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The trip back to the wizard’s cottage didn’t take nearly as long as Angelina thought it would. By late afternoon, she was one turn from the clearing when Warbel landed on a branch next to her.
“I cannot go further with you.”
“Why not?” Angelina asked. Then she remembered the wren couldn’t go into Queen Felicity’s cave either. “Are you and the wizard enemies?”
“Of a sort,” Warbel said. “But I will not be far away, and if you need me, I will come, no matter the cost.” With that, she flitted up into the trees.
After a moment, Angelina turned and walked into the clearing to find the wizard standing on his front steps, watching for her.
He clapped his hands in delight. “You have returned! And no worse for wear, I see.”
Angelina wasn’t so sure about that, but she followed him into the cottage, happy for its warmth and comfort after her adventures.
“Did you bring all the ingredients?” the wizard asked.
Angelina nodded absently as she looked around. The cauldron was far bigger than she remembered, and already bubbling over the fire. “What is for dinner?” she asked, certain that whatever was in the pot, it couldn’t contain her potion. There was far too much there for one spell.
The wizard laughed. “Oh, that isn’t dinner! That’s your cure, my dear.”
“Really? I thought you needed the ingredients before you could start.”
He waved the suggestion away. “Most spells have a similar base concoction. The binding agents, you know. You’ve brought the important bits, though. And you got them all.” He stroked the satchel still hanging around Angelina’s neck. “Oh, very fine. Exceptionally fine, in fact. The queens were always generous, though... to other people, anyway.”
He said the last part with such bitterness that Angelina frowned. “What do you mean?”
The wizard twitched as if startled. “What? Oh, nothing, nothing, child. May I have the ingredients?”
Angelina looked at the enormous cauldron, and Queen Aquila’s question echoed in her mind. Why?
Shrugging off her uneasiness, Angelina ducked her head and allowed him to take the satchel.
The wizard hummed happily and pulled out the first ingredient he touched. “Look at this bottle of wind! How did you capture it?” Angelina told him and he praised her cleverness. “I never would have thought of that,” he said. “I probably would have journeyed all the way to Aeolus’ island to ask for it.”
He set it on the table and lifted out the berries and the sapphire ring, turning them this way and that in the candlelight. “And you say Aquila and Felicity gave you these... freely? All you did was ask?”
“Well, we had a nice long talk,” Angelina admitted. “But yes, they did.” She blushed but didn’t mention the incident with the glowing tiara. There didn’t seem to be any point.
He set the five ingredients in a row on the table. “Now, we are ready to begin.” The wizard licked his lips and rubbed his hands together.
Dancing and capering, he stirred the pot, pulled a book from a high shelf, and danced some more while muttering to himself all the while.
Angelina looked at the table where dozens of tiny bottles stood empty, as if waiting to be filled. Why would he need so many bottles for a single spell? For one, she could probably drink or use straight from the cauldron?
She glanced into the pot when the wizard wasn’t looking. It was full to the brim with bubbling purple liquid. If it was just for her, why was there so much?
Angelina’s uneasiness returned. Something wasn’t right. Maybe she should call for Warbel? But then she remembered the little wren’s words. ‘No matter the cost.’
She didn’t want Warbel to be harmed, so she waited. She would only call if she truly needed her.
The wizard laughed and sang bits of a song Angelina didn’t recognize. The girl-turned-unicorn understood why she should be happy, but why should it matter so much to him? He jumped and clicked his heels together.
So much for being old and unable to travel far, Angelina thought as she watched him. Too many bottles and too much joy. Queen Felicity’s voice whispered through her memory. Why?
Still dancing, the wizard began dropping the ingredients into the cauldron. As each went in, a puff of smoke drifted upward and he stirred the pot, casting a sly glance over his shoulder at Angelina.
Then he sang the spell.
With berries red and jewel of blue
On each new moon, we sing this tune,
With Wind for strength and sun eternal,
Once a month, we drink to the portal,
To extend this life, and gain full youth
A unicorn’s horn will bind our truth.
Angelina turned wide eyes on the wizard. “That doesn’t sound right,” she said.
The wizard stopped singing and smiled kindly at her. “What part, my dear?”
“The part about the unicorn horn. You didn’t tell me you needed my horn.”
“Because we already had it,” he said reasonably. “Besides, you only need to dip it in the potion when it’s done. Nothing more.” But he glanced away when he said it and Angelina thought about the rest of the spell.
“That didn’t sound like a transformation spell, either.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh? And are you a wizard? What do you know of spellcraft?”
“Enough to know that ‘extending life’ and ‘gaining youth’ have nothing to do with changing me back into a human girl.”
He blinked. “Is that what I was saying?” He hurried over to the spellbook. “Perhaps I was saying the wrong incantation. I am old, my dear, and occasionally I get confused.
But Angelina was listening to Queen Aurora’s voice in her memory. Why do you trust him?
“Ah, here it is,” the wizard said, and slid his hand under the book. As he turned to face her, Angelina caught the flash of a blade and backed away a step. The wizard came toward her.
Realizing she had seen, he didn’t try to hide the knife anymore. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt much, I promise.”
“You said I only had to dip my horn in the potion. Why do you need a knife?”
“Well, that was for the wrong potion. I just reread the instructions for the correct potion, and—” He jumped at her, and Angelina reared up, lashing out at him with her front hooves. The wizard ducked sideways with a cry. “Stop it now, you naughty girl!”
“You are the naughty one.”
“I’m not,” he said pleadingly. “Angelina, don’t you want to be human again? I need to cut a bit of your horn for the potion. Then you can drink it and change back into a girl.”
“No. All the queens said not to trust you.”
“Did they?” His eyes glinted. “Did they actually say, don’t trust the wizard?”
“Well, no, but...”
“There, you see? You imagine problems where there are none. Just let me cut a bit of your horn so I can complete the cure. You’ll see. It will be fine.”
But the glint in his eye and the desperate tremble in his hands worried Angelina. She backed away from the wizard and bumped into a cabinet on the far side of the room. The door came open and something fell out onto the floor. Angelina looked down.
“That’s my favorite hair band,” she said. “I thought I lost it the day all this started. What is it doing here?”
“Is it?” The wizard inched closer. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen it before.”
But Angelina knew better. She also knew that if a witch or wizard had something that belonged to you, they could cast spells on you and make them stick. She glared at the wizard.
“Yes, it is, and yes, you do. Stay away from me.”
“Angelina Belladonna Smith, you are being silly.”
But suddenly, all the clues fell into place, and Angelina was through listening to him. “You did this. You turned me into a unicorn.”
The wizard laughed nervously. “I did no such thing! Come over here and give me that horn!” He lunged toward her, and Angelina spun on her front feet.
Kicking out with her hind hooves, she connected with a soft thud and the wizard went flying. “That isn’t a transformation spell,” Angelina said.
The wizard groaned as he pushed to his feet and picked up the knife. “Oh, it is. But once I put the horn in, it won’t be the kind you wanted, and it won’t be for you.”
“Hah!” Angelina said. “I knew it!”
“It won’t do you any good. I’m the only one who can lift the curse I put on you, and I won’t unless you do as I say. Now let me cut off your horn so I can finish my spell.”
“I thought you said you only needed part of it.” Angelina eyed the door and backed away as the wizard approached.
“I lied,” he sneered. “What else is new?”
“If I give you my horn, will you change me back?”
“No. But if you don’t give it to me, I’ll have to kill you and then start over with one of your sisters. See this?” He grabbed a book off the shelf and showed her the title. 101 Uses for Unicorn Horn or Make Your Fortune from the Magical Horn.
Angelina stared at him in horror.
“You see,” he said. “If you take a horn from a real unicorn, they die, and you are cursed for eternity for killing something so pure. But if you change a human into a unicorn, you get all the same benefits, and you can harvest over and over again, because taking the horn doesn’t harm the host.”
“Why would you do that?” Angelina whispered the question, terrified of the answer.
The wizard stared at her. “I would have thought that was obvious, my dear girl. Money. It does me no good to live forever if I’m poor.”
Angelina weighed her options. She couldn’t let this monster get her sisters, even if it meant staying a unicorn forever. But she wasn’t giving him her horn, either. She eyed the giant cauldron. If he didn’t have the potion, he wouldn’t need her horn.
The pot was suspended over the fire on a huge cast-iron hook. If she could knock that sideways, the whole thing would fall over, spilling the potion onto the floor.
“Don’t even think about it,” the wizard said. “I’ll just kill you and take your horn anyway. Your middle sister will make a perfectly adequate substitute.”
“You are a bad person.” Angelina sidled toward the door.
“I prefer to think of it as ambitious. Besides, good and bad are matters of opinion.” He held up the knife. “Now, let’s get on with this, shall we?”
He lunged for her, and Angelina pretended to run for the door, tricking him into moving away from the cauldron to chase her. At the last moment, she pivoted and ran straight for the fireplace.
“No!” the wizard shrieked. He jumped after her, waving the blade over his head. “Stop!”
Angelina stopped. She put all her weight on her front feet and kicked with her hind legs. She hit the cauldron with one hoof but didn’t knock it over. The room vibrated with a monstrous clang and the wizard yelped, diving for Angelina.
He slammed into her hindquarters, sending both of them tumbling sideways into the bulging side of the cauldron. The hook groaned and slid sideways as potion sloshed over the sides of the pot.
“My elixir!” the wizard cried, and he reached to steady the cauldron, but Angelina kicked out again, upending the pot. The unfinished potion poured onto the floor, drenching Angelina completely.
The iron pot clanged to the ground and rolled toward the wizard.
“You wanted my horn,” Angelina yelled. “You got it.” She poked at the wizard, making him cringe into a ball. Then she tapped the rolling cauldron, changing its direction ever-so-slightly so that it settled over him on its top, trapping the evil little man inside.
Angelina lurched to her feet. She felt funny. Her skin felt all fizzy and strange. She looked down at her hooves and gave a little shriek. They weren’t the nice walnut brown they’d been a moment before, but an odd shade of pink. And her fine white coat was... well, still white, sort of, but peachier. Like... her skin used to be before the wizard’s curse changed her.
Her head spun, her skin glowed, her legs throbbed weirdly. She stumbled outside and fell to the ground.
“Angelina?” Warbel fluttered down beside her, hopping this way and that, chirping with concern. “Are you all right? You look very strange.”
“I feel even stranger. What is happening to me?”
“I think...” The wren hesitated. “I believe you are changing back into a girl.”
Angelina looked at her hands, for that is indeed what she had now. Hands and feet, arms and legs, and long, brown hair the color of nutmeg sprinkled with cinnamon.
She was a girl again.
The spinning in her head stopped, and she probed her forehead with all ten fingers. “It’s gone,” she shouted. “My horn!”
“Well, mostly,” Warbel said.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a mirror in the cottage. See for yourself.”
Angelina stared at the wizard’s cottage. She didn’t want to go back in, but something would have to be done about the wizard, so he couldn’t hurt anyone else. She rose unsteadily to her feet.
A mighty screech tore the air, and the cottage shot upward on long, yellow legs.
“He must have gotten free of the cauldron,” Angelina said.
“Quick,” Warbel yelled. “Take the nests before he gets away!”
“How am I going to stop him?”
“Not you. Them!” Warbel yelled.
With a mighty rush of wings, thousands of birds flew out of the trees toward the house.
Finally, Angelina understood. What she thought was a hedge of dried sticks around the base of the house were bird’s nests, stolen to weave together into one giant nest. Some strange magic had been used to give the house chicken legs and now, unless they stopped him, the wizard would escape, cottage and all.
Warbel let loose a shrill whistle. “Take back your nests, brothers and sisters. Without them, the legs will not stand.”
The birds dove on the cottage and snatched at the sticks, tearing them away from the house in bundles great and small, depending on the size of the bird. Some worked in pairs to take away whole nests, leaving gaping holes in the base of the house.
Shrieks of triumph filled the air until the wizard appeared in the doorway. He swayed with the movement of the house, waving his wand and screaming threats.
“Leave my home alone, you foul winged rodents!” He shot lightning from his wand, trying to drive the birds away, but they dodged his strikes and kept at it.
“He stole their nests long ago, and because of the spell he cast with the nests, the birds haven’t been able to make new ones since.” Warbel landed on Angelina’s shoulder to speak to her. “Now is their chance to take back what he stole from them.”
“What about you? Did he steal your nest, too?” Angelina asked.
“Yes. But I cursed him so that he could never leave or move the cottage without all the birds knowing. Once the cottage is in motion, the nests can be taken, so now they can take back what is theirs.” Warbel pointed with her beak. “My mate and I were the first to reclaim our nest. He waits in the hawthorn tree for me.”
One giant chicken leg slipped free of the house, dissolved into yellow chicken bones as it fell to the ground. A great squawking cry went up from the birds and they renewed their efforts as the house tried to hop away. But the battle was nearly over. In minutes, the second leg dissolved, and bones covered the ground. The birds had retrieved the last nest. They had won.
The cottage crashed to the ground, its white stone walls tumbling over each other; the wizard’s books, kitchen tools, furniture, pots, and blankets scattering hither and yon.
The last they saw of him, he was running away, stopping every few yards to look back and shake his fist at them. “I’ll get you back. You’ll pay for this!”
“You’ll leave me and my family alone, Mr. Wizard. Or you’ll wish you had!” Angelina called back.
The wizard disappeared into the trees without another word.
