Page 27 of Charmed

“The frog can also read—” he began.

“That falls under the communication spell, as you’re well aware.”

“Of course.” A flicker of anxiety crossed his face as he pressed on. “I have also established a telepathic link. Observe.” He drew a slip of parchment from his pocket and quickly wrote a word, shielding it from my view as he handed it to the enchantress. Once more I felt the strange presence in my mind, filling it with a rough sketch of a lily pad that seemed to waver on the edges, as though the temporary spell was already wearing off.

“Lily pad,” I declared confidently.

Enchantress Ivy glanced between us with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. “Telepathic communication is typically only possible between two people who know each other rather well,” she observed after a moment. “Enchanting a frog to receive your thoughts is an impressive accomplishment. However, telepathy is stillcommunication, so unfortunately it does not qualify as a unique charm. What are its other enchantments?”

Alden’s posture grew more tense as he frantically considered. “Its other enchantments. Uh…”

No ideas seemed forthcoming, as if the pressure had stifled every ounce of his creativity, and I wasn’t sure whether I possessed the knowledge to be much help. I considered every charm I’d read about in my own studies, trying to find one to help the prince, my concern for my brother guiding my desperation; unless Wizard Alden earned a position on the council, I had no hope of acquiring either my human form or a healing spell.

“I’ve been enchanted with magical knowledge.” I wasn’t entirely sure whether such a spell actually existed, but it’d been the first thing to come to mind.

The enchantress’s expression didn’t change save for a glimmer of interest as her eyes once more swept over me. “Ah, a spell to transfer knowledge into another object. Such magic is much more complicated and interesting than a communication spell. You’ve come a long way, Alden.”

He opened his mouth, as if to protest the accolades he hadn’t earned, but the spellbook rammed into his side, silencing his interference with a startled hiss of pain.

The enchantress returned her attention to me. “A quiz will verify the effectiveness of the charm. I shall ask you a question whose answer your enchanter would have acquired during his studies…and thus imparted into you when the spell was cast.”

Drat, I hadn’t considered I would be tested. What were the odds I’d be asked something I so happened to have learned during the short duration of my apprenticeship?

“Explain the theory behind using love as an element in a potion or spell.”

Apparently not very likely odds, leaving me without the faintest idea on how to respond, especially considering the question pertained to my least favorite topic, magical theory. But though my annoyance with Wizard Alden lingered, I felt a strange urgency to do all in my power to help him…for the sake of the spells he’d reward me with, of course.

The spellbook gave an impatient wriggle from beneath his arm, as if it knew the answer and was anxious to share it. With each agitated ruffle of its pages, its knowledge seemed to cross the distance separating us in order to caress my thoughts—not in words but in images and senses, similar to my communication with magic.

“Love is not an ingredient that can ever be created or taken; it can only be used if the magical wielder either develops it within their own heart in order for their magic to have access to it, or if it’s freely given by another.”

I didn’t consciously repeat the uncertain words, they simply emerged as I struggled to understand the communication emanating from the silent spellbook.

Wizard Alden’s lips parted in surprise before he hastily rearranged his expression to one expectant rather than astonished, as if he’d fully anticipated my response.

The enchantress gave a crisp nod. “Correct. Though the answer was right, the response time was a bit slow, a sign that the charm wasn’t cast as neatly as it could be. However, I’m impressed you successfully cast a highly skilled spell. Excellent work.” She made another mark on the parchment. “And the third charm?”

It seemed both of us had finally run out of ideas. “I’m afraid that’s all I have to offer at the moment.”

Enchantress Ivy frowned. “How unfortunate.”

He bowed his head and said nothing. The enchantress studied him for a long moment.

“Don’t look so defeated; the spells you managed were quite impressive, even with my knowledge of your capabilities. I’m inclined to allow you to compete, especially since I understand the disadvantage you brought to the competition—your royal duties undoubtedly limited your time to perform at your full capacity. I will present you with a choice: you can either choose to accept the extra help your title will provide in making up for the points you’ve lost so that you can enter these trials…or you can disregard it. If you select the latter, your role in this competition ends here.”

An arduous battle warred across Wizard Alden’s expression before he relinquished the fight with a reluctant sigh. “If my title…can be of help…then I’d prefer to use it to compete than not be allowed to at all.” His mouth twisted on the words.

The enchantress nodded. “Understood. So extra points for your title…as well as your disguise spell, for good measure.” With a final mark on the parchment, it vanished in a wave of her hand and a sparkle of light. “Welcome to the Magical Competition, Prince Alden.”

He winced at the address. “From this moment forward I don’t want my title to have any bearing on the competition. You are not to inform the other judges a prince is competing, nor give me any preferential treatment just because I’m royal, even for something this important to me. If I earn a position on the council, it will be due to my own merits.”

“Very well, Your Highness…or rather, Wizard Alden.” With another wave of her hand a miniature chest appeared. “Your next challenge is hidden beneath another magical lock, this one guarded by a riddle. I wish you luck in your ambitions.”

Despite his obvious pleasure in having made it this far, Wizard Alden hesitated, as if unsure whether he deserved to accept the clue. But his desire for the position seemed to be stronger than his sense of honor in acquiring it nobly.

With a sigh he plucked it from the air, picked up both me and his spellbook, and walked swiftly from the invisible tent. Although he’d successfully overcome the first obstacle on the journey to achieving his ambitions and our being about to embark on our next adventure, the joy I’d expected to see after completing the challenge was entirely absent.

CHAPTER9

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