Chapter 24

24

Ella

I cleared away the pile of old socks that were draped over a chair, then sat, warily eying the tea. "Are you a witch?"

"Heavens, no." She laughed and poured a heavy-handed splash of brown liquor into her cup. "I don't have that kind of magic—not that I would turn my nose up if I came into the power."

There were plenty of fairy tales about witches, none of them good. The village priest had spoken of them as women possessed by demons, intent on corrupting the blood and minds of others. I hadn't ever believed a word of it, but my shoulders relaxed involuntarily.

Siggy offered the bottle to me, and I sniffed it. I scrunched up my nose at the pungent scent of whiskey but added it to the tea anyway. Whatever explanation was coming, I was going to need it. "I've never met anyone with magic before."

The old lady laughed. "You've probably met a handful—the immortals haven't been able to entirely breed it out of the human stock. You have it yourself, of course."

The cup stalled partway to my lips. "What are you talking about?"

But I knew, deep in the secret corners of my heart.

"Talked to any horses lately?" A broad grin spread across her face, and she leaned forward conspiratorially. "I guarantee no one else in the castle has."

I hadn't dared ask any of the other staff, afraid I'd sound like either a lunatic or a fool. So, how did she know?

I shook my head, not quite able to believe. "I thought that was part of the castle's magic. I'm not…I don't…I'm not special like that."

Siggy sighed and set down her tea. "They really did a number on you, didn't they, kid? Anyone with two eyes can see you're special."

I couldn't help but stare back at her single eye.

She gave me a foxlike grin. "Having one eye means that it has to see twice as much, and I see you, young Ella. I see you for what you are—a whisperer ."

The hair on my arms prickled. It felt like I was falling into her gaze, like it was burning away all the walls I'd built around myself, like she was seeing through me.

"What's a whisperer?" I asked softly.

"It's someone whose voice has power," she said as she stood. "More than most."

I took a drink of the bitter tea and coughed slightly, the alcohol stinging the back of my throat. When had I ever had power?

Siggy paced over to the fire and stirred the coals. "A witch's power comes from what they are—it comes from within. But your magic comes from who you are."

"I don't understand."

"A whisperer hears what others don't, listens when others won't, and speaks for those who can't. She gives when she has nothing left to give." She glanced back at me with a fierce expression. "And if I'm right about you, I bet you've never stopped giving."

I swallowed.

"Wild magic is all around us, waiting for someone with the strength to ask for help," she said. "And when a whisperer asks, the world will rise up and respond." The old woman plucked the half-drunk tea from my hands and deposited it in the kitchen. Then she headed to the door and waved her hands. "Come along. I'll show you what I mean."

I rose and followed her out in a daze.

"You've probably been using your magic for some time. Have you received aid from animals? You said horses talked to you."

I cleared my throat. "Well, not so much talked , but I thought I heard their voices in my mind…though that sounds crazy when I say it out loud."

"Well, of course they talk to you in your head. Otherwise, everyone else would hear—and I doubt they'd want that. What else?"

I blinked. "When I was in over my head, a bunch of dogs, birds, and horses helped me clean the stables."

She nodded. "Excellent."

"And a redstart led me here," I said, hesitating as other memories flickered to life. "Now that I think of it, a flock of crows protected me when one of the immortals attacked me in the woods. It was before I got to the castle, though…I didn't notice anything before that."

"Oh, I'm quite certain that was your magic," she said with confidence as if she'd seen it herself. "What about plants?"

"Plants?"

She sighed. "That's the problem with the way people are raised these days. Surrounded by an enchanted forest, and they think the only ones with souls are the animals. It's a very myopic worldview." Siggy gestured to a rosebush dotted with little buds. "It's been like this for too long. See if you can get it to blossom."

I raised my brows.

She waved me forward. "Pretend it's a bird or something you're used to talking to."

I knelt and drew in a big breath, then looked back at her. "I feel silly."

"Imagine how the flower feels. Get on with it."

I gave the rosebush a faint smile and tried to imagine it was Pip. "Hey, there, little bush. I bet you have beautiful flowers. I would love to see one, if you'd show me."

Nothing happened.

I looked back expectantly.

Siggy shooed me on. "You think you're going to get it on the first try? Keep going. Speak from the heart ."

I closed my eyes, trying to sense the flower in front of me. To feel its presence, just like it was a friend. "Don't hide what you are, little flower," I said, and brushed my fingers over the dark green leaves. "We know what you can be. Let the world see."

My fingers dropped away from the bush, and I stared at the bud. A melancholy weight settled on my shoulders, and I opened my lips to try again. But then the bud moved, bending upward at first, then to the right. The sepals rolled back, and before my eyes, the petals began to unfurl, each springing forth in a vibrant burst of pink. The flower bloomed, full and bright, and as beautiful as I'd ever seen.

"Well, that was a tad self-reflective, but it got the job done," Siggy muttered.

Others around it began to open as well. "It actually works…"

"Of course. The roses knew you wouldn't ask unless it were important."

I knelt there, staring at the glorious bouquet, my thoughts racing with the implications. "Do you think there are others like me? What about Belle? Is she a whisperer, too?"

Siggy shook her head. "I suspect there are others, and I'm certain your sister is special, but her gifts haven't emerged yet—not like yours."

I looked down at my hands. "Why is this happening to me now?"

She shrugged. "It might be because you started working in the castle. Magic flows freely there, while it's repressed throughout the rest of the Bloodvale by a powerful curse. I expect living at the castle gave your powers a chance to bloom, and now that you know how to tap into them, you can blossom beyond its walls—just like this flower."

A curse that repressed magic—that was similar to what Belle had told me.

"What kind of curse? Did the immortals create it?"

Siggy's expression darkened. "That's what I've been trying to figure out. The problem is, immortals cannot weave magic—it's not one of their gifts—so someone must have done it for them."

My mind raced back to my hurried conversation with Belle. "My sister heard a rumor that there are witches or mages imprisoned within a secret part of the castle, where no one but the royals ever go. Could they be responsible for the magical things in the castle?"

Her brow furrowed. "Perhaps. Did your sister say how she discovered this?"

I shook my head. "She overheard something. We didn't have much time together, but maybe I can find out."

"Be careful, Ella. This land has been cursed for centuries. There's probably a reason no one has discovered what's going on. You don't want to end up imprisoned—or worse."

"I understand."

If I could find a way to return magic to our land, our people might stand a chance. It was worth any risk.

Siggy glanced up at the sky. "Speaking of being careful, it's almost dusk. You'd better get going."

Her tone left the unspoken implication hanging in the air: and get back in one piece .

My stomach tightened, but not at the thought of my irate employers or the monsters dwelling in the woods. There was still so much I didn't understand about my gift, and who knew when I'd be able to sneak out again?

"I want to make a difference here," I said as I followed the old woman back inside. "I want to change this place so we don't have to live in fear. But I don't know where to begin. I'm not a witch. I can't fly or cast spells or curse the immortals. What good is speaking with animals and making flowers bloom?"

"Don't underestimate yourself." Siggy paused on the stairs. "Centuries ago, a group of witches and sorcerers tried to overthrow the immortals with magic and brute force—explosions and fireballs and whatnot. They failed ."

The Uprising.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" I asked softly.

She put her hand on my shoulder, her expression solemn. "Sometimes, a situation calls for someone who thinks building a better world is more important than killing their enemies. Someone who can make alliances. Someone who listens—not to their anger, but to their heart."

The sudden weight of responsibility pressed down on me. I hadn't been given this gift for play. I had a duty now that went beyond Belle or the resistance. Somehow, I had to find a way to change things for us all.

I just hoped I would be strong enough.