by Jade Alters
Sidjus clears his throat and looks very satisfied with himself as he clasps his hands behind his back. “By order of the Department of Magical Authority, you are hereby charged with violating Code two seven zero nine nine, which is a casting of the forbidden curse known as The Saddle.”
Sidjus takes a wand out of his jacket and I tense up, baring my teeth. I almost shift but I stop myself. Ian’s hand grabs my arm, attempting to calm me, though he doesn’t look any happier about this than I am.
“The Saddle?” Victoria says helplessly. “I don’t even know what The Saddle is.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Sidjus says, practically snarling. “It’s the very reason these four innocent fox shifters here look like they’re about to chew off my head just for looking at you funny. The curse controls the behavior of animals, including shifters. And as I’m sure you know, that’s illegal, my dear. Even now, as a matter of fact, I can see the mark of your curse upon your forehead.” He thumps her on the forehead with a flick of his finger, and I actually growl. Now, he taps her with his wand and a sparkling little orange triangle shape reveals itself on her head. “There’s your proof,” Sidjus says casually. “The mark of The Saddle. I apologize, gentleman, for this fiend’s work upon you. You’ll have to have it removed. Perhaps I can help you with-”
“She is not controlling us!” Ian says, looking as angry as I’ve ever seen him. “Nobody’s been able to cast a spell of force on me since I was fifteen-years-old, you massive buffoon!”
“The mark’s right there!” Sidjus says, pressing his finger to her forehead.
“Get your hands off her!” Mitch shouts and Ian holds him back.
“Don’t you see that you’re acting this way because she wants you to?!” Sidjus says, throwing up his hands. “It’s classic Saddle behavior! I just saw the same thing a few weeks ago with some mountain lion shifters up in Eaton Canyon.”
“This is ridiculous,” Darren says behind me. “We’d know if she was controlling us!”
“I didn’t do it!” Victoria says tearfully. “I really didn’t! I’ve never even heard of The Saddle! I can’t make them do anything! I’ll prove it!” She turns to Ian and points to him. “Ian, bark like a dog.”
Incredibly, Ian began to bark, though he only does it a few times before turning red with embarrassment before he stops himself. Victoria looks just as shocked as the rest of us, though Sidjus, of course, looks utterly triumphant.
It is shocking though. And I don’t understand what’s happening at all, but I don’t believe for one moment that this is Victoria’s doing and that she’s had us under a curse. It just doesn’t make any sense.
“So you see,” Sidjus says proudly. “I have more than enough evidence. Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll be taking Victoria into the custody of the DMA. I’m sure once you’re free of this curse, you’ll be kicking yourself for defending this fiendish witch.” Sidjus waves his wand and Victoria abruptly claps her hands together, her fingers interlocking, as she looks up in shock. He cast a spell of binding, I suppose.
“You’re wrong!” Ian says even as Sidjus takes her by the arm, leading her outside. “Who do we speak to about this?”
We’ve seen his ID and he’s just annoying enough to definitely be DMA. We can’t just attack the guy as much as we might want to. We’d all be arrested ourselves.
“You have my name,” Sidjus says, shrugging. Outside, we see his car; a sleek black Mercedes. He opens a back door and half shoves Victoria inside as she looks back at us, her eyes filled with terror. It makes my heart ache. “If you want to contest this charge, I will forward you to the appropriate authorities, but I’m sure the curse will blow over soon and you’ll realize you’ve all been had. Farewell, gentlemen! Thank you for your help.”
He nods curtly and climbs into the passenger seat. There is apparently a driver, and the car pulls out and speeds off. In the flash of a second, Victoria is gone. In the aftermath, we all just stand there like a bunch of brainless slugs, wondering what the hell just happened.
Victoria
Well, I didn’t see this coming.
The car ride from South Pasadena to the Department of Magical Authority isn’t too long. I’ve never been there, but it’s apparently a castle hidden in the woods up in the hills above Sierra Madre. I’m a witch and not unfamiliar with the magical community, but I didn’t even know it was there to be honest.
I’m bound by Sidjus’s invisible shackles, which just means I can’t resist clasping my hands together in front of me. It doesn’t hurt when I try to pull my hands apart, they simply don’t budge at all. It’s as if my hands and forearms have turned to stone.
Sidjus doesn’t speak on the ride, it’s like I’m not there at all. Even when I plead and ask questions and demand to speak to a lawyer (I know very well that there are no lawyers in the magical world, but I thought it was worth a shot), he ignores me. Up, up, up into the hills the car slowly climbs around a long and winding road until it reaches a pair of tall stone gates.
The DMA is an actual castle. I don’t know if it’s hidden to humans or what, but it must be protected by a lot of powerful wards that repel humans. By now, it’s very dark out, especially this far out into the hills. I can’t see much of the castle, but it looks massive and old as hell. All dark stone spreads out forming spires and turrets towering over the city. The car drives up a steep and winding driveway around to the back of the castle where it finally parks.
“Let’s go, let’s go.” Sidjus sets a hand at my back and shoves me along. The driver, who walks beside us, hasn’t said a word so far, but he’s an older man with shaggy white hair. He looks totally indifferent to the whole situation. He’s wearing black like a regular chauffeur would but I see the baby blue tie at his neck that stands for the DMA. Sidjus takes me up a flight of old stone steps and my heart is racing. This is all so surreal. I might be a witch, but I’m never usually this deep in the magical world. I really have no idea what’s going on at all.
Inside, the castle is dimly lit. The halls are lit by candles, and I can see a few hooded figures in the low light. I get the feeling I’m being taken through a little-used back door. The take me down a narrow staircase, so far down that my ears start pop. I get a little dizzy walking down the spiral staircase, but eventually, I’m led down yet another narrow, candle-lit hall and taken into a wider room filled with cells. Oh good… cells. The place looks like a good old fashioned dungeon alright. The place is mostly empty but I do see a few cells populated by figures hunched up in the corners, wearing cloaks and looking like they don’t want to be bothered.
I didn’t even know anything like this existed anywhere near town.
“Give me your phone,” Sidjus says. I hand it over and he turns it off, pocketing it.
I hope I get that back, but who knows?
“In here, prisoner,” Sidjus says. He shoves me into an empty cell and pulls out his wand. For a moment, I wonder why he needs his wand to slam the door, but when it swings shut, it sparkles with red light. “You touch those bars, you’ll get a nasty shock,” he says flatly. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” Sidjus looks so satisfied with himself. If I’m being honest, he’s probably just doing his job and truly believes I’m guilty, but I find it impossible to feel very objective right now. I just want to punch him in his slimy little weasel face. As he stands there in his baby blue suit, the candles on the stone wall behind him flicker, casting long shadows. “You’ll be questioned in the morning after breakfast. But you’ve missed dinner, I’m afraid. Water in an hour, and then lights out.”
“Wait,” I say, a little breathlessly. “I have to stay here all night before I can get this straightened out?”
Sidjus shakes his head, looking utterly disgusted with me. “There’s nothing to straighten out, girly. There’s a mountain of evidence against you. You cast a very forbidden spell, and the laws of the DMA are not forgiving. Frankly, I’d be surprised if they didn’t sentence you to death.”
“Death!” I say, all but shrieking. “You can’t be serious!”
“Afraid so,” Sidjus says, straightening his tie. “Anyway. Goodnight, witch. See you tomorrow.”
When he walks out, he whistles, and reflexively, I run forward and grip the bars to yell after him. It’s beyond stupid. He only just finished telling me I would be shocked. Sure enough, a white pain courses through my fingers and up my arms. I jerk back, and the pain disappears as soon as I’m no longer touching the bars. But the surprise of it makes me breathless. I see the shadow of a guard keeping watch at the end of a hall, but I doubt he’ll be any help.
While I never knew this castle existed right here in Southern California, I have heard of the DMA. They’re known to be both old fashioned and, as Sidjus said, rather unforgiving.
Basically, I’m screwed.
I slump down to the cold, stone floor and lean up against the back wall, hugging my knees.
I can’t help but think that my original screwed up spell is the forbidden curse they’re talking about. Of course, it was accidental, but I don’t know what else it would be. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure you can’t cast a spell that dark and complex, not to mention illegal, by accident? I’ve never heard of a spell as harmless as the one I was actually attempting to perform turning into something so dark and forbidden with the replacement of one ingredient for another. It seems absurd to me. But what else would they be talking? If the mark was on me, it must be true. And then there’s the fact that I somehow made Ian bark? I must have been controlling them the whole time without even knowing it. I was right that the spell was responsible, only it wasn’t making them attracted to me. They were just following my lead. The thought is too depressing.
Except now, I can’t figure out how the spell could have been the curse that allowed me to control the Loves while also attracting those stalkers. Was it all just a coincidence?
I rub my eyes. I’m getting a headache trying to figure it all out. I suspect the best I can do is to tell them everything and beg for mercy. I don’t know what other plan I could possibly have.
I can’t help but wonder what the Loves are doing now as I hug my knees and wipe my teary eyes. They must hate me. In the face of all that evidence against me, I don’t know how they could think I’m innocent once they’ve had a chance to think it through. So long, Loves. Everything I thought I had with them was only my own fantasies coming to life through dark magic. I thought it was a dream, but instead, it was all a nightmare.
I don’t get much sleep that first night in the dungeon. All I can think about now are all my broken dreams.
“Wake up, you wretches!” The guard is thwacking a wooden stick along all the bars of our cells making a racket as myself and the other prisoners stir. I finally fell asleep, curled up on the stone floor. They didn’t give me a cot or a blanket or anything. All I got was just one cup of water that now makes me have to pee something awful. “Victoria Pruitt!” The guard says, thwacking the bars of my cell especially hard. “Up and at ‘em! You’re to meet the Inquisitor.”
Every muscle aches. Apparently, sleeping curled up on stone doesn’t make a girl feel awesome. On top of that, I’m guessing I only got about three hours of sleep total. It feels like I didn’t get any at all. I tossed and turned on that stone floor for most of the night wondering what would become of me and whether this is all my fault. When I finally did drop off to sleep, my eyes were, once again, wet with tears.
The guard binds my wrists with invisible shackles again and leads me out of the dungeon up the spiral stairs. It’s much more difficult going up, with my hands bound in front of me, and all my muscles so sore. I’m lucky I don’t stumble and go tumbling all the way back to the cells. The guard keeps yanking me along whenever I go too slow.
He makes me sit in a stone chair, and I’m told to wait.
The wait turns out to be several hours, and it’s almost evening again before I’m brought in for my interrogation or trial or whatever this is.
The Inquisitor turns out to be a severe-looking lady with a dark red bun on the top of her head. She wears a baby blue suit, just like Sidjus. I’m led to a large room that looks something like a courtroom if one were to put a courtroom in a castle. I’m surrounded by stone walls and giant, darkly flowered tapestries. The Inquisitor is sitting in what looks like a judge’s bench that’s a little bit lifted off the floor. It’s a kind of throne on a platform, and I’m seated facing it.
The Inquisitor is reading from a tablet that looks pretty much like an iPad. I was half expecting a scroll. I can’t help but wonder if it’s a magical iPad.
“Victoria Pruitt,” she reads from the tablet. She’s wearing little wire-rimmed glasses, and she blinks owlishly at me. She has a very sharp chin.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say hesitantly. The guard remains, standing just behind me. I suppose he’s there just in case I have it in mind to attack the Inquisitor, which I feel would be pretty hard to do with my hands bound, but you can’t be too careful, I guess.
“I am the Regional Inquisitor for the Department of Magical Authority, Precinct One Seventeen, California Division. I will be questioning you today regarding…” She reads from the tablet now and looks somewhat alarmed. “You cast The Saddle? Good God, that’s a bad one.”
Jesus, even she’s startled by the heinousness of my crime. And my instincts tells me this woman is pretty unflappable.
“Do I get to speak for myself?” I say softly, my voice echoing in the room.
“One moment…” The Inquisitor is presumably reading over my case, and I sigh heavily. I set my hands, which are still interlocked, straight out in front of me. “Alright.” She takes out a wand and taps me on the head. “Aaaah. Yes, that’s definitely a mark of having cast The Saddle.”
“I know but-”
“And we have a witness, I believe?” She says to the guard, “Let Sidjus in, please.”
The guard goes to a door at the back of the room and Sidjus walks in looking smug as ever. Oh great. My only witness is Sidjus. I wonder if I’ll be allowed to call my own witnesses? Even if they think I’ve bewitched the Loves, Shea would be a good witness if my defense is having cast that spell by accident.
Sidjus and the Inquisitor go back and forth a bit and he confirms that I, in fact, made Ian Love, a fox shifter, bark like a dog against his will.
“This evidence is indisputable,” the Inquisitor says, sighing. “The mark more than the fox barking. Alright then… Victoria Pruitt, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I am. In reality, I’m shaking like a leaf. I can’t believe any of this has happened. It all seems like a terrible nightmare. “Ma’am, I cast a spell about a week ago because a man was bothering me. He was stalking me. I intended to cast something that would repulse unwanted men with nefarious motives, okay? You may have heard about it. It’s not a difficult spell, but it has a lot of ingredients. So when I cast it, I threw in the wrong ingredient at the end. I was supposed to put in St. John’s Wort, but instead I put in sorrel and lodalite-”
“Woof,” the Inquisitor says, and then waves her hand. “I apologize. That wasn’t due to your curse. I just meant “woof” as in, that’s a terrible mistake to make. Unfortunately, it doesn’t change your case a dash. I’m afraid I find you guilty, Victoria Pruitt. Guilty on all charges.” She taps away on her iPad and I stare at her, horror-stricken. “Even more unfortunately for you, the penalty for casting The Saddle is death. You’ll have one day to put your affairs in order and then you’ll be returned here to the DMA for your execution-”
“NO, no, no, no!” I scream out loud but it falls on dispassionate ears. The Inquisitor only nods at the guard to hold me, and then she whips out her wand and casts a little spell that sends a stinging pain through my brain before it dulls.
“I’ve just cast a tracer spell on you,” she says, cold as ice. “That way we always know where you are. So don’t attempt to run. We will find you
and bring you back if we have to.”
“No, no,” I say, breathlessly even as the guard grabs me by the arm. “You can’t do this! You can’t! It-it was an accident, I swear! I just added in the wrong thing! Please!”
“Release her,” the Inquisitor says to the guard. Turning to me she says, “I’ll see you in twenty-four hours.”
Well, at least they gave me my phone back before practically kicking me outside, to the steep, winding road. I don’t cry. I don’t cry because I don’t feel sad or angry at the moment. I only feel numb. None of this feels real. Yet, I know it is. I know enough about the DMA to know they don’t screw around. Once they make a decision, it’s final.
I have to walk downhill a long way before I get reception on my phone. There’s only a little bit of battery left, and I’m on edge worrying it will die. Every second feels like a second wasted now that I’ve been given a death sentence.
I call Ian and I hear myself asking if somebody can pick me up near the DMA. My voice sounds alien to me as I speak in a flat monotone. Ian sounds worried, but I don’t want to explain over the phone. I sit by the side of the road, and then I’m left with the silence of the darkening woods and my own darker thoughts.
They’re going to kill me.
The worst part is, I’m not even sure if I’m not guilty. Of course, the sentence isn’t just at all considering it was all an accident. But I can’t prove it was an accident. I keep trying to think myself out of it, but my thoughts race in useless circles. I stand up and start walking down the road. I know the boys will sniff me out anyway. I do find myself crying out of sheer helplessness. I’m going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it. Of course, I’ll try to find a way out of this. I have to. But it’s hard to see any light at the end of this dark tunnel.
The guys find me in about an hour. I see a fox running toward me, and I jog towards it. When it becomes Darren, I run faster and crash into his arms. Abruptly, I burst into tears, sobbing into his shoulder. I feel him tense with worry, but he just holds me there, by the side of the road, murmuring that things will be okay.
