Indigo Magic
Authors: Victoria Hanley
About the Book
‘I’m sorry, Zaria. But your family has been gone for five years. How could they possibly still be alive?’
The once peaceful land of Tirfeyne is under threat from a dangerous and powerful fairy with a vast fortune in stolen magic. Zaria believes that the same fairy is behind the disappearance of her parents – but how can she prove it?
With her own brand of extraordinary magic, and the help of her friends, can Zaria achieve the impossible and create a unique potion capable of defeating Lily Morganite? It’s never been done before – but with her family’s lives at stake, Zaria will do whatever it takes …
The spellbinding sequel to
Violet Wings
– discover a world of enchantment, fairy friendships and fey secrets.
Victoria Hanley
TO THE ONGOING FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN HUMANS AND FEY FOLK
T
HE GLACIER SPELL IS ONE OF THE MOST FEARED IN
F
EYLAND, FOR GLACIER CLOTH FREEZES WHOMEVER IT TOUCHES – NOT AS WATER IS FROZEN INTO SOLID FORM: THE VICTIM OF THE SPELL IS FROZEN WITHIN TIME ITSELF
.
T
HE PRINCESS WHO BECAME KNOWN AS
‘S
LEEPING
B
EAUTY
’
WAS WRAPPED IN GLACIER CLOTH
. S
HE DID NOT FIND THE EXPERIENCE UNPLEASANT, BUT SHE WAS A HUMAN, AFTER ALL
. S
HE DID NOT HAVE MAGIC OF HER OWN, BUT ONLY THE MANY GIFTS HEAPED UPON HER BY COMPETING GODMOTHERS
. T
O HER, THE YEARS SPENT FROZEN WOULD HAVE SEEMED MUCH LIKE A DREAM
.
G
LACIER CLOTH IS NOT AS KIND TO FEY FOLK
. A
FAIRY OR GENIE DOES NOT SLEEP BUT IS PRESERVED, AWAKE BUT UNABLE TO MOVE
. M
OST TRY TO FIGHT THE SPELL, BUT THIS IS OF NO USE
.
F
EW CAN PERFORM THE GLACIER SPELL, AND IT IS
U
NIQUE AMONG ENCHANTMENTS, FOR IT CANNOT BE REVERSED BY ANYONE EXCEPT THE SPELLCASTER WHO FIRST SETS IT INTO PLACE
.
Orville Gold, genie historian of Feyland
I WOULD HAVE
given up my wings to feel as peaceful as the scene outside. Gazing sadly through my mother’s open window, I saw gold and silver rooftops strung across the hills. Red flowers higher than my shoulders waved in a wide field, and in the soft sand beyond the blossoms, young fairies and genies played a game of pot-o’-gold, their laughter ringing faintly across the morning air.
This was Galena, a place where most fairies would feel peaceful and safe. But I, Zaria, felt no peace. No peace, and not much safety either. Too much had happened in a few short days. Within weeks of turning fourteen, I had been hunted as a criminal throughout Feyland. My dearest friends were attacked. And my guardian was dead.
There was more too. More danger, more risks, and many secrets. Though I looked for the truth, large parts of it were still missing – and the more I searched, the less I seemed to find.
Sighing, I let my gaze fall from the window. On the desk in front of me lay a quill and an inkpot beside a piece of paper pilfered from Earth. Half the paper was covered in words – foolish words full of blotches, fear and hope.
I was writing to my lost mother, the mother I hadn’t seen in more than five years. Dipping my quill, I continued.
Everyone said humans killed you on Earth, Mother. Everyone. And when you didn’t return, I had to believe them. What else
could
I do? They convinced me you were dead – you and Father and my brother Jett. And because I believed it, I closed my heart to every memory of you. It was the only way I knew to keep going without you
.
But two days ago, I heard a rumour that you might be alive. Can it be true? If so, you must surely be captives. Nothing else could keep you away for so long
.
When the rumour reached me, I searched for you, casting a hundred spells to find you. But none showed me the smallest hint of where you might be
.
I skipped over how I had screamed when all the enchantments failed, and how I kept my tears inside.
Even so, I keep hoping that I might see you again. And if you’re alive, I believe I know who is holding you – that evil fairy, Lily Morganite. If she discovered you knew she was stealing magic from Feyland, she would stop at nothing to silence you
.
I too have been her captive, and while under her control I endured great pain! I worry that if you have survived, she is making you suffer. As for me, I was wrapped in a cloak woven of troll magic, but only for one day. I don’t want to imagine what she could have done to you over the course of five years
.
Remembering that cloak, I felt again its weighted darkness squeezing my wings. Not even the touch of iron could hurt that way. The cloak had grown heavier with
every
move I made. Even worse, it had snuffed out my magic as easily as a bucket of water quenches a flame.
But just when I was most helpless, just when Lily Morganite thought I could never free myself, something woke within me
.
I turned the cloak to powder
.
No one believed it could be done. All the members of the High Council of Feyland decided the cloak was a fraud, that trolls had never touched it. They said if it were real, no fairy could escape it
.
But it
was
real. I felt its power, a force I hope never to feel again
–
the power of troll magic
.
Mother, I wish you were here to tell me what sort of magic I called on to escape that cloak. Do you know what I did or how I did it? Whatever it was, I wish I could use that magic now, to find you and Father and Jett, and free you as I freed myself. Then you would be here beside me, alive and whole, instead of haunting me to write a message that may never reach you
.
But the truth is, now at this moment I have only this flimsy paper and blotchy ink. And I don’t know who I am
.
F
EYLAND’S DURABLE SPELLS PROTECT THE FEY IN MANY WAYS, FROM ALLOWING SAFE TRAVEL TO AND FROM
E
ARTH, TO MAINTAINING THE SCOPES THROUGH WHICH WE VIEW OUR HUMAN GODCHILDREN, TO SECURING THE GATEWAY OF
G
ALENA, WHICH ALLOWS
F
EY CHILDREN TO GROW UP IN INNOCENCE AND SAFETY
.
A
LL DURABLE SPELLS MUST BE REFRESHED WITH MAGIC FROM TIME TO TIME, OR THEY WILL EVENTUALLY FAIL
. T
HE
F
ORCIER OF
F
EYLAND COLLECTS MAGIC TAXES AND USES THEM TO REFRESH THE DURABLE SPELLS AS NEEDED
.
Orville Gold, genie historian of Feyland
FINISHING MY LETTER
would have to wait. I put down my quill to go meet my friends.
We gathered beside the field of sonnia flowers. Meteor leaned on his elbows, his legs stretched out until his toes touched the flagstones of the little courtyard in front of my home. Across from me Leona sat gracefully, her lips red with sonnia juice, her silver eyes alert and eager for the news I had promised. Andalonus was plucking petals for her, his blue hair waving in the wind.
‘I went to see Laz,’ I began.
When Meteor heard Laz’s name, he sat up and scowled until his white eyebrows met in a thick bar across the dark skin of his forehead. ‘
Laz?
’ Meteor hated Laz, the lowlife genie who had tricked me and wrapped me in the troll cloak. ‘Why would you go anywhere near that troggy smuggler?’
I did my best to return Meteor’s scowl, but I’m not a scary sight at all. It’s not only that I’m somewhat small, but I also have very plain colouring for a fairy. My skin and hair are both a pale shade of lavender, so my purple wings are the only part of me that stands out.
‘What’s the news?’ Andalonus grinned at me, his coppery eyes gleaming. I smiled back. Who would not smile at Andalonus, the friend who had never doubted me – even when I was accused of murdering Beryl Danburite, my own guardian?
I shifted my wings. ‘Laz said my family might be alive.’
Andalonus blinked. Leona squinted. Meteor frowned.
‘And you believed him?’ Meteor asked. ‘A double-crossing liar?’
‘He doesn’t
always
lie.’ I clutched my wand inside the pocket of my gown. ‘And what if it’s true? What if the councillors were lying when they told me humans killed my family? My parents travelled to Earth again and again! They must have known how to keep out of sight.’
Leona lifted her right hand, displaying livid burns across
her
fingers. She unfurled her wings for a moment too, showing the charred line along the margin of one wing. ‘Humans can be stupidly vengeful,’ she said. ‘Even more than fey folk.’
After almost getting killed on Earth, Leona didn’t think any human could ever be trusted. And I had seen the one whose weapon burned her, so I knew how hasty and violent humans could be. But I didn’t believe they were all alike. Some were not only kind but also fascinating.
I looked away from Leona’s injuries. They reminded me that in Feyland, no healing spells exist. Her burns would soon become scars, scars she would wear for the rest of her life even if she lived to be two hundred and fifty.
Meteor’s scowl was gone now, and he spoke softly. ‘I’m sorry, Zaria. But your family has been gone for five years. How could they possibly still be alive?’