A Tale of Magic...

by Chris Colfer

  In the very back of the great room, an old woman was feeding a crate of live chickens to a massive bouquet of Venus flytraps. The plants caught the birds with their snapping jaws and swallowed them whole. It was an unnerving scene to walk in on, and the classmates froze halfway through the room, but Rosette happily skipped up to the old woman without hesitation.

  “Auntie Floraline, we have visitors!” she announced.

  Floraline Meadows was a very short woman with a wide mouth and abnormally long earlobes. She had two braids of silver hair and wore a smock made from autumn leaves. To the Venus flytraps’ dismay, the old woman put a lid over the chicken crate and took a break from the feeding to meet her guests.

  “Auntie Floraline, these are my new friends Brystal, Lucy, Emerelda, Xanthous, Tangerina, and Skylene,” Rosette introduced. “New friends, this is my aunt, Sorceress Floraline Meadows.”

  The Sorceress studied the classmates with very untrusting eyes.

  “Are you customers?” she asked them.

  “No,” Brystal said.

  “Are you solicitors?”

  “No.”

  “Then what are you doing in my canyon?”

  “We’re here by accident,” Brystal explained. “A tribe of trolls and a colony of goblins chased us off the cliff. We don’t want to disturb you, but we’d really appreciate it if you could tell us how to get out of here.”

  The Sorceress was still suspicious and raised an eyebrow at the classmates.

  “You’re awfully young to be in the In-Between by yourselves,” she said. “Where are you coming from?”

  “Madame Weatherberry’s Academy of Magic,” Skylene said.

  “Huh, sounds fancy,” the old woman said. “I didn’t know there were academies for people like us.”

  “It’s the first of its kind,” Skylene said, and beamed with pride.

  “Well, la-di-da,” the Sorceress sang. “To leave the canyon, go to the northwest corner of the gardens and make a left turn at the Grove of Glassware. You’ll find a ladder that leads back to the In-Between.”

  “Thank you,” Brystal said. “We’ll be on our way. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Thanks for dropping by,” Rosette said. “No pun intended!”

  The classmates headed for the door, but when Brystal turned back to wave good-bye, she noticed that Tangerina hadn’t moved. The apprentice was inquisitively looking back and forth between the Sorceress and the bouquet of Venus flytraps.

  “Just out of curiosity,” Tangerina said, “when you said people like us, what were you referring to? Do Sorceresses practice magic or witchcraft?”

  “Magic for the most part,” the old woman said. “But I’ve been known to be a bit of a witch from time to time. It just depends on what kind of mood I’m in.”

  The Sorceress laughed at her own joke, but the students and apprentices didn’t understand why it was funny. On the contrary, the remark only confused them.

  “You’re not being serious, are you?” Tangerina asked.

  “Of course I’m being serious,” the old woman said. “I didn’t get these ears from sticking to magic over the years. I don’t use it often, but occasionally a little witchcraft goes a long way.”

  “But that isn’t possible,” Tangerina said. “You’re born either a fairy or a witch. No one gets to choose.”

  The Sorceress was stunned by Tangerina’s assertion.

  “Young lady, what on earth are you talking about?” she asked. “Having magical abilities isn’t a choice, but no one in the magical community is born a fairy or a witch. We all get to be whatever we want, whenever we want. Personally, I’ve never identified as one or the other, that’s why I call myself a sorceress.”

  “That… that… that’s not true,” Tangerina argued. “Fairies are born with goodness in their hearts, and therefore can only practice magic. Witches are born with wickedness in their hearts, and therefore can only practice witchcraft.”

  “And who taught you that nonsense?” the Sorceress asked.

  “Our teacher did,” Tangerina said.

  “Well, I hate to break it to you, but your teacher is wrong,” the old woman said. “Nothing in this universe is black-and-white. Even the darkest nights have a degree of light, and the brightest days have a pinch of darkness. The world is full of duality, and we get to choose where we stand in all of it.”

  The Sorceress was very persuasive as she stated her case, but the classmates couldn’t accept it. If she was telling them the truth, then everything they knew about magic, and the very foundation of Madame Weatherberry’s academy, was all a lie.

  “No, I don’t believe you!” Skylene objected. “Madame Weatherberry would never lie to us! You’re clearly a witch, because you’re trying to trick us!”

  “Look, you can believe whatever you want to believe, but I’m not trying to trick anyone,” the Sorceress said. “Here, I’ll prove it to you.”

  The old woman pointed to the ground, and a large flower grew out of the thatched floor. It was the most gorgeous plant the classmates had ever seen, and its rosy petals were so vibrant the flower practically glowed. After the children had a chance to admire it, and fall in love with its beauty, the Sorceress clenched her fist and the flower began to whither. Its color faded, its petals broke away, its stem weakened, and the plant decayed into a mound of dirt.

  “See?” the old woman said. “Magic and witchcraft.”

  The demonstration was quick and simple, but it proved the Sorceress was correct. Brystal and her classmates were distressed as they stared at the flower’s remains. Their minds were racing as they reevaluated everything Madame Weatherberry had ever said.

  “But why did she lie about it?” Brystal asked. “Why would Madame Weatherberry act like fairies and witches were different species if it was just a preference?”

  “You could ask our Tree of Truth,” Rosette suggested.

  “A Tree of Truth?” Lucy said. “Okay, now you’re just yanking our tail feathers.”

  “No, it’s real!” Rosette said. “The Tree of Truth is a magic tree that produces honesty. It may answer your questions about your teacher. There’s only one left in Greenhouse Canyon. We had to stop selling them because they were driving our customers mad.”

  “Is it safe?” Brystal asked.

  “As long as you can handle the truth,” the Sorceress said. “Most people can’t.”

  Brystal wasn’t confident she could, either. Learning that Madame Weatherberry had lied about something so significant was crushing enough, but Brystal would be devastated if she discovered the fairy had lied for dishonorable reasons. However, nothing seemed more daunting than another unanswered question, so Brystal welcomed the opportunity to find the truth.

  “All right,” she said. “Take me to the tree.”

  Rosette and the Sorceress escorted their guests to the opposite side of Greenhouse Canyon. At the end of the dirt path, at the top of a tiny hill, was a small white tree. At first, the Tree of Truth looked very normal, but as the classmates walked closer, they noticed its bark was covered in carvings of human eyes. Brystal cautiously climbed the hill and stood before the tree, but she didn’t know what to do next.

  “How does it work?” she asked.

  “Take one of its branches into the palm of your hand,” the Sorceress instructed. “Then close your eyes, clear your head, and ask it the questions on your mind.”

  Brystal took a deep breath and held a branch. As soon as her hand closed around it, Brystal was transported far away from Greenhouse Canyon. She wasn’t standing on a hill in the middle of the gardens anymore, but on a hill that floated miles above the ground. The clouds flowed beneath her like a rushing river, and the stars twinkled so clearly above her that they seemed within reach. When she looked back at the Tree of Truth, the carvings on its trunk and branches suddenly opened and became real human eyes—and every single one was staring directly at her. Brystal assumed it was all in her mind, but that didn’t make it feel any less real.


  “Do you have a question?” said a deep voice that echoed through the sky around her.

  “That depends,” Brystal said. “Do you really give honest answers?”

  “I cannot predict the future, or read someone’s thoughts, but I know all that is, and all that was,” the voice responded.

  Brystal still had doubts about the Tree of Truth, so she started with a few simple questions to test the tree’s authenticity.

  “Where was I born?” she asked.

  “Chariot Hills,” the voice answered.

  “And where did I attend school?”

  “The Chariot Hills School for Future Wives and Mothers.”

  “What does my mother do for a living?”

  “Everything your father doesn’t.”

  The last question had been a trick question, but Brystal was impressed by how the Tree of Truth had answered it. She decided not to waste any more time testing its accuracy and skipped to the questions she was there for.

  “Is it true that all members of the magical community are born the same? And that being a fairy or a witch is just a preference?” Brystal asked.

  “Yes,” the tree said.

  “Then why did Madame Weatherberry lie to us?” she asked.

  “The same reason everyone lies,” the tree said. “To hide the truth.”

  “But why did she need to hide it? Why does Madame Weatherberry want us to believe there is a difference between fairies and witches if there isn’t?”

  “I cannot see her exact motivation, but I can give insight on why others tell similar lies,” the tree offered.

  “Why?” Brystal asked.

  “When faced with discrimination, it is common for people to divide their communities into their oppressors’ definitions of right and wrong. By categorizing fairies as good and witches as bad, it’s possible that Madame Weatherberry was trying to gain acceptance for fairies by fueling hatred for witches.”

  The theory made sense, but if the tree was right, that meant Madame Weatherberry was encouraging humankind to hate and harm members of her own community—and Brystal couldn’t imagine Madame Weatherberry wishing hate or harm on anyone.

  “So is that the real reason she published The Truth About Magic? Are the incantations supposed to help humankind discover and persecute witches?”

  “The incantation for witchcraft is fake,” the tree said. “The incantation for magic is the only genuine spell in her book.”

  The revelation puzzled Brystal even more. She was starting to think the Tree of Truth should be called the Tree of Frustration, because everything it said made the situation more complicated. Her mind was spiraling into different directions, but as Brystal concentrated on the facts, it slowly dawned on her why Madame Weatherberry had done what she did.

  “I think I understand now,” Brystal said. “If Madame Weatherberry convinced humankind to only discriminate against witches, and convinced everyone in the magical community that they were fairies—it would save everyone! She pretended the community was divided to protect it from humankind—while still giving humankind something to hate and fear! Right?”

  “Noble people usually lie for noble reasons,” the voice said. “Sadly, you’ll never know until you ask them yourself.”

  “How is Madame Weatherberry doing now? Is she still alive?”

  “Your teacher is still alive, but she’s been taken hostage by an evil energy,” the Tree of Truth said. “Very little of Madame Weatherberry remains, and the life that she clings to is being drained by her captor. It won’t be long until she loses the fight.”

  “She’s been captured?” Brystal asked in a panic. “Where is she being kept? Do we have time to save her?”

  “Madame Weatherberry is imprisoned deep within Tinzel Palace in the Northern Kingdom’s capital. However, if you continue down the winding paths of the In-Between, the chances of rescuing her are unlikely.”

  “Is there a faster way to get there?”

  “Ten miles north of Greenhouse Canyon, in the back of Black Bear Cave, you’ll find the entrance to an abandoned goblin tunnel. Take the tunnel, and you’ll arrive in Tinzel Heights in half the time.”

  “All right, we will!” Brystal said. “Thank you!”

  Brystal released the Tree of Truth’s branch from her grip and returned to the garden in Greenhouse Canyon. The trip back felt like she was falling to the earth all over again, and she screamed, causing all her classmates to jump.

  “Did something bite you?” Xanthous asked.

  “Sorry!” Brystal said. “I wasn’t expecting the trip back to be so jarring.”

  “What do you mean trip back?” Emerelda asked.

  “It doesn’t matter—I got the answers we wanted!” Brystal said. “Madame Weatherberry did lie to us about magic and witchcraft—but she was only doing it to protect the magical community. I’ll explain it all later because we have to go! If we don’t leave Greenhouse Canyon right now, we’ll never see Madame Weatherberry again!”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE NORTHERN FRONT

  Brystal and her classmates hurried out of Greenhouse Canyon and trekked through the In-Between as quickly as possible. The closer they traveled toward the Northern Kingdom, the more the temperature dropped, and each mile felt drastically colder than the one before. The children bundled themselves tightly in their coats to endure the chilly air, but the declining weather wasn’t nearly as bothersome as their sinking spirits. Brystal’s conversation with the Tree of Truth was difficult for her friends to process, and hearing about it took a visible toll on them. Even though Madame Weatherberry had lied to them for honorable reasons, the students and apprentices felt betrayed by their teacher. They lowered their heads and somberly walked through the forest in silence.

  When the group reached the halfway point between Greenhouse Canyon and Black Bear Cave, they took their first break since leaving the enchanted gardens. They sat on a fallen log to rest their feet, and Brystal decided to address the issue on their minds before they continued any farther.

  “I understand you’re all disappointed,” she said. “It’s never easy to find out you’ve been lied to by someone you love, but if you really think about it, the truth about fairies and witches doesn’t change anything. We’re still the same people we were at the academy, and Madame Weatherberry is still the same person we set out to save. Everything she’s ever done—writing The Truth About Magic, standing up to the Snow Queen, starting the academy—it’s all been to protect and gain acceptance for the magical community. We can forgive her for making a few mistakes along the way, can’t we?”

  The students thought about Madame Weatherberry’s intentions and ultimately agreed with Brystal’s perspective, but the apprentices weren’t convinced.

  “Tangerina? Skylene?” Brystal said. “I know this is more difficult for you two because you’ve known Madame Weatherberry the longest. It’s perfectly fine to feel whatever you’re feeling right now, but one day I think you’ll look back on this and—”

  “It’s not just about Madame Weatherberry,” Tangerina confessed. “I’ve always thought fairies were better than witches—and I liked feeling better than something else. It helped me cope with all the hatred the world sent us. Believing I was born that way made me feel valuable—like the universe was on my side.”

  “Me too,” Skylene said. “And we hated witches just like humankind hates us. But now we know we’re not better than witches—and we’re not any better than humankind, either.”

  Brystal knelt in front of her troubled friends and placed a hand on both of their knees.

  “We’re all just a couple of mistakes away from becoming the people we despise,” she said. “So don’t think worse of yourself, but let this change how you think of yourself. Start valuing who you are, more than what you are. Prove you’re better than most people by showing more acceptance and empathy. And fuel your pride with what you earn and create, instead of what you’re born with.”

  Tangerina and Skyle
ne went quiet as they considered Brystal’s encouraging proposal. The changes she suggested weren’t easy, and it would take a lot of time and hard work, but her message inspired them to try.

  “You’re really good at pep talks,” Tangerina said. “Like, sometimes it’s weird how good you are.”

  Brystal laughed. “I have a good teacher,” she said. “We all do.”

  After a short break, the classmates continued through the In-Between toward Black Bear Cave. Every few steps, Brystal compulsively checked her geography book to make sure they were going in the right direction. Within the hour, they arrived at an enormous cave at the side of a wide hill. The entrance was surrounded by several black boulders stacked to make the cave look like the mouth of a giant bear.

  “I’m guessing that’s Black Bear Cave,” Emerelda said.

  “Wait, do we think there are bears in there?” Xanthous asked.

  “Probably,” Lucy said. “I doubt Black Bear Cave got its name for housing flamingos.”

  “Doesn’t that worry anyone else?” he asked. “I mean, are we actually going inside a bear cave with a girl covered in honey?”

  Everyone turned to Tangerina and eyed her honeycomb jacket with concern.

  “Oh yeah,” Brystal said. “Xanthous brings up a good point.”

  Before they could discuss a possible precaution, the classmates were distracted by a freezing wind that blew through the forest. The wind was followed by a thunderous commotion, and suddenly, the dark woods became much darker. The group looked up and saw the gray clouds of a terrible storm rolling in from the north. As the clouds covered the sky, a powerful snowstorm surged through the In-Between like a white tsunami.