The Traveler Witch (Sister Witches Book 2)

by Colleen Luddington

  “Truly, I am sorry.” Mirabelle shook her head. She should have known an Elf wouldn’t help her. This realm had been nothing but trouble so far. Anxiety began to creep into her throat as she imagined being trapped here forever, but she shoved it away.

  “Let me just insult you for a minute, and then I am going to ask you for a favor, okay?” He nodded. “You, sir, are a coward. You would rather live in your falling down cottage surrounded by trees than actually make a difference to your own people. When I met you, I thought you could maybe mentor me. Maybe I would even come back without Matthew to visit you. But hear me now: I will never set foot in this accursed realm again.” She paused. “Close the portal. I’ll get us out of here, one way or another, in the next two days. Make sure you close it.”

  “I will.” Mirabelle tucked the journal into her backpack.

  “Okay. How do I get back to the city?”

  Chestnut had given Mirabelle a half-hug goodbye that made her skin crawl. She was so disappointed. If he was afraid of the triumvirate, that he clearly hated and had already begun collecting information on, there was no chance Pine or Cherry would be any help. She was on her own.

  The walk back to Aldris took two hours, just enough time for Mirabelle to hatch a plan, dismiss it, hatch another one, and then dismiss that one, cry for at least fifteen minutes, and finally, find her resolve. Her plan had five points:

  1. Go back to Pine and Cherry’s house and read over the journal from Chestnut, and put together some sort of case against the triumvirate

  2. Challenge the triumvirate to another tribunal (somehow)

  3. Present her case

  4. Go home with Matthew after the Elven population is shocked by the actions of their triumvirate.

  5. All else fails, break Matthew out of prison and try to fly home.

  The only reason she was starting with the case and not immediately attempting to fly home was her doubt that the broom could actually hold two people.

  She barreled into Pine and Cherry’s house with a quick hello, and a request for some boiled potatoes and carrots for dinner. Then, she locked herself in her room, and began to pore over the notes from Chestnut, making her own notes on the non-paper with what ink had been left for her.

  Birch Silben, age 104, joined the Aldris guard at age sixteen, a full ten years younger than recommended. Shot to fame quickly after finding and decimating a troop of Dark Elves living beyond the hills.

  Dark Elves? Mirabelle hadn’t heard anyone mention a separation within the Elven community. And decimate? Birch was sounding more lethal by the moment.

  Victory has come easy to this Elf, too easy. The previous Commander of the Armies was in the guard for two hundred years before ascending to that role of power. I have found little information on her family. She was raised outside of the city. Claims her parents were murdered by Dark Elves she managed to evade. Cannot find any other information or anyone who knew her or her parents before her arrival in Aldris at age fifteen. Does not have the accent of the area in which she claims to have been born.

  Interesting, though Mirabelle doubted very much she could solve the mystery of Birch’s upbringing if Chestnut could not.

  Spruce Greely, age 147, a very strange case. He was raised by Dark Elves until age forty-five when he defected to Aldris, swearing his allegiance to the city. His previous deeds were all forgiven as payment for his map to a Dark stronghold one hundred miles away from the city. Was given the position of secretary in the triumvirate of Camphor/ Fig/ Magnolia. Became oddly close to Fig, thought they might be carrying on a secret relationship. They were often seen whispering at events with lingering touches, but Fig married his third cousin, which led to a quick end to his relationship with Spruce. Always wondered if Spruce had anything to do with his drowning.

  Elven politics was very fishy. It read like a soap opera so far, and Mirabelle was hoping she wouldn’t get too tangled in the mess before she and Matthew made it out of here.

  Willow Skokie, age 56, granddaughter of the previous ruler Magnolia. A definite odd choice as third to round out this group. She had not done anything with her life when elected, besides attend parties and sit in a place of honor due to her bloodline. Doubt she understands any of the laws she is meant to enforce. Assume she was only accepted by the populace because of her name.

  Willow was the least intimidating of the bunch. She flipped to the next page. Chestnut had written a succession of dates with tidbits next to each, arrows connecting some, several question marks in the margins.

  May 4th, year one - Bristle was killed today on a routine sweep of the empty Dark Elf strongholds. He was thrown from his horse.

  August 10th, year one - Lavish party, fourth of the first year

  April 12th, year two - Spruce has purchased a completely new set of robes

  July 27th, year two - Two generals were executed today for treason

  The list continued with every small detail Chestnut had noticed over the five years this triumvirate had been in power. There were mysterious deaths, all out murders, funds missing, new laws being passed, particularly those dealing with portals and the Dark Elves. She copied down the most interesting notes she found, added them to her report of the strange orgy she walked in on, and stuck the pages beneath her mattress. She had many questions.

  “Cherry, may I ask you a question that may be uncomfortable for you?” She said innocently.

  “Oh, of course,” her host replied. “Go ahead.”

  “While walking through the city today I heard mention of ‘Dark Elves.’ As a Traveler Witch, I must keep myself abreast of all of the creatures in every realm. Could you enlighten me?” Cherry was noticeably uncomfortable.

  “Yes. Well, we all have parts of our history we are ashamed of; your world has been riddled with atrocities over the years, has it not?”

  “Some truly terrible things have happened in the Human Realm. And, most sickeningly, the violence is always perpetrated by humans on other humans.”

  “Hundreds of years ago, before even my grandparents were alive, the Elves split into two factions. We call ourselves the Light Elves, and the others, the Dark Elves. I have heard they do not refer to us as such, but as the Innocents and the Experienced.”

  “What caused the division?” Mirabelle pressed.

  “Magic. The Light Elves only use magic to heal. We have priestesses and priests who study and train all their lives to hone their magic to be used only for the good of healing those able to be saved. We are very peaceful, but accidents will always happen.” Especially when Birch is in charge, Mirabelle thought.

  “And the Dark Elves?”

  “They utilize magic for anything. They change their appearances, create wealth out of nothing, twist crops to produce more food. They live outside the natural order of things. Their ambition and indiscretion makes them very dangerous.”

  “Has there ever been an all-out war between the Light and Dark Elves?”

  “Skirmishes mostly,” Cherry looked wistfully, “we’ve even banded together at times. But not lately. The triumvirate views the Dark Elves as a true threat to the peace of Aldris, so there has been more violence recently.” Cherry forced a smile. “Any other questions?”

  “Just, do you have a map? Of your realm, of course. I’d like to look over the lands, if you don’t mind.” Cherry fetched her one straight away, which Mirabelle took back to her room, and began to loosely copy. She circled the area she was nearly positive the portal remained, hoping it wouldn’t be too difficult to find again.

  Mirabelle wished she had read and watched more mysteries. There was something going on, and it was staring her straight in the face, but she couldn’t quite grasp it. Was Birch a Dark Elf? Did she and Spruce know each other before? Maybe. But for now, she needed to sleep. Tomorrow would be a very long day.

  Chapter 9

  Mirabelle stood outside Birch’s home as soon as the sun rose. She needed to approach the ruler in public, and loudly enough that other Elves would hear
her. She wore the outfit she had entered the realm in, her backpack on, with her broom tied to her back. When she first arrived, very few Elves were awake and wandering the streets, but she had a plan to get them all out of their beds and on the street.

  “I demand an audience with the triumvirate! I demand an audience with the triumvirate! I demand an audience with the triumvirate!” She shouted over and over. After a handful of times, Elves began to peek out of their doors to find out what the Traveler Witch was making such a racket about.

  A few tried to strike up a conversation with her, but she continued to yell her phrase over and over. Her voice started getting hoarse after an hour of it. She would definitely need some tea when she got out of this forsaken realm.

  “What?!” Birch finally clamored out of her house, clearly annoyed. Mirabelle smiled. Birch had picked the perfect time to come out; she was surrounded by no less than one hundred Elves on the street.

  “I request an additional tribunal for my claims to be heard.” She stated.

  “What claims?” Birch snapped.

  “My protector and I have been unduly kept captive in this realm and demand a fair trial to negotiate our release. I would hate to return to my realm displeased with a quick entry point back into yours.” She threatened.

  “Fine.” Birch conceded. “You may speak your case in a fortnight.”

  “I will speak my case tonight.” Mirabelle challenged. Birch started to refute her, but then saw the horde of Elves watching her. Just as she had hoped, Mirabelle was watching a people that distrusted their leaders, this one in particular.

  “We will accommodate you. The tribunal will begin at sundown, sharply. Do not be late.” Mirabelle nodded in response, then ran straight to the prison to visit Matthew. A block away from Birch’s house, she nearly tripped over a white rabbit running down the cobblestone street.

  “Strange,” she whispered. She hadn’t seen any animals in Aldris besides horses. She shook her head, and continued on her way.

  Matthew’s relaxed demeanor of their last visit was gone. His face was worn with anxiety, and he had clearly not slept the night before.

  “I should have told Anona to tell my mom, after a certain time frame…” he began as soon as Mirabelle walked in. “She’s going to get so worried. Five days is too long. I should have just told her, before we left.”

  “Try not to focus on this right now.” Mirabelle could see him quickly spiraling. “I need you to pay attention.” She grabbed his shoulders to get him to listen to her.

  “What did you do?”

  “I got us another tribunal, or rather, I got myself a tribunal. Tonight. I am going to make a case against the triumvirate for being unfit for leadership. Hopefully, once I start divulging certain pieces of information, they’ll just kick us out of the realm rather than hear me out.”

  “Or they’ll imprison you.” Matthew pointed out.

  “I told Chestnut that Anona and Dottie are poised with an army of witches ready to attack the realm if we aren’t home soon. Hopefully he believed me. But, if something happens, if they ignore me or don’t let you out, here’s the plan.” Matthew waited, eyebrows raised. “I’m going to break you out of here.”

  “Mirie,” he began to dismiss her.

  “No. I’m serious. I made you come with me, and it’s turned into a huge mess. We are getting out of this damn realm, and we are getting out before tomorrow night. Mainly because I made Chestnut promise to close the portal then.”

  “And if we don’t get out?”

  “Then, I guess, we try to open a portal the old-fashioned way.” Mirabelle winked.

  “Don’t joke. They could kill us. This isn’t a game, these people hate me, and they are quickly getting tired of you.”

  “I know. But we can’t stay here. I want to go home.” She admitted. In truth, Mirabelle was terrified of what she was about to do, but there was no other way she could see. Sure, she could hop on her broom and fly home, abandoning Matthew to rot away in prison. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I do, too. Now, back to how on earth you would break me out of here.”

  “Rowan. She’s the key. I’ve been watching her every time I visit here, and I think I had an epiphany. She likes you.” Matthew shook his head.

  “Honestly, I think all Elves really are just this hospitable. It’s not the prison I was expecting, but I’ll take it.”

  “See, but they aren’t. Cherry and Pine are fine, I have no complaints, but they hardly run at my beck and call. Birch, granted I do think she is a huge bitch, but she was terrible to me and basically kicked me out of her house. I mean, I didn’t know she was having illicit group sex, but still. In all those old Greek stories, hospitality was insanely important. No one here follows those rules, except your prison guard.” Mirabelle explained. Matthew’s brow furrowed. “C’mon, she’s a single Elf maiden working in an empty prison. Suddenly her only charge is a very attractive warlock. You’re basically the bad boy of the realm.”

  “She does sort of come in out of nowhere and then linger for long periods.”

  “OMG, Matthew! A Fae aristocrat wants to sleep with me and an Elven prison guard wants to sleep with you! These humanoid creatures just can’t keep their hands off us!”

  “Why did you get the aristocrat and I got the prison guard? I don’t want to be in that movie.” He laughed. “What should I do with this, seriously?”

  “Be super sweet to her, I guess? If all else fails, ask her to come with you?” She suggested.

  “Back to Pennsylvania? That seems… ill-advised.”

  “No, it’s okay. Cherry told me Elves can’t realm jump, so it would really be the thought that counted.”

  “So my directions for the rest of the day are to flirt with my guard?”

  “Yes. Maybe even take your shirt off for some reason. But don’t sleep with her. Please.” She threw in at the end.

  “Aw, Mirie! C’mon!” He teased, pinching her stomach.

  “Now I have a favor to ask you.” She started. “I’m so nervous about tonight I could throw up and if I spend the rest of today preparing, I will probably tumble into a never-ending panic attack. I have hours until the tribunal. Distract me for at least the next two.”

  “Did I ever tell you about the time I modeled for an art class?” He pulled Mirabelle down to lay against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Wait, what?” She assumed he would just start kissing her and things would go from there.

  “Yup. When I was in high school.” He smoothed her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I was actually pretty good at it, if you are looking for a model.”

  “Nude?!”

  “No, I was sixteen. Fully clothed.”

  “And how did this come to happen? And do you have any proof of it that I can see?”

  “Well, my high school’s art class was looking for human models during third period. I had third period free. So, I signed up.”

  “Was there any sort of incentive? Or do you have a deep love of the visual arts?”

  “There were two main reasons I did it. The first was that the teacher brought in doughnuts and coffee for the models every period.”

  “That’s a good reason in high school. Side note, modeling for painting does not require one to ‘watch their figure’ so to speak.” She laughed.

  “True. But I couldn’t have put weight on if I tried in high school.” He pulled Mirabelle a little closer. “The second reason was Becca Campole.”

  “What?!? Is that my competition?” Mirabelle feigned shock.

  “I had a huge crush on her, and she was in the class. I thought she might go for a guy that showed an interest in her passions.” He continued.

  “And did it work?”

  “It did. We made out a couple of times in my truck.”

  “The same truck we made out in?” Matthew nodded. “Well, that settles it. I have to kill her now.”

  “She got knocked up senior year by a real jerk
. They moved to Jersey so he could work for his uncle’s construction company.” He explained.

  “Well now I feel bad. I’ll do a spell to send some good luck her way. When I figure out how to do that sort of spell.”

  “That’s very sweet of you.” Matthew kissed her for a moment. “Tell me something strange about yourself, besides you being a witch and all.”

  “And all.” She smiled. “I am simultaneously thinking of nothing and one hundred things. I don’t like mustard. I am double jointed in my left shoulder. Oh! I can speak German.”

  “German? That’s an odd choice.”

  “Yes, it is. I took French in elementary school and had no capacity for it whatsoever, so I figured Spanish would be difficult for me too. And English and German are the same language family, so I took German.”

  “That is interesting.” Matthew wove his fingers through her hair, gently pressing against her scalp.

  “That, my friend, feels very good.” Mirabelle closed her eyes and snuggled deeper against his chest. “If I close my eyes, it’s almost like I am just lying in my bed at home with my very hot boyfriend. But then I think, oh, I should have sex with him right now, and reality comes crashing back to me.”

  “We’ll figure it out. Dottie’ll get on the case. She’s a problem solver.” Mirabelle laughed imagining Dottie and her cackling coven researching how two lustful magical young adults could get busy without upsetting the balance of the realm.

  “I’ll call her as soon as we get home. We can’t be the first magical couple this has happened to. Anona has all these spells in place to shield her muse-ness from unsuspecting artists, though she does it more to shield herself from them. We could get some spell work going once we’re home to stop any portals from opening.”

  “Or maybe, next time, we should just have sex inside in a bed like normal people.” Matthew suggested.