The Undercover Witch

by Gina LaManna

  Dimitrius stood tall, well over six feet high with the body of a former athlete. Big, bulky, probably once lean and lithe, he now carried extra weight where he would’ve previously had muscle. His arms were thick, like miniature tree trunks, and the hair that topped his head was so white it almost looked like he had none.

  His eyes were the most eerie of all. The color of slate, they shone a bluish-silver, like crystals beneath a layer of ice.

  “Welcome to my home,” Dimitrius said finally. In a deep voice, he spoke slowly, the words lilting with each phrase. “I hope you’ll find your conditions satisfactory.”

  “There’s actually one thing I wanted to discuss quickly.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mr. Raymond told me to bring it up to you,” I added. “I don’t mean to be a hassle my first day on the job, but it’s about the policies in the contract.”

  The King walked over to the wet bar, poured himself a glass of straight whiskey, then carried it back to where I had taken a seat on one of the couches. He took a seat in a leather armchair the size of a small bus.

  “I worked out a deal with Mr. Raymond where I had seven days to revise the stipulations—”

  “I know what goes on in my house,” he said. “And I’m aware of the contract. You asked to leave the castle tonight?”

  “Tonight…and the rest of the first week. I’d like to be at home until the details are finalized.”

  Instead of responding, he examined his glass, watching it expectantly. My eyes turned toward it as well, and to my surprise, something was happening. The lowball glass sat in the palm of his hand, and from the place where the cup touched his skin, small tendrils of sparkling frost snaked up the side of the glass. Eventually, they encircled the entire beverage in a dainty crisscross pattern of ice crystals.

  “If you touched this,” he said, holding the glass up higher so it glittered under the chandelier lights. “It would burn your hand much worse than it already is.”

  I looked down at my hands, shocked to find they were still blistered slightly from the previous day’s scramble in the library attic. I’d forgotten about it, having used a Healing Hex to take away the pain.

  For lack of a better comeback, I raised my eyebrows. “Ouch,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “About the contract,” I said again. “I’ll work as long as you want, but I would appreciate you allowing me to return home in the evenings.”

  “I’m sorry, but that cannot be arranged,” he said simply. Sitting back, he sipped the whiskey. “You are here to stay.”

  “I didn’t sign anything. I could walk out the front door right now.”

  “Could you?” He waved a hand in my direction and muttered a spell I’d only ever heard used by elite Agents who worked for MAGIC, Inc. “I suppose you can try.”

  I didn’t need to look at my hands and feet to know what I’d find. Still, I looked anyway. Thin vines twisted around my ankles. My wrists suffered the same fate. The spell he’d used was called a Criminal Curse on the streets—slang for the most popular strategy used to restrain unruly convicts in magical jails around the world.

  If I moved too close to an escape route, the vines would begin to tighten. Should I touch a window or a door, the vines would constrict so painfully I would probably pass out. In the event that I actually made it outside, via any method possible, the vines would creep over my body, squeezing tight as a boa constrictor until I lost all oxygen. If someone reached me quickly, I might survive.

  “Lovely jewelry,” I said, holding up my wrist for him to see. “How do you explain this to your non-magical housekeepers? Obviously, you’ve realized I’m a witch.”

  He laughed. “At least you don’t lie. Mr. Raymond must have told you I liked that in a person.”

  “He might’ve mentioned it,” I said wryly.

  Though my words played it cool, inside I was panicking. Nobody had ever invented a counter curse to this spell, hence the reason it was so effective in jails. The only way I knew to get out of it was through an Agent who’d taken classes to release criminals, and they were a rare breed, most of them so busy they’d never be around to help.

  “I figured you were here to spy on me, or something of the sort.” Mr. Frost shrugged. “Spy away, I have nothing to hide.”

  “I’m not here to spy.”

  “A Guardian isn’t here to spy? That doesn’t make you very good at your job then, does it?”

  Whatever response I’d prepared froze in my throat.

  “Yes, of course I know who you are, Ainsley. I don’t let strangers walk into my home. From what I understand in my research, you are a terrible housekeeper. Luckily, I’m feeling generous, and I’ll let you figure out the ways of the feather duster. Sweeping and vacuuming shouldn’t be too complicated for someone as brilliant as you.”

  I had underestimated the Frost King. This whole plan had been a stupid idea to get involved in something I should’ve left alone in the first place. Why hadn’t I mentioned my stupid plan to Mr. Davis this morning? He surely would’ve talked me out of it, that’s why. He would’ve told me to find another way inside, a safer way. Unfortunately, sometimes mine was a job that required risks, and I wasn’t one to shy away from them. I just hated when they didn’t work out in my favor.

  “I can see I’ve surprised you, which is good,” he said. “I like to stay sharp. The rules here are simple. Do your job, listen to instructions, and don’t make trouble.”

  “That’s not very specific,” I said, finding my ability to speak again.

  “I’ll leave it up to interpretation. For now, you can start on the first-floor bathrooms.”

  I stood numbly, walking toward the elevator dock in the center of the room. “One more thing,” I said, glancing back to where the Frost King was sipping his whiskey. “Why not let me go?”

  “It’s for your safety. We prefer to keep an eye on our employees’ well-being.”

  On a whim, I lobbed a second question, hoping to catch him off guard. “Does this have something to do with the theft? I saw the safe. The jewels are gone.”

  A flash of icy-hot fury burned through his eyes, and then it was gone. “The necklaces are gone, yes. The magical royal necklaces of our family have been stolen, precious heirlooms of the Frost family for generations.

  A hint of a smile toyed at my lips, and I fought it back. The king hadn’t realized his slip-up yet, but I had; he’d confirmed that it had been necklaces in the safe. Stolen by one of his sisters, maybe? “They weren’t stolen for the money?”

  The Frost King waved his hand, gestured to the riches around him. “Do I look as if I need more money? If someone wanted to steal something of value, they wouldn’t have chosen those pieces. No, whoever stole the necklaces wants something else, something more.”

  “Why did you tell the police there was no theft?”

  He paused, his eyes landing on me with a chill. “Because it appears one of our own took them. I suggest you keep an eye out, Ainsley, because in our midst we have a liar. Now, the bathrooms are waiting.”

  Chapter 24

  One would think having magic powers would make cleaning a cinch. However, by the end of the day, I was just as wiped as if I’d been on my hands and knees all day long. I moved through the house quickly, but I couldn’t just wave a finger and put everything in place; magic took time, and precision, and energy. By the time the dinner hour rolled around, I was exhausted.

  Mr. Raymond had swung by and offered me a sandwich during the lunch hour, but that hadn’t been enough to keep me full, so I’d swiped a few apples from the refrigerator as I trudged my way down the hall to the bedroom that served as a prison. I thought about finding Mr. Raymond to give him a piece of my mind, but I was too tired to fight for my freedom.

  Throughout the day, I’d felt eyes on me. From time to time, Dimitrius himself stopped by and watched as I worked. He made no comments whatsoever, so I ignored him as best I could.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Raymond scurri
ed around the castle in a permanent state of nervous energy, dusting and cleaning things I’d already done myself. I suspected he’d never held a rag in his life before that afternoon because he made every surface ten times worse. He was such a poor housekeeper that I ended up cleaning everything twice. He must’ve been anxious to impress the Frost King with his choice of new hire because at one point, he merely stared at the wall for twenty minutes while I vacuumed the living room, mumbling about an uneven painting.

  Then, there were the times of eerie silence—for example, the moment when I’d been cleaning the drawing room and felt someone staring intently at my back. I had whipped around, but nobody was there. Turning back to the chair I’d been plumping, I couldn’t shake the sense of being watched.

  I had a feeling it was the same shadow I’d seen in the windows. Could it have been the king’s sister? Or was it another someone entirely, held captive in this exquisite jail just like me? Whatever the situation, I needed to find him or her, and I needed to find a way out of there. Then, I’d figure out how to stop the Frost King and whatever he had up his sleeve.

  Pushing open the door to my bedroom, I let all thoughts from the day lapse, shedding the stiff black dress for a pair of button-down flannel pajamas someone had left on my bed. The fabric smelled clean and fresh, in an unscented, recently washed sort of way. I slid under the covers, sighing as my sore muscles relaxed, glad I had another few days until I was due back at the library. Surely I’d be out of there before then.

  However, as my head hit the pillow, my eyes flashed open.

  Beck!

  I’d completely forgotten about him. I’d meant to slip away during my lunch hour and wave to him, but that had been before I’d realized my lunch hour consisted of a soggy sandwich in one hand as I sorted through the cupboards with the other. Reaching under the pillow where I’d stashed my phone, I pulled it out and cursed when the service bars showed zero.

  I should have known it wouldn’t work in here; the magic would be too strong—not to mention the thick cement walls surrounding the castle would prevent any transmissions from coming in or going out. Not one record of a call or text had come through, which meant my phone hadn’t been working all day. I knew this for a fact because even if Beck hadn’t called, my mother would have.

  Then, I remembered the walkie talkie. Praising Beck for being so smart, I pulled it out and switched on the receiver. “Hello?” I said, pressing the transmit button. “Detective Hotterson, are you there? Come in. This is Ainsley.”

  There was a long, long pause. My heart sank. I should have guessed this wouldn’t work either, but somehow, I’d let myself hope. I reached for the walkie again, intent to try until I either succeeded or fell asleep. However, the crackle of static interrupted my efforts.

  I popped up into a sitting position, holding the walkie talkie to my ear. “Hello? Hello, can you hear me?”

  There was a pause, and then…

  A throat cleared on the other end.

  “You’re there!” I cried. “You can hear me!”

  “I think so,” he said slowly, his voice ringing crystal clear. “But I’m sorry, did you just call me Detective Hotterson?”

  I was ready to die. I flung myself toward the pillow, smooshing my face into the soft feathers while I muttered a few words that would’ve gotten me kicked straight out of my grandmother’s finishing school.

  “No, you must have heard me wrong,” I said. “I didn’t say that.”

  He laughed. “Okay, then.”

  “It’s a code name!” I said quickly. “You know, call me…something. Your choice.”

  “Code name,” he said, unconvinced. “Sure. Do you normally use code names in your cleaning business?”

  I remembered with a start that Beck had no clue about the depth of what was happening inside the castle. Sure, he suspected some funny business after his interactions with the previous maid, but he had no idea I was desperate and trapped inside. He had no idea the man who owned the house was the King of the North, or that thin magic bracelets circled each of my limbs, holding me captive.

  “Listen, I need some help, but hold on a second.” I hesitated, listening as I held the button down so Beck’s voice couldn’t come over the airwaves.

  A creak sounded out in the hall, quiet, stealthy. Someone was outside the door, eavesdropping.

  Still depressing the button, I hurried toward my closet, crouching into a low ball behind the layers of black dresses. “Beck,” I said, whispering as quietly as I possibly could. “I need a donut. A donut, do you hear me?” I didn’t dare release the button for fear he’d speak back. “Don’t talk,” I whispered. “I’m going to try to get to your vehicle. Be ready for me.”

  Murmuring a silencing spell over the walkie talkie, I prayed it would work on electronics the same way it did with humans. After a few minutes of petrifying silence, I finally began to breathe easier.

  Leaning out of the closet, I peered toward the door. I hadn’t heard another creak for several minutes. Had I imagined it? Or had my visitor left? I was just in the middle of sticking one foot out of the closet when the lock began turning slowly and the door opened.

  Letting out a blood-curdling cry, I leaped from the closet and threw a Binding Spell at the intruder. However, the other person was faster, deflecting my spell and sending it right back at me.

  I dodged out of the way, missing it by mere inches. Stumbling, I pulled myself to my feet and looked at the visitor, my hands lowering when I caught sight of her face. “It’s you,” I breathed. “What do you want with me?”

  “I heard you talking on that thing,” she said, gesturing toward the walkie talkie. “And I know you have a way out of here. If you take me with you, I can help you escape.”

  Chapter 25

  “Why do you want to help me?” I asked in the stillness that followed.

  The figure, the same woman who’d warned me away from the castle, pulled back her hood. Eyes of crystal shone back at me, her blindingly white hair cascading down her back, framing impossibly smooth skin with the brightness of a halo.

  “You know who I am,” she said lightly, her voice dancing through the room like a choir of bells. “I’m Fiona, the daughter of the true Frost King, the Ice Princess of the Iron Range.”

  “Daughter?” I blinked. “But the man upstairs—”

  “He is my brother,” she interrupted. “And he is the man who killed our father.”

  “If you leave now, you’ll be in danger.”

  “I’ll take that risk, Ainsley.”

  “How does everyone know my name around here?” I asked, exasperated.

  She stepped inside the room and shut the door behind her, gliding over the ground like an illusion. “I’m curious, what do you think is happening here, inside the castle? Why did you come back when I told you to stay away?”

  “I…I don’t know,” I said finally. I hedged my bets and held back the information about my boss’s phone call. “It started on the day of the robbery, I suppose. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and then…one thing led to another, and I caught a glimpse of a shadow in the window.”

  “Me?” she asked curiously.

  “Unless there’s someone else living here,” I said. “It was eerie; something felt wrong about it, as if whoever was hiding away upstairs might need help.”

  “Why did you think you were the one to help?”

  I knew my motives must seem weak to her. I hadn’t explained about the prophecy, the information my dad had shared with me, or most importantly, the somewhat cryptic phone call from a high profile individual at MAGIC, Inc. asking for my help.

  It was because of all this that I considered my answer carefully. “I’m a Guardian. I help people, that’s what I do. It’s not a job I can turn off and on, like…like clocking in and out at a bank. It’s a way of life, it’s a part of me, and I thought someone was in trouble. First the previous maid, and then you… I’m sorry. I don’t belong here, but something wasn’t right,
and I wanted to help, needed to help.”

  She eyed me from head to toe, as if deciding whether or not I was telling the truth. Finally, she nodded.

  “My turn,” I said. “Why do you want to escape?”

  “The last housekeeper is safe,” she said. “I helped her get away from here, but just barely.”

  “You helped her escape?” My chest filled with a happiness I didn’t expect. Maybe, even though I hadn’t said it aloud, I’d assumed the worst. “Where is she? Was she one of us?”

  “A hidden location. She’s alive and secure, that’s all I can tell you. A magical safe house. Yes, she’s one of us.”

  “Then why did she call the human police force?”

  “That much was an accident. Mr. Raymond has been experimenting with new, human-style security features for the castle. They hadn’t yet been approved by Dimitrius, and he wasn’t supposed to have activated them. It was a mistake.”

  “The maid covered for him?”

  She nodded. “Raymond hadn’t realized that when a human alarm sounds, it automatically alerts the human police. Since the maid was hoping to retire and leave the castle anyway, she took the blame, and then asked for my help to escape.”

  “I’m glad she’s safe.”

  “Me too.”

  “However, I suspect your brother has a bigger plan,” I said, taking a chance on the princess. “I found a prophecy in the Library of Greats, and I think it has to do with your family.”

  She inhaled a breath. “You found out what it says?”

  I hesitated. “Yes.”

  “What did it say?”

  I didn’t want to be the one to tell her, because if it had accurately predicted the future, the end looked grim for her. “I don’t remember—”

  “You do,” she said. “What does it say? Something about me?”

  “It says that your brother killed the previous king,” I began. “That your brother becoming the Frost King would end the cycle that’s been going on for years.”

  “Yes,” she said curtly, a bit of bitterness underlying her words. “And did it say if he’d be stopped?”