by Chris Colfer
“We’re being shot at!” Lucy cried.
“By who?” Brystal asked in a panic.
In the distance, the girls saw three men step out from the darkness. The first man wore a yellow vest and had a rope tied around his waist, the second man wore a red cape and an axe swung from his belt, and the third man wore a green cloak and held a pitchfork. All three were dirty and scruffy, like they had been in the forest for days, and each of them carried a crossbow that was pointed in Brystal and Lucy’s direction.
“Well, well, well,” the man in yellow said. “It seems to be our lucky day! The Lord has led us to two witches in the same spot!”
“What did I tell you, boys?” the man in red bragged. “The rumors must be true! There’s a whole coven of witches somewhere around here!”
“Sinful scum,” the man in green sneered. “Did they really think they could live in the woods without anyone noticing? They’re practically begging to be hunted down!”
Brystal and Lucy exchanged a glance of terror and slowly backed away from the men.
“They’re witch hunters!” Brystal whispered. “And they think we’re witches!”
“What should we do?” Lucy whispered back.
Brystal’s mind went completely blank. Although her wand was securely in her hand, all of Madame Weatherberry’s training abandoned her, and there was only one thing she could think of doing.
“RUN!”
Without a moment to lose, Brystal and Lucy bolted into the forest and ran away from the men as fast as they could. The witch hunters whistled and cheered, excited for a chase, and charged after the girls. The men shot arrows at Brystal and Lucy, but fortunately the thick forest made it difficult to aim. The ground was covered in so many overgrown roots and rocks it was almost impossible to run without tripping, but Brystal and Lucy moved as swiftly as possible, knowing one misstep could cost them their lives.
As they ran, the girls looked back and forth between the men chasing them and the ground ahead. Their escape came to a dead end when they slammed into the flat side of a hill they hadn’t seen in the dark. The witch hunters surrounded them, beaming with sinister glee. Obviously, watching their prey tremble in fear was their favorite part of the hunt.
“You’re awfully young and pretty to be witches,” the man in yellow sneered.
“That’s because we’re not witches!” Brystal cried. “We’re fairies! You’re making a terrible mistake!”
The men howled with laughter, like wolves howling at the moon.
“Did you hear that, boys?” The man in yellow laughed. “The girl in the sparkling garb says she’s not a witch!”
“Who cares what they are?” the man in red said. “No one in the village will know the difference. We’ll be heroes when they see the bodies!”
“Make sure to aim below their necks,” the man in green instructed. “I want to mount their heads to my wall.”
The witch hunters reloaded their crossbows and raised them at Brystal and Lucy. The girls closed their eyes and held each other in horror, expecting to be pelted with arrows at any moment.
Just as the men were about to pull their triggers, they were distracted by something rustling in the trees nearby. Suddenly, a massive creature emerged from the woods and plowed into the witch hunters. The men were knocked to the ground and dropped their weapons. Before they could get to their feet, the mysterious beast plowed into them again, crushing the men’s crossbows under its feet. Brystal and Lucy didn’t know if they were in more or less danger now that the creature had joined them. It was so large and moved so quickly in the moonlight that Brystal and Lucy could only see one piece of it at a time. They saw horns and hooves, nostrils and teeth, fur and metal, but not enough to determine what they were looking at.
“Let’s get out of here before we’re killed!” the man in red shouted.
The witch hunters fled into the dark forest, screaming like small children as they went. However, the creature stayed with Brystal and Lucy. It became very still and all three of them studied one another in total silence. Once her heart rate slowed down and her senses returned, Brystal remembered the magic wand in her hand. She waved it through the air, and dozens of twinkling lights illuminated the forest, and finally the girls saw what kind of creature was standing before them.
“Oh my gosh,” Brystal gasped.
“You don’t see that every day,” Lucy said.
It wasn’t just one creature, but two. An enormous knight dressed from head to toe in silver armor sat on the back of a giant horse. A pair of antlers grew out of the knight’s helmet, and he wore a long fur cape. The horse had a pitch-black hide and a long ebony mane, and to the girls’ amazement, the steed had three heads instead of one. Everything about the strange knight and his horse was incredibly frightening, but there was an otherworldly quality about them, too. Brystal couldn’t explain why, but she trusted the knight, like he was some kind of sacred being.
The knight extended an open hand toward the girls. Brystal stepped forward and reached for his hand, but Lucy quickly pulled her back.
“Are you nuts?” Lucy said. “Don’t go near that thing!”
“No, it’s okay,” Brystal assured her. “I think he wants to help us.”
“How do you know that?” Lucy asked.
“He just saved our lives,” Brystal said with a shrug. “If he wanted to hurt us, he would have already done it by now.”
Brystal took the knight’s hand, and he pulled her aboard his three-headed horse. He reached toward Lucy next, and after some coaxing, Brystal convinced Lucy to join them. The knight tugged on his horse’s reins, and together, he and the girls traveled through the dark forest. Soon they returned to the dirt path and Brystal spotted the academy’s hedge barrier in the distance.
“How did he know where to take us?” Lucy whispered.
“I have no idea,” Brystal whispered back.
The girls climbed down from the three-headed horse and looked up at the knight in awe.
“Thank you for saving us,” Brystal said.
“Yeah, and thanks for the lift home,” Lucy said. “I’d give you a tip but I’m out of cash.”
“What’s your name, sir?” Brystal asked.
The knight didn’t reply, but Brystal didn’t take it personally. She had a sneaking suspicion the knight was quiet because he couldn’t speak.
“Well, whoever you are, we’re very grateful to you,” she said.
Just then, a familiar galloping noise sounded through the forest. Brystal and Lucy turned toward the sound and saw Madame Weatherberry’s golden carriage traveling toward them. The knight and his horse were so large they blocked the path, and the unicorns came to an abrupt stop behind them. The carriage door flew open and Madame Weatherberry stepped outside to address the knight.
“Horence?” the fairy asked. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”
Clearly the fairy and the knight knew each other. He steered his horse to the side of the path, revealing Brystal and Lucy standing behind him.
“Madame Weatherberry!” Brystal cheered. “You’re back!”
She was overjoyed to see her teacher, but as Brystal walked closer to greet her, Madame Weatherberry seemed very different. The fairy was so exhausted she looked ten years older than when she’d left. There were bags under her eyes, her dark hair was gray at the temples, and both of her arms were now covered in gloves. Despite Brystal’s warm welcome, the fairy was absolutely infuriated to see her students.
“What are you two doing outside of the academy?” she yelled.
“We—we—we—” Brystal struggled to respond.
“It’s my fault, Madame Weatherberry,” Lucy confessed. “I went outside the property because I thought it would be fun to explore the In-Between. Brystal knew it was dangerous and came to find me. We were attacked by witch hunters, but luckily, this weird knight guy saved us.”
“How dare you disrespect me by breaking the rules!” Madame Weatherberry roared. “Bo
th of you get inside the carriage! Now!”
Brystal and Lucy followed her instructions and hopped inside the golden carriage.
“Horence, thank you for your assistance tonight, but I’ll take it from here,” Madame Weatherberry told the knight.
The knight bowed to the fairy like she was royalty, and then slowly steered his three-headed horse into the forest and disappeared from sight. Madame Weatherberry joined her students in the carriage and slammed the door behind her.
“How could you do this to me, Brystal?” she snapped.
“Madame Weatherberry, I told you it was my fault,” Lucy said.
“But Brystal let it happen!” she said. “I trusted you, Brystal! I asked you to look after the others, and you failed me! You have no idea how disappointed I am!”
Hearing this brought tears to Brystal’s eyes. “I’m—I’m—I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want to hear another word from either of you,” the fairy said. “As soon as we get to the castle, you will both go straight to your rooms and stay there until I say so! Is that understood?”
Brystal and Lucy nodded and stayed silent. Neither of them had seen their teacher so livid before—they didn’t even know the fairy was capable of such anger. It was like Madame Weatherberry had returned to the academy as a completely different person.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ANGER
Brystal barely slept after her and Lucy’s night in the In-Between. Not only was she heartbroken about breaking Madame Weatherberry’s trust, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of the witch hunters who had tried to kill them. Brystal had nightmares all night about dodging the men’s crossbows. Every twenty minutes or so, she awoke in a panic and had to remind herself she was out of the forest and safe in her bed at the academy.
Although terrifying, the encounter wasn’t a complete surprise. Brystal knew the world was filled with people who despised magic and wanted to harm members of the magical community—but until last night, she had never seen the hatred with her own eyes. It was her first exposure to a very ugly side of humanity, and now that she had witnessed it, Brystal would never think of humankind in the same way again.
The morning after her restless night, there was a knock on Brystal’s bedroom door and Tangerina poked her head inside.
“Brystal?” she said. “Madame Weatherberry wants to see you in her office.”
Facing another wave of the fairy’s extreme disappointment was the last thing Brystal wanted to do, but she climbed down the floating staircase to her teacher’s office anyway. When she arrived, Madame Weatherberry’s wooden door was opened a crack and she could see her teacher standing behind her glass desk, gazing through the window at the sparkling ocean. Brystal took a deep breath, braced herself for whatever was about to happen, and lightly tapped on the door.
“Madame Weatherberry?” she asked. “Tangerina said you wanted to see me.”
As soon as the fairy turned around, Brystal could tell she was in a much better mood than the night before. She could still see that Madame Weatherberry’s journey had taken an obvious toll on her—there were still bags under eyes, her hair was still gray at the temples, and gloves still covered both of her arms—but the teacher’s cheerful spirits had returned.
“Hello, dear,” she said. “Please come in and have a seat.”
Brystal stepped into the office, closed the wooden doors behind her, and sat down across from Madame Weatherberry at the desk.
“I owe you a very big apology,” the fairy said. “I was utterly exhausted when I arrived last night and I completely overreacted when I saw you and Lucy outside the academy. Tangerina spoke to me this morning and said the entire ordeal was her fault. She said Lucy tried to run away after they exchanged some hurtful comments and that you went into the forest to find Lucy. What you did was brave and selfless, and you didn’t deserve such a harsh scolding. I hope you can forgive me.”
Brystal sighed with relief and sank into her chair.
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” she said. “Of course I forgive you, Madame Weatherberry. I imagine the last couple of days have been grueling for you. It must have been very difficult, you know, visiting your sick friend. How is she doing?”
Brystal purposely brought up the topic in hopes of learning more about the Northern Conflict. Now that Madame Weatherberry had returned, Brystal wondered if her teacher and the witches had succeeded in bringing the conflict to an end. Unfortunately, Madame Weatherberry only elaborated on her original story.
“She’s not well, I’m afraid,” Madame Weatherberry said. “But she’s a fighter.”
“What’s her name?” Brystal asked.
Madame Weatherberry went quiet and Brystal assumed she needed time to make up a name for her fake friend.
“It’s Queenie,” the fairy said. “We’ve known each other our entire lives. She’s battling a terrible disease that grows stronger every day and it won’t be long until it consumes her. Although it doesn’t excuse my behavior, I hope that explains why I was so distressed last night. It’s very hard watching someone you love in so much pain.”
Even though Brystal knew the real reason Madame Weatherberry had left the academy, the fairy was very convincing as she spoke about her “sick friend.” Brystal questioned if there was more honesty to her teacher’s words than she realized. Perhaps “Queenie” and the woman Madame Weatherberry was afraid to face in the Northern Conflict were the same person? Or perhaps the disease her friend was battling was the conflict itself?
As Brystal searched for the truth in her teacher’s eyes, she noticed a dark mark peeking out from under her new glove.
“Is that a bruise on your arm?” Brystal asked. “Did something hurt you?”
Madame Weatherberry glanced at her right arm and quickly pulled the glove over the exposed injury.
“Oh, that’s nothing.” The fairy deflected the question. “Just a little mark I received while caring for Queenie. Poor dear hates being mothered and doesn’t know her own strength. I didn’t want anyone to worry so I covered it with a glove. But that’s enough about all that.”
Brystal could tell Madame Weatherberry was eager to change the subject so she didn’t inquire any further into the matter.
“Now, moving on,” the fairy said. “The main reason I called you here was to see how you’re feeling. I wanted to speak with you and Lucy individually to assure you both that, regardless of what lurks in the In-Between, you’re very safe within the perimeters of this academy. Still, I’m sure last night’s events were traumatic for you.”
“It was a brutal dose of reality,” Brystal said. “I’ve always known the world hated people like us, but I never thought someone would actually want to hurt me. It all feels so personal now.”
“Everyone thinks they’re immune to discrimination until it happens to them,” Madame Weatherberry said. “It only takes one tragic event to change your perspective forever.”
Brystal nodded. “Last night, those men spoke to us like we were objects without feelings or souls. We pleaded for our lives and told them they were making a mistake, but they didn’t even flinch. And although we did nothing wrong, they acted like we… like we… well, I don’t know how to say it.”
“Like you deserved to be punished simply for existing,” Madame Weatherberry said.
“Exactly,” Brystal said. “Thank God that knight showed up when he did, otherwise we would have been killed.”
“His name is Horence,” Madame Weatherberry said. “And believe me, my gratitude to him knows no bounds. He’s rescued me from countless episodes of peril.”
“Who is he?” Brystal asked. “Is he even human?”
“Not anymore,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Many years ago, Horence was a commander in the Northern Kingdom’s army. Along his travels, Horence had the misfortune of falling in love with a witch. The witch used to own a great deal of land in this area, including the grounds that our academy was built on. Naturally,
such a relationship was forbidden, so for over a decade, Horence and the witch carried on a secret affair. When Horence’s soldiers discovered the relationship, the men betrayed their commander. They burned Horence at the stake and forced the witch to watch it happen.”
“That’s terrible,” Brystal said.
“As you can imagine, the witch was devastated,” Madame Weatherberry continued. “To ease her broken heart, the witch conjured one of the darkest spells in witchcraft to bring Horence back to life. However, there are certain spells that are so ghastly they should never be performed, and the witch died in the process. Horence returned to life as a dark and unnatural being, a shell of the man he once was. Now he’s doomed to roam the witch’s property for eternity, and he spends his time saving others from suffering an untimely demise like his own.”
The tragic story made Brystal so angry her eyes welled.
“They just wanted to be together,” she said. “Why did humankind have to tear them apart? I’ll never understand why the world hates a community that just wants to be loved and accepted. I’ll never understand why people are so cruel to us.”
“It’s not about the prey, it’s about the hunt,” Madame Weatherberry said. “Humankind has always needed something to hate and fear to unite them. After all, if they had nothing to conquer and triumph over, they’d have nothing to fuel their sense of superiority. And some men would destroy the world for an ounce of self-worth. But that doesn’t mean humanity is a lost cause. As I told Emerelda in the coal mine, this academy could produce the examples that inspire humankind to change their hateful ways.”
Brystal shook her head and stared at her teacher in disbelief.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “After everything you’ve been through, how do you manage to stay so optimistic? Why aren’t you angry all the time?”
Madame Weatherberry went quiet as she thought about Brystal’s question, and then a confident smile grew on her face.
“Because we’re the lucky ones,” she said. “To fight for love and acceptance is to know love and acceptance. And anyone who actively tries to steal these qualities from others is admitting they’ve never known love at all. The people who want to hate and hurt us are so deprived of compassion they believe the only way to fill the voids in their hearts is to create voids in the hearts of others. So I render them powerless by refusing to accept their voids.”
