CHAPTER 9
Why in the World?
“I need to get away from here,” I moaned to my friends.
“Okay,” they said in unison, and moved to follow me.
“I’m sorry, but I…I need to be alone. I don’t know—I think I need to cry…or melt down, or something. If I don’t come back in thirty minutes, come find me in the apple orchard on the stone bench.”
“All right,” Hugo said.
“If you’re sure you want to be alone?” Izzy conceded, concern and reluctance written all over her face.
I nodded as the first tear escaped.
I was near one of the mirrored exit panels that the household staff used to bring food in and out. With a slight push, I disappeared behind the panel with Cheeva walking beside me. Staff members stopped in stunned silence as I passed by.
In a couple of minutes, I was out the door, with tears streaming down my face. Pulling off my high heels, I gathered my dress up in my fist, and ran toward the orchards. I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge the wolf at my side. I just needed to be away from the keep and all of those people with their shocked and mortified expressions, my father’s the worst of all.
I ran through the various gardens lit by lanterns and strings of white twinkle lights. Finally, I slowed to a jog as I approached my destination. Leaving behind the lights of the keep and gardens, I paused to let my eyes adjust to the night. I could have probably made my way blindfolded to my place in the apple orchard; I’d been there so many times. It was nearly a full moon and the stars shone brightly in the ebony of the night sky, giving me plenty of light.
I started down the second long row of trees. This row led to a bower formed by a variety of flowering trees and shrubs, inside of which sat an ancient stone bench shaped like a crescent moon. It had been in that spot for as long as my family had held this land. The semi-circle of stone could seat at least six people, but it was usually just me and occasionally Izzy and Hugo. I sat down on the bench, swiped at my tears, and allowed the beauty and serenity of this place to fill me with calm.
The small area was its own natural garden, and it was at its most beautiful this time of year. Spring came late to the Catskills, so now, in late May when much of the country was entering into early summer, here in these gently rolling mountains, the fresh blooms of spring were in abundance everywhere. I lit a candle I kept by the bench. Even in its dim illumination and the light of the moon and stars, the blooms glowed with new life. A profusion of forsythia sprang up in brilliant sprays of effervescent yellow. The fragrance from the delicate blooms of Heaven Scent Magnolia perfumed the air. The whites and pinks of cherry blossoms and dogwoods, the magenta of the redbuds all enveloped me. I closed my eyes, breathing slowly in and out, serenity beginning to seep into me.
A slight weight and warmth pressed against my knee. I opened my eyes to see the white wolf resting his flank against my legs, and his head against my shoulder.
“Cheeva?”
He raised his head and nodded.
“Why in the world did you ever choose me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m honored, but you’ve really complicated my life, and it was already getting massively complicated.”
I waited for some hint of an answer, but there was nothing. “Aren’t you supposed to be able to communicate with me?” I asked him, but got no response.
Cheeva’s crystal-blue eyes met mine and there was a deep, fathomless intensity in them. I stared back, remembering earlier when I’d lost myself within his eyes. As I stared more deeply, his eyes transformed once again to match the color of my own.
“You will learn to hear me, Queen of Chaos.”
I shot to my feet. “Queen of Chaos?” I shook my head in denial. “That sounds really, really bad, like I’m evil incarnate; like I’m the villain of an awful science-fiction horror film.”
Cheeva moved his head from side to side and tapped one paw on the bench. I was sure he wanted to connect with me again, but I wasn’t ready for more of that.
In the next instant, Cheeva swiveled around on all fours, standing rigid, his muscles tensed to pounce. A warning growl rumbled from his throat.
“Addie? Are you in there?” Rory called. “Can I come in there with you?”
Relieved, I sat back down on the stone bench. “Yes, come in.”
Cheeva stopped his growling and sat on the ground, the heat of his flank pressed comfortingly against my leg.
Rory parted the branches and slipped into my bower.
The sight of him centered me somehow. My fears, although still there, seemed to slightly diminish. Thoughts of being held by him earlier as we danced made me smile in spite of my troubles.
With a subtle flick of his hand, Rory surrounded us in a shimmering ward. Presumably having learned and practiced magic in secret for his whole life, it must have been second nature for him to protect his words by warding.
His eyebrows rose as if unsure of his welcome. “I was worried about you.”
“Join the crowd.” That earned me a confused frown. “Izzy and Hugo are worried, too. For that matter, heck, so am I.”
Rory nodded in acknowledgement, and then his amethyst eyes fell on my wolf companion. “So you have a familiar?” Rory gave Cheeva an assessing stare.
“I’m a girl, Rory. I’m not supposed to have a familiar.”
“I think that’s exactly what the white wolf is,” he said as he slowly sat down next to me.
“Maybe,” I admitted with a nod of resignation.
“And earlier, you said you could see my magic,” Rory added.
“Yep, I did.”
“So that would make you a wizard girl who can wield magic?”
“Yep, I am.” I added a shrug.
“Isn’t there some prophecy about this?”
“Yep, apparently there is.”
“Addie!” Rory threw his head back, chuckling with frustration. “This is getting old.” He turned to me, his eyes serious. “Talk to me.”
I turned to take a look at Cheeva. He didn’t seem the least bit agitated by Rory’s presence or by his outburst. Wouldn’t my familiar be concerned if I were sitting alone with a sorcerer-in-the-making? It seemed logical that Cheeva would be growling or even attacking Rory if I were in any kind of danger.
“Addie?”
“Okay.” I turned back around and sighed. “I found out today that I can do magic. I think I might be this supposed wizard queen, but only Izzy and Hugo—and, now, you—know about it.”
Rory ran a hand through his thick hair, and I wondered if it was as soft as it looked.
I tilted my head, biting my lower lip. “Well, that was before a white wolf familiar chose me in front of a few hundred wizards, including all of the North American council members. They might be figuring things out about now.”
Cheeva made a sound that wasn’t quite a whimper, but close.
Rory peered down at me, his eyes narrowing as though he was thinking hard. “You know, maybe they won’t figure this out. They think this has something to do with you being Zarius’ twin. If you just act like you normally do, oblivious to everything—”
“What?” I interrupted, sitting up straighter and pivoting toward him.
“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean that like it sounded.” Rory cringed.
I raised a single eyebrow. “You mean you didn’t mean it like you said it?”
“No, I meant you should play dumb. Not that you are dumb or are oblivious.”
“Okay, I guess,” I muttered, but secretly, I admitted to myself that I had absolutely and always been oblivious. I’d let Izzy be outraged for the both of us, and even for Hugo. I’d always just gone with what was expected, and I hadn’t questioned it. Now I seemed to be fighting back all the time, even right now, with Rory.
“My point is,” Rory continued, “people believe what they want to believe and they see what they want to see.”
It was true that I certainly had.
“Lady Acacia watches a lot of self-improvement, business-type program
s on PBS,” Rory continued. “Anyway, she was watching this marketing thing about paradigms. Basically, the message was that people believe what they want to believe and they make the information conform to their belief set. Wizards will want to believe you have no magic, so they will believe it. I think it could work.”
“Wow. That’s really…cerebral. In school, I study how to run a household and staff, how to deal with an unruly wizard toddler, how to make the most of my glamours, how to plan a party—”
“I get the idea, thanks,” Rory said with a laugh. “But do you get what I’m saying? The wizard council might believe what they most want to believe.”
“Maybe.” He was starting to make me think it was possible, if I didn’t go around challenging every authority figure in my life like I just had with my father.
“Well, it’s not like any of them can actually talk to Cheeva. Also, that same strategy has always worked for me until today. But since you could actually see my magic, then you had what’s called a paradigm shift. You believed that as a human, I had no magic, but you were faced with irrefutable proof that I had magic, so you had no choice but to shift your paradigm.”
I wanted to talk about that very topic with him, but instead I blurted, “Okay, it’s official, no more PBS for you, Rory Devlin.” And we both laughed a little at first, and then we couldn’t stop laughing. My laughter bordered a little on the hysterical side, but it felt good to let the tension bubble out of me. And I couldn’t stop. My stomach ached and tears squeezed out from the corners of my eyes.
“Well, I was all worried about you,” Izzy yelled over our laughter as she pushed into the bower. “But I guess you’re just fine.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I thought I’d find you crying, not laughing like crazy.” But her scowl was turning into a reluctant smile as I hiccupped, trying to get my laughter under control.
“Yeah.” Hugo followed her in. “Your thirty minutes are up, so we came to rescue you.” Hugo gave me a meaningful glare, his lips pursed to express the irony of the situation.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I was crying at first?”
“A little,” Izzy and Hugo chorused.
“Hey,” Izzy blurted. “I felt unwelcome coming into the bower. I had to make myself keep moving forward.”
“Me, too. What’s up with the ward?” Hugo asked.
Rory and I exchanged quick glances.
“I wanted privacy,” I began tentatively. “It must have been wish magic.”
Hugo stared at me for a minute. “That makes sense,” he finally conceded. “And we really need to talk. I researched the wizard queen prophecy and I couldn’t exactly talk to you at the party.”
“But first,” Izzy interjected, “I guess the proverbial cat, or more accurately the wolf, is out of the proverbial bag, now that you have a familiar.” Izzy whirled around to stare wide-eyed at Rory, as she realized she had potentially let the cat out of the bag.
“It’s okay, Izzy. Rory knows everything.”