“How?” I glance towards the pantry where Lewis is whistling away to himself. “Has Lewis said something?”
“No, but surely…”
“Jacqueline, there are plenty of wards throughout the town. There’s no way the humans will notice anything. Besides, that’s the least of our worries. We need to change everyone back.”
“How?” Rehan asks sternly.
I don’t have an answer for him, but I don’t want to just shrug my shoulders and admit defeat either.
“A spell?” I suggest half-heartedly. I have zero clue how to fix this.
Rehan turns to Castalia, “tell us about this potion.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I begin, but no one is paying attention. They’re going to make this worse. I can guarantee it. If there’s one thing I know it’s that Castalia and potions don’t mix well.
Wren comes to my side, murmuring in my ear, “I think we need to talk to Evanora.”
I smile brightly at him, only slightly annoyed that I hadn’t thought of it first.
“Let’s go,” I agree quickly.
Wren takes my hand before turning to the others. “You guys try to work out a solution. We’re going to go see Evanora.”
“You’re going to visit the witch in the woods?” Jerome asks, fear evident in his eyes.
You’d think after everything we’ve been through, the children would have forgotten their old prejudices against Evanora. But no. They’re still as scared of her as ever.
“Yeah, we’ll be back soon,” I tell the little wolf shifter softly.
Leaving the orphanage, Wren opens my car’s passenger door for me. I climb in and smile up at him as he closes it and walks around the car to the driving side. Once he’s sitting next to me, I reach over and touch his face.
“How do you make pink look so good?” I ask.
He gives me a confident smirk. “I can make anything look good.”
“Do you think Evanora will know what to do?”
“Hopefully,” Wren says as he turns the key in the ignition, starting the car and driving down the road in the direction of the woods. The streets are unusually busy, neighbors talking animatedly over fences. They’re shaking their heads and I feel myself drooping in my seat, hoping that no one will spot us. I don’t want to lie to our neighbors, but I’m not about to tell them the truth.
“I really hope they don’t try making a potion…”
“Why?” Wren asks, taking my hand in his.
“Let’s just say potions aren’t really Castalia’s thing. She’s better with spells.”
“Are you sure about that?” Wren grins, probably thinking about how we still haven’t managed to fix Castalia’s last spell.
“She’s just a little too good at spells,” I say with a giggle.
“Is that what it is?”
The streets grow less crowded, the houses and buildings more spaced out, and then all of a sudden, we’re no longer in the town at all. Wren parks the car on the outskirts of the woods, and then we both climb out quickly. There’s no time to waste.
I can only hope that we reach Evanora’s house before Castalia tries to fix her spell. No doubt, we’ll all be yellow next. I tell Wren as much but he only smirks, saying, “I think I’d rather be yellow.”
“What about pink with yellow spots?”
“God, I hope not!” Wren’s eyes bulge as he glances back at me before helping me climb over a fallen tree. “That sounds dreadful.”
“What if Evanora can’t help?” I ask nervously.
“There are other witches we could ask. Jasmine or Juniper… I’m sure they’d be willing to help.”
I nod my head, even though I’m not convinced. It’s hard to believe that any of the other witches I know will be able to fix this, if Evanora can’t.
We’re not far from Evanora’s house when Wren suddenly pulls up short. “Lupine?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
He points to my face and the look on his face makes it clear that something is very wrong. My hands go to my face, feeling their way. My nose is far too large, a little too round and surprising flat. Being pink with yellow spots is beginning to feel tempting. Anything would be better than this.
Panicking, I reach across to Wren’s face. I’m not the only one whose face is changing. Where Wren’s usually beautiful nose should be sits a pig’s snout.
“I think we better hurry,” I tell him anxiously.
“Yeah, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you become a pig.”
I can’t help but smile at his protective tone. He’s not worried about himself. Only me. Wren takes my hand and then we’re rushing through the woods following the tiny, easy to miss path that leads to Evanora’s house.
I really hope we can get this all straightened out before the whole town is full of nothing but pigs.
Visiting Evanora
E vanora is waiting for us when we reach her house. “Hurry up. Get in here you two!”
“Evanora, we need your help,” I begin as I step into her house.
“Oh dear, I know full well what sort of trouble you’re in.”
“You know?” I ask, gobsmacked.
“My face is pink,” she says so calmly that you’d think it was an everyday occurrence, “and my nose was definitely cuter when I woke up this morning.”
Wren is pulling a face that says as plain as day that he doesn’t think for one second that Evanora’s nose could ever be described as cute. I have to squash the laughter that wants to escape me. I wouldn’t want to offend the witch that I’m asking for help. That just wouldn’t be wise.
“What I don’t know is what you think I can do about it,” Evanora continues. “The only one that can fix this is the little witch that cast the spell in the first place.”
“Er… She can’t,” I say quietly. “She’s brilliant at spells but not so much counter-spells.”
Evanora nods her head as if my words are perfectly reasonable and I wonder silently if I’ve been a little too hard on Castalia. Maybe, it’s perfectly normal for a teenage witch to be crappy at undoing their magic.
“Let me grab a few things,” Evanora tells us as she hurriedly moves about her house, picking stuff up as she goes. “We haven’t got time to waste. I can feel my ears itching.”
“Your ears are itching too?” Wren asks nervously, lowering his hand that only seconds before had been scratching his ear. Looking at him, I notice that his already pink ears are now surprisingly hairy. I watch in horror as his ears begin to resemble that of a pig.
“Oh no,” I squeal as my hands move to cover my own ears. I really don’t want to have pig ears!
Wren turns his attention to me, immediately concerned. He crouches as if he’s going to defend me from some invisible enemy. I should tell him not to worry, that I only squealed because my ears are changing, but then I’d probably have to show him and I don’t want to embarrass myself.
He’d probably tell me that I look cute or something, but he’d be lying.