Chapter 7
The Rag Witch
Her eyes adjusted quickly and she was soon marvelling at the grand hollow around her. Paintings with frames of pure, sparking gold covered most of the walls. Each gilded border surrounded a portrait, no two faces alike.
A sweeping balcony offered a spectacular vista of the forest canopy. Harmony’s gaze sailed out across the undulating ocean of lilac leaves.
Her attention shifted upwards to admire the chamber’s vaulted-roof. The ceiling was tented in a dark-purple fabric. Glowing crystals, as numerous as stars, floated in the air. The twinkling gems shone ample light to illuminate the entire cavity.
Leoracle slowly walked across the chamber. Without distraction he strode toward a large, circular table.
The table, hewn from a thick slab of grey stone, was surrounded by twelve chairs. Each seat was whittled from a unique variety of wood. The grandest of which was made from the silver tree the very room was nestled in. The chair was so bulky it dwarfed the other eleven. More notably perhaps, it was occupied by The Rag Witch.
The old woman lifted a pipe to her lips. The device was formed from a white, snail shell and a length of bamboo. She applied a glowing taper to the shell and puffed on the pipe happily as she watched the lion saunter forward.
Her demeanour appeared to be relaxed; clearly an act. In truth she was on guard and with good reason. Leoracle had not returned to Sanctorium in five hundred years. This reunion was not altogether welcome.
Large rings of blue-smoke rose from the pipe in intermittent bursts. The bands of powder-blue smog drifted out the open balcony; sailing into the afternoon sky.
“It is good to see you, Belladonna,” Leoracle greeted, bowing his head slightly.
“I wish the feeling were mutual, Leoracle,” she responded sharply. She stared down her long nose at him. “Let’s forget the pleasantries and get down to business. What cause do you have to intrude, cat?”
“As I have already stated, I have come to seek aid,” he replied. He reached the table and placed a huge paw on the cool, stone surface.
“And you thought you would find help here?” she retorted angrily. “You come home acting like a hero returning from war. Don’t make me laugh! You are a coward. I will never forget what you did…”
“Neither will I,” he replied, unabashed.
Belladonna shook her head. “To make matters worse you charge in and lead the enemy into our midst.”
“The beasts are of no significance,” Leoracle. “Need I remind you, the throne beneath you is not yours, steward?”
“Enough. Why are you here? Say your piece and then leave.”
“I bring a gift,” he said, motioning to his side.
Belladonna shrugged at his empty gesture. There was nothing at his flank. The senile, old cat was nodding at thin air.
Realising the girl was no longer with him, Leoracle shook his head. She was worse than a kitten; always wandering off and getting into mischief. Perhaps he should have kept her in his belly until now?
“Harmony!” he bellowed. His voice rumbled into a roar.
“Rude! Don’t shout at me like that, please. I’m like, ten feet away from you,” she retorted, clearly irked and no less defiant for it. Moments later she arrived at the table. “You gave me such a fright. I was only looking at the…”
“Hush child,” he interjected. “Allow me to introduce you. This is The Rag Witch, Belladonna. She is the warden of Queen Nova's court.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m, Harmony Ryder,” she said, reaching out a hand to shake their introduction properly.
The old woman did not take her hand. Neither did she respond in any way. Unblinking she stared-fixedly at Harmony's face.
“How? How can it be so?” Belladonna whispered.
She looked at the lion with a disbelieving stare. Then, suddenly, she seized Harmony's, now rather grudgingly, offered hand.
“Oh no. Not you as well,” Harmony groaned. The look of wonder on the old woman’s face could only mean one thing. “I’m not a witch, ok? I just wanted to make that clear before you go saying anything.”
The lion and Belladonna exchanged a second glance; a look which Harmony knew only too well. It was the kind of glimpse adults share when they don't want to tell a child something. Like they are somehow protecting the youth by excluding them from what is obviously happening. Rarely, in Harmony’s experience, did this actually work.
Harmony took a seat and looked at the witch with a high degree of annoyance. The old woman had been her only real plan of escape. She was supposed to tell the lion that Harmony was human. Then she was going to be magically sent home, maybe by clicking her heels three times? Of course this imagined-reality was looking less and less likely with every passing minute.
“Tell me, Harmony Ryder,” Belladonna began. Her mouth flickered with a hint of a smile. “What do you know of, Queen Nova?”
This was the one question she had hoped to avoid. The mere fact Nova was a very distant relation would no doubt hurt her argument of being normal. Nevertheless, Harmony was not magical in any way; of this she was certain. In her opinion to think otherwise was bonkers.
“What do I know about her? Well...almost nothing,” she replied truthfully.
“Almost?” Leoracle questioned.
“Ugh, fine then. Now don't go reading into this, but…” Harmony began to explain, rolling her eyes. “I had a great aunt called Nova. She was not a queen, but rather an old woman who lived in England. I never met her. I didn’t even know she existed until the other day. I received a letter you see. My Nova gave me a cottage. I kind of wish she hadn’t actually-”
“You were raised out with her home?” Belladonna cut in. Her ancient face fogged with confusion. “Nova didn’t teach you The Way?”
“The way to where?”
“You misunderstand. She means, The way of Whisper,” Leoracle explained.
“Seriously? People from this world need to be taught to whisper? That’s weird,” she noted with a bemused smirk. “Anyway, I grew up in an ambulance with my mum. Like I said, I never met her. So, clearly I’m not a witch.”
“Oh my dear child, there is no doubt in my mind. You are a witch. A good one, I shouldn’t wonder,” Belladonna insisted. She lifted the pipe to her lips again and puffed out more blue smoke. “For most magic is learned through years of exhaustive training and dedicated study. Even with all that effort, not all will pass the test to become a fully-fledged witch. But then there are the exceptional few; witches who are born with the very essence of magic flowing in their veins. This is especially true of those lucky enough to be gestated within an ancient bloodline.”
“You, Harmony Ryder, are of this lineage. You are sprung from her blood,” Leoracle purred. “You are The Chosen One, sent to this world to destroy the boundary. It is you who will defeat the tyranny of light and shadow. It is by your deed that the rightful queen shall be restored. In you I see The Champion of Whisper.”
“That's a lot of responsibility for a thirteen year old,” Harmony stated.
She was a little confused with all the names they were bestowing upon her. One minute she was just a witch and in the next they were proclaiming her to be a saviour. No, this didn’t feel right. Clearly the old woman and the lion were mistaken. The straw they clutched was obviously a crazy one. She cleared her throat and shifted forward in the seat. Their attention was hers.
“I’m not interested in going on an adventure. Thanks, but no thanks. I just want to go back to my own world.”
“Harmony, you are The Eve Child. Fate has brought you to free the people of Darkfern from domination. Please, you cannot abandon us,” Leoracle implored. His voice was distressed; Harmony felt it tug at her heartstrings.
“You really haven’t met her, have you?” Belladonna realised. She smiled as if suddenly bestowed with insight. “You don’t know how
important you are. Harmony, you are precious beyond measure. Your journey is the last signature of a long and significant story.”
A realisation dawned on Harmony. This wasn’t a choice, not really. No matter her will, neither the witch nor the lion was about to let her walk away from this destiny. Like it or lump it, for now, she had to play along. Harmony forced a smile across her mouth and perked up, feigning interest.
“I’m all-ears.”
“Nova was a great and benevolent ruler, adored by the entire Queendom. The adulation was deserved, under Nova’s protection all citizens lived in peace,” Belladonna began. “Unfortunately, she was not an only child. Nova has two sisters, Natura and Nocturna.
“Nova may have been the youngest but she was also the most powerful. More so than any other witch to lift a wand. Jealous of her gift, her sisters cast a powerful spell and cleaved the universe in two. On one side of the barrier magic exists, on the other all is mundaine.”
“But if Nova was a super-powerful witch then why was she on the wrong side of the spell?” Harmony queried.
“Technically, she wasn’t a witch at the time of activation,” Belladonna elaborated. “You see, Nova had a fondness for taking a mundaine-guise. She enjoyed the freedom, the anonymity of being fragile and faceless. It was during one of her holidays that Nocturna incanted The Rift.
“Why didn’t Nova use The Webway to get back?”
“No witch may travel The Path of Threads,” Leoracle replied, misty-eyed and sorrowful. “When Nocturna’s invocation took effect Nova’s mundaine-guise was destroyed. She became a witch again. It took her many years to locate The Webway. She made countless attempts to cross back, but each of them ended in failure. Nocturna had fooled us all. You see, The Rift prevents witches from crossing between worlds.”
“But I crossed?” Harmony pointed out. “Therefore I’m not a witch.”
“Perhaps not at the time…but you are now,” Leoracle commented.
“I can’t believe her own sister trapped her like that.”
“Natura and Nocturna sought power. With Nova exiled, they seized the throne and tore the Queendom asunder,” Leoracle continued. “They declared war on one another and forced a choice of alignment, light or dark, on every citizen. It has been that way for over nine hundred years.”