The Traveler Witch (Sister Witches Book 2)

by Colleen Luddington

  “To begin,” Dottie took over, “it would be a bad idea to enter the Elven Realm with an ax. They do not appreciate any who take trees before they naturally die, so axes are viewed as evil. In terms of cleansing sticks or the like, I do not think you will need them. Elves, truly, enjoy the company of witches.”

  “Should we bring water?”

  “They have water in all the realms.” Anona laughed, then stopped. “Well… probably not in any fire dominated realm, but we don’t think you are heading there.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Mirabelle suddenly found a smidgen of courage. “Let’s just go and get it over with.” She grasped Matthew’s hand and they stepped off the porch together. The portal swirled a deep indigo, as if it was aware of two people about to jump through. Matthew tightened his grip on Mirabelle’s hand, then wrapped his other hand around her upper arm for good measure.

  “Ready?” He whispered. Mirabelle quieted any last bit of doubt and nodded.

  “See you soon!” She called to Anona and Dottie.

  “Be careful.” Anona called.

  “Have fun!” That was Dottie.

  With a moment of hesitation, they both inhaled in front of the portal.

  “Let’s go,” Mirabelle pushed against the swirl.

  When she had gone to the High Court, Mirabelle had really “fallen” into the realm. She had no memory of what it felt like to travel to another world. As soon as it became clear they had left the Human Realm and were transitioning to another world, they could feel the motion of whatever they traveled through try to rip them apart. Mirabelle clung to Matthew and him to her, and a moment later, the force was gone, and they both landed sprawled out on the ground.

  The farm was gone, the cold weather, too. The two Travelers stood on a tall hill covered in deep green clover. In the distance, there was a forest so expansive, no end was in sight. Every tree seemed twice the size of those in the Redwood forest. Mirabelle felt drawn to the woods, suddenly needing to explore every inch of this realm. She wished Anona was there. A million new species of trees lay before them; she would love it. In another direction, a small city of stone buildings rested on the coast of a dark sea.

  “I think we are here.” Matthew breathed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest. “That was slightly terrifying.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead.

  “It was definitely different than when Blondie chased me into the Fae Realm. I thought we were going to be torn apart.” Mirabelle reached to her back. Good; the bag and broom had both stayed with her. “I guess you are a Traveler Warlock.”

  “I guess I am.” Matthew looked out into the distance. “Want to make our way to that city? Rustle up some Elves?”

  “Seems like a good start.”

  The city was a couple miles away from the swirling portal Matthew and Mirabelle left behind. The terrain was relatively easy, some hills, but nothing too steep. After a few minutes, both had shed their outer layer; either a warm spring had already arrived in the Elven Realm, or they lived in a more temperate biome than Pennsylvania.

  “So do you want to take the lead here, or should I?” Matthew asked, his hand finding Mirabelle’s. “We should probably have some sort of plan in place.”

  “I guess I can take the lead. I was half expecting us to see someone as soon as we got here, but realms are probably pretty large. Ours is the size of a planet. Just luck that I fell into a strange dinner party in the Fae Realm.”

  Mirabelle liked the feel of the Elven Realm much better so far. It was not as far removed from the Human Realm as the Fae was. Everything in Fae was saturated with magic and presentation, while the Elven Realm, so far, had the feel of a country older than America. As far as Mirabelle knew, she and Matthew could have landed in a remote corner of Slovenia.

  “So what do you think the rules are here?” Matthew questioned.

  “What do you mean, the rules?”

  “Like, are we going to open any portals here accidentally?”

  “Are you planning on ravishing me against a tree in the next few minutes?” Mirabelle joked.

  “Not unless you ask me to.” He paused. “I do really want to sleep with you again.” Matthew pressed a kiss against her hair.

  “Well, thank you, darling. I want to sleep with you again too. But I feel like it would be… irresponsible of us. We don’t even know anyone here; it would be rude to open a portal to the realm of one of their enemies.” Matthew looked slightly crestfallen. “We’ll figure it out. We can’t be the first magical couple to run into this problem. When we get home, I’ll ask Dottie to figure something out. She seems well connected, in the magical sense.”

  Suddenly, a cacophony of trumpets blared in the distance. Mirabelle raised her hand up to block the sun, seeing a stampede of horses and riders coming in their direction. Banners flew above the horses, and the riders may or may not have drawn their swords; they were still too far away to tell.

  “Here we go.”

  Chapter 5

  “State your names, your place of birth, and your purpose in this realm!” An Elven warrior shouted, her sword pointed directly at Matthew’s neck. For some reason, the cavalry was much more interested in Matthew than Mirabelle, and every weapon was pointed in his direction.

  “I am Mirabelle, and this is Matthew. We are from the Human Realm, and our purpose here is to close a portal that opened between our realm and yours.” Mirabelle spat out, hoping they would lower their weapons away from her boyfriend’s neck. The one that appeared to be the leader dismounted, and walked to Mirabelle’s side.

  “You’re a Traveler Witch, correct?” Mirabelle nodded. “I am Birch. Pleased to meet you.” She clapped Mirabelle on the shoulder firmly, drawing her away from Matthew. “Now, why have you brought a warlock into my realm?”

  “Matthew?” The warriors tightened their circle around him. “He’s my…” she paused for the right word. “Paramour? He means no harm to this realm. He came with me to be certain I was safe. We had no idea which realm we were entering.” Words poured out of her mouth, unsure if they were making any difference.

  “Balsam! Locust!” Birch barked and two warriors clamored to her side. “Take the warlock to the Great Hall. We shall convene there and decide his fate.”

  “What?!” Mirabelle shouted. She tried to push her way to Matthew, but Birch held her arm fast against her. “Don’t hurt him!” She screamed.

  “No harm will come to him. You will see him momentarily.” Mirabelle continued to struggle, but the Elf woman’s grip was unrelenting. Balsam and Locust each grabbed one of Matthew’s arms and hoisted him onto a horse. He complied, though Mirabelle had a feeling he was wishing he had brought his ax against Dottie and Anona’s advice.

  “Mirabelle, please join me on my horse.” Birch reached a hand down to pull her up. Mirabelle accepted, hoping that they would be following Matthew and going straight to the Great Hall as well.

  If Mirabelle hadn’t been so overwhelmingly terrified that the Elves were going to murder her boyfriend, she may have enjoyed the horse ride to the city. The sweeping landscape, clear skies, and cool breezes lent themselves as a wonderful backdrop for a gallop in the countryside. Instead, Mirabelle held on to Birch’s jostling torso as they stampeded down the hills towards the city, praying she wouldn’t fall off the horse and die, while simultaneously wishing she had never left the farm.

  As they approached the walls, Mirabelle could see the details of this place a little clearer. The city was surrounded by a half-crumbling wall of gray rock with black clay holding it all together. In places, the wall was missing all together, but the party still rode towards a large gate. Guards stood at the entrance, which was moot given that twenty feet away, anyone could waltz right through the wall, as long as he or she didn’t mind getting a little dusty. Birch slowed to a trot, and raised her hand to the guards, who immediately parted. Mirabelle tried to peek over her shoulder and catch a glimpse of Matthew, but they were too far ahead and had turned
down one of the streets. Birch continued along the cobblestone roads. Mirabelle bounced uncomfortably against the saddle.

  “My tailbone is going to kill later,” she murmured. “Hey! When are we going to the Great Hall? I need to see Matthew. This is a huge misunderstanding-”

  “You need to change into more appropriate clothing, as do I, for a formal meeting of the triumvirate. It will begin after the evening meal.” Mirabelle glanced at the sky for some clue as to what time it was.

  “What is it, noon right now? Maybe a little after?”

  “The sun indicates we are two hours after midday.” Birch replied haughtily. “I expected a witch to have a firmer grasp on the path of the sun.”

  “I am slightly distracted by the impending trial of my boyfriend.” Mirabelle shot back. Birch made no reply, but continued to lead the horse down relatively empty streets until they came to a large building. Mirabelle may have called it a “castle” but it was right in the middle of the city, so it was less pretentious than a usual castle. It had turrets and banners hanging with white and green arrows plastered across them, giving it a Medieval Times look.

  “You will change here.” Birch quickly dismounted, then gave Mirabelle her hand. She slid off the horse slowly, immediately feeling a sharp pain in her low back. Ugh. She did not want to add back pain to the list of things plaguing her today. She followed Birch through a large metal door into a plain entryway.

  “Acacia!” Birch bellowed, her voice echoing through the halls. A small, timid Elf came running from another room.

  “Yes, Lady Birch?” She kept her eyes downcast.

  “This is Mirabelle, a Traveler Witch from the Human Realm. She will be attending a tribunal this evening. See that she is dressed appropriately.” Birch left the room, leaving Mirabelle with a young Elf staring at her with wide eyes.

  “Of course… please, follow me Lady Mirabelle… we’ll find just the thing.” Acacia turned and scampered down a narrow hall. Mirabelle jogged to keep up with her, following to a steep staircase Acacia ascended as if gravity did not affect her. After a few moments, Mirabelle realized they must be climbing one of the turrets and wondered just how high it actually was.

  “Acacia, could you slow down? I’m afraid I am going to trip.” She finally admitted.

  “Of course! I am so sorry I did not notice. Please forgive me.” Acacia stopped and waited with hands folded.

  “It’s not a big deal.” Man, this girl was jumpy, thought Mirabelle. “So, where am I?”

  “You are in the house of Lady Birch, one of the fifty-second triumvirate to rule our lands and Commander of the Armies.”

  “Oh, interesting.” Mirabelle was basically in the president’s house. And she had met the Queen of the High Court in Fae. So far her traveling expeditions involved a lot of people in high places. They finished ascending the stairs and entered a large room complete with canopy style bed, a huge wardrobe, a vanity covered in all sorts of hair pins and jewels, and of course, a terrifyingly huge mirror.

  “So, how did you get this gig?” Mirabelle asked, running her hands over the intricately carved bedpost.

  “Pardon?” Acacia looked at her quizzically.

  “How did you come into the service of Birch?”

  “Oh, it’s a family business. My parents both served the previous triumvirate. It is a great honor to serve Lady Birch.” The wavering in her voice gave Mirabelle some doubts of the truth of that statement. Acacia rummaged through the wardrobe pulling out dress after dress for Mirabelle to try. As the Elf girl compared colors, Mirabelle tried to imagine the perfect outfit, as she had in the Fae Realm, but she had no luck. Morphing her appearance did not work in the Elven Realm.

  “What do you think of this one?” Acacia held up a floor length cream gown with a plunging neckline.

  “I think you would be able to see my bellybutton in that. Is that… is that in fashion here?”

  “Very much. You will stun all in attendance. No one will be able to take their eyes off a witch in such a mesmerizing gown.” Acacia continued.

  “All right. I guess I’m game.”

  Three hours later, Mirabelle was ready. Acacia had dressed her, made up her face, and pinned her hair in the most elaborate up-do ever created. She was at least three inches taller. The height of her hair took some of the focus off her very bare chest and torso, but she was still pretty sure at least Matthew would be surprised by her outfit. It was definitely a strange feeling to have a breeze nailing you right between the boobs. Mirabelle didn’t know how famous people managed it.

  Her worrying had not ceased over Matthew and her safety, though Acacia convinced her that the Elves never kill a prisoner.

  “The triumvirate would never risk angering a Traveler Witch. You could bring any of our enemies through a portal to attack our lands. We have had over 100 years of peace, and no one would want an end to it.” Mirabelle was learning a lot. She had no idea that she supposedly had the power to lead whole armies through portals, though perhaps that information would be useful at some point. She hoped not. Mirabelle was a bit of a pacifist on the grand scale of things. She didn’t mind getting into a scuffle to defend herself or friends, but all-out war seemed a waste of life.

  Acacia gave Mirabelle a rundown of the itinerary for the evening. She would be presented to those in attendance, expected to speak on behalf of Matthew, then they would have dinner, and after eating the triumvirate would decide his fate.

  A collection of Elven guards came to collect her in a Cinderella-style carriage made of iridescent white stone. While beautiful, Mirabelle had to critique the design. The seats were freezing and very slippery. She nearly fell out of the carriage four times on the way to the “Great Hall” she had been hearing about all day.

  The Great Hall was much more utilitarian looking than she expected. Birch’s grand living quarters had falsely influenced Mirabelle to think every aspect of this realm would be rooted in Medieval design. The Great Hall looked like a Scandinavian city hall. The walls were brick, straight, and symmetrical. A large almost communist looking statue of three Elves guarded the entrance with swords drawn. It didn’t seem like a great sign.

  Mirabelle followed her escort into the hall, constantly looking down to make sure she didn’t walk in and flash everyone she was supposed to be impressing. There was no foyer; one simply walked from the street into a huge room. The ceilings were covered in murals of battle scenes mixed with gorgeous frescos of nature. The Elves fought a variety of foes in these paintings; the Fae, Trolls, Dragons, in every scene a new race threatened them.

  “Here she is,” Birch’s voice rang out over the crowd, almost immediately bringing silence down upon the room. “Our newest guest, the Traveler Witch, Mira-belle.” The crowd took a collective shallow bow in her direction, which she mimicked out of respect.

  “Whoa.” Matthew’s voice echoed over the crowd. Mirabelle met his eyes across the room, exhaling her relief that he looked unharmed.

  “Are you all right?” She asked, ignoring the close to one hundred Elves in the room.

  “They’ve been pretty nice. Cool dress,” he said, smirking.

  “Play your cards right and I’ll see if I can bring it home.” She winked.

  “Would the Traveler Witch please stop addressing the warlock in such a casual manner?” A masculine voice boomed. Mirabelle found the source of the voice; he was tall and square, much larger than the other Elves. His light hair was tied away from his face in an elaborate twist settled at the base of his neck. He dressed in dark scarlet robes, but unlike Birch, wore no weapons on his body.

  “Excuse us.” Mirabelle bowed her head slightly. She didn’t want to piss off anyone that had a say in Matthew’s fate.

  “Allow me to finish introducing the Traveler Witch.” Birch interrupted. “Mirabelle is a Traveler Witch from the Human Realm. A portal was opened between her world and ours, and she has come through to receive our aid in closing it. Beyond reason, she brought a warlock to our lands, who she cla
ims is only at her side for protection.” Whispers broke out through the hall. “It has been many years since a warlock has walked these lands, and we must decide his fate carefully.” Birch continued. “Let the formalities commence.”

  Mirabelle was led to the front of the room, and the Elves immediately lined up to meet her, as if she was the bride at the end of a receiving line. Birch stood next to her, announcing every Elf that came to meet her.

  “Mirabelle, I introduce you to Spruce and Willow, the other two Elves forming our Triumvirate. Spruce is our leader on the Creation of Laws and Willow is in charge of Domestic Affairs.” Spruce was the Elf who had chided her earlier for speaking to Matthew. Willow looked like a hippie who had eaten a few too many shrooms and was now in a permanent haze. But, you know, well-washed.

  “We look forward to speaking in depth with you later.” Spruce commented, while Willow looked on in her fog.

  “Of course. I hope you will take my pleas into account.” Mirabelle couldn’t quite read the Elves. The Fae were clearly frightened of her power, but the Elves seemed to be on more of an even playing field. She didn’t think she would be able to scare them into doing what she said. Spruce and Willow moved on, replaced with another male and female, whose hands were tightly clasped together.

  “Pine, our librarian, and his wife, Cherry, our historian. They have offered to house you for the remainder of your stay, as it would be inappropriate for you to continue to be housed with me.” Birch seemed bored with this couple, but Mirabelle was immediately at ease with their warm demeanor.

  “Welcome to the Elven Realm.” Pine spoke up, “We look forward to hosting you.”

  “And to hearing about your world, and time period.” Cherry added. Mirabelle smiled in return, before they were swept away.

  The next two were extremely stern looking. Both had raven hair severely pulled back into top-knots so tight Mirabelle half expected their hair to rip out of their scalps. They wore matching black robes and had nearly the same face, though one was female and the other male.