My name is Princess Constance Reynard of Ivorhaven, and I have a big problem. It all started with a local witch named Drizella and my mother, Queen Sophia the Second. My mother asked Drizella to heal my father of an ailment he caught abroad. Drizella promised nothing as all diseases are different, and cures are never guaranteed.

Day and night, Drizella worked tirelessly to cure my father using every conceivable method. The sickness wasn't magical, which made it all the more frustrating for the arcane scholar.

I remember the day he died Drizella came to my room with her battered leather tome in hand. Her voice changed octaves throughout our conversation, "Your majesty, I have done all I can to save the king. The sickness resides in his lungs and tightens it's dreadful grip by the day."

I remember tears and sobs held back by a thin dam of regal resolve. I clasped the witch's wrinkled hand and sighed. "You have gone above and beyond to help him. You never promised a cure."

The wrinkled eyes closed tight, and rough hands gripped my fair skin tighter. "Your kindness humbles me, your majesty." She drew a paper from the musty book and handed it to me. "You may use this to collect one favor from me."

I remember how Drizella's bright green eyes regarded me, a mixture of regret and sorrow. "I should go," she said, "I have other clients to catch up on.

Just as the words dropped from her cracked lips, the sound of metal on stone echoed, and a guard shouted, "Spread out. The hag can't have gotten far." A deep voice echoed down the hall.

Drizella moved her hands in bizarre patterns and chanted softly, "Remember, use the paper wisely." smoke spiraled at her feet and drifted upward. Odorless vapors obscured her face as she said, "Forgive me." A bright flash and the witch vanished.

I found out later my father died in great pain, and my mother blamed Drizella.

***

I never understood why Drizella asked for forgiveness until almost a year later. My mother became prone to bizarre outbursts and memory loss. I kept the lords and ladies from taking advantage of my mother, or I tried to.

While I was preoccupied with another activity, Lord Rexword crept into the throne room and got one request granted. A few words shaped the future of Ivorhaven.

I remember the day it happened. Mother had run afoul of the farmers. Her refusal to pay them for their goods caused the price of food to rise. Naturally, the millers and bakers joined as they were affected as well.

I managed to bring them to the table, negotiate the deal, and resolve the matter before my mother or her champion were the wiser. It became a hollow victory.

Mother summoned me to the throne room. Her eyes were alight with childlike excitement. She twirled her dark hair around a finger. "Constance, Lord Rexword has made a suggestion. He asked we hold a tournament for the throne of Ivorhaven. What could be more exciting?"

Silence swallowed my voice, and my mouth hung open. My blood turned to ice, accompanied by arctic cold sweat. After several minutes I said, "Excuse me?"

"Lord Rexword suggested we hold a tournament for the throne, nobility only, of course, but I think it's what the kingdom needs." The pride in her voice provoked more silence on my end.

Panic caused my body to shake with violence. I couldn't catch my breath with a net and a squad of knights. Black spots appeared on the edges of my vision as I fought to remain conscious. Mother had doomed the kingdom.

Lord Rexword desired expansion and dared to suggest we attack Wrathmoor. Their armies outnumbered ours three to one and held alliances with much larger kingdoms and empires. If he ascended the throne, everything I love would die under the boot of Wrathmoor. Given his skill, Rexword had every chance of succeeding.

"You look pale. Have you been eating enough?" Sophia put a hand on my shoulder. A torrent of insults waited for release on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to blame my mother, but Drizella's curse made it impossible to stay mad.

I forced a smile on my face, "We haven't had such excitement in a long time. It's just what the kingdom needs to refill our coffers." I hugged her and kissed the unfortunate woman on the cheek.

"This is why you are my favorite assistant. You recognize my genius when it happens." Sophia pressed her frail form against mine. She shivered, "What have I done?"

Despite the softness of her words, to know she still had lucidity dangled the thinnest strand of hope, taunting me. We needed Sophia the Oak Maiden, the wily protector of Ivorhaven. Sophia looked out for her people for selfish reasons, but everyone was impressed she had the thought.

I had one card to play, just one. I hoped Drizella's promise held up. She promised death would allow her to come until the task was complete.

I pulled the leather-bound journal behind the dresser and drew the parchment from the vellum pages. The instructions for the summoning were quite clear. I poked my head out into the empty hall. I didn't see any guards or servants anywhere in sight. My privacy was secure, at least for the moment.

The lock to my apartment clicked, and I turned my attention to the elegant script in front of me. I lit the sandalwood incense and wafted the smoke around the lavish room to cleanse it of negative energy. I wrote the appropriate symbols in white chalk as per the paper.

I lit the four candles in proper order and sang the words to summon the crone. The shutters flew open a chill wind frosted the window frames. My skin crawled as the icy invader crept down the old stone toward me.

The frost stopped at the circle of salt. A tiny ball of light rose from the ground. The radiant beams filled the room. Drizella's spirit glowed with a strip of cloth over her eyes. Her mouth opened, but the ethereal voice echoed around me.

"Princess, forgive me for appearing in this form." regret and sadness dripped off every word. "I am responsible for your mother's mental state, which is why I made..."

Why would she waste time with something I already knew? The whole kingdom knew about the curse. "No doubt she earned your anger."

"Your mother wasn't the best person."

"To put it lightly," I said between clenched teeth. Mother lavished attention on those who worshipped her and ignored those who didn't.

"It matters little what the queen's attitude towards me was at the time. I pledged my power to the All-Mother, and the curse has barred me access to her palace in the afterlife."

The All-Mother? Nobody worshipped the deity anymore. I hid my surprise poorly behind my hand, but my eyes gave me away. "Preposturous."

"No, princess, it is truth. Her guardian, Scathach, told me I couldn't enter until I rectified my mistake." The spirit crossed her arms and hovered above the floor.

I wanted to blame her for Ivorhaven's predicament. Without her curse, the kingdom's fate wouldn't be up to apes dressed in metal. "You'll have your chance. As you may already know, my mother has decreed a tournament will decide who will rule Ivorhaven next. I need you to rescind the curse."

Drizella's empty gaze stayed fixed on a spot in front of her ethereal form. She hugged herself and sighed. "The curse accelerated an illness of the mind Sophia already possessed. I cannot undo it as it was her fate to be so."

Words flew out of my head, and my jaw hit the floor. It couldn't be true. Magic could be done and undone. When my voice found me again, I said, "You're joking, right?"

"I'm afraid not. I can help you find an unbeatable champion."

I barely registered her words. I hadn't moved past the whole fate aspect of my mother's condition. How could the physicians miss the illness?

"Constance, you don't have time to sulk over your mother. Do you accept my idea?" Drizella's words snapped me back to reality.

"I suppose if there is nothing we can do for Sophia, I accept your help."

"I need a mirror and a precious stone. Any will do. Make sure you aren't too attached to it because the spell will destroy the object." She waited for me to move before she said any more. "I heard a story back in the day. A young woman vanished on a nightly walk and returned mad as a Hatter. She kept talking about a city filled with horseless carriages and buildings that rivaled the houses of gods."

And I thought fairytales were flights of fancy, yet something told me Drizella knew different. Why else would she bring it up? "It's true, isn't it?"

"The young woman was my daughter, Helen. Her gift was to see and create portals to other worlds. Helen couldn't control her power. I was too hard on her," Drizella's words embodied her regret and sorrow.

"Will we find this unbeatable champion in another world?"

"He is a warrior worthy of praise and song."

"How do you know?"

Drizella grinned, and pride exuded from her spectral form, "He is my grandson."

There is a difference between believing and knowing. I had my world rocked by the ghost of a witch who claimed to have seen other worlds. Most would dismiss such claims, even from the dead, but I was about to get a crash course in the truth.

The old crone, Drizella, remained in the circle while I rifled through my jewelry for a precious stone I could destroy. The decision was difficult because I loved all of my shiny treasures. I decided on the jade necklace my mother bought me for my thirteenth birthday. It clashed with everything in my wardrobe anyway.

I rolled the antique mirror over to the circle and dropped the necklace at Drizella's feet. The translucent hand glowed, and the tasteless jewelry rose to the height of the ratty cloth over the eyes. "Jade should suffice. A diamond would've produced better clarity, but beggars can't be chooser," She said.

I watched the useless hunk of stone hang in front of the silvered glass. Drizella's hands illuminated the area around her, "I'll have to scratch some symbols into the glass. Is that okay?"

Why wouldn't it be okay? I went through all the trouble of summoning the old bat. Why would she waste time with pointless questions? "A mirror won't mean much if we aren't alive to look in, Drizella. It isn't worth thousands of lives."

"Some of us aren't alive already."

"How many possessions did you get to take with you?"

"None." The green stone hung in front of the mirror. Drizella went to start and stopped herself several times. "You understand this only brings him to this world. You'll have to convince him to help you."

I was sought after by kings and nobles. My beauty inspired the bard's song and poetry. "Am I not comely enough to convince him? Or do you fear I will corrupt him into some deviant?"

Hollow shrill cackles chilled the blood and echoed around the bed chamber. "While I admire your confidence, your majesty, you'll understand once you get an eyeful of the boy."

I clapped my hands over my ears while the stone screeched across the glass. I shivered, my tongue stuck out, and my eyelids slapped against my upper cheek. "What an unpleasant noise."

"I'm a magical ghost, not a miracle worker, your majesty."

"Obviously."

I was at the noise's mercy for the next few minutes. Each new scratch forced me to contort my face in a new way. Drizella chuckled, "You'll need to toughen up, your majesty. It will take everything and then some to win the day."

"Did I ask you for your opinion?" I said in a curt tone.

Drizella shrugged as the final mark finished. She took a deep breath. "To bring him here, I'll have to open the portal above him and lower it. Something about the other world changed how his magic operates."

The rules of magic were quite known. How could another world alter them? The idea caused my head to spin, and I wobbled on my feet, "I don't understand."

"Different worlds have different rules about magic, and if there is no magic, it manifests itself as the closest thing to it." Drizella chanted and waved her hands before the mirror. A strange glow appeared in the center, then started to push outward.

My eyes perused the strange clothing. Women wore tight apparel and displayed their goods for the men who dangled oversized gold pendants and thin pants. The music, if one could call it that, deafened and made speech pointless. I noticed was none of these so-called men had the look and feel of a warrior.

"Perhaps you have misjudged the portal?" I shouted.

"The magic is designed to home in on my blood. If the portal opened here, he must be close. Like I said..."

"Your not a miracle worker."

Drizella nodded and said, "Wow, a noblewoman who listens..." a loud bang from beyond the mirror caught her attention. The crowd backed up at the sound of metallic footsteps. A few ran out of sight.

I'll never forget the first time I saw Drizella's grandson. The silver blue outfit and the matching lion mask with lightning bolts around the eyes gave him a fearsome appearance. Around his right arm, a chain polished to an unheard-of sheen.

He drew a pair of metal batons from holsters on either side of his hips and brandished them. "Where is he?" the distorted voice held just the right amount of threat yet invited the assembled masses to speak up.

I shivered and grinned at Drizella, "I see what you mean. He is a wonder to behold..."

The old crone's head shook, "Give it a minute. The man is just getting started. Watch." She pointed at the mirror.

A man dressed in a hooded sweater stepped forward, a metal object clutched in his unblemished hands. "Silverbolt, I thought agreed your little visits to my club were going to stop." A loud click came from the metal object in his hand.

Drizella twitched and kept her hands at the ready, "He's about to die. Did I mention we can't bring him here until his death is near?"

"Are you serious?" All of this risk for a person who might be dead on arrival. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach, and hope packed its bags and left.

"Pray to the All-Mother. The goddess won't deny your request as long as it's in earnest." Drizella waited a few minutes before she said, "Princess, I am just as terrified as you are. That is the last of my family. If he dies, our magical legacy does as well. Please say a prayer for me."

Everything was out of my hands. Once more, the thinnest strand of hope dangled in front of me, and like a fool, I clung to it for dear life. I sank to my knees and placed my hands on the cold stone. Thank the goddess servants cleaned the floor. I let my eyelashes caress my smooth skin while I shut my eyes.

"All-mother, I haven't been a good daughter. It seems selfish to call you in my hour of need, but Ivorhaven stands on the precipice of disaster..." I trailed off at loud bangs, screams, and shouts. Pandemonium reigned over the other world.

"We're almost there. Keep going. Do not look into the mirror, lest the situation brings despair to you." Drizella said. The magical ghost started to falter. "Keep praying. I cannot do this without help." Her voice split my ear apart.

Once more, I closed my eyes and focused on the words to the neglected deity. As the first Syllable dropped from my mouth, the chaos of the otherworld vanished without a trace. I would've heard a pin drop in those moments. A sweet flowery scent entered my nostrils and slowed my heart rate.

"I'm here beside you always, good daughter," The musical voice calmed me further. Metal banged on the ground in front of me.

I opened my eyes and came face to face with the unblinking gaze of the mask. Not a word came from Silverbolt. His head rapidly took stock of the room.

His voice rumbled, "Oh, shit." He turned his attention back to me. "You're an important person, aren't you?" I imagined panic beneath the metallic veneer over his face.

"I'm Princess...." I started to say.

His hand clanged against his mask, and Silverbolt said, "Yup, this is not where I should be." He scrambled to his feet.

"Halt," My voice reverberated off the stone. "Don't you want to meet your grandmother?" My imperious finger pointed to the apparition in the circle.

He stopped, turned his head slowly, and stared at the ghost of Drizella. "Ohhhhhh," Silverbolt's voice turned into pure panic. "It's going to be that kind of day." His hand fumbled with the door. "Locked?"

I swung the pewter key back and forth on its leather cord, "Looking for this?" An action I came to regret.

"Have you met me?" Silverbolt said. He put some distance between him and the door. Without another word, he bolted toward the mass of wood and steel, fist aglow with energy.

The silver fist drew back and struck the door with enough force to send it across the hall. It splintered against the wall, and thick wood chunks littered the corridor. I could hear panicked shouts from the guards.

When I entered the hall, a trail of knocked-out guards greeted me. What had I unleashed on my kingdom? Had I found someone worse than Rexword? I clenched my teeth with rage, and my fists vibrated at my sides. I marched up to the witch ghost, who donned a pleased expression.

"Something wrong, your Majesty?"

"What was that?" I barely controlled the volume of my words. "He didn't bother to stay."

Drizella cackled and said, "Didn't I tell you, you'd have to convince him...assuming you can find him."

"If you weren't dead..."

"But I am, so leave your useless thoughts behind," Drizella said, "Besides, he is still of my blood, and I can still track him. Give Silverbolt a day or two to acclimate himself to his new situation. Then approach him about the tournament."

"This had better work, you old crone, or I will find a fate worse than death to inflict on you."