Under Her Spell

by Bridget Essex

  Isabella hitched up her skirts and stepped down and into the water. It rose about a foot and a half up her legs and was icy cold but bearable as she stepped forward with the others, all of them sloshing together. The luminescence came, she realized, from beneath the water, and as Isabella watched, the glow seemed to…swim.

  She gasped as one little light darted past her, and Emily laughed a little. “They won’t hurt you, darling,” she said, smiling and curling a hand now around the small of Isabella's back. “They’re just fish.”

  “Fish that…glow?” asked Isabella. Another dart of light swam nearer to them, beneath the water, and she could see it clearly now: it was a fish, a small one, with large, lovely fins that seemed to fan out like gauze. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Isabella murmured, as she took a step toward it, hand held out, but the luminous creature darted away from her, toward a school of light on the far right side of the cave.

  “At least they brighten the place up a bit,” Lacey chuckled, extinguishing her spheres of light overhead, as the men and women continued sloshing down the path. Overhead, the low ceiling of the stone corridor rose away from them, and the walls on either side drifted further, and Isabella realized, gradually, that they were in a larger cavern that had suddenly widened all around them, curving ever upward and outward. The stone far above them and around them was smooth, with no rock formations like those Isabella had seen in the books at the Academy, and if she had not been so enamored of the fish, she might have been a bit disappointed.

  But she was deeply enamored of the darting, light-filled creatures, the little schools of them that drifted, now, around her feet, no longer afraid of the Changers and witch, but curious.

  “Isabella, please stick to the path,” called Emily, as Isabella waded away from her in the water, trying to get a better look at a particularly lovely fish, the color of a blush, unlike any of the others, up ahead.

  “I’m fine, Em,” she sighed over her shoulder, wading a little further and a little deeper toward the school. Oh, there was the pink one, but there was also a trio of beautiful black fish with longer fins than the others, and there was one fish, a larger one, that seemed to be the color of sunset, the warm shades changing as Isabella watched, and…

  The next step that Isabella was supposed to take was simply not there, the stone beneath that footfall disappearing beneath her. Off balance, Isabella flailed for a heartbeat, then pitched forward, falling into the water that was now not two feet deep, not even three feet deep, but infinitely deep.

  She had strayed too far to the side and had found the edge of the path.

  The water was so cold and so bright all around her as she fell forward, twisting to stare upward at the beautiful fish that now seemed just like stars, suspended above. Isabella gulped down the cold water like air, and she felt a pull at her feet of a current, a strong current that seemed to drag the water down here toward a far opening in the cave wall.

  She was so surprised at this turn of events that she couldn’t even be angry at herself as the dark maw of the cave opening began to swallow her, the luminousness of the fish falling away behind her as the water claimed her, consumed her utterly.

  So this is how I die, she thought, and she closed her eyes, her body convulsing; her heart was so sad in that moment, she felt everything that she was breaking apart.

  I’m so sorry, Emily… I love you.

  The weight of the water tugged at her, but then something else was tugging at her, too, and Isabella opened her bleary eyes, and she saw a human shape holding her, and also something strangely oval-like and large, and she realized that it was Emily…and a turtle, both of them dragging her against the current.

  Witches do sink, but they can certainly still kick their legs and thrash a bit against general sinkage, which is what Isabella did now, trying to help Emily and Lacey Turtle bring her back up to the surface. Which they did, Isabella’s head breaking through the water as she spluttered and choked, the fish highly offended at this irregular disturbance of their usually calm water, retreating as far away from the Changers and the witch as they could, illuminating the far walls.

  Isabella spat out water while Mr. Ox patted her back rather reservedly with his large hand, the witch shaking in her frozen clothes, her hair hanging over her face as she tried to disentangle it from her mouth.

  When she could sort of breathe again, Emily stepped forward and held Isabella so tightly that the witch was afraid to look at the Changer’s face. When she did, she saw that Emily’s eyes were wide and dark.

  “I should have listened,” said the witch then, for perhaps the first time in her life. Emily gazed down at her with pain-filled eyes. “I’m sorry. I was reckless. I’m pretty much always reckless, but this time…” Isabella trailed off, squeezing Emily’s arms before coughing and choking for a moment more. “I love you,” said the witch then, simply.

  “Can’t you swim, Isabella?” asked Eliza, draping a cloak around the witch, who laughed until she was wheezing.

  “Witches sink,” said Emily, because Isabella couldn’t quite speak, and Isabella cast her a grateful glance, squeezing the Changer’s hand.

  When the water ended, there was, oddly, a bit of stone corridor that angled up for a little while. And then, before the assembled Changers and witch spanned a long, winding staircase of stone. It was as wide as ten people walking with their arms spread apart.

  “He’s just down below, I think,” Emily whispered, voice soft, reverent.

  Together, they descended the steps.

  Lacey had recreated her spheres of light after the luminescent fish had faded behind them, and Isabella was surprised now, after a moment, to realize that Lacey was dimming her spheres. For with each step they took, the cave was beginning to brighten around them, and by the final step, at the bottom of the stairs, there was light everywhere.

  Isabella, who had been so cold, realized she was quite warm now, and her breathing slowed, her heartbeat growing softer, lighter, as she raised her eyes to the scene before her.

  A grassy slope rose up, covered in more flowers than Isabella had ever seen in her life. There was her favorite, the fox kiss vine, with its sweetly smelling purple flowers. Violets cradled themselves in soft clumps beneath Isabella's feet. The riot and intense rainbow of color and flower that swept over the green mound was otherworldly, the heady fragrance of every blossom a perfume that intoxicated her as she stared up and up the mound…all the way up to the top.

  And there, at the summit of the hill of flower and grass, was a creature.

  As the group from Benevolence walked forward together, arm in arm now (perhaps to hold each other up; Isabella’s knees were weak from exhaustion and wonder, and she knew she wasn’t the only one), the witch could see him more clearly.

  This… This must be the Loss.

  The Glossmer.

  He was coiled in and upon himself, his massive serpentine body covered in fine white fur that seemed to glitter beneath the enveloping light. His front paws were crossed over themselves, and his massive elk-like head lay upon his furred knuckles, nostrils flaring gently as he took each deep breath. His antlers towered above everything, leaning forward as the creature lay. Small birds flocked around him, singing sweetly and landing on his antlers like branches, unseen by him as he stared down at the men and women with golden eyes that seemed to shine from within.

  He was the most beautiful thing that Isabella knew she had ever seen—or likely would ever see. And as they got closer, and her knees grew weaker, she knew. She knew she was looking at the face of a god. There was no other explanation for who and what the Glossmer was. He must be a god, an ancient god, created before time, shaped, like the story said, by Solsta herself.

  And it was strange, as they climbed the mound, for it almost seemed as if Isabella saw a shimmering shadow of a woman, a beautiful suggestion of a woman, standing beside the Glossmer, her hand resting upon his glittering fur. The woman, this somehow familiar woman, seemed to bend down just then and b
rush her lips against the side of the Glossmer’s great face, kissing his fur gently.

  And it was as she thought this thought that the Glossmer blinked his eyes, the hint of the shimmering woman fading away.

  Emily and Isabella and Lacey and Eliza and Mr. Ox and Benedict slowly lowered themselves to their knees on the mound of flower and grass, Isabella inhaling the perfume of crushed strawberry blossoms beneath her dirty and dripping skirts.

  The Glossmer raised his great head, staring down at the assembled people with his wide, golden eyes. He stood, then, uncoiling to rise, the small birds displaced from his crown of antlers swooping about him in joyous arcs.

  As he descended slowly toward them, his paws touching the grasses, Isabella felt her heart grow—for where each of his paws touched the mound of earth, a riot of bright flowers grew instantaneously, arching upward toward him.

  The great creature moved slowly down the slope until he’d drawn level with the men and women. He was gargantuan, otherworldly, as he towered above them with his great head and serpentine body and rack of antlers that seemed to hold up the stars themselves. But then he did a curious thing. He gazed upon Emily and Isabella and Eliza and Lacey and Mr. Ox and Benedict, and he bowed his head to them, closing his eyes and arching his neck as he brought his head low.

  Isabella didn’t know how she knew, but she did, in that moment: he was thanking them.

  Lacey’s breath caught in her throat, and Isabella had quite forgotten how to breathe herself when the Glossmer straightened. But then the creature stepped forward, a cluster of violets dancing up beneath his paws, and very slowly and very carefully, the Glossmer lowered his great head again and pressed his wide forehead against Emily’s.

  Just as quickly as he’d done it, the moment had passed, and the Glossmer was moving beyond them, beginning his ascension up the wide stone staircase. The other men and women rose to their feet, but Emily remained on her knees, dazed, as Isabella raced to her side, helping her beloved up.

  “It was… It was extraordinary,” Emily whispered, eyes wide and dark, and Isabella put her arms around her sweetheart and peppered the Changer’s face with kisses. Then Mr. Ox was tugging at her sleeve, and they followed the Glossmer up and into the cave.

  As a witch, Isabella knew a little something about the laws of the universe. And she knew that goddesses and gods are powerful, yes, but people are powerful, too. And that, sometimes, gods need a little help, just as much as people do. The Glossmer could bring the spring, but he was powerless if he was trapped, and the rocks that had trapped him, so small and of seemingly no consequence, had been of great consequence in this circumstance. For, somehow, the Changers and the witch had unearthed the great Glossmer, and now they moved together through the cave, time seeming to rush around them like water.

  Already, somehow, they were at the summit of the mountain.

  And the Glossmer was free.

  Isabella would never be able to say for certain later how it was that they ended up at Mirror Lake as the Ostara sun began to set. Perhaps the Glossmer’s magic thrummed through them now that they’d been blessed, or perhaps the Glossmer simply needed to be freed for the ancient magic of spring to begin, but somehow, one way or another, they were standing together on the beach of Mirror Lake, Isabella and Emily and Eliza and Lacey and Mr. Ox and Benedict. And the Glossmer was standing with them, his two front paws in the water, bending his great head to plunge his antlers into the ice and down and into the lake, as he had done each and every Ostara since time began.

  There was a great flash of light all around them. The winter storm that had been raging died; the snow fell to silence at their feet, the wind whispering into nothingness. And as they watched, the white all around them began to melt, and the grass, greening as they gazed upon it, began to peek through that evaporating whiteness. And the sun sank below the horizon as the first tentative bird opened up its throat and sang.

  From beneath the Glossmer’s paws, flowers grew, then spread across the newborn grass: violet and rose and blush and orange spilled out upon the ground, rioting upward in a chaotic burst of stamen and petal, throwing back their delicate, fragile heads to soak in the last moments of an Ostara sunset, the green of their stems quickening ever upward.

  And slowly, tentatively, Emily and Isabella and Eliza and Lacey and Mr. Ox and Benedict clasped each other’s hands and stepped forward to kneel down upon the melting snow and new grass, as the Glossmer raised his great head to gaze at them, his antlers dripping, the drops catching the sunshine and fracturing it to a sparkling iridescence. He nodded his head slowly, once, toward them. And the Changers and the witch peered down into the lake to stare into the depths of the water.

  Isabella’s eyes unfocused, and she saw her tangled red hair, her now-flattened witch hat, and a beautiful, smiling Changer beside her.

  And then…

  ---

  “Congratulations, Isabella! Oh, I’m so happy for you, honey!” said Bridey, tears in her eyes as she put her arms about Isabella and squeezed her tightly, kissing her on the cheek.

  “I can’t believe you did it,” said Pye, eyes to the heavens as she grabbed the witch about her shoulders and hugged her with an arm. “But I’m so happy for you.”

  “Oh, Belly, it’s wonderful!” screeched Tabby, wrapping Isabella so tightly in her embrace that, as usual, the witch couldn’t quite take a breath.

  ---

  Isabella breathed out, then, blinking rapidly as the scene faded from her eyes, the lake returning to its usual glossy stillness, the witch and Changer reflected, once more, from its dark depths. Isabella watched Emily glance at her quickly in the reflection.

  That had been…strange.

  Emily was watching her with dark eyes, a smile turning the corner of her mouth as Isabella looked up at her now.

  “That was so odd…” said Isabella, shaking her head at her beloved. “I can’t make sense of it. What did you see, Em?”

  “A yes,” said Emily, head to the side, smiling widely now, but before Isabella could ask her what exactly she’d meant by that, the rest of the townsfolk had arrived, spilling out from the opening in the trees from the path up from Benevolence, having set out of town when winter began to die down around them, the melting snow and the greening grass the surest sign that spring had arrived.

  There was so much cheering, so many embraces and shouts of joy as the sun dipped down below the horizon that Isabella could never have said exactly when it was that the Glossmer slipped away to go back to his cave of dreaming, to await another spring to come. But when she glanced back at the space the Glossmer had occupied, the great creature was gone, and she breathed out a sigh of relief, gazing up at the now star-speckled sky, tossing up reverence in the form of a blown kiss to the stars, to the sweet sickle moon that danced overhead.

  They’d done it.

  Spring was finally here.

  And the townsfolk congratulated Emily and Isabella and Eliza and Lacey and Mr. Ox and Benedict equally, clapping their hands on Emily’s back, just as they did to all the others. As Isabella watched this, as she saw Mr. Ox give the Changer a tentative embrace that Emily returned quietly, she realized that Emily was, finally, an integrated part of the town.

  “Happy Ostara, darling,” said Emily, kissing Isabella on the nose and drawing an arm tightly about her waist. The rush of warmth, of spring, all around them was decadent, the sweet perfume of violets beneath their feet tickling Isabella’s nose as she leaned forward, putting her hands at the curve of Emily’s waist, as she stepped forward and kissed the Changer deeply.

  “Hey, you two—don’t forget!” Lacey called to them from across the lake. “Remember you’re coming to my place for dinner later!”

  And Emily and Isabella laughed, and with the rest of their friends, they began the long walk back home to Benevolence.

  ---

  On the bank of the lake, a shimmering form stood beside Isabella beneath the outstretched arms of the flowering cherry tree. A snowfal
l of blossoms fell, and Isabella held out her hands, catching the soft petals, as the other woman, too, held up her hands. Now that they were on land, Isabella could see how truly beautiful her companion was, the flowers braided into her hair, her long gown of the softest, palest green.

  Behind her, stretched out and laying beneath the tree, was the Glossmer, his furry chin on his paws, gazing up at the woman with a quiet sort of adoration.

  Thank you, the woman whispered to Isabella, though her mouth did not move, her lips curled up at the corners.

  Stara? Stara? There you are, my darling… A woman with snow-white hair, a proud and regal woman with a crown of silver in her hand, walked out from behind the tree, and she and the shimmering woman in green embraced one another as Isabella sat down beside the Glossmer, gazing in mute wonder.

  And—hand in hand—Solsta and Stara, beloved of one another since time began, strolled along the bank of Mirror Lake. Spring and Winter walked...together.

  ---

  Isabella opened her eyes from her dream and breathed out happily, watching the sun rise in the east, climbing up the brilliant blue sky. Emily was not beside her, but upon the Changer’s pillow was a single fox kiss blossom, the purple brilliant and saturated against the ivory of the pillowcase. And beneath the blossom, there was a torn bit of brown paper; scrawled across it in Emily’s blocky cursive were three words: “Come find me.”

  Isabella’s heart raced as she traced the letters on the note, rising and brushing and plaiting her hair in the little mirror above their bed. She changed into her spring dress, the soft white one without sleeves—the most daring fashion five years ago in Arktos City—and slipped on her stockings and her boots. She almost fell down the ladder in her haste to get out of the cottage.

  “She went to the fox kiss field,” said Alice helpfully from her bowl of milk by the fireplace. And Isabella raced then through the back door and down the deer path, into the woods.