by Susan Harper
“It’s Morganna,” Monica said. “We think she’s here. At least, we know Grace is. Holly was able to spy on her through Grace’s eyes, and she saw that Grace was on the ship with Brian.”
“Brian!” Abigail exclaimed breathlessly. “Brian’s here? Holly, is he okay?”
“I think so,” Holly said.
Aunt Wilma frowned. “If Holly can spy on Grace that way, wouldn’t Grace be able to do the same?”
Monica cringed. Could Grace have been spying on all of them this whole time? Suddenly, the mist began to circle around them. Everyone was now on high alert, and this became increasingly true as they heard cackling laugher. Monica gripped Abigail close, and she scanned their surroundings in desperate search for the owner of that wretched laugh and in hopes of spying Brian as well.
“Show yourself, Mother!” Holly roared, and almost instantly, they saw her. High above their heads came two figures floating toward them. It became clear after only a moment that it was Grace and Morganna.
They each landed on the deck before them. Morganna carried not a wand but a large staff. Grace, like Holly, did not require a wand for her spellcasting. “Where is he?” Monica growled. “Where’s Brian?”
Morganna raised her staff, and Brian came swooshing toward her from within the mist. He was completely weightless, resembling a person submerged in water with the way his arms floated lifelessly beside him and his hair swayed freely from the rest of him. His left leg had a chain and a weight to it that kept him from completely floating away. “Brian!” Deimus exclaimed.
“Come any nearer, and I will finish him off,” Grace warned, reaching out and grabbing him by his hair. Brian’s eyes did not open, nor did he flinch. Her free hand was opened to reveal her palm which had a bit of black flame dancing about its surface. She held it up menacingly in Brian’s direction, and Monica felt her bottom lip quiver at the sight.
“What do you want?” Holly demanded.
Morganna smiled and answered simply, “Everything.” Abigail huffed, and Morganna’s head turned dramatically in her direction. She seemed to be searching her memory file before her eyebrows raised. “Ah, my little Abigail Williams. One of my favorite witches I’ve ever had the pleasures of mentoring. The centuries have been good to you, my dear.”
Abigail gritted her teeth. “You made me hate the world and everyone in it,” she hissed. “I’ll never forgive you for that.”
Morganna seemed rather amused, but she moved on from Abigail and instead turned her attention back to Holly. “My daughter, the world will become what it was once more,” she said. “I had been plotting my takeover long before the Split ever happened. So very long before. Watching and manipulating a single family line—your father’s—to ensure he was given the genetic ancestry of more mystics than once thought possible.”
Monica frowned, thinking back to the ancestry potion she had done for Holly. The one that had revealed her father was much more than just half-immortal. The one that had determined, far back in his ancestry, he had werewolf, dwarf, giant, wizard, troll, centaur, mermaid, and so much more. “Are you telling me you went through the trouble of using magic to extend your life so that you could play matchmaker with a bunch of mystics for a thousand years?” Mona asked.
Morganna laughed. “I discovered something,” she said. “During my brother Arthur’s reign. Something Merlin was too stubborn to see. I was studying Ibeji and found those with various mystic ancestry could manipulate magic in ways others simply could not.”
“The more diverse the genetic makeup of an Ibeji,” Grace said as though she was bragging, “the more powerful they are. Don’t you see what she’s done for us, Holly? Mother has lived centuries so that she could create the most powerful Ibeji known to history. Our father’s immortal ancestors only survived the persecutions of the Sorcerer’s Council because our mother had selected his bloodline centuries ago to follow from the shadows—to make sure they produced with the perfect candidates to one day create our father, the half-immortal with the most diverse ancestry of any immortal ever known. So that, when he had children with a mystic…”
“I don’t want to hear about all your ridiculous work you’ve put into this,” Holly said. “I want you to let Brian go and then disappear back into whatever hole you crawled out of.”
“So unappreciative for what I’ve done for you,” Morganna sighed. “Took me centuries of waiting around to create you, my dear. Centuries! Grace understands and appreciates what her mother did for her. Why can’t you?”
“Let. Brian. Go,” Holly said angrily, her voice rising. “What do you even need him for?”
“To ensure your cooperation,” Morganna said. “We, daughter, are going to un-Split the mortal and mystic world. Then, we shall rule them together.”
“Okay, so, she’s crazy,” Isaac muttered. “It took the Sorcerer’s Council hundreds of immortal sacrifices to create enough magic for the split. I know because we were there when we went back in time. They had to kill hundreds of immortals and Ibeji to make this happen. There’s not enough magic in the world to undo that.”
Morganna smiled. “The Split put a damper on my plans, but that’s the beauty of it, mortal. My rule is inevitable. Because the magic I have created through my perfect Ibeji twins is more than enough to reverse the Split.”
Clowdia covered her mouth in horror for a moment. “That’s what you mean by wanting Holly to cooperate. You want to sacrifice your own child to re-open the worlds to each other!”
Half of the Wysteria Werewolves stepped forward, putting themselves between Holly and her mother and sister. Aunt Wilma’s wand was drawn, and she looked like a mother hound protecting her pup. Grace and Morgana both laughed, highly amused. Morganna’s voice boomed. “My own blood?” Morganna said. “My dears, not my child,” she said. “You forget that I was not the only witch to benefit from my careful planning. Not the only witch to create Ibeji with Holly’s father.”
The timing was simply awful. Coach Joanne-Jo came fluttering back up from the side of the ship, Holly’s whole family in tow—including Anniston, Holly and Grace’s half-sister. Anniston was on a broomstick, Holly’s adopted mother Bonnie gripping onto the back for a ride up. “Anniston!” Holly cried. “Run!”
“Fetch, Grace,” Morganna said, and Grace instantly shot up from the deck and went zooming towards Anniston and Bonnie. Bonnie was knocked clear from the back of the broom, but Anniston’s mother Norah came zipping by and snatched Bonnie before she could hit the deck too hard.
The whole ship went nuts all at once. Monica grabbed Abigail, who looked ready to join the fight, and pushed her back. “Uncle Drac, get her out of here!” Monica demanded.
“Of course,” he said, and he scooped her up and bolted through the mist despite Abigail’s insistence that she could help.
Monica, wand at the ready, ran toward Brian first. Grace, with a simple nod, created her own little army out of the mist to aid their side. Despite being grossly outnumbered, Morganna and Grace seemed to be the ones holding all the cards. Shadow creatures burst out from every direction, and Morganna waved her staff, sending Wysteria Werewolves or members of Holly’s family flying across the deck.
Above their heads, Anniston was doing her best to get away from Grace, who was tailing her, the two of them flying through the sails. Those who had broomsticks were flying overhead, blasting their wands in every direction at the various shadow demons Grace had summoned before taking off after the girl. Holly was now up in the air, flying after Grace.
Monica could hear shouts and kicks and punches all around as her friends attempted to fight off the creatures and Morganna’s blasts. Brian, she saw once she reached him, didn’t look good. His face was pale and a bit sunken in like he was sick. She reached up, touching his cheek. “Brian?” she whispered softly, and Morganna spun around.
“Get away from my pet, you unnatural,” she said, pointing her staff in Monica and Brian’s direction.
Isaac charged, grabbing the end of Morgan
na’s staff. A terrible mistake as the act seemed to produce an effect not unlike an electric shock, sending him jolting back onto his rear. His hair stood up on end. Morganna snickered. “I never liked you, boy,” she said.
“What are you talking about?” Isaac snapped, flattening his hair as he stood upright, evidently ready to distract Morganna while Monica tried to find a way to free Brian from whatever incantation the wicked witch had put on him.
“You think I did not keep track of my daughter?” Morganna sneered. “I’ve watched over her since she was an infant being raised by those mortals. I knew she fancied you. It’s why I enjoyed toying with you when you were a boy. I would not dare let a mortal be with my perfect Ibeji.”
“Toying with me?” Isaac echoed, fists now raised. “What are you talking about?” Morganna’s staff blasted him, but it didn’t throw him off his feet, instead he sat as though in some sort of trance.
Now, she turned back to Monica with a look of fury about her. “Step aside, unnatural,” she said. Monica pointed her wand at Morganna, and Morganna again laughed at her. “What are you going to do with that, unnatural? Hit me with a tickling charm?”
Monica was afraid, but she wasn’t letting this woman anywhere near Brian again. She knew even the best of witches and wizards couldn’t possibly go toe-to-toe with this woman, but Monica knew that she didn’t have to. “Offendimus!” Monica shouted, but Morganna easily blocked her curse with a simple wave of her staff. But hitting her hadn’t been the point. Distracting had been.
“Offendimus!” another voice shouted from the mist, and a blast was emitted from Mona’s wand, sending Morganna back.
“Offendimus!” Abigail shouted, clearly having escaped her babysitter.
“Offendimus!” Aunt Wilma shouted from her broomstick above.
Morganna was bounced around like in a pinball machine for a minute, and while Monica was certain it wouldn’t hold her for long, it did give her enough time to cast a spell that awakened Brian from his trance. He dropped to his knees, and though he looked rather ill and malnourished from whatever curses she had put on him since his abduction, he smiled at her. “Hey, beautiful,” he said. “Took you long enough.” He glanced around Monica. “Oh, cool, so we’re in the heat of battle now, huh?”
Monica kissed him, and when she pulled away, she smiled weakly. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
He stood up slowly, kicking aside the chain that had bound him. “What’s wrong with Isaac?”
Mona, who had just blasted away a couple more of the shadow creatures, was now standing before him, her wand raised as she tried to wake him from his trance. At last, one of her charms worked, and he jolted. When he did, his eyes filled with angry tears. His teeth were gritted, and he looked ready to kill someone. “Isaac?” Monica called, holding onto Brian’s arm to help him stay upright. “What did she do?”
“She showed me something,” he snarled. “That witch! She… She is the one who abducted me when I was a kid! Made me think… Made me think I was seeing aliens… I spent years in therapy for that crap! Thought I had been lost in the woods… Thought I was crazy… it was all her! All because she didn’t like Holly getting too close to a mortal! I’m going to tear her ugly head right off her shoulders!”
“Might want to dial it down there, friend,” Deimus said as he stood up after being blasted across the ship by one of Grace’s shadow minions. “Help Brian. Keep him away from these shadow things. He’s hurt.”
Isaac nodded and turned to Monica. “I’ll keep Brian safe,” he assured her. “You’re more useful than I’ll be to them.” He waved at their friends, still fighting and charging Morganna, Grace, and the shadow creatures.
Monica, eyeing the scene before them, felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Though they outnumbered Morganna and Grace, they certainly didn’t out-magic them. “We need help,” Monica said as she watched Bolt and Gale skid across the deck and ram into Urrgah, knocking him clear on his back.
There was a whistle from up above. “What’s that?” Brian asked.
“The cavalry,” Deimus said, grinning.
Monica looked up, and she could see the Norbury Nymphs flying in, led by Krulin. “No way,” she said. “He went for help.” She wasn’t going to question it because nine additional witches and wizards on their side was certainly something they needed.
Magic spells were blasted all over the ship. Monica managed to take out a few shadow creatures herself. The mist started to clear, making it more difficult for Grace to generate her minions. Anniston was darting across the deck, trying to stay away from both Grace and Morganna, whose primary target seemed to be her. Growing frustrated with the arrival of additional help for her foes, Grace screamed. She stomped her foot, and the whole ship shook and seemed to come alive. Rigging freed itself from the ship, and the ropes wrapped around and snatched up everyone as they went running by.
Those Grace didn’t manage to snag with the ropes, Morganna used her staff to capture them all in floating bubbles until it was only Anniston, Grace, and Morganna left standing. “The sacrifice of one is nothing,” Morganna said. “For the good of all.”
“You stay away from my daughter!” Norah, who had been captured by some of the rigging, was struggling fiercely to try to grab her wand that had fallen below her.
“Leave her alone!” Jonathan snapped, but he was no better off in the giant floating bubble Morganna had trapped him in.
Morganna smiled up at him. “My perfect specimen,” she told him. “It took me centuries to create my perfect immortal half-breed in order to create my girls. Holly will come to see eventually and join her sister and me, I know.”
Holly blasted herself free of one of the giant bubbles, and she landed between Anniston and Grace. Holly glared at Grace. “Anniston is our sister,” she told Grace. “You can’t let her hurt her.”
“She was created for her own purpose,” Grace said. “Mother sent Norah to Jonathan to create her own Ibeji so that we could live. Be thankful Mother is not needing you for this sacrificial task. Instead, she wants you to rule at her side.”
“You’re not getting anywhere near my baby sister,” Holly said.
Monica was struggling against some ropes, her sister Mona not too far from her trying desperately to reach her wand that had fallen to the deck. Mona glanced up at Monica, and something seemed to have caught her eye. While Holly was having her standoff with her family, Mona whispered up to Monica. “Is that a vial in your robes?” Mona asked.
Monica had almost forgotten she still had a bit of the truth potion left. Monica nodded. “Truth potion,” she said.
Mona again tried to reach for her wand, but it was no use. Brian, who was also struggling nearby against the ropes, reached his foot out and kicked it in an attempt to get it in Mona’s direction. It slid toward Mona, and she snatched it up and quickly hid the wand up her sleeve. Monica worked to reach the small vial in her pocket. “What are you going to do with it?” Monica asked.
“Try to get Morganna to drink it,” Mona said. “Remember how crazy that stuff made Bolt?”
“You’re not going to be able to force her to drink it,” Monica said, but an idea struck her. “But you could turn it to mist and blast it in her face.”
Brian smirked. “Would that get it into her system even quicker?”
“I think so,” Mona said, and Monica nodded.
Mona tossed her sister the vial just as Holly and Grace seemed prepared to start blasting one another until one of them came out the victor. Monica and Mona slipped free, and Morganna spun around. Monica pointed her own wand at Morganna. “Offendimus!” Monica shouted, actually managing to strike Morganna with the spell and knock her on her back.
“Ah! You’ll burn, unnatural!” she roared, jumping back to her feet just as Mona tossed the vial up, blasted it with her wand, and turned it to mist right in Morganna’s face.
The next thing out of Morganna’s mouth, no one expected. “Hurry up, Grace!” she bellowed. “As soon as we
unite the worlds, I may devour you for your power as well!” The woman’s hands flew over her mouth in surprise.
Grace froze. The ropes binding everyone loosened, though it did not free them entirely. “Excuse me?” Grace asked. “What do you mean by that, Mother?”
Morganna would not remove her hands from her mouth, but this presented Monica with a grand opportunity. Morganna’s attention was entirely on Grace. Monica jolted toward the woman from behind and managed to snatch her staff from her. “Give that back here, you filth!” Morganna roared, but Monica was already bolting across the deck. Morganna, as powerful as she was, was no Ibeji. She was fairly useless without her wand or staff.
“Mother!” Grace shouted as the bubbles Morganna had created began to vanish, dropping their captors. “Tell me what you meant!”
Morganna was trying to fight off the effects of the truth potion, but it was in vain. Her hands lowered, and she spilled her guts, similarly to how Bolt had done before, though her secrets were far darker than anything Bolt ever muttered. “I only had children to create my perfect Ibeji! I never intended to rule alongside them, only use their magic. I created a spell that I could use to absorb your power, and once we reversed the Split, I was going to kill you, daughter. Both you and Holly, so that I could have the power of two fully-matured Ibeji to myself!”
Grace looked stunned and rather heartbroken. Holly smirked in Monica’s direction. Morganna had lost her staff and her heavy-hitter. Without a second’s pause, Grace threw her hands out in front of her. Morganna, who was still trying to fight off her truth potion, didn’t stand a chance against one of her perfect children. There was a flash of light. Monica, and those around her, shielded their eyes, and just like that, Morganna was no more.
14
The stands were packed full of mystics from all over the world, and the excitement in the city of Norbury was unlike anything Monica had ever witnessed. She was in line at the stadium’s gift shop, where she was spending half of the past month’s book shop earnings on Wysteria Werewolves and Norbury Nymphs paraphernalia for Abigail’s bedroom. Monica couldn’t help herself. She had told Abigail she could pick a theme for her bedroom back home, and she had selected Romp-A-Roo.
