The music swirled around us, a tune I'd never heard before. Hundreds of eyes were cast upon us. He bowed, and held his hand to me. "May I have this dance?"

A million butterflies zipped around inside my stomach, and my smile was so wide, my cheeks ached. "Do you even know how to dance?"  I teased.

He grinned. "Do you?"

"It happens that I am an excellent dancer."

"Then, shall we, or are you just going to make me stand here like an idiot, holding my hand up until it starts cramping?"

I took his hand, delighting in its warmth. A prickle of electricity ran up my arm. Could it be love? Attraction? Magic?

Yes, it was.

The chill wind, scented with rich earth and ozone and old rain, whipped at my back, but in front of me, with Olivia wrapped in my arms, warmth enveloped my being. Here we stood, in the very spot we were born, and I wished this moment could last forever! I didn't even feel like axing the trees anymore. Because ...

... I had a sibling!

I mean one that was overly gorgeous, but she couldn't help that as much as I couldn't help looking odd. If I hadn't come to Castle Brittlebane, I would've gone my whole life without being aware of her existence.

Did my dads know about her? I balled my hands into fists against Olivia's back. If my fathers knew, we were going to have to have an even more serious discussion about their lying. What else had they been keeping from me? They better let her come to Coffin Ridge. The poor thing grew up here without magic. Back home, she would be just like everyone else, only prettier and with better outfits. I wanted this so badly I could taste it! A sister in the house.

Think of all the benefits of not being an only child!

1. I could steal (borrow) her amazing clothes.

2. I could blame all my mess-ups on her, like: "She used up the last of the milk and put the empty carton back in the fridge. Not me!" "Olivia drove the minivan over the ugly squirrel topiary in the front yard. Not me!" "She accidentally burned down the house in a fit of rage. Wasn't me!"

3. It would mean even numbers in arguments with the parents—two against two instead of two against one. Much better battle odds.

4. If I ever needed a blood transfusion or a new kidney, she'd likely be a match given our similar DNA or whatever two magic-made people had in place of DNA.

5. Did I mention the clothes?

"Look at them reunited," the trees rasped. Wait until we tell the dragons. Finally, we know something before they do! They think they're better than us because they breathe fire and have hordes of gold and gemstones, and can fly around spying on people. But now we have the juicy gossip! Let's alert the Crow Network!"

I hugged my sister even harder.

Vermeil squeaked and wriggled inside my pocket. It's a little snug in here, he said inside my head. Maybe a little less hugging, a lot more getting outta here? Remember the sign—'Entry by permission of the Queen only. All others will be punished in a painful manner?' And the trees are talking about alerting the dragons."

"What was that?" Olivia said, leaping back, setting me off balance. I yelped and flung out my arms, almost falling face-first into the mud. On the bright side, I was already covered in muck.

"You mean the trees talking? Did you hear them?"

"No, something moved in your pocket."

"Uhhhh ..." I said, at a loss what I should say.

Don't tell her about Vermeil. My logical brain warned. Pretend you don't know what she's talking about. Or tell her you have an embarrassing hip tremor. Or you're practicing your mambo moves.

Do you mean lie to my newfound sibling? I asked my logical brain, though she had a point. I had told no one about Vermeil. What would Olivia think of me if she knew the only creature that wanted to be my familiar was a rat? Maybe she wouldn't want to be my sister anymore. But that's the great thing about siblings. They can't not be your sibling. They're stuck with you! Mwahaha. Take that logic!

My logical brain pouted. She hated to lose as much as I did!

"Come on out, Vermeil," I said. He peered cautiously over the edge of my pocket. "Meet my familiar." I held my breath. Despite my assertion that sisters were stuck with you, I experienced a full-body cringe as I waited for her rejection. She could officially be my sister but want nothing to do with me. The longest second of my life elapsed.

She cocked her head. "A rat?" she said at last.

"Hey, lady, watch your language," Vermeil said.

"But you are a rat. Like that's your species."

"Oh, I thought you were making fun of me," Vermeil said. "We rats get a lot of that."

"But I love rats," Olivia said.

My heart melted. Here was someone I could be totally honest with. Someone who wouldn't judge me for being made with evil magic. She was just like me but with better clothes and hair and skin and eyes! Well, she was somewhat like me.

Then I realized ... "Wait, you can speak to Vermeil?"

"Of course."

"But I thought I was the only person who could talk to rats because of the whole witch/familiar thing."

Olivia smiled and laid her hands on my shoulders, inadvertently pushing me deeper into the mud. "They made us from the same pot of magical ingredients. We're more alike than you think."

"Speaking of Vermeil, he says we should get out of here because of that sign Petronella put up about punishments and pain and essentially the world ceasing to exist, maybe inducing a plague of frogs or locusts just to mix things up. My broom ... uh ... it kind of got hit by lightning, so we're going to have to walk."

"Oh, I forgot to mention that I have transportation coming," Olivia said.

"You do?"

"Yes. But we could walk outside the grove. I know a great hiding spot out of the wind if you're worried about the trees and the dragons."

"Hey, a tree's gotta do what it's gotta do," said the trees. I waved them goodbye and lifted one foot at a time out of the sticky mud, fighting against the wind.

"In here," Olivia said a few minutes later, indicating a burned-out cavity at the base of an enormous redwood tree. I followed her inside, where the absence of wind was almost deafening—like the world had been suspended in time. I sat beside her on a soft blanket of moss and wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to warm up. A chorus of frogs and crickets punctuated by the occasional werewolf's howl was a steady, throbbing rhythm. Like the heartbeat of the forest.

"Better?" she said.

"Yes. Thank you."

"I need a nap," Vermeil said, snuggling into the pocket and yawning. "I'll leave you two to catch up."

"Okay," I said, then turned to Olivia. "I'm sorry I didn't know about you until now. My dads hid everything from me. I didn't even know I was a witch three weeks ago. I'm not sure whether they knew about you, but I am going to find out. That is when they can talk again. Right now, they're toads. Can you speak to toads?"

"Nope. Just rats. I'm sorry Petronella did that to your parents. She's the worst!" Olivia tore out a chunk of moss.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and my heart ached for her. Here I was complaining about my loving parents, who would give up their lives for me, while Olivia grew up in the castle with Petronella! Wow, I really was evil.

"I'm sorry too, but you!" I said. "You poor thing. She wanted to throw you back in the cauldron! How did you survive all these years growing up with Petronella for a mom?"

"It wasn't easy," Olivia said. "As you've probably guessed, she isn't affectionate. I was never good enough. I was supposed to be her heir, but my magic never came, though she tried to torture it out of me." Olivia's beautiful face twisted as if she was recalling past horrors.

"What did she do?" I asked hesitantly.

"Starvation. Isolation. Degradation. Wash. Rinse. Repeat."

I ripped out a chunk of moss and squished it in my fist, imagining it was Petronella's head. "Wow, how are you even sane?"

"Let's just say I got myself a fairy godmother. And I focused on doing what I loved, inventing." She straightened her already straight spine. Girl had seriously great posture.

"You're a fashion wizard!" I said. "Sorry about ruining your work." I gestured at the mud-covered dress which clung to my body.

"You're just the sweetest," Olivia said. "And don't worry. You can zap that dress clean!"

"I can?"

Olivia shook her head. "Our magic really is wasted on you, isn't it? Try 'abiit luto.'"

"Mud be gone in Latin? Hold up. Did you say our magic?"

"Yes. Ours."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"You saw the holographic movie. By the way, congrats on not being turned into a zombie."

"Thanks. Vermeil helped. And yeah, I saw it all. But I don't really understand what you mean."

"Petronella made a mistake that night because she had to have an heir. It doesn't always work, you see. So, to up her chances, she altered the recipe. Added more dark magic. Not to mention she said: 'bring forth the children' instead of 'bring forth the child.' Spells are very specific and persnickety. You can't make a mistake like that without the magic using the loophole to mess with you."

"That makes sense."

"Anyway, the magic that night ended up creating two of us."

"The vessel and the heir."

"Exactly."

"But who's who?"

"You're the vessel, and I'm the heir."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means you became the vessel for all the magic, and I became the heir, but only because the queen didn't know you existed. Now, you're the heir. But, Rowen, it doesn't have to be that way. I know you don't want to be queen. But I do. And with magic, I could take the oath and rule the realm! A realm that is my home, not yours."

"But the magic is inside me."

"I've invented a machine to release the magic from one witch and transfer it to another. If you return the magic to me, I promise to change your dads back to humans right after I take the oath and send you all back to your realm. You could have your old life back!"

I lowered my head and rested my forehead on my kneecaps. "But ... I just found you," I whispered.

"You and your dads can come through the portal to visit whenever you like! And no matter what, we'll always be sisters."

"Um ... that's very kind, but I have a question. What do you mean 'return the magic?'"

"Rowen, you took all the magic that night. Sure, I got the beauty, but who cares about that? It's been miserable not having magic and living in this castle with all these magical beings. And you have to admit, at least half of it is rightfully mine."

That made sense. A hard, jagged lump, like a walnut, formed in my throat. Poor Olivia! I stole all the magic.

You were a baby, the logical part of my brain reminded me.

See, even as a baby, I was evil! I thought.

Babies aren't evil, argued my logical side.

I was literally made evil. And look what I did to my sister? I took all the magic and left her in the lion's ... er ... witch's den.

"Okay, fair is fair. I'll give back your half the magic."

Olivia licked her lips, cleared her throat, then frowned. This wasn't the reaction I'd expected considering I was giving her magic, which would allow her to take the throne. "You misunderstand," she said softly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Enlighten me."

Olivia picked up a dead leaf and crushed it in her fist. "It's not possible for me to transfer half the magic. It's all or nothing. And you must decide quickly. Before I can take the oath, I'll need to be in possession of the magic."

I could barely breathe. Give it up entirely? I hadn't known about magic existed for very long, but still, for three whole weeks I'd dreamed of going back to Coffin Ridge as a magical being who could manipulate the world to suit my needs. Fly in on a unicorn. Punish my enemies. Make people like me. Get a boyfriend. Have my first kiss. But if I used magic to do all that, none of it would be real. Was that the life I wanted?

If I was being honest, yes!

And who wouldn't take the opportunity to mold the world to their liking if they could? And even without magic, people manipulated, punished, and faked their way into being loved. I would just have better tools!

Did I even want my old life back? To live as old Rowen?

Sure, I had loving parents and a comfortable home, and a state-of-the-art computer suite. I had it pretty good, really. If I went back, Olivia, my sister, could have the life she always wanted—to be the heir, to be magical, to be the queen of Brittlebane.

This is what sisters did for each other. It was a small sacrifice, really. Right? Or not? 

I didn't know what to do!

Olivia tapped me on the head. "Rowen, you still in there?"

"Sorry, this is a lot to think about. But you're right," I said, my voice shaking. "I am really sorry, Olivia. And I don't want the job. That's true." I couldn't do it. I clenched my fists. It was MY magic. The magic chose ME. "But ..."

"But what?" Olivia said shoulders drooping, chin trembling.

My heart twisted. Olivia, my sister, had endured countless horrors for nearly sixteen years, and I was too greedy to give her this one thing? Something I managed to live without for my whole life? Was I this evil?

But ...

Maybe it was the magic making me evil! And without it, I'd be a good person. A person who deserved love. Maybe love from a certain annoying minion with full kissable lips and a devastating smile who knew how to wield a sword! Would he like to live in Coffin Ridge? Not much of a job market for swordsmen, but he could go to school. And take me to prom! If he wanted. 

"But nothing," I replied. "I'm in."

Olivia grinned and squeezed me as if she was some kind of perky blonde python. My shoulders creaked. Wow, she was way stronger than you'd think! "Oh, Rowen," Olivia said. "You're making my dreams come true! I will never forget this."

My face heated, and I was pretty sure I was glowing with pride. I was making a difference in someone's life, and it was a good difference. No torture or explosions at all!

"How does it work?" I said.

"Well, I've performed a series of experiments over the last few months with my magic extraction machine and have been honing the technique. In order to extract your magic, it has to be done carefully and slowly. Which means we must control the flow. If it goes too fast or too slow ..." Olivia looked at me sideways.

"What happens?"

"Oh, nothing for you to worry about. And I'm sure we can do it at the right pace in time."

"Vermeil will help. Right, Vermeil?"

He poked his head out of my pocket. "It depends."

"On what?"

"Have you thought for one second about what giving up your powers would mean for me, your trusty familiar?" he squeaked.

I hadn't thought about that. The lump in my throat now felt less like a walnut and more like a shard of bone. I swallowed hard.

Olivia placed her open palm close to Vermeil. "Don't worry. The familiar follows the magic. You will become my familiar."

He walked onto her hand. "Really?"

"Yes, and I promise no more traps or rat poison in the castle. You and your kin will be treated like royalty!"

Vermeil smiled up at Olivia. My chest ached. How easily I was being replaced. But this was what I wanted. Right? "The day of the coronation is only a week away," I said. "I better get back to the castle and continue my lessons. When will your transportation get here?"

"Soon. But I'm afraid for you to return to the castle. Another witch disappeared today. I fear you might be next."

"Why do you think that?"

Olivia looked down at her hand, stroking Vermeil's back. "I shouldn't really say."

"Come on. We're sisters. That means we can tell each other anything. I think. That's the way it works in books."

"I think Petronella is behind them."

My mouth fell open. "But why would she kidnap witches?"

"I don't think she's just kidnapping them."

"What do you think she's doing?"

"Using ancient, dark, and forbidden magic. Sucking out the youth of her victims to be young again."

"That's horrible! But why would Petronella want to get rid of me? She needs an heir."

"Jealousy? And think about it. What kind of evil queen gives up power? Maybe she's pretending. Maybe she messed up our creation on purpose. Because she wants two more victims to make her even younger. Maybe our magic will make the youth spell work even better because the magic is so similar to hers."

"That kind of makes sense," I said, remembering the day Petronella came to my house and tried to zap my dads. I jumped in front of them, but I wasn't hurt. The magic absorbed into my body. Petronella said, 'My power is your power. We share the same essence.' This is what she was talking about. "So how will I train? Where? With whom?"

Off in the distance came a screeching and then strange humming, like a million giant wings flapping. Was it dragons? The moonlit sky darkened as if we were having an eclipse. I poked my head out of our shelter just as a swarm of darkness seemed to swallow the moon.

Olivia screeched, and as if the swarm was a single being, it descended, heading straight for us. I retreated into the tree, but as it approached, I could make out the individual creatures, not dragons, but death moths, each the size of a large bird with dark brown wings, a skull-like marking on the thorax, and eyes that glowed like embers. Olivia smiled and waved at the terrifying horde. "There's our transportation now!

"Where are they taking us?"

"To see my fairy godmother, of course," Olivia replied. "We better go out and greet the moths or it could get awkward. They're sensitive." She took my hand and led me outside, then looked down at our dresses. "Could you make us presentable?"

"What?"

"The mud?"

"Oh, right. Abiit luto," I incanted. Blue zappy magic erupted from my fingertips; Olivia watching intently, licked her lips. In an instant, our dresses were dry and mud free, which was good. At least now, we wouldn't offend the giant death moths with our soiled attire.

There you have it! Yet another chapter of IT ISN'T EASY BEING QUEEN! Where do you think Olivia is taking Ro? What's it like to travel by death moth horde? And will they get there without being chased by a fire-breathing dragon? Find out in the next installment, coming soon!

Thanks again and again for reading my story! You guys are the awesomest. I promise never to get your clothes muddy or make you take a ride on death moths. See how nice I am?

All votes and comments are cherished! Thanks, guys!