Dispelled

Fantasy; Current draft 36,000 words

A quirky, humorous adventure unfolds when all the magic vanishes from the Enchanted Forest following the sudden death of the king—and it’s up to Prince Sandy and June Bug to find out why.

(This writing sample is still under revision.)

Once upon a time, a young girl named June Bug lived with her parents in a small cottage just inside the borders of the Enchanted Forest.

Or, rather—perhaps I should not begin this story with “once upon a time.” “Once upon a time” is for fairytales, I am told, and this story has an astonishing lack of faeries. You see, dear reader, there used to be faeries in the Enchanted Forest. Even yesterday, you could have wandered out of June’s front door and seen so many faeries, your eyes would have been bedazzled by their gold-veined wings, and your ears filled with the shrieks of laughter that chimed like bells in the wind. 

Faeries, in fact, were June’s best friends. She would be very upset when she realized they were suddenly nowhere to be found. She would be devastated when she learned that this was because all the magic in the Enchanted Forest had vanished, and no one knew why or how to fix it.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

I should let you see how June figures out something is wrong, and how she handles it.

Otherwise I would not be a very good storyteller, now would I?

On the seventh day of the forty-second year of King Preston’s reign, June Bug woke up as usual to bright sunlight streaming through the heavy curtains that hung crookedly from the window panes—and yet, something felt different. The air, thick and heavy, bore down on her; her head felt stuffed, as though it were filled from ear to ear with the thick woolen scarves that her mother, Mrs. Bug, liked to knit in her spare time.

Uneasy, June threw back the covers and sprang out of bed. Her blue quilt tumbled to the ground, and she kicked it underneath the bed. Her head spun wildly as she scanned her room.

Nothing seemed out of place. There was her wooden desk with the wobbly chair tucked underneath, her haphazard stack of books on the small window seat, and Lightning, her turtle, lying under his heat lamp. Only Jazzycat was missing; she was probably already outside, chasing the rabbits that were always trying to get into Mrs. Bug’s herb garden.

June frowned, then sniffed the air suspiciously. But there was no mossy scent of mischievous changelings, or the woodiness of the Dianates, or foul goblin stench. Only the comforting smell of fresh wood and pine needles drifting inside through her cracked-open window.

June shrugged. She must have been imaging things.

It was time to get ready for the day.

Now on her hands and knees, June shoved aside the blue quilt and pulled out wrinkled clothes out from beneath the bed. She pawed through them, looking for her favorite green robe. The bed, built by Mr. Bug, listed slightly to one side. While Mr. Bug’s work lacked a certain amount of finesse, Mrs. Bug had given up on trying to hire servicemen to fix his mistakes. Half the time they never showed up, too afraid to venture alone beyond the charmed protection of the Castle walls—or even worse, they disappeared en route.

Once June found her robe, she slipped it on over her flannel pajamas. Then she bounced into the hallway, her clothes still sprawled across the striped rug. She slid across the wooden floor in her thick cotton socks.

Just outside the bathroom door, she paused.

She and Mirror had gotten into an awful fight yesterday; one much worse than usual. She had forgotten again to close the sliding door that separated the toilet and shower from the sink, so steam had fogged his surface. He claimed that the fog prevented him from keeping all but a dim eye on the going ons in the Enchanted Forest. June was sure that the real reason behind his anger was that he didn’t like being wet.

But Mirror did the unthinkable this time. He tattled on her to her parents. As his observations of the Forest were the entire reason why her parents had charmed him into existence in the first place, June found herself on dish duty for a whole month. She had responded with a few unfortunate statements.

June let out a big breath. She wasn’t looking forward to facing Mirror. Once he was in a mood, there was no dealing with him. He could shout all day if he wanted, since his vocal cords never grew tired. Or he could sing off-key in the screechiest, most horrifying tunes that made June’s hairs stand on end. He could be even worse than the deaf Doodle birds, who identified each other by clashing sounds that no other self-respecting bird would be caught dead making.

Well, there was no way around it. She would just have to do her best to ignore Mirror, as she was certainly not going to apologize.

June braced herself and then pushed open the door. To her surprise, Mirror’s phantom face did not appear on his glossy surface. June could count on one hand the number of times that hd didn’t immediately have something to say to her.

Of course, you and I, dear reader—we know why he wasn’t there. It’s impossible for a magical creature to exist without magic.

But poor June had not yet figured it out.

“Oh what, so now you’re giving me the silent treatment?” June huffed, although she was secretly relieved. “See if I care!”

June slipped into the other half of the bathroom and leaned over the ceramic tub with tacky griffin claws that Mr. Bug had picked up for almost nothing at the local Woodcutter’s Market. She did not close the sliding door. But when she tried to turn on the shower, no water came out.

She flounced back to Mirror, her hands on her hips. “Very funny, you miserable piece of manticore poop. Just wait until I tell Mom, she’s going to be furious with you.”

But the polished surface remained silent; there wasn’t so much as a whisper or grumble from Mirror.

She frowned. How could he ignore such an insult?

The silent treatment, which at first had seemed preferable, now grew eerie.

“Mirror, I’m sorry,” June said finally.

He didn’t answer.

Feeling uneasy once again, June threw on her flannel pajamas and green robe and pelted down the creaky stairs to find her parents. Today was Tuesday, so her mother would be making her special pancakes with blueberry eyes and a whipped cream smile.

June loved Tuesday mornings.

“Good morn—” June started to say. 

June stopped short. Her mother was not there. Dough had been poured into the iron frying pan and the blueberries were swimming along splendidly, but it had clearly not been cooked. A half-empty bowl of whipped cream lay on its side on the granite counter. It rocked back and forth the slightest amount, as though it had just been abandoned.

June whirled around to look for Mr. Bug in the breakfast nook. But he, too, was nowhere to be seen. The only trace of him was his newspaper, which lay neatly folded on the circular table that he had hammered together himself.

June frowned. Her parents never left her alone. Although the Bugs abided by the unspoken Rules of the Forest, it was still far from safe. And June, well—she had a secret that left her more vulnerable than the average child.

“Mom?” June asked, peering down the hall towards her parents’ bedroom. She was disturbed to see that the framed photographs, which hung from nearly every inch of the walls, were now slanted at crazy angles. “Dad?”

Her voice, thin and high, cracked in the silence. Goosebumps prickled up and down her arms. She rubbed at them as her mind reached a terrible conclusion:

Something horrible had happened to her parents. 

June sat down at the kitchen table, feeling lost. She kicked its wooden pole with her feet, watching as it wobbled back and forth. Her parents had always been there to give her advice. Without them, how would she know what to do?

June gloomily dropped her chin into her hands. Usually she would go to Mirror, but he apparently wasn’t speaking to her. 

Maybe if she explained the situation…

June jumped back to her feet and raced up the stairs. She banged open the bathroom door.

“Mirror! Mirror, please talk to me,” June pleaded. “Mom and Dad are gone and everything feels wrong, and I…I’m sorry about yesterday, okay?”

June waited. 

And waited. 

Heat rose in her cheeks. This was a serious matter! How could Mirror be so heartless?

“Fine,” June huffed. “Be that way.”

But the silence was too strange, and she was too frightened, to work up the anger that she had felt only a few minutes ago.

June walked down the stairs at half her usual pace, thinking very hard. She had no idea what creature could have taken her parents, or where they would have gone. Usually magical creatures left some sort of clue behind, but she had seen and smelled nothing all morning. And the Forest was so large! How would she ever know where to start searching?

An idea struck her. Maybe Jazzycat would know! No matter how many scrapes June had found herself in, Jazzycat would always slink out from behind the thick trunks of evergreen trees, silver fur shining. No magical spells ever seemed to affect her. And although the cat liked to be perceived as cryptic, she usually had practical advice when June was particularly distressed.

Full of energy again, June hurried outside through the back door to Mrs. Bug’s herb garden. But her efforts were thwarted once again. Jazzycat and her silver fur were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a dingy gray cat lying in the bare space between the radimato plants—Jazzycat’s favorite spot, of all places!

The cat, who was indeed Jazzycat but without the magic to silver her fur, sensed June’s despair. She rose to her paws and picked her way carefully through the herb garden; she had received enough lectures from Mrs. Bug to know better than to trample any of the plants. 

But without magic, all Jazzycat could do was meow. Frustrated, she wound herself around June’s boots, leaving behind tufts of gray hair.

June sighed and bent down, giving the cat a good scratch behind the ears. Everyone had gone missing today. There was no one to tell her what to do.

She would have to figure it out on her own.