The Book of Spells and Such

by Jacquie Underdown

  “I know. Deep breaths. You’ll soon adjust.”

  Again the nod.

  The walls pulse with life, as do the tattoos on her belly and back. She is alive and ripe, fertile and beautiful. The smell in here is overwhelmingly tantalizing—sugar, salt, seduction. Ariana’s soul sings, and her hands tingle.

  “I’m home,” she whispers.

  Hadeon grins wide. “Yes.”

  A man and woman stride down the curling staircase that floats up to the second level of the palace. The man is shirtless, dressed only in a black cloth skirt, much like what the Warriors are wearing, though his smaller stature indicates he is definitely no Warrior. He looks in his mid-thirties, dark hair and green eyes, with a fit build. The woman has a silk dress that barely covers her breasts and stomach, and ends just below her ass. She’s athletic, with a long, narrow nose and broad, thin lips—exotically attractive.

  They smile when they note Ariana and jog the rest of the way, only stopping when they reach her side. Ariana opens her arms to receive their exuberant hugs.

  “My goodness, Harmony, is it really you?”

  Ariana steps back, shaking her head. “Um, perhaps there’s been some kind of mistake.”

  The couple smile broader. “There’s no mistake.”

  Ariana looks to Hadeon for confirmation. He nods. “I didn’t want to risk the conversation being overheard outside of these walls, but your mother named you Harmony, after her.”

  Ariana’s head dizzies, not only because she has thought she was someone else her entire life, but that she has now learned a little more of her mother after so many years of darkness. “My mother’s name was Harmony?” she whispers.

  The man nods. “She was my sister. And you, Harmony, are my niece.”

  Ariana searches the man’s face. Only now does she notice the similarities in his appearance.

  The man smiles when no words pass for quite some time. “I’m Nyklus, and this is my wife, Sora.”

  Ariana nods, her jaw hinging open. “Lovely to meet you both.”

  Nyklus laughs and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “Ahhh, but we already know you.” He leads her toward two enormous gold doors. Hadeon follows closely behind. “But it has been many, many years and you were only a new baby. It’s perfectly understandable you wouldn’t remember us, nor this world.”

  “In some small way, I’ve remembered the spring blossoms. They’re similar to flowers on Earth, cherry blossoms, and are my favorite flower.”

  “Interesting how hidden memories can manifest,” Sora says.

  Ariana is led through the doors and into a sitting room. The white cobbled floors extend through to this room, as do the spring blossoms that creep along the walls. There are ornamental sofas, chairs, and cushions covered in exquisite brocaded fabric of colors Ariana had no words to describe. They simply don’t exist on Earth.

  “Please sit,” says Sora, gesturing to a chair. “You must be tired after your long journey.”

  Sora turns to a young woman, no older than Ariana, garbed in a pink satin dress. She has ivory white skin, and hair the color of pure snow. She is short with a thin frame. But most amazing are her ethereal wings that beat so fast they appear a colorful blur behind her. Ariana tries not to stare, but can’t help it. How fascinating seeing the creatures she read so often about. This girl is quite obviously a Lavizsia.

  “Please, some refreshments, Tuti.”

  Tuti nods and smiles wide at Ariana before fluttering away as fast as a single blink.

  Sora sits on the sofa next to Ariana, while Nyklus remains standing near Hadeon. A brute of a man strides into the room, filling the space with his dominating form. A Warrior, though older than those who accompanied her here.

  “I received word you had arrived, son,” he says to Hadeon, meeting him with a handshake and a few loud slaps on his back.

  Son? So this is Hadeon’s father. Yes, despite the similarities all Warriors have, there are even more with this man. The tattoos that cover his torso—the Mira, the strange symbols and colors—leave little exposed skin. A frightful, skilled Warrior he must be.

  “Good to see you,” says Hadeon.

  The Warrior shifts his gaze to Ariana, a penetrating glare that manifests as pins prickling up her spine. It’s as though he can read her soul with that glare and imprint his strength upon it. Ariana shudders and tries to maintain her eye contact.

  “So Harmony returns,” he booms.

  Ariana nods and stands, words escaping her.

  “There is evidence?” he asks.

  Hadeon answers, “Yes.”

  “You’ve inspected the evidence, Hadeon?”

  Ariana swallows hard. He’s certainly done that.

  “Yes,” Hadeon says, not a note of transparency on his features.

  The Warrior briefly turns to Sora. “Your Majesty, if you will?”

  Sora nods. Standing, she reaches for the hem of Ariana’s tunic and lifts it off. Ariana folds her arms over her breasts and silently beseeches Hadeon to help her.

  “Whatever is the problem?” asks Sora. “Why do you stand like that?”

  Hadeon clears his throat. “Your Majesty, Earth is very different to Fiore. Women, particularly, are made to feel shame about their bodies. It’s not common practice, except for those you are having a sexual relationship with, to show others your breasts, even when covered by underwear.”

  Sora gasps and steps back. “Shame? What is this word, shame?”

  Hadeon’s mouth flaps open and shut. “It’s difficult to translate. It’s like regret or embarrassment for one’s condition.”

  “Regret and embarrassment for one’s body? How absurd. That will not do in Fiore. You’ll have to get used to our ways. I’ll not stand for this wretched shame.”

  “I’m sure Harmony will grow accustomed to our ways in time,” says Hadeon. “We must be empathetic to her upbringing. Women on Earth have a history of being mistreated in ways that I will not recount here in this company. That history has all types of ramifications, shame being one of them.”

  Sora’s eyes are wide circles. “I see.”

  Ariana glances at Hadeon.

  “Remember what I told you. There is no sexual perversion here, Ariana.”

  Ariana breathes in deeply, unfolds her arms, and drops them to her side.

  Sora gasps. “Exquisite. Simply exquisite.”

  Nyklus strides over and lowers his head to inspect the tattoos closer. They dance and wind under his gaze.

  “No doubt of your line, Harmony. No doubt whatsoever.”

  “Wonderful,” says Hadeon’s father. “So we have our queen home at last.”

  Ariana’s head reels. She stumbles back a pace and has to rest her hand against the wall for balance. Queen? She thought she was only a princess.

  Hadeon rushes over and takes her elbow. “Are you feeling all right?”

  She shakes her head. No, she mouths, unable to pass sound past her tightened throat. After a long moment, she manages to find her voice again, though her words are weak. “I need a bath and then sleep. I’m exhausted, confused…”

  Queen?

  Hadeon straightens and turns to face the others in the room. “She needs rest. We’ve had a long journey. Someone is to show Ariana to her suite.” His words are loud and authoritative.

  Sora’s brow furrows and her jaw tenses, but she pulls her lips into a tight, sympathetic frown. “Of course she must be tired.” She claps her hands. “Tuti.”

  Tuti flutters in with a gold tray filled with tea and edible plant-life. She places the tray on a small serving table and floats over.

  “Please show Ariana to her suite.”

  Tuti nods. “Come.”

  Ariana reaches for her tunic and pulls it back on before glancing at Hadeon’s solemn frown as she is led from the room.

  Ariana’s room is located on the top floor in the left wing of the palace. The space is immense, with white walls and floors covered with black woolen throw rugs hanging from walls
and under her feet. A rectangular window offers a view of the moat below and across the white landscape all the way to the forest. A bed made of mother-of-pearl stone sits in the center of the room. A reading corner surrounds the window, replete with a bookshelf full of books and a day bed.

  Ariana sits on the bed with Tuti beside her, wings wafting honey and nectar in the air around them. “Would you like me to bring you something to eat and drink?”

  Ariana shakes her head. She doesn’t want to eat; she wants Hadeon. She wants to lie beside him, her head on his chest until she feels secure in this strange palace and even stranger land.

  Tuti takes Ariana’s hand in hers—so pale and petite in comparison. “Young love can be a painful, beautiful affair,” she says in her high-pitched, melodious voice.

  Ariana blinks. “Pardon?”

  “You and Hadeon. I can feel your desire for him. I felt his too.”

  Ariana shakes her head, pulls her hand away, and stands. “No. No, you have it wrong.”

  Tuti smiles, her wings flapping ribbons of pastel colors into the air. “Do I?”

  Ariana nods as convincingly as she can but doesn’t speak, afraid an unsteady voice will betray her as a liar.

  Tuti smiles knowingly and stands.

  “I’m sorry, but I really would like to rest for a while.”

  Tuti flutters toward the door. “I understand,” she says before leaving the room and shutting the door quietly behind her.

  Ariana sits on the enormous bed and looks out the window across the field toward the surrounding forest. A tear rolls down her cheek, and she wipes it away with the back of her hand. All her life she has been displaced. And despite her body remembering that this is her birthplace and where she belongs, on a mental level, she can’t clasp onto Fiore or the palace as being her home. Never before has she felt quite so dissimilar or alone as she does now. And never before has she craved to feel the comforting arms of a lover, Hadeon, like she does at this moment.

  Chapter 24

  The next afternoon, Tuti leads Ariana down to the front entry of the palace. The beauty of this place is as breathtaking as yesterday, though more people are milling around today, casting curious glances at their future queen before moving on. Ariana is dressed in a pale blue tube dress and matching colored shoes, which appears to be the common attire for most of the women she passes. The material in Fiore is sensual, like feather-light silk, and the clothes are, in a word, skimpy.

  “Where are we going?” Ariana asks.

  Tuti flashes a glittery smile. “I’m going to show you the Spring Blossom lands.” She takes Ariana’s hand in hers and they head down the white stone ramp toward the white field.

  “Stunning,” she says, taking in the expanse of colors set against the candy pink sky.

  “Stunning it is. And yours, Ariana. Yours to own and, most importantly, to protect.”

  Ariana spins and peers at the palace stretching up to the sky. “It’s funny, but I used to read about palaces in books when I was younger. This is how I would always imagine them—soft and white, with long curving spires. I wonder now if I was actually remembering instead of imagining.”

  Tuti nods, her wings a flurry of color. “Most definitely a memory.”

  They make it to a small white building on the border of the forest that circles the palace. The noise coming from inside is most unusual, a strange buzzing hum.

  Ariana lifts a brow and smiles. “What’s that sound?”

  Tuti chimes a giggle. “You’ll see.”

  They step into the building and her mouth drops open as she sees them. Bees. Enormous bees. With glassy wings and bodies striped with bright yellow and black. Four of them crawl along the walls and roof of the building.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says.

  Tuti giggles. “I thought you’d like these. Not quite a Mira, but they’ll give you a bird’s-eye view of the surrounding lands.”

  “A stable for bees,” Ariana says, grinning. “I’ve always wondered what one would look like.”

  Tuti laughs at her sarcasm.

  “But, seriously, do we actually ride these things?”

  “Yep, so saddle up.”

  Within moments, Ariana is straddling the furry back of an eight-foot long bee, hands holding tight to a bridle fixed around its neck as though it is a horse. She follows Tuti’s lead and tugs on the reins. The bee’s wings buzz loudly as it launches from the ground. Ariana’s stomach dips and she holds tighter as they find height. She doesn’t dare look down.

  Tuti laughs. “Relax, these darlings will not let you fall.” She waves a hand outward over the view below. “Look at your beautiful lands.”

  Ariana swallows her fear and dares to look down. They are two or three hundred feet in the air above huddling blue canopies of ancient trees. The air blows her hair back and warms her cheeks. Her stomach flips, but as she lifts her head and gazes at the expansive view of the palace, the forest, and fields and fields of white spreading all the way to the silvery ocean in the very distance, exhilaration swells in her cells. She laughs out loud and smiles until her cheeks ache.

  Tuti shows her the village of Pursia, which she mentions is Hadeon’s hometown. From above, there are circular rows of quaint little houses, with pitched shingled roofs and small, square backyards. Sandy yellow paths and roads meander through the village, connecting one house to the other, and leading the way to shops, parks, and gardens.

  People scurry through the village with carts of food being drawn by hand or loping, feathery cat-like creatures. Children play with each other in the park and on street sides. Men and women dressed from head to toe in white and adorned in wide-brimmed hats tend to the flowers and plant life in the gardens that line the paths.

  They fly further away and find more little towns, each like the other, busy with life. Unity is clear. Each person respects the others’ position in life, determined not by one’s own desire, but by nature embracing the true qualities one is born with. Gardeners, doctors, farmers, teachers, cooks—every position needed to sustain a harmonic society.

  “Incredible,” Ariana says.

  “And the Sun Queen is trying to destroy it all. It’s never been about power in Fiore. It’s never been about competition, envy, or greed. But she’s changing that.”

  Ariana nods, suddenly struck with the despair of it all. “That’s so sad,” she whispers, though loud enough to be heard above the bees’ buzzing wings and the air that whooshes past them as they soar through the sky. “I grew up in a place ruled by all those things,” Ariana continues. “Where people can no longer be truthful with each other out of fear their egos will be diminished, or they won’t benefit in a transaction, or someone else will get further ahead. Where people are traded, abused, and used as mere slaves for the benefit of a select few.”

  Tuti frowns. “So you have the right perspective then. You know how much we have to lose.”

  “Yes,” she says, looking into Tuti’s ice blue eyes.

  Tuti strains a smile. “Come on, let’s head back to the palace.”

  They fly back a different route, coming in from the west. Large paddocks stretch out underneath them. And on them are shirtless, brown-haired men in black kilt-like skirts and boots. They are organized in groups of two across the paddock, hundreds and hundreds of them, grunting and straining as they practice fighting techniques.

  Is Hadeon among them? Ariana’s gaze darts over the faces as they soar past, but she can’t see him from this height.

  “He’s at the palace today. Debriefing,” says Tuti.

  Ariana blushes and looks away.

  In the next field, there are women with long blonde hair, dressed in flowing multi-colored dresses. Magic tingles in the air as they fly overhead.

  “Enchantresses,” says Tuti.

  Ariana nods. She did read about Enchantresses on the ship, once Hadeon told her how many of them have been found dead with their hearts stolen. They are formidable mistresses of magic. Even more for
midable than Warriors, who they work alongside in battles against creatures from the Darklands.

  Ariana shudders each time she thinks about the Darklands—the home of Hounds, Dark Walkers, and all things terrifying. It seems Fiore, even with all its magnificence, isn’t immune to terrifying anomalies of nature. The Sun Queen is just another example of evil arising in the midst of harmony and beauty.

  Back above palace grounds, they head to the stables. Once the bees have been tended to with sustenance, Tuti takes Ariana’s hand and leads her up the fields toward the palace.

  “It will soon feel like home,” Tuti says with a sympathetic grin, colors and glitter swishing through the air behind her. She is like a walking rainbow.

  Ariana nods. “I hope so.”

  Chapter 25

  A dinner is being held in Ariana’s honor tonight. She dresses in an ankle-length, gold gown and ties her hair up. The dress reminds her of the one Hadeon gave her on her last birthday. She stares into a long mirror and attempts to smile, though she doesn’t quite manage it. Her solemnity is vivid in her eyes.

  She misses Hadeon. She hasn’t spent this much time apart from him for many, many months. And knowing that she can’t openly talk to him, touch him, and have his body pressed against hers ever again is piercing her insides and slashing at her wrists, leaving her veins exposed and ragged. Until now, she hasn’t had time to think it through, to realize the permanency. No, that’s a lie. She has downright refused to think about it because she refused to ever consider it a possibility.

  But she knows that this secrecy is how it must be. She has witnessed how severely people have reacted to her and Hadeon’s relationship in the past—Granny and the Warriors when they were back in Scotland. Who knows what the ramifications will be here if people were to find out?

  Tuti glides into the room and smiles. “Princess Sora has asked that I collect you. The guests have arrived and are seated.”

  Ariana nods.

  Tuti takes her by the arm, her silky skin so soft and honey sweet. “If it makes you feel better, he looks as pitiful as you do.”