Swamp Glade

In the aftermath of the battle, Airi felt... conflicted.

She and Mildred were hailed as heroes, of course. No one seemed upset that all the treasure had disappeared upon Gold’s defeat. The “gold fever” seemed to have dissipated, and Stonecliff was much livelier now.

But some wept tears of grief. After Gold’s defeat, they had found human remains in place of the lifesized gold statues, with burn scars where the jewelry had melted into their flesh. Most were difficult to identify, since all the townspeople wore similar clothes, but Airi recognized one—a woman wearing a leafy gold wedding ring. In the enormous crowd that gathered to see Airi and Mildred off, Airi didn’t see the jeweler. Perhaps he was mourning his wife.

That bitter thought vanished when she saw Gertie and Anne waving side-by-side at the front of the crowd. Gertie wore a friendship bracelet made of twine around her hand, and Anne wore a bead necklace. Jack and Roger were talking animatedly in the back, nearly unrecognizable from the hostile men who had attacked Airi and Mildred.

Her mood improved further when she saw Fiona join a merchant’s caravan bound for Magisbury. She wore a bronze mage crest to her gray cloak. As she left, she offered a grateful smile to Mildred and Airi.

Perhaps the best part was that the fight had exhausted Mildred’s mana, forcing them to walk to Swamp Glade.

“What a bummer,” Airi said cheerfully. Mildrd gave her a dirty look.

All of Airi’s doubts returned when she caught sight of her reflection in the river. Though her travel cloak hid it well, a hint of pastel blue crystal peeked out on her neck. When she took off her cloak, she saw that the crystal had grown to cover her shoulders and neck, making it impossible for her to take off her cloak without being discovered. Where the ruby necklace had melted into her flesh, there was a gold crack in the crystal, like a scar.

Mildred pursed her lips when she saw.

“Do you want to go back to Magisbury?” she asked Airi. “If we run into any more monsters, that will only get harder to hide.”

Airi shook her head and fastened her cloak back around her neck, and that was the end of it. So what if she had to wear the cloak? It was a small price to pay for becoming unbreakable.

As they left the cliffs behind, the ground became marshy and the sky darkened with clouds. Plants that looked like lily leaves towered overhead as they traveled further along the Lullaby River.

“Parasol ferns,” Mildred said, tracing her hand along one of the tall stems. “I’ve only ever read about them.”

When it began to rain, she snapped off a parasol fern and held it over their heads like an umbrella.

It was pouring when they arrived in Swamp Glade, a small village that floated on the surface of a vast, misty lake. Wooden bridges and walkways extended between the houses, and boats bobbed between clumps of reeds and watergrass.

“Wendolyn lives beyond the village,” Mildred said as they leaped across stepping stones. “I think I’ve recovered enough mana to cast the wayfinding spell.”

“If you hate that spell so much, why do you use it so often?”

Mildred’s expression became guarded. “I study wind. I have a decent understanding of it, so it’s most efficient for me to cast wind spells.”

But Airi wasn’t going to let the topic go so easily, not when she might be subjected to that awful spell again. “Can I read the wayfinding spell?”

“It’s not—you don’t—it’s just a silly children’s book,” Mildred said.

“So? I can’t have a look? Sometimes silly books are the best.”

Mildred wavered. “Fine...” She passed The Magical Map to Airi. “I don’t know why you’re so curious. It’s not well-written.”

‘Once upon a time, a little girl got lost in the woods.’ Airi skimmed the book, acutely aware of Mildred’s eyes on her. It was one of those children’s fairytales with a feel-good ending. In the end, the little girl was reunited with her family and lived happily ever after.

She closed the book.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Mildred watched Airi intently.

Airi thought about it. “...Yeah. A little. I mean, the plot’s not amazing, but—”

“I wrote it!”

“Huh?”

“I wrote The Magical Map,” Mildred repeated, as if she’d wanted to say those words for a long time. She looked at Airi, slightly wild-eyed, and said, “Now what do you think about it?”

“Now it’s even worse.”

Mildred looked shocked for a second. Then they both laughed. The parasol fern wobbled in Mildred’s hand, shaking raindrops onto Airi’s head. Airi had never seen Mildred laugh; she’d barely seen her smile. In the rain, with her hair down, she didn’t look like a mage.

“I wrote it when I was five,” Mildred explained. “I only meant to write a story to show my parents, and I misspelled half the words. But because it was the first wayfinding spell that actually worked, everyone called me a genius, when I was really just a five-year-old with a lot of mana. They teach a class in the Lower Palace called Analyzing The Literary Themes of The Magical Map. Did you know that? Isn’t it ridiculous?”

“It's crazy.” Airi thought of five-year-old Mildred, proudly presenting her book to her parents, unaware that her life would change forever. Suddenly, she understood why Mildred had tried to stop Nestor from coming to Magisbury. She must have seen her five-year-old self in him.

“Anyways, you’re the first one who’s told me it was bad,” Mildred said.

“I’ll tell you it’s bad every day if it makes you this happy,” Airi said, which earned her another laugh.

Weeping willows hid the Flooded Garden from view. Mildred had to use Tale of Flight so they could float above the water, avoiding the swamp snakes that patrolled the lake for ankles to bite.

True to its name, the Flooded Garden was a tower half-sunken into the lake, surrounded by statues and fountains covered in algae. Rosy light glowed invitingly through lilac curtains, and a curving staircase led out of the water to the double doors. It didn’t look like a ruin; it looked more like a ballroom.

“I haven’t seen Wendolyn in forever,” Mildred said. “I was hoping to keep it that way.”

“You don’t like her?”

“She’s... very unique.”

They floated across the lake to the doors, and Mildred knocked twice. There was no answer.

“She hasn’t changed,” Mildred said. She cast Wolf at the Door, and the double doors swung open.

An older woman in draping black robes loomed in the doorway. She looked about Mom's age, with coral-red hair that hung down her back in an elaborate braid. She wore elbow-length black gloves, and her lips were painted a glossy red.

“So Marianne sent you,” Wendolyn said, surveying Mildred critically. “She must be quite desperate. Let me guess—there’s a monster she needs my help to defeat?”

“It’s Charybdis,” Mildred said.

Wendolyn yawned. “How boring. None of you have managed to defeat it yet? Well, come in. You’re letting the air inside.” She eyed Airi with bored eyes. “Who’s this? Your servant?”

“We’re friends,” Airi said. She didn’t like the way Wendolyn looked at her.

Wendolyn threw her head back and laughed. “What a statement! The Mildred I know doesn’t have any friends.” She pinched Airi’s cheek. “You’re funny, so you can come in too, I suppose.”

Mildred said nothing, but she put her hand on Airi’s shoulder when Wendolyn turned away.