The Witch's Daughter by Rae D. Magdon

Author:Rae D. Magdon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven:

“Ailynn,” she purred, her black eyes cold and unfeeling, “I am not surprised to see you here.” She was in her youthful form, and even though I wanted nothing to do with her, seeing my mother’s familiar face made my heart stop.

“You would fetch your dearest,” she continued, mocking me, “but the beautiful bird is no longer singing in the nest.” Rapunzel trembled in Mogra’s arms, her brown eyes pleading with me to do something, anything.

My jaw and hands clenched so tightly that I began to shake with rage. “Let her go,” I demanded, raising my fists. I had almost no experience with physical fighting, but I was not a Witch’s daughter for nothing. My mind ran through spells of disabling, spells of pain, and protective spells.

Mogra laughed; a deep, throaty sound that made my stomach flip and my skin prickle. I shivered. She was beautiful again, like a poisonous frog with its lurid colors. In fact, now that I looked more closely, her form was not exactly as I remembered it. It was a little like a caricature painting from memory, with the details exaggerated.

“Oh, no, no, no… I don’t think so. The cat has caught your bird and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see her again.” If I had any hope left that my mother would regain her sanity and her honor, the last of it was snuffed out like a dying candle. But that did not matter. My first priority was Rapunzel.

Remembering the time that Mogra had raised her hand and conjured a ball of fire, I spread my fingertips, watching as cold blue flames engulfed my hand like a gauntlet. I felt no pain, only a cold, stinging sensation. Conjuring fire and light was one of the first things I had learned to do – it had amused Rapunzel when she was a child. Now, maybe it would serve to protect me.

Mogra looked surprised, but not at all afraid. “You dare to use magic? Against me? You foolish girl… I am more powerful than you will ever be!”

Tired of her posturing, I charged, prepared to burn Mogra’s face or arms with my hand in order to take the dagger from her. Inches away, I rammed into an invisible wall, unable to move forward. The gauntlet of fire that coated my hand flickered and my wrist throbbed with pain, the old injury making itself known.

She laughed again, but this time the sound only served to make me angrier. I tried once again to press through the invisible barrier, but with no success. After another push, Mogra appeared to grow bored with me. “You are becoming an annoyance,” she said dryly. Rapunzel began to struggle against her grip, pressing into Mogra’s side and causing a startled look to cross Mogra’s face. “You can’t possibly…” she muttered to herself, and then turned back to me.

“Hold still!” she shouted at me, lifting her hand and pointing it at me, palm facing outwards.

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