of darkness behaved like besotted young lovers.

  Serese smiled then as she stepped down from the chair. Serpentine calmly walked toward her, one hand raised in preparation to cast another spell. The princess warrior knew she must not allow her aunt to utter another curse. So, she said, “Seal her lips, fingertips—loose thy whip, sink her ship.” Serese wiggled her fingers at her aunt as she smiled.

  Serpentine turned as white as the marble walls in her throne room as her incantation would not flow from her mouth. She screamed but no spell came out of her enchanted lips.

  The princess laughed, “It seems the cat has got your tongue, Aunt. How shall you call upon your powers of darkness now?” Serese walked toward her aunt, keeping her eyes focused on her every movement.

  Serpentine suddenly stormed over to her work table, grabbing a bottle of green liquid and quickly draining its contents. Serese raised her arms and said, “Potion pure, please ensure, counteract—her swift cure.”

  “You are too late, my dear. This formula is older than written magic. It contains elfin blood. Your paltry spells are no match for it.” Serpentine actually cackled then.

  Striding purposefully toward Serese, the sorceress withdrew a small dagger from her pocket. The tip of the silver blade glistened with a black sticky substance. Serese saw her aunt’s determined stare. She withdrew her own dagger from her boot, “You are no match for me in tactical warfare. If you surrender, I will grant you a quick death. Although, I am certain you did not grant my sister the same option, before killing her.”

  “She died bravely. It is a family trait. But then, you will be joining her shortly in the great realm beyond. You can ask her yourself.” Serpentine smiled—a chilling grimace.

  “Pride goes before every fall, Aunt.”

  Like lionesses, the two stalked one another, as wary as feuding jungle cats. Serese crouched low, while Serpentine swiped her blade toward her niece’s face. Serese ducked out of its way, avoiding the silver dagger’s blade.

  Serpentine grunted as she struck out at the princess once more. The quick girl darted out of the dagger’s way again.

  Serese let her aunt wear herself out, baiting her with counter attack moves, waiting for the elder woman to tire. “I thought you would be more formidable,” Serese taunted Serpentine.

  The enraged sorceress screamed then, throwing her poisoned blade at her niece. The silver weapon lodged in Serese’s arm as the princess cried out. The poison did its evil work quickly as Serese turned white. Then the girl chosen by the ancients stumbled and fell to the floor in a senseless heap.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Serpentine laughed maniacally, running over to Serese and kneeling beside her. The sorceress stroked her niece’s cheek, “I have got you now, my sweet. It is a pity you chose not to align yourself with me.”

  The sorceress reached for the opal necklace around Serese’s neck. Just as her pale hand touched the opal, a fiery spark emanated from the gemstone, shocking Serpentine. She gasped and withdrew her hand in haste.

  Then the opal turned a milky white as it glowed brighter than bleached muslin, creating a heat which burned Serese’s throat. The rose mark on her neck became a tiny living rose, with sprouting thorns which wrapped around Serese’s neck in a tangled collar. The wounds from the thorns’ punctures caused Serese to cry out. She suddenly awoke. Scrambling to her feet, her hands found the thorny collar around her neck and she pricked her fingers.

  Upon seeing Serpentine on her knees, Serese said, “You will not trouble me, or those I love, anymore. I take no pleasure in destroying you. I am sorry you did not choose more wisely.”

  Serese touched the flask in her pocket; wondering when the moment would be best to use it. She held it ready, knowing she would need to act quickly. The liquid swept around restlessly in the flask. Serese thought that it must be as anxious as she was to destroy the sorceress.

  But Serpentine evaded her, muttering strange words under her breath. Serese was reminded of her dancing lessons as her aunt flitted about the great hall, as nimble as a court lady at a masque.

  Her aunt turned around and around in a frantic circle, chanting all the while. Serese wondered what sort of magic this was. Her white gown changed into a grey one as Serpentine spun quickly. Serese became dizzy watching her spin.

  Then the princess could not believe her eyes when her aunt formed into a pillar of smoke. It was unheard of—what kind of dark magic was this?

  The sorceress drifted off the floor, and floated across the timbered ceiling. All the while, she cackled like a banshee. Serese feared Serpentine’s darkness had drawn the evil One himself into their presence. Goosebumps formed on her arms as Serese told herself, “You must be brave. Only toss some liquid onto her and it will all be finished.”

  Serese chased her aunt around the room, failing to get close enough to Serpentine to throw the flask’s liquid. She stumbled around the work tables with their evil ingredients, knocking off a shriveled rat in a glass jar. Glass shattered everywhere. Colliding with a skeleton on an iron stand, it clattered to the floor.

  All the while, her aunt mocked her, “Why my dear, you are quite a bumbling violet rose. Perhaps you should toss that charm you wear to me. Why, clearly it is quite useless in your hands.”

  Serese fumed in frustration. She wished she knew how to transform herself into smoke. There was no substance more useful for evading capture. Serese breathed heavily, exerted from her efforts. Perhaps if her mare were here, she could reach the sorceress.

  Then Serpentine quickly changed direction, floating toward the window. Serese had anticipated her move. She stat
ioned herself in front of the shutters with her cloak open, preventing Serpentine’s escape from a slot in the wood.

  The smoke gave an enraged shriek and retreated, while Serese strained her neck, following the movements of her aunt in the rafters. Surely, her aunt would tire soon. She must be thirty summers at least.

  A spell came to mind as Serese despaired of ever catching her aunt, “Winds of change, rearrange. Put to right, what is strange.” She spun in a circle as she followed the movements of Serpentine’s smoky form below the ceiling.

  A fierce wind gust formed as a violet cloud in a corner. Gradually, it quickened in strength until it whipped the smoky sorceress recklessly about the room. Faint shrieks were heard as this wind tossed Serpentine about the room like hay in a summer storm.

  After a few more circles around the room, the smoke slowly descended. Serpentine formed into a woman once more. She swayed on her feet as she came closer to Serese, an unholy anger burning in her eyes.

  “You will never kill me,” Serpentine said.

  When she raised her arms to utter another spell, Serese uncorked the flask which she withdrew from her pocket. Quickly, she tossed some of the liquid onto her aunt’s surprised face.

  Serpentine screamed as burns melted away her cheeks and her nose. Flecks of raw flesh fell to the floor. Her hair was riddled with bald patches. The sorceress glared at her niece and raised her arms to utter a spell. Serese tossed more liquid onto her aunt.

  An anguished scream pierced the tower as Serpentine began to burn in earnest now. Her skin erupted into tiny flames. She became a black screeching corpse. The screeches became a keening raspy cough. Then, they were silenced as her burnt bones caved in on themselves. She dissolved into a pile of scattered ashes on the floor.

  Serese sank to her knees and tears clouded her vision. It was finished. Truly, she hoped she never had to kill again. It left a bad taste in her soul. She felt as if she would never be clean again. Even though her aunt had deserved it; the innocent girl inside Serese had been destroyed. The thorny collar around Serese’s neck disintegrated into ashes. The resulting scar would testify of what she had done. The violet rose had vanquished the sorceress. Her accomplishment would be visible for all to see, the thorn marks were her testimony.