Chapter 11

Cressida POV—The day of the uprising

It was dreary outside, and the musty old library where my magic professor showed me spells did nothing for my boredom.

I had been at it for hours, creating the same round sphere of light between my hands. The reasoning behind the spell was that I could make this ball into anything I wanted: a source of light, warmth, or protection.

I had perfected it years back, and I didn’t understand why Otis was so pent up on me working on it today.

“Princess, you need to master basic energy spells before trying more advanced techniques. You know this! So, stop pouting and throw that damn ball at me!” Otis taunted.

Fine! I’d give him precisely what he wanted if he wanted to practice attack and defence.

I extended my hand and brought the other under, swirling the ball faster. I opted for offence, so I created a sizzle of electricity around the sphere. Should it hit Otis, his white hair and beard would puff from the static and shock, hopefully even incapacitating him for a few seconds, giving me enough time for a final blow.

I lightly jumped forward, creating more thrust, and launched the energy ball toward my teacher.

He ducked just in time but caught it within the protection of his hands and swerved it back at me. The light sphere had become bright red, leaving a blazing fire behind it.

He had charged it with a different power.

I didn’t expect Otis to start throwing more projectiles at me, and I had to evade as best I could in the confines of the library. I quickly made another energy ball and elongated it into an oval shape, creating a shield to protect myself from the impending contact.

I pushed the shield just as the blazing sphere touched it and sent it flying back to my adversary.

I was now grinning. Otis was making things interesting—finally.

“Oh, it’s on, old man!” I shouted as I jumped from desk to shelf.

Each time I felt an imminent blast coming my way, I ducked or swiped my energy shield to deflect the blow.

I had something up my sleeve that I knew Otis was unaware I had practiced. I dropped my shield, which disintegrated upon leaving my arm, and I quickly placed my hands on the stone floor. I closed my eyes and waited to feel the vibrations in the rock beneath my fingers. Once I sensed Otis’ feet hit the mark I had envisioned, a pool of bright blue light passed through my hands and dispersed in the stone, and shot up a few steps away beneath Otis, ultimately making him fly up in the air with the incredible force of the energy blast.

I heard the thump of his body hitting the floor. I dipped my shoulders at the sound, wincing a bit. I may have overdone it on the blast, I thought.

Otis rolled on his back, trying to regain his breath. His eyes were shut, and I heard him cough a little through the grimace he was making on his face.

I casually walked over and extended my hand to help him up. “Do you give?”

He reached for my hand and said, “Aye, I give….”

“Yes!” I shouted, lifting my arms victoriously. “He ceded! I finally beat you, you old prune.”

He bumped his shoulder into mine, and we laughed at how I bested him. I wiped a laughing tear from my cheek and thought of how much I loved that man. He was, by far, my favourite teacher. He always let me do what I wanted, even if it wasn’t princess-like.

“You best remove those riding pants and shirt and put your dress back on before you go to your next lesson, my princess.”

I stuck out my tongue. “You always ruin the fun, Otis.” But he was right. I needed to put that darn corseted dress back on. Oh, how I loathed it.

As I was going to retrieve my clothes, I felt a strange vibration on the floor. The shelves of the library shook, and ceiling dust snowed on us. A few seconds passed, and we heard an explosion from the courtyard, and the castle trembled again.

“Otis?” My eyes searched for him.

What was going on?

Without a word, Otis grabbed my arm and pushed me toward a bookshelf. He ran his fingers behind several books before I heard a “click.” He pulled on the wooden shelf, and it revealed an entrance to a dark tunnel.

“You must go, Princess. You must flee!”

I caught his robe sleeve and shook my head, “No, Otis. What’s going on?”

“The uprising is happening; your father foretold that this would come. He gave me specific instructions for you. Make it out of the castle, now!” He pressed me toward the entrance and pushed on the bookshelf to close it. I moved back, not wanting to leave him.

There was shouting in the hallway and the clanking of swords. I heard a scream and paled; they were coming this way.

“Please, Otis, I don’t understand! I—”

“Listen to me! You are Cressida Cardinal, and you are a magic wielder. If they find you here, you will die! Now run!”

Hot tears were streaming down my face. Another explosion happened, and this time it shattered the library wall. Big chunks of stone flew in every direction. Book pages floated down and burned as broken oil lamps fed the fire.

The air was thickening with smoke. I coughed and moved a piece of clothing over my mouth and nose.

“Run!” Shouted Otis a second time.

The doors to the library burst, and the last thing I saw before the shelf closed on me was a stream of knights not wearing the Cardinal sigil pouring through the smashed doors and Otis running toward them with a blinding light.

“OTIS!” I screamed.

 I turned around and ran as fast as I could. I tumbled to the ground many times as my vision was blurry from the tears wetting my face. They were mixed with sweat and burned my eyes each time I wiped them away.

The tunnel was narrow, but it took me to the other side of the castle. I hit a wall and searched for the exact mechanism Otis used to open the library wall. My fingers were numb from the adrenaline, but after fumbling a few times, I heard the familiar “click,” and it gave way.

I ran out and saw the forest up ahead. I had to make for its cover.

Shrieks of castle residents being slaughtered rang in my ears as I went to the dark, dense forest. I knew somewhere I could go for help in there. There was a cabin used for hunting, and Gideon—the game hunter, would hopefully be nearby.

Three branches slapped my face and stung me as I passed through them, not wanting to slow down.

When I finally reached the cabin, I knocked on the door viciously, pleading for help. My voice was hoarse, and my lungs burned from the run. I could taste the metallic tang of blood every time I tried to swallow.

The lights in the cabin were not lit, and I panicked.

An enormous hand wrapped itself over my mouth while a thick hairy forearm held me from the front. Someone had just grabbed me and was leading me further into the forest.

I kicked and wiggled, hoping to slip from my captor’s grip. When I bit his thick fingers, I heard a grave yelp and recognized the voice of the game hunter.

“Shush, Princess, or they will find us,” he removed his hand from my mouth, and I turned to him, burying my head in his thick chest. I was relieved he had found me.

“I’ve got you now, Princess. Don’t fret.” Gideon pulled me next to him while he continued walking into the forest.

“I’ll bring you to a house loyal to King Cardinal. Once there, you must lie low until it is safe to come out. You will need to go as far as you can from Cardinal City,” he whispered close to my ears.

He scrunched his nose when he looked at my head and grabbed my long braid that fell onto my back. “We’ll need to do something about your red hair; it’s a dead giveaway.” He groaned.

Gideon pulled out his hunting knife. “I’m sorry.”

 My eyes were closed and wet with tears when I felt him slice my hair with his blade. The long braid fell to the ground, and the game hunter continued slashing pieces off my head.

I passed my hand through whatever was left of my once long, fiery mane. It was choppy and short, shorter than a man’s hair. I choked on a sob, understanding that it was necessary for now.

“You’ll need a new name, Princess. But don’t tell me, so I can’t expose you if I’m captured,” said Gideon gruffly.

I stayed silent, walking over logs and swatting tree branches away from me. I pulled the thick shawl I could grab before fleeing the castle library over my shoulders. It smelled of smoke, as I had used it to cover half my face when the fire inside was blazing. It was my mother’s.

My mother had never called me by my full name; she always used an abbreviated version. She was the only one to use it when we were alone, and I thought it would help me remember who I was while I went into hiding.

Ida, I thought. I will answer to Ida.