Vinderin | Teen Ink

Vinderin

July 16, 2021
By vitobarquero, San José, Other
More by this author
vitobarquero, San José, Other
0 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Author's note:

I wanted to write a short fantasy story where only the antagonist had magic, therefore adding more challenges to the protagonists. I also wanted to add a real-life social issue, but I did not want to get too political or deep, so I went with some sugarcoated animal cruelty. I hope that by reading this short story, readers will be hooked by the fantasy and mystery while also finding a space to reflect.

The day everything went wrong, I started my morning chasing a pig. My brother Caspian had decided it was a good idea to wake me up before sunrise and tell me I had left the barn open, and one of the pigs had run off into the woods. I had grumpily dragged myself out of bed and changed in a hurry, trotting out of the house as the sun began to show its face.

Now both of us were sprinting across the mossy green woods that rested peacefully on the borders of Vinderin, our hometown. Another day, I would have admired the beauty of the trees and flowers, but right now I was too busy trying to catch a pig before any wild animal decided it wanted bacon for breakfast.  I was already panting, yet I couldn’t help but laugh at our situation. Two kids chasing a pig at sunrise? Hilarious.

I didn’t know where Caspian was at the moment, but I was getting closer to the little four-legged fugitive. The pig reached a bundle of thorny bushes, too tall to jump over and too long to run around. It turned around and began to race toward me. I had it.

The pig rammed into me, knocking me to the side and almost making me eat dirt.

I heard Caspian laughing behind me. I rose, spat on the ground, and saw him kneeling before the pig, feeding it a carrot. “It’s not fair,” I told him. “You always end up being the hero.”

“Relax, Joel, you’re ten! Your time will come.” He laughed again and began guiding the pig home. His answer made me frown and wrinkle my nose, but I knew he was right. Caspian was six years older than me, and therefore had more experience in everything that had to do with life. He was the one to help Mom handle the animals in the barn, the one who went with Dad to the market, the one who helped both our parents cook dinner. Meanwhile, I was in charge of making sure none of the animals got bored. And of closing the barn at night, which I’d failed just yesterday. I didn’t want to wait until I was older. I could’ve caught that pig if Caspian hadn’t made it go carrot-crazy!

We took the pig back to the barn, and this time I made sure to close it. The sun was out now, and the first early risers were already striding across the cobblestone roads of Vinderin, making their way to their farms or shops or whatever business they owned. I waved hello to the neighbors I knew, and they returned a warm smile. Caspian and I went back to our little house, where Mom and Dad awaited with a huge delicious breakfast. I buttered three pieces of toast, devoured two eggs, had half an apple, and gulped down  two glasses of orange juice before Mom had the chance to feed us the news: a merchant had come to town and was going to give the townpeople a sneak peek of whatever he’d brought. Naturally, we were all going to the demonstration. I wasn’t very thrilled about watching an old merchant show off his gadgets; I preferred to stay home playing with Caspian, but no one at home denied Mom’s word.

At midday, we were at the town square in the middle of a chattering crowd, waiting for the merchant to sort out the things inside his caravan.. He stood on a small wooden step so everyone could see him. He was dressed in strange colors like a peacock, but what struck me most was that, despite the blazing sun overhead, he had a scarf covering his nose and mouth, and a straw hat lowered over his eyes. Probably his style or something.

“Who do you think he is?” I asked my brother.

Caspian snorted. “Probably another silly tinkerer.”

The merchant pulled a blue-and-yellow macaw out of his caravan, but with his back turned and with the caravan’s drapes and curtains, I was the only person small enough to see it happen. The macaw flapped its wings rapidly, like a panic attack, and cawed loudly. The merchant smacked the bird’s head to silence it, and I almost cried because of the cruelty, but once again I was the only one to notice. Suddenly I was more wary of the merchant. As the macaw perched on his shoulder, it looked around everywhere in astonishment. For a moment, its eyes settled on me, and as we stared at each other, I felt a connection, like it was pleading.

The merchant took out a dusty black book and finally spoke. “Lovely town of Vinderin!” he said with a hoarse voice. “I am honored to be here. I have travelled from far away and prepared this presentation specifically for you! I bring you…” he spread out his arms dramatically, “a magic show!”

The crowd stirred and murmured, but it sounded worried rather than thrilled. “A magic show? Again?” some were saying. Mom and Dad froze.

The merchant opened his book and read aloud, but I couldn’t register anything he said, as if he was speaking in another language. The words weren’t strange to me, but their order was completely bananas, like, “Sky past disease smashers me trapped girlfriend exile show curse!” As he kept reading, he removed his scarf and hat to reveal a tired middle-aged man with a shaggy mustache. Some people gasped.

“Is that—?” Dad began to say.

Mom finished his sentence. “Quentin?”

I looked at them. Their eyes were wide and their jaws had dropped. All color was gone from their faces. In all my life, I had never seen them frightened, but now their expressions made my skin shiver.

“What’s wrong?” Caspian asked them.

Mom said, “Kids—,” but before she could say anything else, a column of green energy erupted around the merchant. People screamed, ran, kicked and cried like they’d just seen a loose tiger. Clouds appeared out of thin air and engulfed the sun. The sky changed from dark green to purple to black to navy blue. Mighty winds cut through the maddening crowd, and they almost lifted me from the ground.

“Back home! NOW!” Dad roared to be heard over the wind and shouts. Along with the rest of the town, we rushed back home as the merchant finished reading and cackled louder than the storm he’d brought in.

In a silence thickened with fear, I sat with my family at the table for dinner. My plate was miserable; it had been like this for the past three days, ever since the mysterious man called Quentin had disguised himself as a merchant and cast a fearsome curse upon Vinderin. For reasons I didn’t understand, now our food was limited, and the only thing I could have for dinner tonight was a sad piece of fish tail, and a plain glass of water.

After we’d fled the town square, the storm had stopped abruptly once Quentin had finished reading from his book. The winds had ceased and the sky had returned to normal, yet something was odd. We had all felt it: an overwhelming sensation of being trapped, of becoming prisoners. Then the animals had started crying. Quentin had magically created himself an ominous, almost intimidating mansion in the town square, right beside a hill that led to the woods, not so far from our own house.

Caspian broke the silence. “So no one has escaped town?”

“They can’t,” Dad said. “As part of his curse, Quentin created an army of monsters. He calls them smashers. Some of them guard his mansion, but most are positioned around the town’s perimeter and just outside the woods. If someone tries to escape, they’ll…” He didn’t seem inclined to finish the thought.

“Smash,” I offered. I shivered just at the idea. “So what does the curse do? I don’t get it. Most of our day is the same, except with less food and sadder animals.”

Dad sighed. “All the animals of Vinderin are sick, and all crops are dying. We have to ration our food because there’s nowhere to get more.”

“Can’t we buy some from somewhere else? Another town?”

“The smashers won’t let anything in or out of Vinderin unless it goes directly to Quentin’s mansion.”

“What does he even want with this town?” Caspian blurted out. I could almost feel the frustration in his voice. “Why is he doing this? What good does he gain from it? Does he enjoy being a king amongst commonfolk?”

“He said he’d prepared this specifically for us,” I remembered.

Caspian nodded. “He wanted to curse Vinderin, of all places.”

I looked at Mom, who’d been awfully silent and was exchanging a worried glance with Dad. I asked them, “How did you know his name? You know him, don’t you?”

Silence struck the dining room again. These past three days I’d met a part of my parents I’d never seen before. A weaker part. My mom, usually headstrong, outspoken and certain, now always carried a look of alert, like a rabbit afraid it would be ambushed any second. The firm and fearless man that was my dad had also been replaced with a scared and quiet version of himself. Their eyes were darker, and their faces grimmer. Yet when I asked the question, their expressions were of doubt instead. They didn’t doubt what they knew, I guessed; they wondered whether they should tell us. They stared at each other, expecting the other to speak to no avail.

Finally, Mom said, “We knew him from long ago. He used to live here, but he moved out twenty years ago, and we hadn’t heard from him since.” Dad nodded in confirmation.

I jumped a bit at learning Quentin had lived here, but I pretended it didn’t surprise me. It was my turn to exchange a look with Caspian. We silently agreed there was more to the story they were keeping from us.

Mom and Dad sent us to bed right afterward. Caspian and I shared a bedroom. Even though both of us had expressed our discontent a couple times in the past, we enjoyed each other’s company. Being alone in the dark made me sweat, so I enjoyed having a living presence nearby at night—especially now, when I was sure I would wet my pajamas if I saw a smasher out the window. Our bedroom was nice and cozy, with our two beds being only a few feet apart, and a small window in the side wall. I had a box of toys beside my bed, while my brother had stacks of papers and jars of ink on a small desk where he’d sometimes sit and draw. We were also close to the kitchen, which meant we could sneak out at midnight and stuff ourselves with cookies whenever our bellies commanded.

I had just brushed my teeth and was about to fall asleep when I heard Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen. Suddenly filled with mischievous intrigue, I tiptoed to my bedroom door and pressed my ear against it.

I heard Mom say, “Eugene, we can’t live like this for much longer. Quentin is insane!”

“I didn’t think we’d be seeing him again,” Dad said.

Caspian came out of our bathroom and gave me one of those looks that made me want to hit him. “Joel, what are you doing?”

“Shhh!” I told him to come close with a hand gesture, and he followed my example, pressing his ear against the door.

“Caspian asked a fair question,” Dad was saying. “What does Quentin want? What’s his goal?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mom’s voice was hopeless. “He wants to starve everyone to death. He’s here for revenge.

“Revenge after twenty years? He’s mad!”

“How can we keep up like this?”

They were quiet for a moment. Then Dad spoke with a voice so low it barely reached my ear. “Maybe we won’t have to, Kate.”

“What do you mean?”

“A mob of rebels is assembling tomorrow to storm Quentin’s home.  He’s placed most smashers in the town’s borders, but very few guard his mansion. Around midday, we’ll go in and force him to let us free.”

We? You’re going, too? Eugene, you’re madder than Quentin! Even without the smashers he has magic, for crying out loud!”

“Do you have a better idea?”

They didn’t speak again, only rose from the table and went to their room. In the moonlight pouring from the window, I saw Caspian’s concentrated face as he focused on what we’d just heard, possibly weighing in the probabilities of the mob being successful. He noticed me staring, and put a hand on my shoulder in a lame attempt to convince me that everything would be alright. We went to bed, and even though no word was spoken, I was sure we were thinking the same thing: we were worried about Dad and the mob.

We didn’t know at what time the mob would assemble. Even if we did, Dad would forbid us from getting near, probably locking us up in our room if he had to, so the next day Caspian and I acted as if life was completely back to normal. Our neighbor asked us to give his cow a checkup, so we attended to her. I don’t like to brag, but I’m kind of an expert on animals thanks to our barn. Caspian is alright too, I guess.

Still, we didn’t know what ailed this cow, or any of the others in Vinderin, who had fallen into horrible sickness because of Quentin’s curse. The cow was barely awake, like gravity pulled her eyelids shut. Her tongue had acquired a green-tinged purple color, and the few drops of milk she produced were a gooey brown.  Her whole body was hot with fever, and she could not find the strength to stand up.

The animals in our barn were in equally bad shape. None of them played with me anymore, and they could barely eat. Even the pig we had recently chased in the woods, who had been a barrel full of energy, was now barely clinging to life. No expert could cure them. Every night, a few tears escaped my eyes thinking about them.

“Why the animals?” I asked, mostly thinking to myself. “If Quentin wants revenge against this town and wants everyone dead, as Mom says, why not just kill everyone quickly?”

Caspian shrugged. “Maybe it’s some form of torture?”

We told our neighbor we had no idea what was wrong with his cow and suggested he called a doctor, although we knew it was hopeless. We left his barn and were about to make our way back home when a loud caw and nearby flapping made us look up.

Circling above us was a bird the size of a child’s stool, not even three feet long. Its yellow wings and tail were spread out like sunrays, and it had an equally bright belly of the same color. Looking closer and blocking the sun with my hand, I realized only its underside was yellow. Its back and the other side of its wings were ocean blue and difficult to make out from the sky above. I had seen that bird. It was Quentin’s macaw.

It zoomed down faster than sound and landed in front of our feet, innocently looking up at us. It opened its beak, but instead of cawing, it spoke in a high pitched voice. “Hey there! Please listen to me!”

Caspian yelped, and I just blurted out, “IT TALKS?”

The macaw looked like it was dancing, but it probably just nodded. “Yes. She talks, thank you very much.” I never thought I could feel guilty about misgendering a bird. “My name’s Aly. Pleasure.”

“You’re Quentin’s bird,” I said.

“Not by choice. Now, if you would be so kind, please listen to me.”

I looked at Caspian. We were still baffled by the macaw, but knowing what Quentin was capable of, Aly’s ability of speech didn’t seem so unbelievable. She looked nice enough, if a little pushy, but she was still our captor’s bird. Anything related to Quentin was probably not good news.

Apparently, Caspian decided there was no danger in talking. “What is it?”

Aly (somehow) cleared her throat, and then said, “Quentin dislikes your family the most. He’s had a grudge with you ever since he was banished.”

I interrupted, “Wait, wait… banished?”

The macaw ignored me. “But listen: there is a way to save Vinderin. If you follow my lead, you can revert everything Quentin has done.”

My brother’s eyes widened as we exchanged another look. It was an inviting opportunity, not to mention a chance to be heroic, but Caspian still didn’t seem convinced. “Why should we trust you? You’re Quentin’s pet, after all.”

I knew he’d hit a delicate spot, or delicate feather. Aly looked at the ground like a defeated soldier, her eyes slightly closed. She whispered, “You’re not the only ones suffering because of him. Four years ago, he captured me in a forest and gave me the ability to speak, but in return wrapped me in a magical leash and tore me from my family. I’ve been forced to be his pet ever since. This is about as far as I can physically get from him. So you can see why I want him to go down as much as you do.”

I remembered how Quentin had hit her when they’d arrived. Then I imagined myself in her situation. Not seeing Mom, Dad and Caspian for four years… I could not bear it. If anyone so much as touched them I would lose it, not to mention take them away from me. And if Quentin truly had a grudge against my family… I felt like I was about to crumble to dust.

I started, “So how—”

I shut my mouth when I saw, just up the street, a bundle of men and women coming together with sticks and kitchen knives. Not one of them carried a smile on their face. Some chatted and whispered to each other in alarm and urgency while others seemed to be making a plan. The plotters pointed a couple blocks up the street, at Quentin’s mansion. Among them was Dad. It was the mob.

They began their march. Caspian and I decided to follow them from a distance to spy. We began sneaking close as Aly flew low beside us, but the mob had only taken a few steps when they started dispersing and screaming.

“Hide!” Aly warned us. We rushed behind a cart of carrots, our heartbeats fast and audible, and took a peek above the vegetables.

Quentin stood before the panicking crowd dressed in a fancy coat of wolf fur. Behind him were a dozen creatures, so hideous that I gagged. Dressed in steel armor, they were taller than any human resident of Vinderin. Their arms and legs were a giant iron-hard bulk of muscle, and their skin was gray, yet their face was the most horrendous part. They had tiny black eyes and a huge mouth from where two fangs stuck out like mountains and saliva dripped. Their nose was very similar to a pig’s snout, and a gooey solution of mucus and pus dripped from their nostrils. Each of them carried a mighty wooden club in their right hand.

“The smashers,” Caspian said.

The poor people barely had time to run before the creatures had encircled them. A woman hurled a kitchen knife into a smasher’s shoulder, but the monster simply roared, snapped the knife in half, and seized the woman by the neck. The smashers swung their clubs from side to side and up and down, striking heads and ribs and stomachs as the mob crumbled to their knees, hopelessly fighting back. Dad tried to launch himself at Quentin, but a smasher intercepted the hit and in turn struck Dad’s head with its club, immediately sending him tumbling down. I wanted to cry at the sight of Dad knocked out and laying like an old sack. I wanted to move. I wanted to help or do something, but Caspian and I knew it was hopeless. One hit from those clubs and we’d be lucky if we remained conscious.

The smashers left as quickly as they’d come, but now they took the people with them. Every creature grabbed a handful of rebels and hurled them onto their shoulders as they made their way to Quentin’s mansion. Everyone around had confined themselves in their homes, some of them spying on the horrible action, but no one taking a stand.

Amidst the chaos, Quentin was smiling. He announced, “Aly, your free flight time is up!” and snapped his fingers.

“I have to go,” Aly said as she immediately zoomed to Quentin’s shoulder like she was dragged by an invisible arm.

Mom collapsed on a kitchen chair when we notified her that Quentin took Dad and the rest of the mob. She covered her face with her hands, rested her elbows on the table, and wept desperately. Caspian and I weren’t much better, either. As soon as Quentin and the smashers had disappeared, we’d rushed back home, tears flying against the wind as we still tried to grasp what had happened. We hadn’t had time to properly cry, but now, seeing Mom heartbroken and weak, tears gushed out. Dad was gone. Who knew where Quentin had taken him and the others.

“We should’ve helped,” I said between sobs.

“No,” Mom said. “They would’ve taken you too. I told your father it was a stupid idea, but he failed to listen.”

Caspian caressed Mom’s back as he cried silently. His eyes were lost, like he still wasn’t believing what he’d seen.

A tapping on the kitchen window caught our attention. I turned and saw a blue-and-yellow macaw pecking on the glass. “Aly?” I said as I swung open the shutters.

“Hello again,” the bird said in her high-pitched voice. “I’m sorry our conversation had to end so abruptly back there. Oh, and, I’m sorry they took your dad.” She managed to say that last part softly, unlike any other time she spoke.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Quentin has a dungeon beneath his mansion. He’s locked up all the protesters there. No one is severely injured.”

Mom and Caspian had joined me beside the window. We introduced Mom and Aly, and the bird briefly explained how she’d become acquainted with Quentin and later kidnapped.

“Why have you come?” Caspian asked.

“I don’t have much time before Quentin notices I’m gone, but as I told you before, there is a way to save Vinderin. You can rescue your dad.”

I shared a glance with my family. A small glint of hope, like stardust, twinkled in our eyes. I turned back to Aly. “How?”

“With that book Quentin has, the one he used to curse the town in the first place. It contains a reversing spell. It’s one of the simplest, so even someone without magic can cast it. All they’d have to do is read it out loud.”

“So why haven’t you done it?” Caspian asked.

“Do you think birds can read?

“Right, sorry.”

“So basically,” I cut in, “we should steal that book, read that spell, and every spell Quentin has cast will be undone?”

“You got it.”

I let myself smile. After several dark days, this was the first time I had a good reason to. No more sick animals, no more smashers, no more dads in jail… I saw our lives back to normal. Without Quentin. Without his horrible mansion tainting the town’s architecture. I saw hope, and so did my mother and brother.

Then I remembered something, and I looked at Aly. “But you…”

She nodded. “I’ll lose my ability to speak. But that’s okay, really. I’ll be able to go look for my family again. Our home isn’t far from here, and I won’t need human speech to talk to them.”

“But hang on,” Caspian said, “time out. Nice plan and all, but how could we ever grab Quentin’s book? He has it, it’s inside his mansion, and the last group of people who tried to storm in are now locked up in some dungeon.”

“How do you think Quentin left his mansion without the mob noticing?” Aly said. “Along with the mansion, Quentin created a secret tunnel that goes from his library to the woods beside the town. No smashers guard it, and since Quentin is too self-confident, the only smashers inside the mansion are the ones guarding the dungeon. It’ll be safe.”

Caspian and I looked at each other, but we’d already made up our minds. If this was the only chance we had, we’d take it, safe or not. We turned to Mom, who looked about to be sick. She’d just lost Dad; obviously she wasn’t keen to sneak inside Quentin’s mansion, much less with her two children. Yet she said, “There’s no other option. We have to do this.”

I smiled. “Anything else?” I asked Aly.

“Yes. Since the mansion was created with Quentin’s magic, it’ll collapse once you read the spell, so you have to cast it outside and make sure everyone in the dungeons has escaped. We’ll also need a distraction to make sure Quentin and the smashers stay away from the library and the dungeons.”

“I’ll do it,” Mom blurted out. “I’ll create a diversion.”

Caspian and I looked at her wide-eyed. “Are you sure?” I asked. “How?”

She had her chin up. “I know what to do.”

“Good,” Aly concluded. “I have my free flight at five. I’ll come guide you to the tunnel.”

With that, she flew back to the mansion, and we were left with the hope of a life without Quentin, but also with the lingering dread of failure.

At five, Caspian and I met with Aly in the woods as instructed. As Aly guided us to the tunnel, the sunlight cut by the canopy cast aggressive shadows all around us in monstrous shapes. Yet dozens of flowers, berry bushes, and tree branches were bathed in golden light. Small animals trotted and jumped around the grass, unconcerned for the trapped town. Only four days ago I’d been chasing a pig here, but it felt like an eternity had passed. An eternity tainted with Quentin’s dark tyranny.

Hopefully, that tyranny would end today. And if the plan worked, I hoped no one would get hurt in the process. As we’d left the house, Mom promised us she’d be fine, but my heart was still beating like crazy with concern. I still didn’t know what her strategy for a distraction would be.

“We’re here,” Aly announced as she removed vines and leaves from the side of a hill, revealing what we sought.

In front of us, a circular tunnel, roughly as high as Caspian, stretched open like a lion’s gaping mouth. It was dimly illuminated by floating lights (no doubt products of Quentin’s magic) and moist with the air’s dampness. My stomach twisted as I saw no end.

“I’ll meet you on the other side,” Aly said, and took flight.

I went in first, Caspian close behind me. The ground was loose soil, and sometimes I splashed my shoe with mud when I stepped on a wet spot. I prayed the whole thing wouldn’t come crashing down. At times, the tunnel got so low that we had to crouch and crawl. After about ten minutes, when I was starting to think the tunnel had no end, we saw light pouring in.

We found ourselves in front of a circular grated door, and on the other side I saw a bright room with a large wooden desk and chair, some quills and ink, and several bookshelves against the walls. It was Quentin’s library, as Aly had said, and the mansion was built right against a hill to allow for a secret tunnel.

Aly was inside, perched atop a bookshelf. She waved a wing at us. “Come in. It’s safe.”

The door swung open silently. I stepped into the library and, with a sigh, admired the place. As much as I hated Quentin, he definitely had taste. The room was eye candy: lit by a warm, cozy lamp and adorned with paintings above the bookshelves on each wall. The shelves were dark wood, embroidered with gold on the edges, and the books were organized by size and the color of their covers.  There were hundreds of them, which I soon realized was a problem: which one was Quentin’s book of spells?

Caspian whistled, taking in the library. “Now what?”

Aly flew down to my shoulder. “Quentin and the smashers are at the entrance. Whatever your mother did, it’s working, but we can’t know for how long. Break free the prisoners and guide them outside. We’ll find the book.”

Caspian nodded. We looked at each other’s eyes, and a knot tied in my throat. Dad had already been imprisoned, and who knew what trouble Mom was getting herself into to buy our time, but losing Caspian was an unbearable thought. It couldn’t even cross my mind; it was like imagining a day where the sun didn’t rise. I embraced my brother, my face pressed against his ribcage. He shuffled my hair and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. You be safe.”

I let go of him and hid my sob with coughing. “You too.”

Aly gave him directions, and Caspian disappeared into the hallway beyond the library.

“So?”

“So now we look for the book,” Aly cawed. “I didn’t see where he kept it, but we only have to look among the black tomes.”

We sprang into action, or rather, I did while Aly hurried me, since birds can’t exactly pick up books. Every shelf housed a number of books with black covers, but as I gazed through them I failed to find one about spells. I found some about strange plants and about animals, but the dusty tome I’d seen Quentin read from days ago remained hidden.

I had two shelves left when sound crept from the hallway, followed by heavy footsteps and Quentin’s voice.

“To the tunnel!” Aly ordered as she perched back on a shelf.

I swung open the grated door and crawled into the hole I’d come from. With eyes still on the bookshelves, I crawled back into the shadows to remain unseen. Then Quentin stepped into the library, followed by seven smashers. The two in front held my mother by the arms.

“So after days you finally decide to show up, Katherina,” Quentin began with his back to her, “and you say you want to have a word with me.”

“Indeed,” Mom said.

Quentin faced her. “I’m not letting your husband out. Don’t think you have some kind of influence just because we dated years ago.”

The gasp I let out almost gave away my hiding spot. I felt my stomach drop and my head spin. Mom and Quentin? I felt like vomiting from just imagining it. Mom had appeared disturbed ever since his arrival, but I hadn’t expected that. I was glad they hadn’t ended up together, or I could’ve turned out really ugly.

Quentin slowly shook his head. “And now I see you married one of the men who was key in exiling me.”

Mom’s face was unchanging like stone. “Don’t bring our past into this. Let my husband go. Let all of us go. This is madness Quentin! The whole town is decaying!”

“Madness?” His face had turned red like fire. “Is it madness to teach a lesson to the town that exiled me for a magic show?”

“That was twenty years ago! And you harmed animals!”

“For the entertainment of people!”

“It was cruel!”

Quentin stormed to one of the shelves I still hadn’t checked. From the black section, he withdrew the same dusty book he’d used to imprison Vinderin. He flipped it open, carelessly scanning across the pages, until he walked back in front of Mom. “You’re not the woman I knew. You’re here wasting my time, asking me to release a man I hate, a town I hate. You’re mad animals suffered? Then I guess it’s time you learn what suffering truly means.”

My face felt like fire. I balled my fists and considered storming back in and tackling Quentin. Luckily, Mom burst out laughing before I could ruin the plan. “Magic?” she said. “That’s what you hide behind now? Come on, Quentin. Be a man.”

In a furious flash, Quentin shut the book and threw it at his desk. “You want your husband back? Fine. I’ll take you to him.” He signaled the smashers to follow him, and they all strode out, escorting Mom to the dungeons.

Suddenly everything made sense. The town’s dislike of magic shows, Quentin’s hatred toward Vinderin, his connection to my family, his choice to make all animals sick… He’d been exiled for harming animals in a show, and Mom had dumped him for it. He’d felt betrayed by his town and people, and revenge had consumed him.

Certain they had left, I stepped into the library again, and Aly immediately flew to Quentin’s desk and pecked at the book. “This is it!” she cawed excitedly. “We got it, now let’s go outside.”

“They’re heading for the dungeons! Caspian is there, and the rebels already lost once against smashers!”

“There were more smashers when they were captured, and our side has the element of surprise now. Besides, those monsters are much clumsier in closed spaces. Our only hope is to go outside, wait for them, and cast the spell.”

I nodded. Taking the tunnel would take too long, so Aly guided me to the mansion’s main entrance. We rushed through gold-spangled rooms and halls with tall ceilings. With the smashers escorting Mom, there was no one to stop us as we exited through the huge oak doors and ran down the entrance stairs into the town square, my face kissed by the setting sun’s light.

The townspeople murmured and gasped, no wonder for seeing a kid rush out of our imprisoner’s stronghold. The roaring of a brawl called my ear, and I saw, through the mansion’s windows, my family escaping along with the rest of the rebels. They fought smashers and Quentin himself on their way out, but as Aly said, the beasts were sloppy in a small hallway, and Quentin was useless without his book. Caspian whacked smashers with a broom, Dad stole one of their clubs and struck with it, and Mom had found herself a pitchfork. Slowly, they pushed back and got closer to the exit.

“Start the spell,” Aly said, “or Quentin will come and take the book.”

It felt unsafe with everyone still inside, but she was right. I sat on the ground, opened the book and, with Aly’s help, found the reversion spell. I began chanting. The words were easy to read and impossible to mispronounce, even though they made no sense together. At times I had to replace an instruction with Quentin’s name, but other than that it was easy to follow.

From the corner of my eye, I saw two smashers approach. Aly flew to them and circled their heads, taunting them. They swung their clubs up at her, but she gained altitude and made them miss. Sometimes they whacked each other instead.

I was halfway through the spell. I stole a quick glance and noticed most of the mansion’s smashers were no longer standing. Quentin still blocked most of the rebels’ path, but Mom grabbed a nearby flower pot and, with a lioness’s stealth, swung it down at Quentin’s head. He dropped to the floor, and the rebels rushed out the mansion.

One smasher grew tired of Aly and approached me instead. I couldn’t move my eyes away from the book as it stood beside me. It raised its wooden club, ready to whack me. It swung down.

But I finished the spell.

The smasher vanished into thin air before it struck me. Then the one fighting Aly also disappeared. Soon I heard animals grow loud again, and the sunlight felt warmer. Vegetation grew with more vivid colors, and Vinderin seemed to breathe again. We had done it. I had done it!

My parents and brother rushed to hug me, but the moment was rudely interrupted by the sound of shaking coming from the mansion. Some wooden planks began to fall. The stone staircase in the entrance cracked. Through a window, I saw Quentin, the only one left inside, get up while holding his head in pain. His expression soon turned to fear, and he screamed as the entire mansion collapsed on top of him like a cascade of wood and metal.

The entire town cheered and clapped. The air was of rejoice. I saw the neighbor’s cow we had seen just hours earlier, and she seemed completely healthy now. My family embraced me, and tears streamed down my eyes as I realized we were free. We were alive.

Caspian grabbed my shoulders. “Joel, you’re a hero!” I felt a light in my chest when I heard that.

Mom kissed my head, and then said, “Kids, I should explain everything…”

“I know, Mom,” I said. “I heard everything.”

Caspian looked confused. “Well I didn’t, so please elaborate.”

I laughed, and then a bird’s caw boomed from above. A blue-and-yellow macaw descended, perching herself on my outstretched arm. “Aly, we did it!”

Aly cawed, “Happy! Happy!” but she sounded like a regular macaw now, vaguely imitating human words. I had forgotten; the spell had made her lose her speech. My eyes stung.

I caressed her small head, and she pressed it against my forehead. “Thank you, Aly. You can find your family now!”

Another caw. “Family!”

I moved my face away, and a tear streaked my cheek. “Goodbye, Aly. And good luck.”

Aly took one last look at the cows, pigs, and other animals recovering and giving cries of joy as the town regained its peaceful air. She waved a wing at me, then at my family, and took flight. I watched with my family as the free bird soared into the sunset. “We’re all free now,” I said.



Similar books


JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 0 comments.