The Conceited Sage of sad really, but here it goes. Suddenly, ... step, was the baby, ... "In the...
Transcript of The Conceited Sage of sad really, but here it goes. Suddenly, ... step, was the baby, ... "In the...
The Conceited
Sage
Linnea Stevens
The Conceited Sage
Linnea Stevens Silhouette Publishing House
2011
Published by:
Silhouette Publishing House
19 Fernwood Dr.
Taylors, SC 29687
Copyright 2011 Silhouette
Publishing House All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of
America.
First printing May, 2011
Dedicated to
To whoever received my hair from
Locks of Love, and to my cat,
Oreo, who was a great inspiration.
Acknowledgements
There are a great many things
to which this book owes its life,
but I'd like to mention my parents
first. Without them, I would not
exist. Special thanks to my mother
who used to read me fairy tales at
night, kindling the flame of my
love for them.
Thanks also my writing
teacher, Mrs. Husman, and the
Director of HRC Homeschool Co-op,
Mrs. Wong, as well as to Riverside
Baptist Church, which let use
their facilities.
Sloppy kisses to my sister,
Brynna, and my good friends,
Jonathon and Gabrielle, for their
ideas and input. This book
wouldn't be the same without them.
Admirations extended to: Gail
Carson Levine, E.D. Baker, Vivian
Vande Velde, and Roald Dahl. Your
books were such an inspiration for
this story.
And finally, from the bottom
of my heart, all glory to God, for
giving me a passion and a talent
for writing and illustrating.
Let's see where these skills take
me and your guidance, eh?
Table of contents
Postponed Plans
Portia the Parent
The Fun Gets Cut Short
A visitor for Sage
A One-sided Reunion
This Spells Disaster
Robert and Reunions
Packing
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Chapter 1 Postponed Plans
Portia stepped out the door, her heart
swelling with anticipation. She was going back at
last. After years of hard work, years of saving, years
of worry, she was going back to the Fairy Academy.
She walked down the cobble-stone path, past her
red rose bushes, past all the things that had been her
life for the past several decades. Oh, she would be
back, but she would be back a new woman. She
would return as a fairy. Well, that had been the plan
anyway. What she hadn't planned on was... well, it's
kind of sad really, but here it goes. Suddenly, there
was a dull thud behind the wall to her herb garden.
A muffled grunt reached her ears -- thieves? She put
down her trunk and peered over the low brick wall.
There, on his hands and knees, rummaging around
in her patch of sage, was a stranger. He was thin,
with ragged clothes and a mop of stringy black hair.
"Hey!" Portia cried, "What do you think
you're doing?!" Oh, why did he have to come now?
She had to be at the Academy by tonight!
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The man yelped and jumped a foot in the air.
When he stood up, he was stooped over, and he had
a pointy face and eyes the size of saucers.
"Oh," he pleaded in a quivering voice,
"Please, don't hurt me!"
In all honesty, Portia really didn't want to
hurt him; however, she was a W.I.T.C.H., which
meant that if anyone caused her any type of grief,
she had to curse them. But, she didn't have time to
curse him! Portia tapped her foot impatiently.
"Please!" the man squeaked. "I- my wife,
she's just had our baby, and she told me she'd die if
she didn't have any sage! The market is such a long
walk… You don't know what she'll do to me if I
return empty-handed!"
This took Portia aback -- a wife threatening
her husband? That was unusual. "I-" she started.
"I'll tell you what!" he clapped his hands,
and chortled nervously, "I-I'll give you the child!
Yes, I'll give you the child. My wife won't mind:
one less mouth to feed. I'm sure...yes, I'll give you
the child, if you'll let me have this sage."
He held out a bony hand, and frowned when
Portia didn't take it. "What's the matter? Don't
witches like children? You could use her to test
spells or something."
Portia was appalled. If he considered the life
of his own baby to be something so trivial, she had
to take it. No child should have to grow up with
parents like that!
She shook his hand.
***
True to his word, there was a knock on the
door that night. Portia pushed the heavy wooden
door open and smiled sadly. There, on the front
step, was the baby, crying up a storm to equal the
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one going on outside. She scooped the child up and
brought it inside.
Portia could not go back to school after all --
she had a child to rear! It was a girl, by the looks of
her. She was pink, with big blue eyes and wispy
golden hair. Portia's heart melted. The tiny baby
was still howling, but she was Portia's. Portia had
always wanted to get married and have a family, but
due to some unwise decisions, that had never
happened. A lot of things had never happened
because of those foolish choices. I guess you could
sum them all up in one big mistake: dropping out of
fairy school and becoming a witch.
Portia walked to her parlor, where the candle
light glowed cheerfully. It was a nice room, with
red velvet wallpaper, dark wood furniture and gold
accents. Portia's collection of Romance novels
perched neatly in a bookshelf on the far wall. The
beauty of the room seemed to soothe the girl, and
her crying lessened. Portia sank into her red
armchair by the fire and started singing a lullaby. It
was one her mother had sung to her a long time
ago…and what a long time ago it had been since
she'd seen her mother.
Sleep little one here in my arms
Let the wizard of dreams cast his charm
Thunder clapped outside, and the glistening rain
streaked the window.
Rest dear child, next to my heart
Let Sleep's arrow meet its mark
The girl's screaming stopped, and gentle tears
flowed down her fat cheeks
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Slumber darling, please be mute
The star fairy waits for you
The baby was asleep now. Portia smiled at
her, then noticed something. There was something
green clenched in her little fist. Portia pried it open.
It was as single sprig of sage. That was an
appropriate name; her name would be Sage.
10
Chapter 2 Portia the Parent
Then next morning Portia awoke in her
armchair, Sage still sleeping in her arms. Gently,
she arose and set her down on the cushions. If Sage
was to live here, she had to have a suitable
bedroom. To find just the right place, Portia spent
the next hour searching her well-lit castle. During
her search, she recalled the first night she had come
to her home.
It had been a stormy night, much like last
night. Rain pouring down on her, Portia had shoved
the vast door open and stepped inside her new
home. It was dark as ink, so she pulled a candle out
of her bag. With a flick of her fingers and a
muttered word, she lit it. Her black cat, Jingles, had
peered curiously from his cage, his black nose
quivering in the odorous air. It smelled of mildew
and rat droppings. Wet and shivering, Portia sighed
and dropped her bags. The thud echoed throughout
the chilled hall, where dust had fallen on everything
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like a blanket of gray snow. Momentarily, lightning
flashed, sending everything into harsh brightness,
and she could barely make out the faded reds and
greens of the tapestries. They clung to the walls by
mold fibers, and there were gaping holes in the
designs. Portia bent down to open Jingles' cage, and
he dashed out, having caught sight of a particularly
fat rat. Portia shivered again, but not just from the
chill. There seemed to be a presence, a whisper of
past lives that had trod these very floors. Hints of
splendor and gaiety long past nudged the back of
her brain. She had imagined noble ladies and
gentlemen arrayed in fine robes and equally fine
lives. Did she deserve to come here and remake that
for herself? She hadn't felt so. Not after all that she
had done. Regardless, she had set about reciting
cleaning spells and renewing charms, making the
castle seem friendlier little by little. She would live
to deserve her new home. The King of Light would
help her.
The King of Light, the God of Besterra, had
found her only a year ago. She had always felt His
presence, pursuing her relentlessly. She had always
run from Him, though, desperate to flee her guilt.
You see, when she had dropped out of school to
become a witch, she had been a terrible person.
Sadistic and mean, she'd reveled in her ability to
hurt people. Becoming a witch had appealed to
Portia. She loved mischief, and witches caused
trouble for a living. Being a fairy held absolutely ne
appeal. Can you believe it? Fairies were forbidden
to cause undue harm to anyone. Those frivolous
pixies just didn't know how to have fun!
But a year ago that day, she had witnessed
one of her witch friends do something so horrible to
an innocent human, and she at once turned from her
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wicked ways. That didn't mean she wasn't bound to
hurt anyone. In fact, it was the law, according to the
Witches' code, section one paragraph seven, that,
"In the event that someone should do you wrong, it
is your duty as a witch to curse him. This includes,
but is not limited to: trotting on your toe, insulting
your grandmother, stealing your goat, and harming
a family acquaintance."
So that she could avoid hurting people as
much as possible, though, she had moved into this
abandoned castle. She knew the King of Light didn't
want her to cause any more harm, and she had
agreed.
Presently, Portia was climbing some
polished stairs into a tower where she kept some old
books. She inserted the brass key into the door and
stepped inside. It was a mostly bare room, but it was
pretty. It was round, and since it was the highest
room in the tower, the ceiling was domed like the
roof. Yes, this would make a fine room for Sage.
After conjuring a few cleaning spells and
seizing furniture from other rooms, it was nearly
done. All it lacked was a crib. She'd send for one
immediately, but first she had to check on Sage, so
she went back to the parlor. The baby squirmed
awake and started crying again. Maybe she was
hungry. Portia went to her icebox and pulled out a
pail of milk and a mug from her cabinet. Then she
stamped her foot and winked, and a mug turned into
a bottle. She filled it with milk and fed it to Sage.
The milk seemed to do the trick, but only for a
moment. Sage started to cry again.
Portia tried everything. More milk didn't
help. Neither did a lullaby, funny faces, Portia's
makeshift rattle of beans in a can, or her old rag
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doll, Lucinda. Pleading in desperation didn't work
either.
Finally, she braced herself for the worst, and
checked to see if Sage had soiled herself. Yes, there
was a smelly package in Sage's wrappings. Portia
vaguely remembered some cleaning technique from
taking care of her cousin, but the more she tried to
recall the specific steps, the more elusive they
proved. Finally, she just improvised. By the end she
was smelly, and a heap of dirty rags sat in the
corner, but at least Sage was clean. She finished
wrapping her up, and collapsed into her red chair.
She really needed a nurse or something. She
needed help. But what she needed most of all was a
bath, a meal, and a nap.
Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door,
and jerked awake. Apparently she'd fallen asleep.
She walked across her parlor, hoping it wasn't
anyone too important. She hadn't bathed yet, and
the room smelled of… well, what comes out of a
baby.
Oh, what a relief. It was her best friend,
Noxia. Noxia was tall and lean, with long straight
brown hair, a mousy face, and spectacles. A fairy
school graduate, her wings were blue with gold
veins. She wrinkled her nose.
"Hello, Noxia," Portia smiled.
Noxia gave a half smile, half grimace back,
"Hello, Portia dear," she sniffed, "Did Jingles have
an accident?"
"No, Sage did."
"What?"
Portia sighed and told her the whole story of
her strange encounter with the odd thief in her
garden, and how he traded his daughter for a
handful of leaves.
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She showed Noxia the girl, who had dozed
off peacefully in another chair.
"She's beautiful," Noxia smiled and kissed her
forehead."
"I know. I just wish I had some help. I've only
been up for four hours, and already I'm exhausted!"
Noxia patted her shoulder, "It will get better.
Human children grow very rapidly. She'll need less
attention in only ten years.
"Oh, good," Portia sighed with relief. Fairy
children took centuries to mature. Portia thought she
could barely tolerate baby Sage for more than a few
minutes!
15
16
Chapter 3
The Fun Gets Cut Short
And so, Sage grew. She grew into a
beautiful girl, with big, bright blue eyes and thick,
golden hair. Her smile would melt a warlock's heart,
and her laugh was like a bird singing. Well, that's
what strangers told her. But Portia knew better. The
sad truth was, Sage was a vain little thing. Although
she was loved and spoiled by all, no one loved her
more than she loved herself. Even from a young
age, all she thought about was the latest fashions.
Her favorite thing to style, by far, was her hair. It
was her pride and joy. Everyday it was different.
Sometimes it was high, sometimes curled, other
times low, straight, braided, or whatever struck her
mood. Like all children, Sage had schoolwork. She
had mathematics, history, Magic Study, and art. She
excelled in none of them. The only thing that
appealed to the girl was fashion.
"Mother, is this the bush you want me to
trim?"
Portia sighed and stood up from her crouch
in the tulip garden and walked over to Sage. This
was the seventh time the girl had asked the same
question. "Yes, dear," the witch answered, in a tone
she hoped didn't sound too frustrated. Sage was
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twelve years old, and Portia had finally convinced
her to take an interest in gardening. Sage was afraid
of getting her nails dirty, so she wore thick, clumsy
gloves that were much too large for her. It was a hot
day, so her pink sleeves were rolled up, and she had
a straw hat perched on her head.
"Okay!" Sage chirped, swatted a mosquito,
and started hacking away at the bush like a wild
woman.
"No! Wait!" Portia seized the clippers. "Like
this." She snipped, carefully shaping the bush into a
perfect sphere.
"Okay, I get it now!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." She flashed a brilliant smile.
"All right," Portia sighed hesitantly, and
gave Sage back the clippers. "I'll be back in ten
minutes to check your progress."
Portia went back to her tulips. When the ten
minutes were up, she walked back over. The poor
rose bush had been reduced to the roots with a few
twigs sticking out at random.
"What do you think?" asked Sage, oozing
with pride at her work.
Portia bit her lip. "Um, Dear, don't you think
there should be some roses on the bush?"
"Welllll, I thought about that, but I've been
wanting some roses in my room, so I decided I
would just collect some--"
"But why didn't you ask me, Sage?"
Hearing the disappointment in Portia's
voice, Sage began to cry," You- you don't like it? I-
I can fix it--"
She turned to face the bush, and her long
braid swung between the clippers' blades.
"Wait, Sage-"
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Oblivious, Sage made one last snip. The
braid fell to the ground with a dull thump.
"Oh, Sweetie..."
Sage looked down and screamed. "MY
HAIR!" She started to bawl, her big blue eyes
pouring tears like a watering can.
"Oh, honey, it grows back!" Portia pleaded.
"It's not fair!" Sage cried "You don't like my
bush and next I got my hair cut off!"
***
A few weeks later, Sage's 13th birthday
party rolled around, and Portia had invited all of her
fairy friends. Sage didn't really have friends,
because Portia had always been afraid that one
would smart mouth her and then she'd have to curse
them. The only reason she hadn't cursed Sage is
because the witches' rules don't necessarily apply to
family.
"Portia dear, how are you?" Loretta, a
flower fairy, shook Portia's hand as she entered
through the front door. Stooped with age, she
looked at Portia through semi-circle spectacles, her
wrinkled mouth quivering into a smile.
"I'm doing well, very good to see you!"
"Portia!" Another fairy called. Carmella,
another of Portia's close friends, waved from the
front lawn. She was a bit shorter than Noxia, and
much curvier. She had long, wavy brown hair and
bright caramel-colored eyes. A Bovinian, she also
had a thick accent.
By the time all the guests had arrived, there
were exactly five of them sitting around a table,
since Noxia had come early to help with the food.
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Sage sat prettier than ever in a sugar blue
gown, her short hair tied up and hidden in a coned
hat. "Where are my presents?" she asked, frowning.
"Well, Sage, dear," Noxia soothed, "We
decided that we would give you one very special,
very magical gift."
"Oh." Sage's disappointment chilled the air.
"Um," Portia tried after a few awkward
moments, "I think it should be about time to present
it, don't you think?"
"Si, bien idea," Carmella stood up from her
chair. The other fairies followed suit.
"Sage," Noxia smiled, "What is the one
thing you want most in the world? Wish for it, and
we will give it."
Sage's blue eyes went bigger than Portia
thought possible.
"Anything?" she whispered.
"Anything," Loretta beamed at the girl's
enthusiasm.
"Hmm..." Sage tapped her chin in thought.
After a few minutes of deep soul-searching, her
eyes lit up. "I know!" she smiled from ear to ear. "I
want hair that grows a foot every day!"
The fairies glanced quizzically at Portia. She
shrugged.
"Because-" Sage continued, "Because I love
to try new haircuts styles, and I can't do that every
day with normal hair! And, if I have any more
accidents-" she whipped off her hat- "it will just
grow back!"
Carmella chuckled, "Le Niña makes sense."
For once, thought Portia.
"She does," Noxia agreed.
The three fairies put there heads together for
a few minutes. After figuring out how they could do
20
this, they recited a spell. Sage started to giggle as
her golden hair shot from the roots. "It tickles."
Although it only grew a foot longer that day,
it made a huge difference. Sage spun around,
giggling with glee at how it flew. She fingered it,
pulled it, twirled it, and felt it until she was
satisfied. "Oh hair!" she sighed, "I missed you!"
Carmella choked up, Loretta wiped her eyes
with a leaf, but Portia just started to laugh.
Of all things, her daughter had wished for
hair.
21
22
Chapter 4 Sage's Suspicions
"Mother?" Sage asked when she was about
fourteen years old. "Can I read one of these?"
She beamed sweetly, holding one of Portia's
romance novels. It had a portrait of a mermaid
swooning in a wizard's arms on the cover. It
happened to be one of Portia's favorites, and Sage
was fourteen. Portia figured the girl was old enough
to handle it. No harm in reading, right?
Dead wrong. From that day on, Sage glued
herself to more and more of those books. She
wouldn't tend to her studies or her chores; she
would only read. Once in a blue moon Portia pulled
her away, but all she would do was stare off into the
distance with a dreamy expression on her face. If
Portia miraculously got a word out of her, she
would talk about the handsome wizard she would
marry someday, or the dashing prince who rescue
her from her prison, wherever that was.
Like all adopted teenagers eventually do,
Sage began to wonder about her true parentage. She
had always known that Portia wasn't her real
mother, but who was?
The answer seemed to leap out at her from
one of Portia's love novels. The story told of an
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enchanted princess, who was being held prisoner in
a tower by an evil witch. Stolen from her royal
parents at birth, all she had known was the
miserable tower, until a handsome prince set her
free.
Sage found great connection to this
story. They had so much in common! But did they
have more in common than she originally thought?
Who were her parents, and why did Portia never
speak of them? Could it be, perhaps, that Portia had
stolen her from nobility?
Sage pondered this. Soon she began to think
on this theory more often than not, until if finally
morphed from a theory in her mind to a reality. She
was being held her against her will! And her
parents, the poor creatures, were probably broken-
hearted for their long-lost daughter. What would a
witch want with a noble daughter, anyway? Was
she planning to eat her? Or hold her for ransom?
Of course, all these ideas sound very silly.
But that's the thing about ideas and suspicions.
Unless they are taken captive and dismissed, and
especially if they are dwelt upon, they can grow and
grow until a preposterous notion becomes, in the
thinker's mind, a truth.
From then on, she avoided Portia like the
plague. Portia was concerned, of course, being a
good mother. But whenever she tried to ask Sage
why she was being so cold, Sage would snub her
and run off.
Finally, Portia managed to corner her.
"Sage, what is going on? Did I say something? Why
are you giving me the cold shoulder?"
"Oh, like you don't know," Sage laughed
scathingly. "I know all about how you stole me
from my parents."
24
"What?" Rescued was more like it.
"Don't act dumb! I know that I am a child of
royalty and you stole me from my parents! You're a
mean, cruel person, and I hate you! I never want to
see you again!" And with that, she turned on her
heel and locked herself in her tower.
Of course she did have to see Portia again.
How else would she get food? But because her door
was permanently locked (and Noxia had stupidly
given her a lock that was magic-proof for her
birthday) Portia had to develop a rather queer way
of getting into Sage's room.
Because she was a witch, and witches do not
have wings, she couldn't fly up to Sage's window.
She didn't like using her broom either, because it
was very awkward, so she hadn't used it for some
years, and she didn't want to relearn. Instead, she
used Sage's long, long hair as a rope. But there was
a method to it. First she had to go outside, stand at
the foot of Sage's tower and call, "Rapunzel,
Rapunzel, let down your hair."
"Rapunzel" was Sage's new name that she
had given herself, to show her independence of her
captor.
Then in a whirl of gold, Sage's hair erupted
from her window, brushing the ground below.
Portia tucked the Sage's lunch basket under
her arm, seized handfuls of hair, and started to
climb. Although she had more than her fair share of
pudge, she had good muscles as well. Hours of
pulling tough weeds and holding paint brushes at an
angle can be a good workout.
Finally, she reached the window and hoisted
herself into the tower room. It was a small but
lovely room, with pink wallpaper and white
furniture. The circular room had a tall ceiling that
25
domed inside like the room.. As soon as Portia let
go of the hair, Sage walked away from the window
and sat down at her vanity, brushing her locks with
an ivory comb. Her eyes never ceased to be cold in
Portia's presence, and they never looked at her.
"Roasted pigeon, spinach salad, and grapes,"
Portia set the basket on the delicate table next to
Sage's canopy bed.
"Thank you, Portia," Sage chirped. Not
"Mother", not "Mum".
"See you for dinner," Portia tipped her hat in
a mocking fashion and climbed back down.
And so this continued for about two years.
Luckily, Portia kept an eye on Sage without having
to be in the room. She had a spy. Portia could talk to
animals. It was a side-effect from a childhood
incident. Her older brother, Brushman, had turned
her into an eel as a prank. Ever since then, she could
speak the tongue of animals. Most of them didn't
have much to say; just things like "food" and "kill",
but cats, however, were very intelligent creatures.
Portia had one: a black cat named Jingles. Oblivious
to Portia's ability, Sage permitted Jingles into her
room through the cat door.
"It'll keep out evil wizards and rogue
raccoons," Noxia had boasted. The cat door
happened to be another of Noxia's presents.
So Jingles played spy for Portia, and kept a
watchful, slit-pupiled eye on things. Nothing much
seemed to happen. It was actually a pretty boring
job, and Jingles spent most of his time sunbathing in
the window. However, when Sage turned seventeen,
things began to get very interesting; very interesting
indeed.
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Chapter 5 A Visitor for Sage
Sage looked out the window, her heart
aching with sadness. Why was she being trapped in
this tower, away from the world? Why had Portia
kid-napped her? What made her so special? Well,
besides her good looks and stunning intellect.
She sat at her vanity, filing her long,
beautiful nails. Oh, when would her prince come?
They always came in the books! She'd been stuck
up here for two years! He sure was taking his sweet
time. Was he with another princess? Oh, he had to
come soon! It was so boring up here!
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!"
Oh, there came that terrible witch now. She
sighed and walked over to the window, her hair
glistening in a pile beside it. With all her strength,
she lifted up the mound and thrust it over the edge.
The familiar weight of Portia tugged on her
scalp. It didn't hurt anymore, not after the special
balm Noxia had given her.
When the fat witch finally finished climbing
over the edge into the tower, Sage turned away and
went back to the vanity. Her left pinky fingernail
was a little rough around the edges, and she had to
fix that.
27
Her captor deposited her lunch on the table,
bowed, and descended the tower.
After pulling her hair back into the room,
Sage walked over to the table and peered inside her
lunch basket. A watercress sandwich with the crusts
cut off, a pomegranate, and a freshly baked loaf of
bread.
Sage sat on her bed with the sandwich, took a bite,
and chewed slowly. For a horrible old hag, Portia
sure knew how to cook.
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!"
Sage rolled her eyes. The witch must have
forgotten something. She let her hair down out the
window again, and sat back on the bed, taking
another bite of sandwich. She squirmed to get a
better position, then grabbed a paperback off her
table and started to read. Prince Edwin was about to
propose to Lidina, she just knew it! He'd take her in
his arms, look into her eyes, and tell her she was…
"…the most beautiful girl in the world!"
Sage jumped and looked up at the window.
There he was! Her prince! The one she'd been
waiting for all these long, miserable years!
"Prince!" She jumped from the bed,
beaming. "Oh, you've finally come."
"Was I supposed to be here earlier?" he
asked quizzically. Then he smiled and hopped from
the window sill. He swept off his feathered hat,
bowed deeply, then stood and squared his
shoulders. "Of course I should have been here
earlier. I have never been happy until I met you."
Sage fainted.
***
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Jingles sat up. Where had this man come from?
Portia would certainly want to know about what
was going on. He crawled through the kitty door
and went in search of her. He walked the hallways
slowly, his joints creaking. He was an old cat,
almost twenty. Half his teeth were missing and one
of his eyes was blind, and he constantly found
himself in the embarrassing state of having his
tongue sticking out. And to make matters worse, his
breath could curdle milk.
He bumped into a wall and then wondered if
there was such a thing as spectacles for cats. He was
sure Portia could make them. Portia could do just
about anything, even love Sage. Not that Jingles
didn't like Sage, but he usually spent his time with
her asleep. He couldn't understand a word she said,
since she couldn't speak to animals. Besides, she
would probably only talk about herself. Boring.
Oh, where was Portia? He felt like he was
walking in circles. Finally, he found the kitchen,
where Portia was preparing Sage's dinner. Jingles
thought, She's too good to her.
"Portia!" he stalked up to her, panting
slightly.
"Oh, hello Jingles," she beamed at him.
Portia was so nice. "Would you like some beef?"
She cut into a particularly succulent looking roast.
Jingles' mouth watered, but he swallowed it,
"Portia, there's a man in Sage's tower."
She just looked at him. "What did you say?"
"There's a man in Sage's room. A prince, he
says."
"Where did he come from?"
"I have no idea, but he's there."
"Jingles," Portia put down her knife and bent down
to his level, "I want you to keep a very close eye on
29
him. If he starts to go too far, or his character seems
shady, then hiss, scratch, bite, do whatever you have
to do to get rid of him."
Jingles stretched, flexing his seldom-used
claws. It'd be nice to give them a little exercise. He
saluted her, and then walked back to Sage's room.
There didn't seem to be any mischief going on,
except they were holding hands and declaring their
love for each other. He rolled his eyes and stretched
out on the pink rug. He remembered how he'd fallen
for this gorgeous calico longhair once… but that
had been a long time ago.
The prince, whose name was Cedric, came
every day. And for some reason, every time he
came he brought a handkerchief with him. In
between naps, Jingles noticed how Sage was tying
all the handkerchiefs together to make a rope. Was
that their plan for escape? Then why didn't he just
bring a rope? But then… it was Sage's rescue. She
wouldn't think of a simple thing like a rope. No. She
had to do the romantic thing and make a line out of
hankies.
***
Portia lay in bed, worrying about Sage. So
far, Jingles' reports had been good. The man hadn't
pushed himself upon her, and he'd seemed very
kind, if a bit dense. What would happen if they ran
away and got married? Portia sat bolt upright,
making her mattress creak. If Sage left, she'd be free
to go back to school. She wouldn't have to worry
about taking care of her anymore. As long as the
prince proved a good man, Portia would approve of
their union.
Even though she no longer worried, Portia
thought about Sage and this "Cedric" character all
the time. It reminded her of happier times, when she
30
had had a beau. Then she had chosen to become a
witch, and she had left him. The last she'd heard he
had become some brilliant scholar. This brought
back a wave of sadness and regret, so she grabbed a
love novel from her collection and went to the
parlor to drown her sorrows.
Alone, Portia sat by the warm fire, sipping
raspberry tea and nibbling chocolate cookies. The
cookies spilled crumbs on her black blouse, so she
dusted them off with her fat little hand. She
squirmed in her big red velvet chair, and settled
back down to continue reading her latest novel of
interest. It told of a fairy trapped by an evil ogre,
and how only the dashing young wizard could help
her. The colorful illustrations showed the beautiful
fairy, blonde hair streaming behind her, as a scream
escaped her lovely face. Portia sighed and looked
in the mirror on the opposite wall .There was no
way she had ever, or would ever, be lovely. She was
fat and short, with wild black curls and frumpy
clothes. Not even the daisy perched in her black,
pointed black hat did any good. Portia was just plain
ugly.
Not to me.
Portia heard the King of Light speak to her.
His voice was distant, yet rich and soothing.
To me, Portia, you are beautiful.
"How am I beautiful?" Portia demanded.
"I'm a mean old witch, and I used to scare off boys
when I was a child."
Do not let people's opinions of you pervert
your worth. To me you are more precious than any
treasure.
"I'm a witch! I hurt people! And when I tried
to go back to school and be good, like I know you
want me to be, I ended up stealing a child instead!
31
And now she doesn't even want to talk to me! Why
is all this happening? Why is it that every time I try
to be good, something bad happens?"
You did not steal Sage. You have not disobeyed me
by staying here to raise her. You are doing exactly
what I want you to do. Trust me.
Portia sighed and shook her head. "Alright,
alright; I trust you."
32
Chapter 6 A One-Sided Reunion
Feeling a familiar sensation tug her gut,
Portia walked to her front hall to check the mail.
She had this knack for knowing when she had new
letters. Her mother called it "a feeling in her bones,"
but really it was just a magical ability that ran in her
family. Besides, she was expecting a letter. Sure
enough, floating in her front hall, was a purple
envelope emitting a glow of the same hue. Portia
grabbed it from the air and checked the address.
Yes! She tore through the seal and read eagerly. The
Fairy Academy had accepted her application. If all
went well with Sage and her beau, Portia would be
back to school that autumn.
She felt an irrepressible urge to dance, but
she had to get going, so she went back to her room.
Portia grabbed her satchel that waited next
to her bed, and turned on the spot. It was Noxia's
birthday, and Portia had invited her to tea. She was
going to the magic marketplace for Noxia's favorite
blend of tea, Spritely Spearmint. She appeared in
the middle of the courtyard and began to navigate
her way into the crowded alleys where the vendors'
tents fluttered. Weaving her way through the crowd,
she found the one she was looking for. She
33
approached the purple tent with its familiar, clerk,
Airibellum.
"Portia, my dear," she smiled a gap-toothed
grin. "The usual Magic Mulberry Mix?" she reached
for the tea that was packaged in light purple.
"Not today, Airibellum," Portia replied. "I
need Spritely Spearmint. It's Noxia's birthday, and
I'm having her over for tea."
"Oh... very good then," Airibellum put the
lavender bag back, and picked up a sparkly green
one. "That will be five silvers, and two copper."
The transaction was concluded. "Thank
you," Portia tipped her hat.
Airibellum waved, "See you next time, my
dear."
Portia went browsing. She wanted to get
something in addition to tea for Noxia. She was her
best friend, after all. She walked past animal stalls,
potion ingredients, magic swords... Aha! A book
tent! She went there and found a wonderful book of
spells about making research easier. Noxia worked
in the Fairy Archives building in central Unicopolis,
and this was definitely something she could use.
After purchasing the book she was about to say the
charm to go back home, when she froze in mid spin.
No. It couldn't be. Not after all these years.
Maybe it was just someone who looked like him.
She gave the wizard a closer look. No. It was him
all right. He still had the scar on his forehead from
the hex she'd used on him as a child. It was her
brother, Brushman.
Now Portia understood what it was like feel
her heart sink. It literally felt like her center of
gravity dropped a foot down her chest. He stood
there, ten feet in front of her. Would he see her?
Fear and panic filled her mind. She hid behind a
34
stack of books. Then... oh! A child ran up to him.
He lifted the boy up into the air, smiling.
"Rudy! There you are!" he said, "Where's
mum?"
Mum?
"Here I am," a flustered, but happy and
pretty woman appeared beside him. She had brown
hair and striking purple eyes that matched her
wings. They exchanged a kiss.
Portia looked closer at their hands. There
were rings on their fingers. Her brother was
married. He had a wife and child she'd never met.
How long ago had they wed? How old was this boy,
Rudy?
Whap! Portia's head spiked with pain.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there! Are
you okay?"
Portia blinked through squinted eyes. A man
with a large crate of bottles had apparently hit her
head, causing her pain. Causing her...pain. Oh no!
Of all the times in the world, now she had to curse
somebody! Feeling guilty already, she said the first
spell that popped into her head: "Frog!"
The crate fell with a crash and fireberry
wine exploded with sparks of purple and red.
The spectacle caught everyone's attention,
including her brother's and his family's.
"Portia?" he said, gaping.
Tears breaking from her eyes, she spun on
the spot and vanished.
35
36
Chapter 7 This Spells Disaster
Portia appeared in her parlor and sank to the
rug, crying bitterly. Why had she ever become a
witch? She had given up her family, including
people she'd never even met. She'd given up the
freedom to follow her morals. She'd given up her
entire life, and for what? A few mischievous antics
and a trump card over her parents? And that poor
man. She'd just doomed him to the life of a frog!
What would happen to him? What would happen to
all the people she'd ever cursed?
Suddenly the door creaked open, "Portia?"
It was Noxia. Although it relieved Portia to see her
friend, she couldn't stop crying. Noxia walked
swiftly to where Portia sat and started to rub Portia's
back consolingly. "What's wrong dear?"
"I wish I wasn't a witch!" Portia sobbed. "I
wish for once I could be free to do good things for
people, and not worry about feeling guilty or
regretful or anything!"
They talked for a while. Noxia had heard it
all before, but Portia's emotions needed to bubble
over.
Suddenly, Noxia remembered why she had
come. She pulled some spell parchments from her
37
bag and began shuffling through them. She had
discovered the scrolls behind some old books in the
library and eagerly wanted to share them with
Portia. There was one in particular she thought
could help Portia at the moment. It was an ancient
body-switching spell.
Noxia considered herself a big spell buff,
and had made some improvements to the spell.
After testing it on a white mouse with a feisty
disposition and a brown mouse with a sweet
character, the results had looked promising.
"Portia," she said, "I have an idea."
They made a deal to switch places for
twenty-four hours. Noxia would stay in Portia's
house so that she would not have to harm anyone,
and Portia could taste goodness and go to help
someone.
As Noxia recited the spell, Portia began to
feeling uneasy. Something felt wrong... No, nothing
was wrong. In fact, the world was a perfect place!
Full of goodness and happiness and glitter! And the
glitter was coming from her wings, blue with
golden veins. She flapped them and rose off the
ground, skimming the floor with her rosy toes.
What a bundle of fun-fun-fun!
The small cry of a bird caught Portia's
attention. She looked out the window and saw a
poor baby bird who had tried to fly too soon, and
flapping its wings helplessly as it fell to the ground
below!
That wouldn't feel very nice when he got a
bumpy-wumpy on his head, now would it? She
mused.
Once Portia had saved the wee birdy, she
began to realize the forest animals were in so much
danger! Why, there was a beaver about to get a
38
splinter, a butterfly about to drink so much nectar
he'd get a tummy-ache, and a grasshopper about to
twist his ankle! Portia flew into motion, her mind
already abuzz with the heroic deeds that lay before
her.
Presently, the body-switched Noxia arose
from the floor, groaning. She stretched Portia's
stubby arms, and smoothed Portia's blouse. Noxia
looked around her and sniffed in disgust. Her sappy
friend had such terrible taste in decor. Bring in the
cob webs and grease stains for Pete's sake! Wasn't
this woman supposed to be a witch? Portia's cat,
jingles, stalked in, "Portia, the man in Sage's
bedroom just proposed."
"WHAT?!" screamed Noxia. "There will be
no loving in my house!" She stormed to Sage's
tower and blasted the door open. She found the girl
kissing her beau, their arms around each other. Sage
yelped in shock, and they leaped apart.
Noxia grabbed the scissors from Sage's table
and charged her, hacking away at her hair until it
only touched her shoulders. Noxia had always
despised little Miss Prissy's hair.
Then, with a flick of her fingers, she sent
Sage to the open desert of Serpentine, and with
another flick she blinded the prince and banished
him to wander the earth forever, never finding his
beloved.
All that magic can be very tiring, so after
filling Portia's cheery room with gloomy dust and
mold, she settled into the four-poster bed and took a
long nap.
Hours later, the switching spell had worn
off. Portia had experienced her quota of good-will
tenfold. There remained no single stubbed toe or
hangnail in the forest. Noxia had somehow
39
managed to do her fair share of mischief just from
within the castle. Noxia snorted awake and gasped,
as the memories of what had just happened played
back in her mind. Where was Portia? She had to
find her!
40
Chapter 8 Maturity
Portia returned to the castle. She was just
wiping her feet when…
"Portia!" Noxia ran to her, her face twisted
with worry. "I- I sent Sage to a desert!"
Not exactly the first thing one wants to hear
when arriving home.
Portia blinked at her, "What?"
"The spell went wrong, and I became evil. I
sent Sage and the man in her room to separate
deserts!"
Luckily, there was a chair nearby that Portia
could sink into. Her hat went crooked on her head
and she looked up at Noxia with weary eyes. Saving
the entire forest's population from discomfort had
been very tiring work.
"Well," she said, "I guess we'd better get to
work."
Noxia and Portia went to Portia's crystal
ball. It resided in another tower, in a room with
green wallpaper and heavy purple curtains. Portia
blew the dust off the foggy sphere and placed her
hands on it.
"Show me Sage and the man that was with
her," she said in a clear voice.
41
A thick green fog filled the ball, and then
disappeared. A large, burly man was stooped over
in an unfamiliar garden, plucking at the sprigs of
green around him.
"Wrong sage," Portia sighed. "I haven't used
this thing in a while." She cleared her throat and
tried again, "Show me Sage, the girl under my care,
and the man who was with her yesterday."
Green fog filled the sphere again, and this
time there were two separate images side-by-side.
The right one depicted Sage, crying on the desert
floor, sand stuck to her clothes. The image on the
left showed Cedric, his eyes white from blindness,
stumbling through a dark forest, with twigs in his
hair and tattered clothes.
"Well, that settles it." Portia sighed, a
mournful expression shadowing her face.
"Settles what?" Noxia asked.
"It's time to start back again."
"What do you mean?"
To answer Noxia's question, Portia
reluctantly opened the closet in the corner of the
room, and pulled out a dusty broom. She still
despised broom travel, but she couldn't use her
usual travelling spell because she didn't know
exactly where they were going.
She swung her leg over the thick handle and
positioned herself for take off in front of the
window. She glanced at Noxia, "Well? Are you
coming?"
Noxia flexed her wings, flapping to warm
them up. Then with a whoosh, they were off into the
night. The sky was a deep sapphire, with diamond
stars winking in between gray clouds.
Portia hadn't flown in years, and the pain of
why came back almost immediately. The wind blew
42
into her face, making her cheeks flap. The broom
handle rested painfully between her legs, and
although she had great balance, she always felt like
she was seconds away from being blown off.
After several minutes and some simple
tracking spells from Noxia, and they finally found
their way to both the lovers and brought them back
together. Sage and Cedric were understandably
terrified of Portia because of what Noxia had done
in the witch's body. Sage began to rage at Portia,
saying how she'd always hated her, and wanting to
know how she could do this to her?
"Sage, you don't understand-"
"I understand perfectly! You can't stand to
see me happy because you're a mean old witch!"
"Sage, that's insane! I love you! I only want
to see you happy!"
"Then why did you steal me from my
parents, huh? Why did you keep me trapped in that
tower? Why did you rob me of my royalty? Why
did you send me to that desert?"
"Trapped in the tower -- You were in there
of your own free will!"
Sage scoffed and rolled her eyes, "I know
how you work, Witch. You're trying to make me
unsure of myself. Well, if I know one thing for sure
it's that I've always hated you! And another thing--
my real parents wouldn't have treated me like this!"
"You want to meet your real parents?"
Portia roared.
"Yes!"
"Fine! As you wish Your Highness! I hope
you find them to your satisfaction!"
With a swirl of stars, the party appeared in
front of a broken-down cottage. Portia stalked up to
43
the door, but before she could knock Sage pushed in
front of her and rapped on it.
They heard some scuffling, and then a familiar man
opened it. His face was old and pale, with gaunt
cheeks and wide, fearful eyes. He was stooped
lower than ever, and he was still scrawny. But, it
was still Sage's spineless father.
The one-room cabin was dark and dreary,
with only one small candle to break the gloom. It
smelled of body odor and animal fat. It wasn't long
before there was a shriek, and a large mass of
something moved in the corner. "Who's there?"
called a scratchy voice. It was loud, feminine and
demanding. "Is that you, Xavier, you miserable
snail? XAVIER!" the scratchy voice shrieked.
"Um-'" Xavier trembled from head to toe,
"It's- I- we have company, Love."
"Company?!" the mass shuddered, feeble
candle illuminated a large, pasty face. It was the
most horrible face Sage had ever seen. It was red
and puffy, with moles and zits. Her mother, for
that's who she was, had wiry, greasy brown hair.
Her porky body just managed to fit in the king-sized
bed, which had collapsed years before.
"Um, yes, my Love, company," his voice
broke.
"What do they want?"
"I-I don't know. What d-d-do you want-t?"
He said nervously to the small crowd.
"We-"
But before Sage could continue, Portia heard
a scuffle in yet another corner of the room. She set
her wand tip aglow and shined it in the direction of
the noise. There cowered a small boy. His clothes
were rags and his face as pale as death. He squinted
in the light and whimpered.
44
"SHUT UP!" The woman barked. "Xavier,
beat him! I told him not to make a sound, since he
ate a bite of my breakfast!"
"Yes, Dear," Xavier hobbled over to the
boy. Before anyone could react, the boy flinched, as
smack! his father's hand sent him reeling, and tears
broke on his face.
For a moment, no one breathed.
"You are horrible excuses for parents!"
Portia wheeled around to look them in the eyes.
The couple just stared blankly at her.
"What gives you the right to-" Portia
sputtered.
"If you think you could do a better job, go
ahead and take him. He's always interfering with
my food," Sage's mother droned, lazily.
Portia just gaped. She couldn't grasp how
someone could be so cruel and heartless.
Before she ran to the boy, however, she
hesitated. This would mean that she couldn't go
back to college for another ten or fifteen years. But
this boy needed her. Was she free to take him? She
glanced at Cedric. "Am I legally able to take him?"
she asked him.
"You're not taking him if they're giving him
to you," he said.
Portia ran to him and scooped him up. He
was quivering from head to toe, terrified.
"I wish you two all possible happiness,"
Portia said sarcastically, "You both deserve each
other."
And with that, they left the miserable house
forever.
As the sad party appeared back in Portia's
castle, Sage started to cry." I...I didn't realize... you
saved me, Port--Mother."
45
Sage's brother was getting heavy, so Portia
put him down on the oak floor and Noxia took his
hand.
"Thank you, Sage," Portia said. "I mean-
Rapunzel."
"No, call me Sage."
For the first time in a long time, Portia
opened her arms, and Sage ran into them, throwing
her arms around her true mother.
"Well..." Noxia said after a moment, wiping
her eyes with a handkerchief, "What's your name?"
All attention turned to the dirty little boy.
He looked up, his eyes fearful. "Robert," he
croaked. It sounded as though he hadn't spoken in a
long, long time. "Are… are you taking me away
from this place forever?"
Portia pulled out the Academy's registration
sheet. Once again, she couldn't go back; she had to
raise this boy. As much as she pitied and felt love
for this poor boy, she couldn't help feeling a pang of
deep disappointment. Nevertheless, this boy needed
her more than she needed school.
Portia crouched down to his level. "Forever
and ever."
Behind her back, she crumpled the lavender
parchment.
Sage noticed this and said, "You'll be
staying with me, Robert."
Portia looked up. "What?"
Sage led her aside. "You've done so much
for me, Mother. Now let me do something for you.
You go to college, earn your degree. Robert can
stay with Cedric and me. He'll be my responsibility.
He is my brother, after all."
Portia broke into tears. Sage had finally
grown up. She pulled her daughter into another hug.
46
"Thank you-" she choked, "this means- this means
the world to me."
"No, thank you Mother."
"I will visit you all often, count on it," Portia
dabbed at her eyes. "I want to be in his life too."
"Oh, of course."
47
48
Chapter 9 Packing
Portia felt a sensation, as the Gandeirians
call it, déjà vu, as she stood beside her bed, packing
what she would need for school. It was eighteen
years to the day since she had found that package on
her front step.
She glanced at her bedside table. There,
smiling brightly stood a framed picture from Sage
and Cedric's wedding. Portia smiled, remembering
how she, Portia, had caught the bouquet.
Beside the frame lay a portrait of Robert.
Upon being asked what he wanted to be
when he grew up, he had replied simply, "A
knight."
He was too young to start training right away, but,
according to Sage, he was treated like a prince.
Everyone treated him extra kindly, and the palace
kitchens had put quite a few pounds on him.
Sage, of course, was flourishing in "proper society".
She had taken it upon herself to be the fashion
expert of the kingdom. Portia constantly found
pamphlets sporting the current fashions on her front
stoop. Speaking of which, Portia felt the familiar
sensation that she had mail. She trotted through the
halls of her home, realizing this would be her last
49
day at home finally starting to sink it all in. Well,
her last day for a few years, anyways.
Glowing in her front hall two envelopes
floated. The pink one was obviously from Sage, but
who could have sent the other one? She wasn't
expecting any letters.
She seized them from midair, and they
immediately lost their purple haze. Putting the pink
pamphlet aside, she looked over the yellow
envelope. Seeing the return address, she dropped to
the floor, her heart racing. With fumbling but
speedy fingers, she ripped through the seal and
opened the letter.
She read the letter through twice, thrice, four times,
hardly believing the cursive words.
Dear Portia,
My dear, dear, dear, Portia. How I have tried time
and again to write this. I have always put it off,
trying to tell myself it wasn't necessary, but after
seeing you in the market three months ago, I could
not rest until I wrote to you. Portia, I miss you so
much. I want to see you again, regardless of what
you are. I want you to meet my wife, Clora. Can you
believe it? I'm actually married, despite what you
said. I have a son, Rudy. You'd love him the minute
you saw him.
Portia, please respond right away, or I might go
insane with regret. I love you, my dear sister.
With all,
Brushman
Portia sobbed and sobbed, until it seemed like her
body had run out of water. Yes, yes! She would see
him again.
50
"Oh, King of Light!" she cried, "Thank you,
thank you! This was your plan. Thank you!"
At that moment, she didn't need wings to
fly, as her feet barely touched the floor on the way
to the study. Precious letter in hand, she plopped in
front of her desk. Seizing quill and ink, she
scrambled for a sheet of parchment and began
writing furiously. A few ink splotches and tear
stains later, the reply was complete. She sealed the
envelope sloppily with hot wax and then recited a
spell that sent it on its way. She had written him:
yes, of course she would visit, but it could not be
until the Christmas holidays. As desperately as she
wanted to see her brother again, nothing was going
to stop her from going back to school this time. Be
it peasant, king, or wizard, nothing would stand in
her way.
51
52
About the author
Linnea Stevens has been drawing as long as she can remember, but became a dedicated writer when she was twelve years old. Her other hobbies include acting, basketball, and singing. She also enjoys long romantic walks in the park and salsa dancing. She lives in Taylors, South Carolina, with her parents, sister, brother, four cats, a dog, and a beta fish named Elrond.
53
"Oh, King of Light!" she cried, "Thank you, thank
you! This was your plan. Thank you!"
At that moment, she didn't need wings to fly,
as her feet barely touched the floor on the way to
the study. Precious letter in hand, she plopped in
front of her desk. Seizing quill and ink, she
scrambled for a sheet of parchment and began
writing furiously. Congratulations go to Linnea Stevens. You have embarked upon a career choice if you want it. You are a writer-- a distinction that few people can appreciate. Writers write, Writers have no choice in the matter; it is a God-given talent welling up inside and must come out. You have a unique voice, as unique and wonderfully made as God has made you. It is all about story! You have grabbed the reader and made them want to join Sage on her journey, all the way to some sort of conclusion. A fellow writer, R.K.
Fantastic! Inventive, yet completely believable, at least in the land of fairy tales. The conceited, vain Sage actually does have a heart and it leads her away from her dreams, yet she jumps into the newest situation with both feet, forgetting about herself. God is good, and He leads her bumpy path to a pleasantly surprising end. Readers are going to be spellbound by The Conceited Sage. M.B.Husman