One day, Bella traveled to the unfashionable, low-rent side of the town to see the Wicked Witch of the West End, who lived across from the railroad tracks. In the Kingdom where Bella’s father was King, the ‘right’ side of the tracks was glistening, shiny, had workers up at 5 a.m. pruning, clearing, shining, and cleaning. On the other side he did…not.
The Witch, by tradition, lived on the dirty side, but did most of her shopping on the nicer side. This wasn’t socially acceptable, but YOU tell a Witch that.
They’d greeted each other socially in the local shops (even royalty sometimes run out of toothpaste, and the Queen was too thrifty to divert servants from her bath with menial daughters. “After all,” the Queen/Bella’s mother said, “someday this will all be yours. Nothing wrong with doing a little simple work for it.” And in sooth, Bella did not mind terribly.
Nevertheless, she was visiting the Witch unannounced, so she brought a bunch of pastries from Tripartite Star Bakery, out of which she’d seen the Witch coming many a time. She needn’t have bothered; the Witch admitted her with a real smile and no sharp teeth, implying the Witch had no desire to eat her. The Witch greeted her effusively–witches do tend to believe that royalty are almost as high on the social totem pole as they are, or at least, as they should be. As the tea was brewed and the pastries quietly consumed by both of them, Bella spilled out her troubles.
“A Love Spell, you say,” said the Witch, quietly.
“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Bella. “None of the Witches in town, not even the Court Magician would help, except drop a few hints and suggest that I oughtn’t do it. I figure they might all, Court Magician himself included, may also love Paul and meant to dissuade me. At least, they refused to teach me to do it.”
“Hmm,” said the Witch. “Because he is handsome?”
“Handsome? He’s a God!” At this, the Witch looked quickly up at her ceiling. It was of a metal intended to diffuse lightning blasts, but she wasn’t without a worry or two about it. Bella went on, “There is no sweeter, kinder, stronger, braver, handsomer boy in the Kingdom!”
“And this woman, Sydney, has him?”
“She’s not HALF as pretty as I!” said the Princess, as if this were the point of the conversation. Yet there he was every day, kissing her, kissing the children, going to his humdrum job to bring them their daily bread. It MUST have been a spell.”
The Witch did not respond; she merely nodded. She said, “But the other Witches did drop a hint or two, and you seem to have had access to the Castle’s library of Forbidden Books”. Bella snorted. “I picked that lock was four, just as I explored every room of the dungeon, half-walking, half-crawling. The Oubliettes were an education, believe-you-me.”
“So you assembled that Forbidden Knowledge and cast a True Love spell.”
“Of course! said Bella, in near-ecstasy. “For it IS true love.”
“So you cast a spell which wrestled with his mind, took control of his body, poisoned a piece of his heart, stole the rest, and now he waits on you hand and foot and has practically forgotten his wife and children, and won’t even look at them on the street.”
“Exactly! You get it!” said Bella.
“So why are you here?” asked the Witch.
“I can cast only the simplest spells. I want to learn real magic, and no-one will teach me. Even if all I learn is evil magic and curses. I want more!”
The old Witch smiled. “Mind control, body control, grief, abandoned children, and sorcerous treachery to a man who believes that his heart changed because you are his natural True Love.”
Her smile, this time, showed every one of her teeth, and dazedly, Bella wished it hadn’t.
“My darling, my daughter in Spirit, you’ve already cast some of the blackest Magick I know. That’s a mighty curse.”
Bella could feel her skin change, slow at first, then quick, in spots and then blotches and then all over her body. Her teeth, products of good food, good genetics, and the Kingdom’s only decent, began to resemble those of the Witch. Her nose grew longer and hooked; her body still stood, but it stood gnarled and strange.
“I’ll be glad to teach your sorcery,” she said. “Tell Paul to go back to his wife and children if he loves them; the rejection by his True Love might change him. Or he may spend the rest of his life resenting them and wanting you.”
“You cast, from books, a curse I’d be afraid to speak with the advice of an entire coven.”
The Witch again gave that deeply unsettling grin.
“You don’t get to go back and reach your old life. If they understood love spell, instead of reading fairy tales, they’d exile you. As it is, you can go visit. But you live here now. They MAY recognize you in your new shape. Don’t worry; you’ve made several bad mistakes, but we can help make them worse, much worse.”
She held out her arms, and wordlessly, Bella fell into the hug.
“You’re one of us now,” said the Witch. “Welcome, Sister.”
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– Jeff Mach
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