— Chapter Four —

The Warlock

Before Aurora could turn and identify which guard had caught up with her—“Tenebra!”—she was blindfolded.  Out of nowhere, the black leather appeared.  As it secured itself around her head, Aurora was enveloped in darkness.  She tried to pull the blindfold off, but it would not be removed.  Panicked, she called out for help, but this only led to—“Iocus!”—a cloth gag in her mouth.  And—“Vinctum!”—not only was the cloth gag secured by a rope, which fastened itself around her head, but more ropes came for her arms and legs, wrapping themselves around her limbs, and again around themselves, putting the runaway princess in another hogtie.  Finally—“Levitatia!”—Aurora was suspended in the air again.

Now she was in trouble.  Even if she could cry for help, who was going to save her when her parents ruled the entirety of the Greenlands?  

A hand groped her right leg.  

“Don’t fight it, Princess.”

She didn’t recognise the voice; it was low and dark, with a strange accent.  Most guards were stern and formal.  But there were hundreds of men on duty at a time, so Aurora could not have possibly been familiar with all of them.

She had been so close to freedom, and yet, all her efforts had been for naught.  She was furious.

That’s it!  Furious!  It had worked with the previous bind.

She focused on how angry and frustrated she was—she focused on the audacity anyone would have to have to take her away from the woods—she focused on the dread she felt at the thought of what punishment awaited her at the castle.  

She gave a heavy, albeit muted, exhale when her wrists and ankles started to experience that same burning sensation.  With a loud sizzle the ropes came undone, and Aurora fell from where she had been hovering in the air to the ground. 

Quickly, she pulled out the gag and blindfold.  She was about to turn and run away, but then she noticed that the individual who had kidnapped her was not a guard after all.  In fact, by the mere look of him, Aurora knew that he could not have been any kind of nobleman.

Instead, a boy stood before Aurora.  He looked as though he had only lived a Sun or two longer than her.  She knew he was not of upperclass descent because of how he was dressed: in filthy old rags!  All his garments were black.  Except for his jacket: a strange pattern of various shades of muted green, as though it had been designed to mimic the Greenlandian trees.  No noble man would have been caught dead wearing something like that, especially on duty.  Not to mention how his long, messy ebony-black hair would have been far too unkempt for any upperclassman.

But despite the fact that he looked nothing like a noble-worker, the boy had been using magic to bind her, which could only mean one thing…

“You’re a rebel!”

“’Name’s Zale—Zale Castaway.  I didn’t want this to be how we met, Princess, but it wasn’t my choice.  I suggested other ways, maybe befriending ya when ya were in the woods.  But my leader wouldn’t have that.  Said it would be too risky what with yer big mouth.  So I apologise for our abnormal acquaintance.”

“How do you know about my trips to the woods?” Aurora cried, not even getting to the comment about her ‘big mouth’.  How he and his lot had known all this about her, she could not fathom.  She was very frightened.  Certainly this rebel warlock was very dangerous.

The warlock flashed her a crooked grin.  “We’ve been tracking ya, Princess, waiting for the right time to introduce ourselves.”

His friendliness stunned Aurora.  “I am not looking to make friends with a rebel—especially one who has just put me in a bind!”

Hastily, she turned to run away.  However, upon doing so, she saw men riding on horseback towards her—this time they were castle guards—and they were less than a hundred feet away.

“’Appears they found out ya have the ebony wand—better just come with me, Princess!”  

“The ebony wand?  How do you know I have an ebony wand?”  

But there was no time for him to explain.  Much to Aurora’s dislike, the warlock grabbed her hand and was now running, dragging her away from the oncoming guards.  

She was just wondering how they were going to escape castle guards travelling on horseback when the warlock whipped his own wand out of his boot.  Similar to hers, his boots were black and of lace-up style.  

The boot prints in the dirt…  That was no huntsman in Secret Glade…  It was this warlock, wasn’t it?

And Aurora held more in common with the rebel than just footwear: “Wait—your wand is made of ebony too?”

The guards were only about twenty feet away now.  The warlock had no time to answer the runaway princess’s many questions.  He shot his own ebony wand up into the air.  “Vocantemia ebony broomstick!” That was all it took for his broom—the ebony broom—to come whizzing back through the trees.

“Get on!” he ordered.

Aurora hesitated.  She had no idea what this rebel warlock was planning on doing to her.  Whatever it was, however, it had to be better than the punishment awaiting her back at the castle.

“Where are we going?” she asked, clutching the warlock’s shoulders as he steered the broom. 

“Away from them.”

Up in the air, they flew, higher than she had flown during her first encounter with the ebony broom.  She tried not to get too close to the warlock, but this was challenging, as there was only so much space on the stick.

“Can this thing really fly two people?” she asked, looking down at the ground below, getting smaller and smaller the higher they flew.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to, but what choice do we have?”

“We?  Wait—how do you know that I’m running away from the castle?”

“Ya did notice the wands, right, Princess?”

“Of course, I noticed—we’ve got the same kind.  That doesn’t answer my question, though.”

“Wasn’t everyone appalled when ya pulled that wand out at the Grain Moon Ball?”

“Yes, because there was an angry dragon at the end of it!  And how do you know about that, anyway?”

“That’s not the only reason, Princess—think about it.”

But Aurora had already thought back to her parents’ disgust over the wand.  “Well, actually my parents did confiscate it from me…  They were appalled I possessed such a thing!”

“And why would they be appalled, Princess?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“Well, what do ya want to know?”

Aurora could not stand how he was playing these mind games with her.  “I don’t know!  I’m still confused by it all.”

“Yah?”

“Well, yes, I mean my whole life they’ve been asking me to—”  Then, however, Aurora realised that this rebel warlock would not be aware of her infamous legacy.  “Alright, this is quite embarrassing—”

“Yer the Mundane Princess,” the warlock finished, as he steered the broom eastward.

“How do you know that?” Aurora cried, flushing.

“How do I know that?  Yer famous!”

“I believe ‘infamous’ is the correct term.”

“Not where I come from.”

“You mean your rebel coven?”

“Yah, we love ya there.”

“Why?  Did your lot steal my powers and divide them up or something?”

The warlock looked as though he could have died laughing.  “Is that how ya think we got our powers, Princess?  By stealing them?”

Aurora said nothing.

“I think ya will find, Princess, that, in actuality, things have been stolen from us.  It wasn’t our coven who did the stealing.” 

“What do you mean?”

But before the warlock could answer, castle guards appeared all around them, only this time on brooms.  Aurora opened her mouth to give the warlock an order, but he had already leaned forward on the broom to whiz them further up in the air.  

Higher and higher they went, even higher than the unicorn-drawn carriage had gone.  The world below them looked fit for gnomes and dwarves.  Aurora dared not stare downward too long; if she did, she would certainly vomit all over the warlock.

“Hold on tight, Princess,” he said, in an awfully calm voice considering their altitude.  

The warlock was clearly determined to get the two of them away from the guards.  He may have kidnapped her but, oddly, this was now Aurora’s only chance of freedom. 

The guards were still only just behind them, so the warlock continued to take them further into the air until they were up in the clouds.  

“I can barely see anything!” cried Aurora.

“That’s the point, Princess,” the warlock reassured her.

The guards were still gaining on them—and, if that was not bad enough, two guards were now flying on either side of them as well, closing them in.

“I think they can still see us!” Aurora cried.

It would have been bad enough for the guards to catch her on her own, let alone with a rebel warlock.  Oh, how she wished they were invisible!  

She felt really daft having it occur to her only just then.  

“Wait—I have an idea!” she assured the boy.

But perhaps, she should have been less certain, for would it work on both of them?  

Might as well try.  With all her might, Aurora wished for the two of them to be invisible.  She closed her eyes, and thought about how invisible she felt at the castle, and how much better it would have been had she just never been born at all.  

Upon opening her eyes again, she, and only she, appeared to no longer be there.

“How did ya do that?” the boy questioned, gawking at her seemingly nonexistent hands in disbelief.

“I don’t know—I sort of just wished for it.”  Truthfully, she didn’t have any more explanation.  “Maybe you should try it.”

“Alright.”  

The two of them waited a moment, after which, he concluded: “I got nothin’, Princess.  And they’re gaining on us.  I’m going to fly down low enough for ya to hop onto a tree branch.  Ya can climb down and get as far away from here as possible.  I’m sorry I dragged ya into this—really, I am!”

Aurora was about to take him up on the offer, but then was surprised to be sickened by the thought.  The boy had seemed genuine in his apology.  And he didn’t seem like the kind of folkian who was trying to hurt her.  She had only just met him—if you could even call their encounter an acquaintance—but she could not abandon him and leave him to whatever punishment the monarchy had in store for anyone who rebelled. 

“No, I’m going to try again.”

“Princess, no, we gotta get ya off this broom.  I’ll be okay.  It’s ya I’m worried about, not me.”

“Yes, well, it’s not all about what you want!”  

And before the boy could say anything more about it, she was closing her eyes and praying to the Cosmos that the two of them could both be invisible.

When she opened her eyes, much to her relief, the boy no longer appeared to be there.

Still he was skeptical: “I’m invisible?”

The only thing left visible was the ebony broom, just as it had been with the ebony wand.  Only this time, the broom still being visible worked in their favour. 

The warlock lowered the broom, bringing them out of the clouds.  The trees remained dwarven, and the guards were just above them.  A gust of wind assaulted Aurora’s face as they accelerated—down, down, down—really just falling out of the sky.

They did not jump onto the first branch they saw.  Not only would it have been too high up, but it would have been too obvious.  Instead, the boy flew them down further and further, into a thicket.

It was so strange: going from up in the clouds, where the trees appeared dwarven, to down in the thicket, where the trees were as tall as giants—and in this thicket, they were so plentiful it was overwhelming.

How the warlock could navigate this sea of green, Aurora did not know.  He was so agile, dodging every branch that they would have otherwise crashed into.

He paused at a sturdy-looking branch.  The broom hovered, only for a split second, just long enough for Aurora and the warlock to hop off.  Then it flew away, zipping through the trees.

The two escapees were perched on the branch, holding their breath.  They only exhaled a sigh of relief when the group of guards flew right past them to continue following the ebony broom.  

“Idiotic rebel doesn’t know the broom’s still visible!” one of the guards called.

Another called back, “Well, remember they aren’t allowed to do magic for a reason: they’re imbeciles!”

Aurora was quite pleased—that was until she heard one of them say, “I cannot believe that Princess Aurora is having an affair with a rebel.”

The runaway princess’s insides did a somersault.  She could not help herself from shouting, “An affair with a rebel?  Really!”

“Shush!” the warlock hissed, covering her mouth with his hands.  “We’ve only just escaped them—don’t ruin it for us.”

Irritated, Aurora shoved him away from her.  “Stop it!  I can take care of myself!”

“Oh, really, can ya now?  Ya have been on yer own for what?  An hour?”

Aurora was about to argue, but he spoke first: “Don’t make me put the gag in again, Princess.  Trust that I dread the thought—truly, I do!  But not nearly as much as I dread the thought of being caught by yer lot.”

And likewise, Aurora did not want to be caught with a rebel warlock.  So, despite her annoyance with the boy, she gave in and waited until he reckoned it was safe to speak.

A good quarter of an hour later, the warlock finally said, “Alright, they’re gone,” and Aurora let the invisibility go.

The same crooked smile slid up the boy’s face again.  “I’m impressed that ya got that invisibility glamour to work on both of us.” 

Now that they were sitting so close on the tree branch, Aurora got a better look at him: a well-shaped nose, a narrow chin, a strong jawline, and a tall forehead.  Although he was just a boy, his skin looked much more weathered than that of Aurora’s.  They were both pale, but while the Greenlandian Princess had a smooth, youthful complexion, the warlock’s face was plagued with untimely lines.

“I’m pretty impressed myself,” Aurora agreed.  “I’m still confused though.  The first time I conjured it, I was holding the ebony wand in my hand and, just as the ebony broom did, the wand remained visible.”

“Yah,” confirmed the warlock, leaning back against the trunk of the tree.

“Well then, this time around, why were the wands invisible, but not the broom?” she asked him.  For Aurora, it was as though this rebel warlock was some kind of encyclopaedia on magic—or at least on the magic shehad managed to conjure.

“’Cause they were in my boot,” he answered, and he reached down into one of his tall black lace-up boots and pulled out not one, but two ebony wands.

Aurora looked down at her own boot.  There was no wand in there.  Panicked, she began prodding at the pockets of her dress.  Nothing.  The rebel warlock had stolen her wand.

Furious, she demanded, “Give me my wand!”

“Yer wand?  Do ya even know who made this wand, Princess?”

Aurora was silenced.

Then, to her surprise, the rebel boy chuckled and tossed her one of the pieces of ebony.

Awkwardly, she caught it.

“Professor Spensar Owl, he’s the one who made it, if yer curious.  And yah, he crafted the ebony broom as well.  And yah, we sent both of them to ya, Princess.

“And as for why the wands were invisible when they were in my boot?  I couldn’t say exactly—invisibility is tricky.  But I hear it is easier to work on yerself than it is to work on other folkians, not to mention objects.  Part of why I’m so impressed that ya were able to conjure it.  And ya did it, not only off wand, but off word too… Cosmos!  

“Well, obviously our clothes went invisible, and ’cause the wands were in my boot, I suppose the Cosmos considered the wands in the same light—that’s why I snatched yer wand away from ya when ya were busy casting the invisibility, and tucked it into my boot with my own wand.”

“If I had only known that would have worked,” Aurora grumbled, as she tucked the ebony wand back into her boot.  “It would have made my escape from the castle much easier.”

“But ya made it,” the warlock assured her, grinning.

There was an uncomfortable pause before Aurora spoke again: “I have to ask—why didn’t you conjure the invisibility?”

The warlock seemed overwhelmed by the very notion: “Me?  I can’t!  As I’ve said, invisibility is not easy magic to perform.”

“Yes, but you must be older than me.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!  Not when I’m on the other side of things…”

“The other side of things?”

“I am a rebel,” the warlock reminded her—and from the tone of his voice, Aurora could tell that he thought it was a stupid question.

“I know, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Eh, best to get my leader to explain this to ya.”

If this warlock honestly thought Aurora was going to meet his leader, he was mad.  Instead of addressing the idea, she found herself asking, “Then tell me, why was I unable to work the invisibility on both of us at first?”  She knew it was probably not a wise idea to ask this warlock any more questions, but her curiosity was taking over.

“Well, ya have only done a little bit of magic: the crashing of yer family’s carriage, the breaking of the golden slippers, the dragon, the burning of the chains, the invisibility, and the wand sparks…  And they were all the result of strong emotions.  Yer in the early stages of yer magical development.  It’s moody—tricky to work when ya want it to—and tricky to shut it off sometimes too!”

“Wait!  I crashed my family’s carriage?”

“Yah.”

“And the maids were right?  I broke the golden slippers?”

“Yah.”

Aurora stared at the warlock.  “How do you even know all of this?”

“Eh, just ’cause we’re rebels doesn’t mean we don’t learn the theory!  It’s not all fun and games for us, ya know!  In fact, we have to work extra hard to do any kind of spell most of the time.  That bind I put ya in—‘Vinctum’—I’ve been practising it for months to—”

“No, you fool!  How do you know about the spells I’ve cast?  And about me being the Mundane Princess?  And how in all of the curses of the Underworld do you know about my trips to the woods?”  Aurora had always thought those ventures were private.

“As I’ve said, we’ve been tracking ya, Princess.”

“Tracking me?”

“Yah, I’ve been keeping an eye on ya since ya first started making yer trips to the woods.  That’s around the time they started calling ya that, right?  That’s around the time ya knew ya were… well…”

“Different,” Aurora finished.

“Yah, and I don’t mean anything bad by it either!  Trust me—yer difference is exactly why yer so praised where I come from.”

“I am?”  Is he speaking the truth?

“Well, o’ course!  Especially in the last few days.  I mean, it was always alluded to that ya would be the one.  But now, it’s all been confirmed.  We need ya, Princess.”

“You need me?” Aurora breathed.  She didn’t think it was possible for someone to be this mad.

“Yah.”

“My apologies, but I think your lot must have made a mistake.  I’m not a powerful sorceress or anything of the sort.  In fact, considering my mother wants me kicked out of the castle, I’m not even worth holding ransom—try my brother, Prince Jonathan, if you’re looking for someone of value.  Trust me, whatever it is you want me to do, you are better off finding someone else!”

She was about to begin her climb down the tree when the warlock grabbed her by the shoulders.

It was in this moment Aurora noticed his eyes were the same shade as hers: the same forest green, with vibrant streaks that looked as though they could have been shards of emeralds.

“Princess, yer the one!  Please!  Just let me explain!”

Aurora stared wide-eyed at the warlock.  “You may have saved my life just now, but trust me when I tell you this: you are a nutter!”

He rolled his eyes.  “Listen—ya haven’t been able to do magic all yer life, right?”

Aurora decided to entertain his deluded fantasies: “Right.”

“Up until the last few days, right?”

“Right.”

“And what was different about those days?”

“Well, I think it was the ebony wand.”

“Which I also have.”

“Right.”

“Oh, how is it not obvious?!”

Aurora was very done with this conversation.  It was time to return to her favourite little glade and visit her animal friends.  

“I’m sorry, uh, whatever you said your name was—”

“Zale.”

“I’m sorry, Zale.  I cannot be of any help to you or your lot, but I give my thanks for your rescuing me from the castle guards.”

“Princess, the ebony wand is the wand of the coven I am part of!  It’s destiny!”

“Destiny.  Tell me, Zale, are all warlocks this daft?”

“Not half as daft as yer lot!  Please, I don’t mean to be rude—but just shut up and listen to me!  Us having the same wand, it is destiny!  It is what the true prophecy claims!  Not that made-up nonsense regarding magical restriction!”

“Right, so I’m supposed to believe what some rebel warlock tells me about the prophecy instead of what the monarchy tells me.”

“Have ya ever actually seen the thing?”

“What?”

“Have ya ever actually seen the prophecy?”

“Well, no…”  

How could this rebel boy dare ask such questions?  Was he not aware, for anyone who was not the emperor or the empress, that looking at a prophecy would be highly dangerous?  Even the kings and queens like her parents were not allowed to look at such divine visions.

“Seriously?” Zale gawked.  “He hasn’t given ya any proof and ya just blindly follow him?”

“I don’t know.  It’s the way things are.  And it’s the way they’ve always been.”

“No!  It’s not just the way things are!  And no!  They haven’t always been this way!  Even that ruddy, fake prophecy tells of how things have not always been this way.”

“Well, yes, you are right about that.  But that doesn’t mean that the prophecy is fake.”

The boy looked as though he was about to explode.  “Emperor Sola is a fraud!  How is that not apparent to ya?”

“A fraud?  Well, I don’t know about that.  Far too wealthy?  Yes.  Conceited?  Yes.  Arrogant?  Yes.  A pompous ass?  Definitely.  But a fraud?  I don’t think so.”

Zale grabbed her hands and begged, “Please, Princess, listen to me!”

Aurora was hesitant still.

But the warlock was looking rather desperate.  “Do ya trust him?”

“Trust him?  Well, no, not really…”

“Exactly!  And ya shouldn’t.  That prophecy regarding magical restriction—he made it all up, Princess!  I ain’t lying about it.  He’s the liar—abused his trust of the folk to get where he is.”

“His trust of the folk?”

“Ya know how we got to New-Camelot, right?  About how the generation before ours travelled on broomsticks through outer space, from planet Earth to this one.”

Very offended, Aurora cried, “Of course I know about that!  I was made to study such topics every day!”

Zale ignored her hard feelings: “Our ancestors were running from the witch trials.  ’Course, they weren’t just burning witches—warlocks too!”

“Please don’t use those words!”

“What words?”

“Witch and warlock.”

“Why not?”

“They’re offensive!  Our kind consists of sorcerers and mages.  And then the mundanes.”

“And then the rebel witches and warlocks!”

“Wouldn’t you rather give yourself a more respectable title?”

“Princess, we were witches and warlocks before we travelled, before that damned prophecy was forged by Sola.”

“I still don’t believe what you’re saying.”

“’Cause ya interrupted me.  Let me finish.  Our lot was travelling on broomstick through outer space, from one Star system to another.  They—our parents’ generation, that is—had no idea where they were going.  Everyone was terrified, but they didn’t have much choice.  Our entire way of life was threatened.  Sola was one of the leaders of the journey.  Brave?  Sure, he was brave.  But his fame went to his head.  He knew he had the trust of the folk, so he spun a lie that suited him—and well, here we are.”

Aurora knew she was just going to have to go along with what this rebel warlock was saying.  “Alright…  But what does this have to do with me?  Surely, if you dislike the royalty so much, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

“But we do, Princess.  As ya have proven in the last couple of days, yer resistance to magic has nothing to do with ya being a mundane.  It has everything to do with ya not aligning with yer family.”

“Not aligning with them?”

“Do ya like yer family, Princess?”

“Not at all!”  Privately, she was very satisfied that somebody had finally asked her this.

“And why not?”

Aurora ran her hands across the rough bark of the tree branch.  There was so much to dislike; how could she narrow it down?  Between the excessive pride, the snooty attitudes they had towards the mundanes, the obsession with power and prestige, the horrible punishments, and the constant pressure for her to be someone she was not, the runaway princess struggled to choose her words.  She longed to tell the boy about all her childhood struggles just to be heard, but didn’t think it was a wise idea to share that much of herself with a stranger, not to mention a rebel warlock.

“I suppose—I suppose it’s because my parents and I don’t have similar ideas about how things should be.”

“Exactly.  So, how could magic blossom in any young witch—”

“Sorceress!” Aurora corrected.

Zale closed his eyes in frustration.  “Fine—how could magic blossom in any young sorceress—when yer home life triggered so much resistance in ya?  We sent ya the ebony wand.  Our ideas are much more in line with yer own, believe it or not.  I suspect ya have been resisting yer parents and their ways for so long that yer powers got halted.  The ebony wand allowed ya to explore them from yer own place, not theirs.”

Aurora took a moment to consider this—to genuinely consider this.  It wasn’t impossible.  She had studied magical theory, and if there was one thing she knew about the Craft, it was that it could be extremely temperamental.  

“I suppose that makes sense.  But if all that’s true, then you must have sent the broom too.”

“The one we were just riding?  Yah.”

“But why did you send these things to me?  Why would you want to help me?  Aren’t I one of them?”

“Them?”

“One of the royalty!  One of the people you defy, what with your illegal practice of magic!”

“Ya seem to believe that ya have to live the life that was bestowed upon ya at birth—be ‘one of them’, as ya say—but what if I told ya that ya don’t have to live that life?”

Aurora shot him a confused expression.

“We’ve been watching ya, Princess, as I said, waiting for ya to grow old enough.  Once I realised ya might have been getting married, I wanted to come get ya right then.  But my leader insisted I send ya the broomstick first, to get ya out of the castle—no sense in risking myself for nothing.  Then I could give ya the ebony wand safely.”

The boot prints in Secret Glade… that rustling noise…

“Wait, so you were actually there in the woods with me?”

“Yah.”

“How many nights have you been there watching me?”

“It was my orders, Princess—someone had to keep an eye on ya.”

“Would you have come and rescued—I mean, kidnapped me otherwise?” 

“’Course.”

Aurora could not help herself from feeling comforted by this.  In a small voice, she uttered, “My thanks.”

Zale was quiet.  He stared deeply into Aurora’s eyes.  

Then he shook his head.  “I mean, it’s just my orders.  And I would have been risking my life sneaking into the castle to take the daughter of the king and queen.  But oddly enough, I sorta would have preferred it that way.”  And he gave Aurora a little smile.  

But soon that smile faded.  “I mean, ya will probably never see me in a good light, the way I did do it.”

“Uh, I—I don’t know.”

She could not stand how she was starting to warm up to the boy.  Her initial dislike of him was fading, mainly because he was clearing up many of her confusions.  All the same, he had kidnapped her.  Maybe it was best not to trust him.  He could very well be spinning a collection of tall tales to win her over.

“So, what have you sought me out for, anyway?” Aurora asked, in a tone that eerily reminded her of her mother’s, when the Greenlandian Queen was listening to the troubles of the Greenlandian folk in regal hearings.

“Ya will have to talk to the rest of my coven if ya would like that answer, Princess.”

Aurora hesitated.  As curious as she was, she had already got herself into so much potential trouble today.  But then again, these people may be able to give her some of the answers she had been longing for all these Suns.  And so, after another uncomfortable pause, she gave the warlock a little nod.

“Wonderful, Princess!” he cheered.

“I have a request though,” Aurora said, as they began to climb down the tree.  “Could you stop calling me ‘Princess’?”

Zale, who had gingerly hopped down onto the branch lower, paused to look up at Aurora.

“Please!” she added.

“I was just trying to be polite about it, Princess—I mean, uh—well, what should I call ya?”

“My name—Aurora.”

“Alright, so long as ya call me Zale.”

Aurora nodded.

They made their way down the rest of the tree.  This was not a challenge for Aurora, who was well-practised in climbing, and Zale himself was very nimble.  No, the runaway princess and the rebel warlock had no trouble finding the mossy forest floor again.

Once at the bottom, Aurora looked up at the sky, filtered by a sea of branches.  “But what will become of the ebony broom?”

“Oh, it will be fine, I’m sure.  Without the weight of us, it can move much faster than the guards.  It will fly far ahead and lose them and then make its way back to the coven.”

“Does that thing have a—well, I know it sounds silly—but does it have a mind of its own?”

“What?” Zale scoffed, as though he thought the princess was mad.  “O’ course the broom has a mind of its own, Aurora, just as all magical items do!  Didn’t they teach ya that in the castle?”

No, they most certainly did not teach me such nonsense!  

But knowing she would have to cooperate if she was going to attain the answers she was so desperately seeking, Aurora thought it better to avoid the argument.

Aurora had many more questions for Zale, but the stern look on the warlock’s face, as he navigated their way through the woods, told her now was not the time to ask.  

Through thicket upon thicket, they trotted—and downward through valleys—and upward over hills.  Hours passed.  Judging by the Sun lowering in the Summer sky, Eventide was nigh.

They were so deep into the forest now that the Greenlandian Mountains, which had always been so very far north of the little princess, no longer appeared tiny.  The rushing of water could be heard in the distance.

“‘If lost in the Greenlandian trees, listen for the river’s call—for once at the river, now out of the woods’,” Aurora recited.

Zale turned his head toward her and raised an eyebrow.

“We’re nearing the Greenlandian River, aren’t we?” Aurora asked.

“Yah, we aren’t too far from it.”

The Greenlandian Princess was so very far from home.  She had thought she knew much of the forest, but really she had only known her little glade.

She was just wondering what kind of place a rebel coven would abide in when Zale announced, “Here we are!”

They were at the entrance to what looked like a very dark cave.  Aurora would not have noticed the tiny crack in the rock had Zale not pointed it out.  Unable to see what lay within the dark cavern, the runaway princess protested: “You’re fooling yourself if you think I’m going in there!”

“Oh, come on,” Zale groaned.  “I live here—it’s perfectly safe.”

“I know your lot is in hiding, but why a cave of all places?”

“Judging by yer reaction, ya should be able to answer that yerself—no one wants to go looking in here.  Besides, my lot doesn’t even live in a cave.  No, we live past that, at least one hundred feet underground.”

“Underground?!”

“Yah, most of the members haven’t seen the light of day in many suns—and some never have—but it’s been an exceptional hideout.”

Both the princess and the warlock shared a pale ivory complexion, but for different reasons: the Greenlandian Princess because she was sheltered, and the warlock because he was in hiding.

The warlock began walking into the cave.  Reluctantly, Aurora followed.  Much to her dislike, Zale led her so far into the cave the Sunlight almost couldn’t reach them.  Aurora’s whole body was tense; was a demon going to come up and attack her from behind?

As though he could sense her fear, Zale said, “We’ve got some light—don’t worry,” and he picked up a lantern.  

He must have known where it was out of mere memory, for Aurora would not have seen it had she been on her own.  

The rebel boy turned to her and asked, “Mind setting fire to the wick?”

“Can you not?”

“Probably not as well as ya.  Don’t exactly trust myself with Fire Magic.  Ya know just as much as me that it’s the most temperamental.”

Aurora was about to argue, but then she remembered that this rebel boy was keeping her safe.  It was best to agree with him.  Unaware of what she was supposed to do, she clutched the ebony wand and tried to conjure a flame.

“Think about something that makes ya angry,” Zale suggested.

Aurora thought about how angry she was that she was going to be stuck underground and not outside in the greenery of the trees, and—Snap!  Pop!  Crack!—sparks appeared out of the end of the wand. 

“Angle the wand towards the lantern,” instructed Zale, holding it open towards her.

With the right aim, the candle inside the lantern was lit, and they had light.

“Thank the Cosmos,” breathed Aurora.  “Why didn’t you leave that thing outside?  Why did we have to come all the way in here to get it?”

“Do ya really think we want the guards knowing folk live here?”

Aurora shook her head.

“I know yer scared,” Zale said, extending his hand towards her. 

They had held hands once before—if you could call it that.  But now that they weren’t running away from castle guards, Aurora got a better look at the state of his.  In the lantern’s light, Aurora saw that the warlock’s hand was not only filthy, but also covered in all kinds of scars. 

“Yer best to take my hand, Aurora.  The coven is down several narrow corridors, and they’re dark—even with the lantern.”

Aurora hesitated.  “Why are your hands so—so—”

“Filthy?” the warlock finished for her.  “Aurora, it ain’t easy living for any peasant, let alone a rebel.  We are underground, after all.”

He must have been able to sense the princess’s fear: “Oh, Aurora, don’t worry—I gotcha—take my hand.  The common room is brighter anyway—got a lot of candles.”  

Initially, Aurora had not wanted to touch Zale’s dirty hand.  But once their fingers were interlaced, her resistance left her.  A rush of warmth started from her chest and ran through her whole body.  There were tingles in her legs.  Her head felt light.  It felt as though there were butterflies fluttering around inside her stomach.  But it was not the same feeling she had been plagued by the night she met Prince Daniel.  No, the feeling was surprisingly enjoyable, albeit intense.  

Aurora shook her head.  Should she really let herself be so comforted by this rebel boy?  For all she knew, he was casting some sort of evil spell on her, forcing her to relax so that he could get the Greenlandian Princess in the clutches of his coven.  Somehow though, she could not stop herself from feeling safe with him.  So, without any further protest from Aurora, they continued their journey downward.

It made sense the rebels lived so far underground.  If these folk were caught, there would be major consequences.  Aurora did not know exactly what those consequences were, but she knew they were severe.  And, at this rate, it was probable that Aurora would be punished along with them!

This was another reason she knew she had to keep going.  She didn’t exactly have the option of turning them in.  If she made a break for it, she would just be held prisoner again, either by the monarchy or the rebels.  No, even if the warlock was taking her deep down into the Underworld, she felt it better to at least try to talk civilly with his coven.

There wasn’t much she could do for them, though.  If they were going to hold her ransom, in exchange for permission to use magic, they were fooling themselves.  Her parents did not value her enough to give this rebel scum so much as a single gold coin, let alone the rights to magical practice.

“Left here, right here, just down here,” Zale instructed.  Through the corridors—which turned out to be more like tunnels—he led her, one hand tightly clutched to Aurora’s, one hand holding the lantern high in the air.  It would have been pitch black had they not had this light source.

Down, down, down, they went.  The tunnels had a musty odour.  Although they couldn’t be seen, it was certain there were spiders and worms all around them.  Aurora was grateful she had selected a black garment, for her boots and clothing were certainly going to be filthy—filthier than even she was okay with.

They journeyed until they arrived at a rounded wooden door.  Zale announced, “We’re here!”

Zale let go of Aurora’s hand to give a strange knock—it had a specific rhythm to it.

“Coded knocking before we enter,” he explained, “so the coven doesn’t go into a panic.”

Then, out of his Greenlandian-print coat pocket, the warlock pulled a rusty old key, and as though he was a mundane, he inserted it into the keyhole and unlocked the door.  Aurora wondered why the coven didn’t use magic to lock their door; they were witches and warlocks, after all.  

The warlock turned the knob and pushed on the door.  It creaked upon opening.  He stepped inside.  

Hesitantly, Aurora followed.

“Everyone, Princess Aurora has arrived!”

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