The Undercover Witch

by Gina LaManna

  “I don’t know if it’s true…”

  “Tell me.”

  “Only you and your sister can defeat him together. One of the siblings alone cannot defeat another.”

  “One of us will die.”

  “I don’t know. The meaning is not clear.”

  “Are you in the prophecy?”

  Her question surprised me. I hadn’t really considered myself to be the helping hand listed there but, now that I thought about it, I couldn’t be sure, and I told her so.

  She digested the information with her chin tilted high. “My brother is a horrible person, and he should never have been king. My father, the previous king, was going to give control of the Iron Range to my sister.”

  “The Fire Princess? Margot?”

  She nodded. “But he was found dead before that could happen, and now our people are held under my brother’s reign of terror, and he must be stopped—whatever the cost.”

  The princess’s eyes glittered in a way that made her seem more intelligent than her years. She couldn’t be more than twenty-five at the most, but she had a calmness about her, a regal sense that ran in her blood.

  “But you’ll need your sister to help.”

  She took a few steps closer, digging into the pockets of her iridescent robes and pulling out two beautiful pieces of jewelry. “The keys to my brother’s end.”

  Two necklaces, both more gorgeous than anything I’d ever seen, sat entwined in her palm, the beading so exquisite I could stare at it for hours and never lose interest. One of the strands was covered with diamonds a shade of blue like liquid sapphire, the other a red so vibrant it was as if the very insides of the beads were alive with fire. I felt myself pulled toward them, stepping across the room even as the princess closed her fist and tucked the gems back in her pocket.

  “Stay back,” she said. “They’re dangerous.”

  “You have the necklaces?” I asked incredulously. “But—”

  To my surprise, she smiled. A smile tinged with sadness, but a smile all the same.

  “These are our royal jewels,” Fiona explained. She held them gingerly, running a loving finger over the beads. “They are handed down from one generation to the next, each set of twin princesses holding them during their time on the throne.”

  I watched her fingers pause, toy with an opaque pearl.

  “But Dimitrius had other plans. The second he took power, he ordered the necklaces under heavy guard. He knew what lengths we’d go to in order to get them back; they are our history, our past, our blood.”

  She sighed, closing her fist and glancing toward me. “My brother thinks he’s been protecting me the whole time I’ve been here in the castle. Really, I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to steal the necklaces back. Then, we’ll be free, and I’ll join my sister.”

  “Doesn’t he suspect anything?”

  “I suppose he does, but I’ve been careful. He won’t order the guards to search me; it’d make him seem weak, as if he can’t control his own sister, who should respect him above all. No, he’ll bide his time.”

  “What do you mean he thinks he’s been protecting you?”

  She pulled her sleeves up, revealing vines across her arms that were mirror images of mine. “It looks like he decided to ‘protect’ you the same way he did me. We won’t get very far out of the castle with these.”

  My heart sank. “I haven’t figured out the solution to these. MAGIC, Inc. uses them for criminals, and we haven’t had one person break free in the entire time since we added these to the system.”

  “Oh, these are no trouble,” she said surprisingly with a flick of a smile. “I figured a way out of these bindings by the time I was six. No other witches and wizards can get out of these handcuffs, it’s true, but I have a skill they don’t.”

  The temperature around us plummeted, her ability launching into effect immediately. Goosebumps skittered across my flesh as she closed her eyes, the shade of her lips morphing from pale pink to shimmering white. Alarmed, I watched as tendrils of ice snaked from her palms and encircled the vine.

  The temperature continued to drop until eventually, steam rose from her wrists. A pop like ice giving way on a lake sounded, and her bindings fell to the ground, shattered.

  “Wow,” I breathed. “That’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “Like I said, it’s a special skill.”

  Then, she made quick work of her ankle bindings. “It’s negative one hundred degrees Celsius,” she said. “There’s no spell in the world that can give you temperatures that low unless you’re born into the Frost Family. Anyone else would die trying to use it.”

  After freeing herself, she began wrapping my wrists with her white robes. She slipped them between the vine-like bindings and my skin. It was warm, the material soft against my skin.

  “The robes are to protect you from the spell,” she said.

  I watched as her hands rose before her. Carefully, she placed her fingers on the vine, and only the vine. With precise movements, she danced her touch over the restraints, never once touching the robes or my skin. Then, she closed her eyes as she focused her power on the restraints until they too fell shattered to the ground. When she finished, I ran my hands over my wrists, shivering at the cool temperature of my own skin. She removed my ankle bindings in the same manner. “Thank you,” I said.

  “It was the least I could do.” Fiona said.

  “He doesn’t suspect you know how to break out of those?”

  “I imagine not,” she said. “Otherwise, he would have killed me.”

  A stony silence followed. “I’m sorry,” I said eventually.

  “He must have guessed that the prophecy called for his sisters to defeat him,” she said. “That’s probably why he tried to keep me subdued, and why he hid the necklaces. Margot escaped right away, smart girl, but now, we can’t run, can’t hide any longer. It’s time his reign comes to an end.”

  “Does your sister know about your plan?”

  She nodded. “We’ve been working together since our father passed. It was only a matter of time before we put all the pieces together.”

  “And the necklaces?”

  “Symbolize our powers. To defeat our brother, each sister will have to be in possession of their respective gems.”

  I nodded. “And where is she?”

  “In transit. She’ll be returning to the Iron Range soon enough—hopefully by the time I make my escape, which is where you come into play. I can’t make it back to the north without your help. I’d hardly make it down the driveway.”

  “How—”

  “No time!” She hissed for me to hurry toward the window and pulled me down. Creaks sounded against the floorboards toward the far end of the hallway. Someone was approaching, and fast. She lowered her voice and sent me a piercing look. “Will you help me?”

  The footsteps in the hallway grew nearer.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “I might have an idea. Listen closely.”

  Chapter 26

  Clad in the black dress of the staff, Fiona Frost—the Ice Princess—and I hurried out of the bedroom. We each carried a trash bin I’d scrounged up. Inside of my bin was the overnight bag I’d packed—no sense leaving behind perfectly good clothes if I could help it.

  Meanwhile, Fiona had her discarded white robes wrapped around her hair like a towel. The front draped just far enough over her eyes for it to obscure her features. The disguise wouldn’t hold up under intense scrutiny, but it might be enough to make it to the front door.

  Footsteps came toward us from down the hall, the distinct click of Mr. Raymond’s shoes drawing closer. I quickened my pace, hiding Fiona behind me as we kept on course.

  Without looking up from a clipboard and a stack of papers, Mr. Raymond called down the hallway. “Lilah, is that you?”

  I felt Fiona’s eyes land on me. “Yes,” I said. “Just taking out the trash. What do you need?” I waved subtly with my hand for Fiona to go
around. She passed Mr. Raymond before he noticed another person was present.

  “I was wondering…” He paused then, turning around, as if he’d forgotten something. He hardly noticed Fiona’s figure as she scurried away. “Sorry, I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours. What was I going to say?”

  “That’s definitely not good for the bags under your eyes.”

  “I have bags?” His hands flew to his face, pressing the area lightly. “I knew this job was terrible for my complexion. Anyway…what on earth did I come here for?”

  I briefly wondered if Fiona had sent a Hazing Hex in his direction. Sleep deprived or not, Mr. Raymond didn’t seem like the sort of person to forget things.

  “You probably wanted to tell me where to dump the trash, but I found it earlier,” I offered. “Can I get on with it before this whole hallway starts to smell like fish?”

  Distractedly, he put his pen in his mouth and nodded for me to move on, muttering the whole time about clean linens. I made it to the front door in thirty seconds.

  “Through there,” Fiona whispered. “We’ll take the trash out the back entrance.”

  She led me through a smaller offshoot of a main hallway, dragging me deep into the underbelly of the castle before we emerged on the other side.

  “If we go out around back, the dumpsters should hide us from most wandering eyes,” she said. “I’ve mapped out an exact path that will get us around all of the security measures.”

  “Are there a lot of security measures?”

  “Wires, trips, there’s rumored to be an explosive,” she said with a shrug. “Then there are the guards, the charms, and the hexes. The grounds are a minefield.”

  “So, not really much at all,” I said, my voice colored with sarcasm. “I shouldn’t be worried.”

  She frowned. “I told you, I mapped out the perfect path. I tested it out the other day when I came to find you.”

  “Any issues?”

  She hesitated.

  Narrowing my eyes, I wrapped a hand around her wrist. “What happened?”

  “I set off a spell and the guards were alerted. They were on me in four seconds.”

  “How’d you get out of the mess?”

  “I’m the Ice Princess,” she said slowly, as if speaking to an elephant. “I have special privileges. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I was still on the grounds.”

  I sat back. “Right.”

  “We’ll be fine.” She pulled her wrist out of my grasp, then gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I promise. Just step exactly where I do, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

  Nodding my agreement, I followed closely behind the princess as we approached the door that would lead us to freedom—or immediate imprisonment.

  “Let’s go. I haven’t ridden in a car in ages, and I can’t wait to try it.”

  Without further ado, Fiona pushed through the back door and weaved her way through the darkest recesses of the grounds. Around trees, through bushes, over and under bridges leading from one sparkling pond to the next. Somehow, someway, I danced behind Fiona as she painstakingly picked her way through the obstacles.

  By the time we reached the front gate, both of us were nearly giddy with excitement. Although it was barely ten p.m., the sky was dark, and we used the shadows to our advantage.

  “This way.” I took the lead, gesturing for her to follow close as we stepped through the gates, hardly believing we’d made it off the grounds. The night was cool, the air crisp and chilly—or at least I thought so, until I realized it was just the puffs of Fiona’s breaths giving me goosebumps. “I can’t believe we made it out.”

  “Where’s the car?”

  I pointed down the road, my heart jumping for joy at the sight of Beck’s head behind the wheel. I’d never been more thrilled to see a human in my life. Despite all the frost in the air, my heart melted.

  “Climb in the back,” I told Fiona as the detective’s eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I’ll explain everything in a minute.”

  Beck accepted Fiona’s presence without question. Then he took off like a getaway driver, his motions smooth and calm. “Am I headed someplace in particular?” he asked, pulling away from the castle.

  I grinned, then rattled off the address to my parents’ home. “Thank you, Detective.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t think I’d be meeting the parents this quickly.”

  “First time for everything,” I said as my face reddened. “Kidding, by the way.”

  Fiona let out a high-pitched giggle from the backseat.

  “And who are you?” he asked, looking in the rearview mirror. “A friend of Ainsley’s?”

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s the short answer.”

  “Do I want to know the long answer?”

  “I’ll trade you for the medium answer,” I said. “Don’t ask too many questions now. We have to get to my parents’ house before someone finds us. We’re sort of on the run.”

  “Oh, you lead an exciting life, Ainsley Shaw.”

  “If you don’t want any part of this, I understand,” I said. “In fact, you should probably go home right now.”

  “How are you going to get home if I tell you to get out of the car?” Beck asked.

  “I was going to ask to borrow your car.”

  He laughed. “I promise I’ll behave; let’s meet your parents.”

  Chapter 27

  “We’re here,” I said, gesturing toward the side of the road. “You can park anywhere on the street.”

  “Which house?” Beck asked, his eyes scanning the road. “I can’t read the addresses.”

  “No need.”

  “But—”

  “So, there’s one thing I didn’t tell you,” I said. “We’re not technically meeting my parents. I’d sort of prefer if they don’t actually know we’re around.”

  He looked over at me. “Worried I’ll say something offensive?”

  “Quite the opposite,” I muttered. “I’m worried they’ll scare you away for good.”

  Beck pulled over to the side of the road, parked behind a large SUV, and pulled me toward him before getting out of the car. “Hey,” he said softly as Fiona looked away. “I’m tougher than you think. Meeting your parents doesn’t scare me, even if we’ve only had one date. Whatever they’re like, it wouldn’t keep me away from a second date with you.”

  I forced a smile, thinking he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. “It’s just best if we don’t get them involved with…this.” I tilted my head toward Fiona. “Not yet. I just need some time to think.”

  “I understand.” He reached down and grasped my hand in his. Then he lifted it to his lips and brushed a kiss against my knuckles. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No,” I said after some thought. “Stay, if you’d like.”

  We made a curious group, the three of us: two witches wearing maid uniforms and one off-duty human cop. It was the start to a bad joke in some universe, I thought as we scrambled through the low bushes next to my parents’ garage. I waved them over and pointed toward the sky.

  “See that treehouse?” It stood high off the ground, and from the outside, it looked quite ordinary. Inside, it could’ve doubled as a science lab with all its ingredients, beakers, and tiny burners built to hold flames of magic. When it wasn’t being used as a dressing room for pretend princesses, my father had used it to work on the inventions my mother didn’t allow inside the house. “That’s where we’re going.”

  A few minutes later, we’d all climbed into the treehouse.

  “Anyone see us?” I asked breathing heavily. Beck had gone up first and been the lookout as Fiona and I climbed inside.

  He shook his head. Then he turned around, his spine going rigid. “What is this place?”

  I surveyed the benches and tables of potion-making things and considered several options, finally landing on some version of the truth. “My dad likes to experiment, and when I was younger, we used to come up here and work on little pr
ojects together.”

  He took a few leisurely steps around the room, examining the vials and beakers and potions as he moved. “Strange stuff,” he said. Then, as if he realized that could be taken the wrong way, he glanced up at me. “I mean, very neat. A fun project to have with your dad, I bet.”

  “Most of the time, except when things exploded.”

  “Things exploded?” Beck looked mildly concerned.

  “No,” I lied, remembering the time my dad’s attempt at a hair-curling potion had gone up in flames on my head. It’d burnt the bangs right off me the day before high school started. My yearbook pictures couldn’t be fixed with all the magic in the world. “It was a joke.”

  He set down a jar filled with all colors of rose petals. “You are full of surprises, Ainsley.”

  “Oh, I’m quite boring,” I said. “Now, here’s the plan—”

  Before I could continue, my phone beeped no less than fifty times. Both Fiona and Beck looked expectantly at me while I glanced around the treehouse in confusion.

  “Oh,” I said finally. “That must be all my messages from today coming in. I had no service in the estate. Sorry, one second. It’s probably just my mom.”

  Just in case I’d missed an urgent message (or maybe Millie texting me to say the entire library had burned down), I scanned through my texts. Sure enough, twenty-six messages from my mother hit my phone all at once.

  Mom: Good morning, dear.

  Mom: Dear, are you awake?

  Mom: Text me when you’re awake, I want to tell you something.

  Mom: Ainsley!

  Mom: Ainsley, I’m going to tell you something. Call me when you wake up.

  Mom: Have you been reassigned? Are you busy?

  Mom: Ainsley, I’m having dinner tonight, and I think you should be here. I’m inviting a friend.

  Mom: Call me. Dinner has started, but it’s not too late.

  Mom: Ains, please. You know what I said about checking in once a day. You know I worry with your job.

  Mom: Okay, maybe you had a busy day. Please call me before bed.