The Traveler Witch (Sister Witches Book 2)

by Colleen Luddington

  “Linden and Yew. Our head priestess and priest, also a rare set of twins.” The pair did not bow or speak, simply looked over Mirabelle with judging eyes and turned away. She sincerely hoped they did not get a vote in Matthew’s fate, since they appeared to hate her on sight.

  This continued for nearly an hour, with a slew of more Elves coming to meet the Traveler Witch. By the end, everyone became a blur of Elven names and random occupations. They had been introduced in the order of importance, she thought, since the last few Elves she met were not dressed as uniquely, or treated with respect by anyone else in the room.

  When the line finally dwindled down, Mirabelle was given a moment to collect her thoughts, have a drink of water, and clear her throat before her speech on Matthew’s behalf began. Matthew was kept away from her, surrounded by guards, this entire time. All she wanted was to have a moment alone with him to come up with some sort of plan, but it was out of the question. Part of Mirabelle wanted to admit that neither of them had a firm grasp on their powers, and were clearly of no threat to a culture as well-organized as the Elves, but she also did not want to appear weak.

  “Thank you for giving me the chance to defend Matthew, who I know you all view as nothing more than a warlock, but let me enlighten you. Matthew is first and foremost, a tender to the earth. He cares for all things growing, and nurtures both plants and animals in our realm. He means absolutely no harm to your realm. The only reason he is here is because he did not want me to travel alone, especially since we were unsure where I would end. I most recently was held captive in the High Court of the Fae Realm, so I was fearful of traveling again.” Just as Mirabelle had hoped, the mention of the Fae Realm spread whispers through the room. “Matthew is my protector. We would like nothing more than to close the portal, and return to the Human Realm at the earliest convenience.” Mirabelle risked a half-smile to Matthew, who nodded in her direction. She hoped that was enough.

  Next, came dinner. The triumvirate sat alone, discussing what they had thought of Mirabelle’s pleas, and the threat Matthew was. Mirabelle could hardly eat a bite she was so nervous. Also, the food was not terribly appetizing. It was all plant based, but stranger than that, it seemed to be only food that grew either underground or underwater. The first course was clearly seaweed, that looked like it had been simply plucked out of the water and laid on a plate. It stunk like brine. The drink they supplied was good, though. Most definitely alcoholic, though, on further examination, she deduced it was not wine or beer. Mirabelle couldn’t place it. She decided against asking, worrying it would have a very weird origin.

  Dinner went on for hours. Her untouched plates of mush were replaced with new mush of a different color. After the seventh plate, Mirabelle lost all hope of a simple salad, and downed her fifth glass of booze. She caught glimpses of Matthew between all the moving Elves; he was not served the same fare. In fact, she was unsure he had been given any food this entire time. He was beginning to look nervous, and Mirabelle was dying to run to his side and beg the Elves to let them go home.

  “We have come to our decision!” Spruce’s voice rang out. Mirabelle gasped and dropped her goblet. It teetered, but thankfully did not spill. Spruce, Birch, and Willow stood up and joined hands, facing Matthew.

  “We, the triumvirate of this great nation, have decided,” Mirabelle’s heart rose to her throat. “to keep the warlock under lock and key for as long as we feel necessary.”

  “What?!” Mirabelle screamed. “No! You have to let us go home!” She ran across the room, knocking into several Elves who tried to stop her. “Matthew!”

  “Mirie, it’s okay.” He said, his voice shaking. “Don’t upset them.” He added quietly. Mirabelle got to his side and wrapped her hand around his.

  “This is my fault.” She choked.

  “It isn’t.” He answered. He moved to kiss her forehead, but one of the guards held him back.

  “I’ll figure something out,” she promised. Matthew nodded.

  “Mirie, be careful. Don’t do anything rash.”

  “Take him to his cell, please. Pine, Cherry, it may be time for you to retire with the Traveler Witch. She seems under duress.” Birch stated nonchalantly.

  “Under duress? You just imprisoned my boyfriend!” She yelled at Birch.

  “Mirabelle, please, come with us,” Cherry slid her arm through hers. “We can discuss everything that happened once you are in our house.” Mirabelle craned her neck to catch one last glance of Matthew before he was whisked out of sight.

  She didn’t know what to do. She needed Anona, or Dottie, or someone who actually understood what their fucking powers did! So far, all Mirabelle knew how to do was end up in dangerous realms. Matthew had never done anything, other than accidentally open a portal by sleeping with his girlfriend outside in January (in hindsight, Mirabelle was now beginning to understand that it was a really stupid decision on both their parts, but that was neither here nor there). Neither of them had a clue what they could actually do, or why the Elves would be so afraid of Matthew.

  She needed help, that much was clear. At present, she trusted none of the Elves she had met, and wasn’t sure if she would have the same luck of a gnome appearing out of nowhere to give her advice. Was there some sort of inter-dimensional way to contact Anona? She added that to the long list of things she should have done before jumping into another realm on purpose.

  Mirabelle went over her assets. She still had her bag, which contained the botany book, and her book of Johannah’s travels. She also still had her broom. Even now, one of the attendants brought her these things to take to Cherry and Pine’s quarters. She needed to get to a place that could be her home base, sleep off this Elvish booze, and make a plan. She also really wanted to get out of this ridiculous dress. She felt like one of her boobs would pop out at any second, and didn’t want to embarrass herself any further this evening. As long as she kept her head about her, they would be fine. She could figure this out.

  Chapter 6

  A few hours later, Mirabelle woke in Cherry and Pine’s house, ready to devise their grand escape. Her head was pounding and she couldn’t make any sudden movements without feeling like vomiting, but a kind soul had left her a glass of water and what looked and tasted like a bowl of steamed potatoes. Finally, some food she could stomach. After a few bites and half a glass of water, Mirabelle pulled out her copy of Johannah’s book.

  The Elven room she was housed in was much simpler than anything at Birch’s castle. The walls were plain gray stone, and the room was furnished with a small twin size bed, nightstand, armoire, and desk, all made of stone or metal. A few books were stacked on the edge of the desk (though they were in a variety of languages she didn’t understand, but one looked like German), though the pages did not look like paper, and Mirabelle couldn’t quite figure out what material they had been crafted from.

  By the time she had gotten here after the disaster at the Great Hall, Mirabelle had been three sheets to the wind. She peeked out the window to see a still dark sky. That was good. After her display, the Elves would assume she would sleep until at least the sun came up. She hoped she had a few hours before anyone would expect her to be awake.

  She flipped through the pages of Johannah’s book, finding the three chapters in which she visited the Elven Realm. Because Johannah visited the seasonal courts of the Fae, her personal timeline was a jumble. She had managed to visit the Elven Realm during three very different time periods. One was clearly a long time ago, as the Elves had yet to build cities and were living predominantly in the open woods, so after a quick scan, Mirabelle skipped that one. She settled on the next tale, which looked more promising.

  I arrived in the Elven Realm in the dead of their winter (slightly off-putting as I had come from High Summer in the Human Realm. My body was unaccustomed to such cold temperatures). I was surprised to find that not only had the Elves abandoned their ideals of living only under the cover of trees, but their government had been completely reorganize
d. After wandering through the snow for a few hours, I came upon a new city, under construction, but was met with menacing glances and swords drawn. After much discussion, they were satisfied with my story, especially when I was able to list several of their previous rulers. I was taken in, given a hot meal, and more appropriate clothing (thank heavens). After a night in a warm bed in a very comfortable tent, I was taken to meet their newest leader.

  I was taken aback by the large stone wall in the midst of construction, as in my previous visit the Elves lived in harmony with all other creatures. After a few minutes of formalities, I sat down to a breakfast with Juniper, the singular leader.

  Whatever time period this was, it was before the formation of the triumvirate, Mirabelle noted. Also, the wall, which was now in the midst of collapse, was being built. From the state of it now, Mirabelle guessed this account was from at least 200 years ago, maybe even 300 years. She was unsure how long the reign of each triumvirate lasted, but she felt that was a safe enough question to ask her hosts.

  Juniper was a she-Elf, and quite young. Her face already bore the lines of one battle-hardened, as well as a terrifying scar splitting her left cheek. She was glad I had come, and had many questions for me on the other realms I had visited. After some discussion of the Fae Realms, as well as the Earthen and Water Realms, she admitted why they were building a fortified city. A year earlier, the Darkest Realm had invaded them.

  The Darkest Realm? It seemed different than the Dark Court of the Fae. Johannah had been to the Fae Courts, so she must have known about that one. Mirabelle had never heard of this new realm, though it sounded pretty scary.

  I confessed I had never been to nor heard of this realm, though Juniper filled my head with tales of its horror. An army of nightmarish creatures led by twisted humans wreaked havoc on their realm for months, before simply disappearing one night. By the time they left, the entire mentality of the Elves had changed. No longer would they wander the woods in joy and reflection; they needed to transform into warriors.

  Mirabelle shivered. She was glad that she hadn’t accidentally ended up in the Darkest Realm. She wondered if there was a way to avoid it, though if the creatures were led by twisted humans, most likely it wasn’t one of the more difficult ones to access.

  She finished her potatoes and water and stood up to investigate her room. The armoire held a few outfits; most were formal dresses with low cut necklines or flowing robes, but she found a simple pair of pants and a plain white tunic that fit relatively well. She decided against the shoes provided for her, and slipped into her boots. If she needed to run away, she wanted to be in shoes she was accustomed to. Blisters were the last thing she needed.

  The first rays of light were beginning to show over the sea, so Mirabelle decided to try to have a quick look around the house before everyone woke up. She wanted to find the exits, as well as get some snooping done. Disappointingly, her heavy stone door squeaked deafeningly loud when she opened it, but no one ran out to greet her. The hallway was short and narrow, with two other doors, both closed. She had to pee and began wondering what exactly Elves did to relieve that and whether or not indoor plumbing was a thing here. She hoped it was. And if it wasn’t maybe she could trade that knowledge for Matthew’s release. It was too bad she didn’t know much about the logistics of plumbing, or the internet, electricity, elevators, or trains. She headed to the staircase, rather than try her luck with the doors, and softly walked down.

  Like Birch’s home and the Great Hall, nothing was made of wood. Every single piece of architecture here was made of rock or stone. Mirabelle wondered if they had a high chance of fire, or if the creatures from the Darkest Realm used it as a weapon. An entire city made of stone would be harder to destroy than a wooden one, but it must have taken years to construct.

  The first floor held a library immediately at the foot of the stairs. It made sense, as the owners were a librarian and historian. Mirabelle peaked in, wondering if any of these books would be in English, and was glad to find that quite a few were. She began perusing the shelves, looking for anything that might help her. Oddly, she found a few titles she actually recognized. There was a copy of the Complete Works of Shakespeare, Henry David Thoreau’s On Walden Pond, David McCullough’s biography of John Adams, among others.

  “Interested in books?”

  “Holy shit!” Mirabelle jumped out of her skin, turning around. Pine stood a few feet behind her. “You frightened me.”

  “Sorry,” he said sincerely, “Please, continue looking. I am very proud of our personal collection, though it is nothing compared to the library of Aldris.”

  “Is that what this city is called? Aldris?”

  “Yes. Aldris: the first of all the Elven cities in the realm. There are a few others, though none as large or grand. Many of our people still prefer to live in the untamed forests.”

  “So, how did you become the librarian of the city? That sounds prestigious.”

  “Years of schooling,” Pine answered through a smile. “As I am sure you noticed, the Elven elite like to collect books of all languages from every realm. The first step in becoming the city’s librarian is to master many languages. Your realm is a particularly tricky one; so many languages for one world. How do you ever communicate with one another?”

  “Well, we don’t communicate with everyone, at least not well. Where I live, pretty much everyone speaks English, but if I were to find myself in rural Mongolia, I would be in trouble.” Mirabelle gazed back at the shelf. “Why does everyone here speak English?” She had wondered the same thing in the Fae Realm. It made sense that Blondie understood and spoke English; he appeared to live somewhere in Pennsylvania at least some of the time.

  “I’m not speaking English,” Pine laughed. “I’m speaking Elfish. You’re a Traveler…” he glared at her, “you can understand whatever language is spoken to you, correct?”

  “Of course!” She answered quickly. “It’s hard to get used to, since I can’t understand every language in the Human Realm.” That was an interesting tidbit. Good to know that if Mirabelle ever found herself in another realm, she would be able to understand whatever what said to her.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course. I am your Elven emissary.”

  “Why is Matthew in prison? He didn’t do anything. Why didn’t the triumvirate just send us home?” Mirabelle could tell she struck a chord with the question, and wondered if she should have waited a few days before springing such an important question on her host.

  “Honestly, there is a lot of fear among our people towards warlocks. The Traveler Witches that come through are a different breed. We have nothing but good experiences sharing knowledge of the realms, or plant lore, with your kind. The warlocks have been the exact opposite. Many have caused terrible strife and even war in our lands. Though Matthew seems harmless, to our people, he is a very real threat.”

  “Am I allowed to visit him?”

  “Of course! I will take you to his quarters later this afternoon. You have a meeting with Chestnut this morning, but after your noon luncheon I would be happy to lead you there.”

  Mirabelle racked her brain. Who the heck was Chestnut? She met so many Elves yesterday. She did vaguely remember promising to meet with someone last night.

  “Chestnut is our expert on inter-realm travel.” Pine reminded her. “He will be taking an account of how you found the portal on your end, what traveling through it was like, and so on. It’s his policy to interview every Traveler Witch or other creature that comes into our realm.”

  “Oh yeah, now I remember. Sorry I got so incredibly drunk last night. My stomach didn’t agree much with most of the food served at that party.” Mirabelle explained. “But the potatoes from this morning were delicious. It will probably take me a little while to get used to what you eat here.”

  “We do not eat anything that casts a shadow as it grows,” Pine explained. “So our primary diet is potatoes, turnips, beets, carrots, radishes
, and onions. At formal affairs, like last night, we are sometimes treated to things that grow beneath the surface of the sea, but that is on rare occasion.” So, Mirabelle was guessing correctly when she was eating fresh seaweed slop. “I am sorry if I am staring, I am very excited that you are here with us.” For the first time, Mirabelle did notice that Pine was acting a little nervous or fidgety. Was he geeking out?

  “Don’t mention it.” Mirabelle answered awkwardly.

  “I’ve never met a witch before. It’s such an honor to be in your presence. I’ve read dozens of accounts of the witches that have visited us in the past, but to actually meet one - it’s amazing.” Pine motioned to Mirabelle to sit across from him on the sofa. “What do you specialize in other than Traveling?”

  Here was the point Mirabelle had to decide whether to lie or be truthful with her host.

  “At the moment, I am very much concentrating on my traveling skills. The universe has been nudging me to perfect them lately.” Not exactly a lie.

  “Ah! And what other fields have you studied?”

  “Some nature magic, a bit of divination,” Mirabelle tried to think of another kind of magic that she might know a smidgen about. “History of magic in the United States.” She had read extensively on the Salem Witch Trials in high school, so that wasn’t completely a lie.

  “The United States?” Pine asked, reaching for something to write with.

  “Oh, that is the name of my country.”

  “Fascinating. Would you mind giving me a little background information on the United States? I am sure Cherry would love to hear this as well,” he paused, turning his head to the door, “Cherry!”

  “A little background?” Mirabelle repeated. “Um, well the history of the United States is pretty detailed, even though it’s a young country. Why don’t I give you an overview during dinner tonight?”