The Queen Of All Strange Things

33

The next morning was a living nightmare. I had no idea how or why my hair was rooted on the ground. The only single braid in which I kept my hair in was stuck in the soil as if the ground sucked it.

'Andrew,' I screamed.

Andrew woke up with a start and stared at me as if he has seen a ghost. 'Wha_'

'Pull it off!'

He quickly ran up to me, grabbed my hair and pulled. 'It won't bulge.' Andrew let go. Then I felt something pull my hair deeper underground.

'Andrew!'

'We have to cut it.'

'What? No!'

Andrew dug the dagger from out of my backpack. I yanked my hair, but it was no use. Something is really wrong with this place! With a swipe of a dagger, my hair was chopped off.

'Ooop,' said Andrew. 'I guess I cut too much of it.'

I stood up, feeling a big weight leave my head when I say my braid, my beautiful black braid sink into the ground.

I must have given off some scary murderous aura that Andrew dropped the dagger and stammered, 'L-let's g-get out of here. Sh-shall we?'

I picked up Cleo before something pulls her tail. We woke up Salzar who was still asleep even after my scream and flew off.

'Why in such haste?'

'Something... pulled Amethyst's hair underground.'

That was enough explanation for Salzar.

'The imagination of man and bring about many... curious things in this side,' said Salzar.

After a while of silence, I tried to feel my hair. It was short. So short only shoulder length and very unevenly cut. Now my hair flew all over my face. I hated it when it does that. I felt like crying and strangling Andrew at the same time.

'It will grow back,' said Andrew.

'Sure,' I said, feeling my voice weaver. 'It will grow back.'

Andrew didn't say a word after that.

At about eight in the morning, we reached the invisible London. It looked very gothic and Victorian with dark alley ways, carriages and a stormy atmosphere. I also caught sight of the Big Ben from above. I guess it was one of the relics.

Salzar dropped us behind a museum before anyone could notice us. Lucky for us, cloaked figures was not something uncommon in London. And we spent the whole morning asking every human like person we saw whether there was any streets famous for having bakeries. Most of them grunted while some ignores us. Some shook their head.

'It's useless asking warlocks and witches,' said Andrew.

'Wait, witches?'

'London is famous for wizards and sort. They are a very secretive and proud.'

'But it won't kill them to help someone when it comes to directions!'

The next time we met a wizard or warlock or whoever, I used my enchanter's voice. Just a bit so that they wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, no one knew.