The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) (19 page)

Michael pushed his cardboard screen to the side, then stood to stretch. “Lucia is a powerful mage. She uses magic to help her teammates.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t get away from magic, can I?”

He shrugged. “They voted and thought this character would suit you. I don’t make the rules. I just operate under them.”

“Here’s your spells,” Merry said, handing me index cards. “You have three to start: Light, Telekinesis, and Protective Bubble.”

“What am I supposed to do with these?”

Merry’s eyes sparkled. “Whatever you want to do.”

We played the game for several hours. I was lost at first, but soon got the hang of it. Ruth Anne’s ranger led us through a labyrinth towards a castle, where we were assaulted by ugly creatures with big eyes and distended stomachs.

Eve complained all the while, still refusing to use her spells because she needed them for her celebratory performance in the village square afterwards. To her credit, she did bonk several creatures on their heads with her microphone, despite Ruth Anne’s declaration that there were no such devices in this time period. At this, Eve argued that there also no such things as goblins, either.

By the time we reached the center of the labyrinth, and the evil queen who held the wise man captive, Eve and I were both caught up in the story.

“As you enter the chamber, you are struck by the image of the regal queen sitting atop her throne. She regards you with clinical amusement.” Michael showed us a picture of a platinum-haired woman swathed in gold feathers, with eyes the color of stars. Her features were symmetrically perfect, but there was an air of wickedness in the arch of her brows and thrust of her chin.

“She’s too beautiful to kill,” Eve said reverently.

“She’s a kidnapper,” Ruth Anne grinned, cocking her imaginary bow. “She needs to die. I ready my weapon.”

“Wait, Ruth Anne.” Merry stopped her. “She’s a sorceress. Do you really think it will be that easy?”

“Dunno. But I’m gonna try.”

“Go ahead,” Michael said, handing her a large lopsided dice, a smile rooting at the corners of his mouth.

“I approach the queen with my bow raised. ‘I have come for the wise man. Give him to me now, or die by my arrow!’”

Our heads flipped towards Michael, who played the role of the queen. He stood, pointing an accusing finger at Ruth Anne. “Do you think I will let my prize go? No! He will be my new oracle. Now leave!” Michael lowered his hands and two dice tumbled from his palms, bouncing across the table.

We leaned forward, inspecting the numbers.

“It’s a critical!” Ruth Anne groaned, swallowing hard. “Am I dead?”

 
“No. But your bow melts in your hands.”

“Crap! Does it burn?”

He rolled another set of dice. “Take two points of fire damage.”

“Crap again! I haven’t rolled yet.”

“Is there anything else you can do?” Michael asked.

“I’m going to draw my short sword and charge.”

“Wait!” Eve interrupted, her eyes scanning her character sheet. “I have a song for this! It’s called Really Friends!”

“That’s
Rally
Friends,” Ruth Anne corrected.

“Oh. Whatever. It gives everyone a better chance to hit their targets and to avoid being hit. But I need to sing while you fight.”

“Now she sings,” Ruth Anne said, dropping her head onto the table.

“Remember, as long as you’re singing, you can’t do anything else,” Merry added.

“So, not much changes,” Ruth Anne snickered, her head still down.

Merry put her hands up. “Eve, please use your spell. I’m sure it will be helpful. Ruth Anne, ready your sword.”

Eve folded her hands, cleared her throat, then sang an actual song. It was something about being brave and not fearing the goblins or the mist. It was mesmerizing, yet frightening. We drew in, swept up in Eve’s haunting melody, all of us momentarily forgetting about the game. When she finished, we clapped. “That’s all I can do,” she said, bowing dramatically. “If you get your asses kicked now, it’s your own faults.”

Ruth Anne lifted a sharpened pencil. “Bolstered by the bard’s song, the ranger charges in! Be gone Foul Queen!”

She swung her pencil like a sword.

Michael rolled again. “The queen reaches to her left, and with an evil smile, pushes a button on her throne. The floor before her opens up. Ruth Anne, make a nimbleness check.”

“Ah, crap! All failures. How?”

Our gazes promptly returned to Michael. “You fall forward, stumbling into the hole. You hear things down below. The howls and growls of what sounds like a terrible monster.”

“Yikes!”

“But because of the bard’s rally spell, you manage to catch the side of the pit and you dangle precariously. The queen laughs. Lightning fills the room. What do you girls do?”

“I give the ranger my hand,” Merry says. “I’ll try to pull her up.”

“You manage to catch her hand, but the queen’s eyes fall on you.”

“Maggie,” Merry whispered. “It’s up to you. Do something.”

“Do what? I have light, telekinesis, and bubble wrap! What can I... Oh! I cast a Bubble shield around myself. I’m standing near the priest and the ranger so it should cover them, too.”

Michael narrowed his eyes and performed the mental calculations. “If you stay close, it should help. It won’t save them from falling damage, though. The ranger is still dangling.”

“Oh, I’ll pull her up,” Merry said with determination. “Come on Ruth Anne, help me help you!”

“I’m trying! But I have unusually stubby legs!”

“I haven’t stopped singing,” Eve announced. “Don’t forget the bonus they get from that.”

“Got that calculated,” Michael said, flipping through a book. “The queen hears the bard song and sees the bubble shield. She’s angry. She rises slowly from her throne. Her feet are mere inches from the pit. It’s not the ranger she’s after. She cocks one eyebrow and raises a slim finger at the mage. Blue sparks shoot from her hand and grow into long electrical charges.”

My heart quickened. “My bubble will absorb it, right?”

Michael shrugged. “We’ll find out.”

I chewed on my lip, considering my next move. If I cast another spell, it would break my concentration and the bubble would break. But if the queen went after me, the bubble would also break.

Michael rolled the dice. “You took too long, Mags. The queen unleashes a bolt of blue lightning. It hits the bubble, shattering it. The sorceress raises her arms to shoot another bolt.”

Merry looked at me encouragingly. I had no weapon, no offensive magick at all. Just my wits. “Alright,” I said. “I cast my Light spell into her eyes.”

“Good idea!” Ruth Anne whooped.

“Did the light spell hit?” I asked anxiously.

“Yes.” Michael nodded. “But after only a moment of blindness, the queen laughs, tossing back her head. She reveals a long golden scepter from beneath her cape, directing her anger at the mage once again. ‘Prepare to meet your maker.’”

I had just one spell left, and three subdued sisters. The party was about to end. I stood and locked eyes with Michael, picking up the dice. “I focus on the throne behind the queen, willing it with my telekinetic powers to ram into the back of her legs. Return to the Netherworld, Bitch!”

Merry’s mouth dropped and Ruth Anne grinned. Even Eve stopped singing.

Michael blinked as he deciphered what I was doing. “That throne is nailed to the floor. Roll the dice, Maggie. You’ll need a perfect 20.”

I imagined the number as I shook the die. I pushed away all other thoughts, except for that magick number. I didn’t look as it landed, but I knew. The collective ‘ooh’ from around the table confirmed it.

Michael shook his head. “The queen is struck by her own throne! Her crown tumbles off, falling to the floor. Her body flails as she tumbles into the pit, her fingers grasping for a ledge. But unlike the nimble ranger, she cannot hold. She falls into the deep chasm, to be devoured by the monster she herself created.”

“Woot!” Ruth Anne stood, holding up a hand for me to high-five. “Way to go, Mage... I mean, Mags.”

“My song helped!” Eve chimed in.

“Yes, it certainly did,” Merry agreed. “Now that the queen is gone, we can pull the ranger out of her hole.”

“Good,” Ruth Anne said, wiping her forehead. “Because I think that thing down there is looking for dessert.”

“With all three of you working at it, you quickly pull the ranger up,” Michael confirmed. “The pit seals up behind her.”

We cheered and traded stories, as if it had all really happened. Then we searched the queen’s chamber and divided up the loot, freeing the village wise man in the process. For good measure, I took the crown.

“See what happens when we all work together?” Merry smiled, though it bordered on a smirk. I then realized, the entire game was her idea.

“We are stronger together,” I admitted. “And the game was entertaining. Since we’ve sworn off magick in real life, this could be a fun substitute.”

“Uh, Mags” Eve pointed to the floor. “You may want to check this out.”

We all looked. Montana was still on his stomach, his arms stretched out towards his juice bottle that had rolled off to the side. With every clawing motion, the bottle rotated a tick in his direction. It happened so slowly it was nearly imperceptible, but within a minute the bottle was back in his hand.

He squealed as he flipped onto his side, suckling it like a baby goat.

“Ah, hell.”

“Seems you two got yourself a baby warlock,” Ruth Anne said.

I remembered Ruth Anne’s missing keys, and how our sled had sailed over the boulder, and the fistful of cat hair.

I fell back into my seat.

I couldn’t get rid of magick in my life. Not when it was cooing and giggling at my feet.

FIFTEEN

Travelin’ Man

 
“ARE YOU SURE?” I asked Merry. We stood on the front porch of Sister House. The sun was pleasantly warm and a soft breeze lifted the hem of her white skirt and fluttered her hair.

She stood motionless, her right index finger planted firmly into the dimple of her chin. She studied Montana, who was planted atop the porch swing in his carrier. The swing rocked gently, a movement initiated by a strong breeze and retained by my son’s enthusiasm. He grinned with each sweep of the pendulum, his face morphing between fear and exhilaration.

“I’ll be fine.” Merry finally answered. “I’ll miss you guys, but this is important. Besides, Harvest Home is your place now. Bona fide.” She smiled, though her head dipped a little.

We stared quietly at the shadows on the ground––mine long and lean, hers short and femininely rounded. Both shadows donned ponytails––one wild and reckless, the other sleek and tamed.

“My shadow used to be shorter than yours,” I remarked.

“I remember. Seems like yesterday. It all goes by too fast.” She sighed and I knew she wasn’t just referencing our time as kids. She was missing her daughter.

“Hear from June Bug lately?”

Merry’s blue eyes misted. She pressed her back into one of the pillars. “Frank’s calling today. Says it’s important we talk. Maggie, I hope he’s not trying to keep her.”