Spellbound

Chapter 16

    “Let’s try this,” Senya muttered to herself. She was back at the garden, standing in front of the enormous illios tree. The dream from the night before was still fresh in her mind.

    Find the key, the butterfly had told her.

    Senya opened her fist, revealing the emerald butterfly pin she had found. Surely it couldn’t be a coincidence. A butterfly, a so-called key that Senya was meant to find. Surely, this pin had to be it.

    Senya took in a deep breath before she stepped closer to the tree. “You told me to find the key. I found it.”

    She held it up between her thumb and forefinger, watching it glimmer under the dim sunlight. She would have to make this quick before it started to rain.

    “Here. Open.” Senya pressed the butterfly against the tree. For a good few seconds, nothing happened. Senya frowned and flicked her hand around to take a look at the butterfly again. Perhaps she’d been placing it wrong. After all, keys had to be inserted the correct way in order to work. Although usually, there would be a hole of some sort that would allow that.

    Senya hummed in thought. She tried placing the butterfly against the tree in every possible angle, then, when she realized she might not even be placing it on the right spot, she backed away to reassess it. It would be impossible for her to cover every inch of the tree, even if she had all day.

    Find the key. Senya frowned. Open the chest.

    “Of course!” Senya could have slapped herself. The chest was inside the tree, not outside of it. If she was to open it, she would first have to reveal it. But, it wasn’t as if she could cut it down, especially not on the basis of a dream. Everyone including herself would think her mad if she cut out a portion of the tree because she believed it had a heart. It was ludicrous.

    But what if…what if there really is something inside? A thought struck her. The tree was magical. Surely Senya would be able to feel inside of it the same way she could find the origin of magic within herself. In a sense, it was a heart. Only, instead of pumping blood, it would be pumping magic. So, Senya drew close to the tree once more. This time, she placed her hand against the tree and directed her magic to it, hoping to sense whatever was hidden within it. She hadn’t even realized that she still pressed the butterfly against the cool, rough surface.

    The moment her magic connected, she felt a forceful pulse of power come at her. Loud rasps whistled in her ear, the voices of so many screaming like a powerful blizzard wind. She felt someone grab her wrist. Cold, ghostly fingers that clutched tight and pulled. Senya gasped and staggered back. Her ears still rang with the sudden stimulation, and she was dazed.

    From the distance, thunder shook the sky. Senya shuddered. The light seemed to be getting even dimmer by the minute, and a dampness loomed in the air. Whatever was in the tree, whatever “treasure” was in it, Senya had a sudden will to not find out. The dream took on an ominous hue. Now that Senya thought back to it, she felt that everything she saw in the dream—the vibrance, the beauty, the life—was all just an illusion. Something to draw her in, to capture her interest. And now, here, she saw what truly hid underneath.

    Senya rubbed her wrist, where she had felt the phantom grip. She could see a handprint wound tightly around it.

    “That damned bastard,” Senya murmured. She backed away from the tree, careful to not trip over its roots. Yes, it had to have been a mark left by Tyrion. The ghostly grip…couldn’t have happened. Because no one else was in the garden but Senya.

    Some say they see the witch who died to create that tree, Liane had said. Another shudder broke through. Senya felt sick. Her head buzzed.

    “But ghosts aren’t real,” she told herself. “Ghosts don’t exist.”

    The wind picked up, and as it whirled through the tree down to the garden, it wailed. A louder rumble of thunder followed. That was it. Senya couldn’t stay here any longer. She had to go. That magic in the tree…it simply wasn’t right. She had to get out of there before anything happened. Exactly what that would be, she wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t about to stay any longer to find out.

*    *    *

    Senya was restless for the entire day leading up to the ball. In fact, she was so unnerved, so unable to shake off this feeling of dread that she decided to skip the ball tonight. Almost everyone had accepted Senya’s excuse that she wasn’t feeling so well, but it took Liane a while to accept that Senya wouldn’t be going. Senya almost caved her friend insisted on staying with her for the rest of the night.

    “What kind of friend would I be if I go to a party while you’re sick?” Liane argued. “Besides, I won’t have any fun if I keep worrying about you.”

    Senya let out a sigh. She loved Liane, but sometimes, the girl was impossibly stubborn.

    “I’m not sick, exactly, Liane,” Senya explained. At least, she was trying, but she didn’t count on Liane listening. “It’s just…I’m not used to going to a ball every single night. I need one night of rest, just one, then I’ll be hyped up for the rest of the week. Promise.”

    “Then I’ll rest with you.” Liane crossed her arms. Her petulance would have been funny had Senya not already been exasperated.

    “Liane, please. I need to be alone tonight.” Senya felt bad for the tone she used, but she knew Liane would never listen to her otherwise.

    A few seconds of silence passed. Then, Liane dropped her childish mask and sighed. “Are you sure?”

    Senya nodded. “Yes.”

    “Fine.” Liane bit her lip and stared right into Senya’s eyes. “But, if you need something—anything—promise you’ll let me or the others know. Even if it’s a glass of water, just send a servant to me, and I’ll get it for you.”

    Senya shook her head, a grin slowly spreading across her face. “Liane.” She laughed. “What would I ever do without you? Now, go. You should get ready.”

    “Okay.” Liane started towards the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and glanced back. “Senya, are you homesick?”

    Senya only smiled. “I think so.”

    Her answer seemed to satisfy Liane, and the girl left with a small smile in reply. Left alone in her room, Senya collapsed onto the cushy chair that she’d dragged out of the vanity. Her head buzzed, whirring as if bees had taken residence within her skull. It made her head spin, and her skewed vision was not doing her stomach any favors.

    Groaning, Senya closed her eyes and pressed her fingers onto her forehead. It took a few moments for the buzzing to stop, and when it did, Senya was able to get back up.

    Should you take it, the tree will die. Why was she thinking of that now? Senya looked down at her palm, at the lines that a soothsayer might read. What exactly had happened when she touched the tree? Had she unlocked the chest? Or was it simply the sheer power of it that had drained her energy?

    “I need to get out of here.” Senya looked out the glass door of the balcony. A light shower left droplets against the windows, and the dim glow of the moon was barely visible from behind the clouds. With the drizzle, no one would be outside. Senya decided that she would visit Min-Min’s grave. Maybe she’d see the cat that lingered there when she saw her mother. Ghost or not, Senya hoped to see it again.

    It was easy enough for Senya to make it past the guards. Though she only wore a comfortable dress with a cloak over her shoulders, she found that simply being confident was enough to deter them from questioning her. Once she had reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned away from the direction of the ball and instead headed towards the open doors that led to the garden. Wet puddles indicated that the rain did little to deter some people from going outside.

    Senya shrugged. Some didn’t mean a lot. At the very least, the fact that the puddles were indoor meant whoever had been out there had come back inside. She stepped outside, letting the wind and the needles of water cool her skin. It felt good.

    “Enjoying the weather?”

    Senya flinched. She whirled around, her hand clutched over her heart. “Who…?” The question died at her lips. Under the soft glow of the lamps, despite the shadows that obscured his features, Senya immediately recognized him. If it wasn’t his midnight hair hung loosely over his eyes or the boyish roundness of his chin, it was the regal uniform and the expensive jewels that gave him away.

    “P-Prince Billan.” Senya hastily bowed.

    “Please.” He held out his palm as a sign to stop. “Let me escape the formalities for a few minutes. It is the reason I've come out here. Just Billan will do. And you?”

    “I’m…” Senya straightened her posture, still unsure of how to act. “My name is Senya, my pri—Billan.”

    “Senya?” Recognition sparkled in his eyes. “Ah, yes. You’ve caused Tyrion some grief these past few days, haven’t you?”

    “I-well…I…” Senya’s cheeks flamed. She bowed her head. How could someone so polite like Billan be friends with Tyrion? “I don’t know what to say.”

    “No need.” Billan stuffed a hand into his pocket. “Tyrion hasn’t been this fired up for a long time. I should thank you. It’s good for him to be put in his place once in a while.”

    “E-excuse me?”

    “As a noble.” Billan smiled, and Senya could see what Veira had been seeing every year. “Rather than Pria’s unrequited love.”

    “Oh.”

    “But, that’s not all, is it?”

    “What—?” Senya was baffled. She hadn’t known what to expect from Prince Billan, but she certainly wasn’t expecting him to be so…eccentric.

    “You’re a witch. Misa’s daughter.”

    “Yes, Pr—” She caught herself when he tilted his head. “Yes. I am. What about it?”

    The prince let out a chuckle. There was something so childlike, so innocent in it that Senya couldn’t help but let one out herself.

    “Ah, Tyrion. Your short-sightedness never ceases to amuse me.”

    Senya wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear that. She kept quiet, pretending not to have heard.

    “Senya.” Billan spoke her name slowly, as though he was testing it on his tongue. He rubbed his chin in thought. “Senya. Yes, you might do. You just might do.”

    “Pardon? What are you talking about?”

    “Senya, witch, daughter of Misa, daughter of the people who saved Plathea. I humbly wish to make a request, if you’d be so kind as to accept.” To emphasize, Billan bowed, crossing his right arm over his chest.

    “P-Prince!” Senya exclaimed, the importance of the man bowing to her overwhelming his previous orders to be informal. “Please. Whatever it is, I’ll listen. There’s no need to bow.”

    “I’m afraid you might change your mind.” Billan kept his head down. “I don’t believe even this will convince you once you have heard what I have to say. But, I must try. I need your help.”

    Senya’s tongue refused to work, and her mouth gaped open. Was this really happening? Why? Who was she to have someone like Billan bow to her and ask for her help?

    “For my sake, please.” Billan finally raised his head and looked straight into her eyes, his own bright with so much intelligence, depth, and sincerity. “Please marry Tyrion.”