Artemis and Caspian: The Spy

Chapter Thirty Six

"I did it."

Artemis held her notes up with shaking hands, reading the crooked lines of black ink. She laughed in delight as she dropped the paper, running two hands through the frizzy mess on top of her head she referred to as hair.

"I did it!"

Letting out another triumphant shout that came out as an exacerbated gasp, the witch ran over to her window, cursing when her jerky movements hitched on the edge of her table. A few vials of poison rolled over each other, glass threatening to fall on the ground. Sucking the victory out of her a little bit, Artemis grumbled as she set the vials upright again, neatly, in her own special way, across the desk again.

Always one to take the hard road out, the witch had insisted her room stay in perpetual darkness in the last few hours while her brilliance was at work. Forgetting it was eleven in the morning, Artemis threw open the curtains covering her window, immediately recoiling in horror as the optimistic, bright sunshine drenched her room with its radiant rays. On an ordinary day, she would regret her decision and return to her comfortable dark doom and gloom, but today was a special occasion. Turning back to her desk she cursed again and sprinted over, blowing out a candle that was dangerously close to disintegrating the pages of her masterpiece.

"Come on, come on Artemis, get it together," she mumbled, hastily gathering the papers in her arms and heading for the door. On her way out, she got a quick glimpse of her reflection in a mirror hanging from the open door of her armoire. Making a hissing sound and a repulsed face, she went on to regret her life decisions.

Placing the papers down, the witch did her best to run her fingers through her hair and wipe the sweat from her brow, trying to make herself appear somewhat presentable. Despite, what the Queen considered, "close" relationship Artemis had with the royal couple, they were still her superiors and she was her mother's insecure daughter. She didn't even need to concentrate hard to hear that shrill voice play itself like a tape recording in her head.

"Artemis, we're seeing important people, you're really going to go out looking like that?"

Groaning, Artemis quickly yanked a few dresses from her wardrobe, letting them fly haphazardly across the room. Finding a simple black dress, she quickly slipped it on. The one she'd been wearing had stains in undesirable places.

"Ok, ok breathe," she whispered through her excitement, gathering up her notes again. She had to see the King.

Bursting through her doorway, she didn't even bother closing the doors behind her as she flew down the hallway, ignoring the stares of nobility and servants alike. Their genuine disdain for her was no longer a very well-kept secret but it didn't bother the witch anymore. She was far too busy with the spell to care. Artemis had gotten used to disregarding their judgemental stares and unwanted whispers. Catty serving girls liked to sneer at her as they passed, hissing and calling upon the gods, loudly, for their protection to get under her skin. Considering she was the reincarnation of the moon goddess, the witch found it ironically ridiculous. They were all just jealous, bored vultures, trying to add any kind of excitement to their naturally dull existences. Artemis let a small smile creep across her lips as a snippy serving girl stuck her nose up at the passing witch. At least she could do magic.

Finally reaching the throne room, Artemis clumsily caught a page of her notes slipping out of her grasp. If she squinted close enough, she swore she could actually see the guard at the door rolling his eyes. Having had enough, she cocked her head and gave him a haughty glance.

"Do I really have to tell you who I am?"

The guard slowly opened the door and knocked against the ground twice with his long spear.