✓ | Girls of a Feather | #OpenNovellaContest2019

| nineteen |

Aleta

Aleta hated her zus.

She had done everything for her sister, and yet Annemie still insisted on treating her like a little girl. Even though she was mere seconds younger, Aleta would always be the silly, naive one. But she was going to prove Annemie wrong.

Annemie thought Aleta would give up, that she'd run back to their village and cower under her blankets, just as she always did. Well, she was wrong. Even if Aleta hated Elke and Annemie, she couldn't allow them to remain in the witch's thrall.

"You hear that, Antsje Pluk?" Aleta shouted at the shadows. The wind rustled the trees around her, trying to smother her words, but she would not be cowed. "I'm coming for you, witch!"

Hush, child, the wind pleaded. Turn back now before it's not too late. Your sister is searching for you.

"I don't care about her," Aleta sneered, crossing her arms. "I only care about finding the flower and ending the witch."

What's more important, your zus or the witch? the wind asked. 

Aleta didn't hesitate.

"My sister," she answered. "But that's why I have to find Antsje Pluk!"

Turn back now before it's too late, the wind said, repeating its warning. Go to your sister, little girl.

"I'm not a little girl!" Aleta screamed, storming away.

The wind did not follow. It subsided, though its warning remained.

Hot, angry tears burned at the corners of Aleta's eyes, blurring her vision. She went to wipe them away, but before she could, she tripped. This time, Elke wasn't there to save her, and she fell, tumbling down the slope head-over-heels. By the time she rolled to a halt, she could feel the bruises blossoming across her skin. Stupidly, she waited, hoping there would be someone, anyone, to help her to her feet. But there was no one. She had driven them all away.

More tears spilled out of Aleta's eyes, and she let them, licking the salty sorrow as it slipped between her lips. She lay there, staring up at the star-splashed sky and the swollen silver moon, until the pain echoing in her bones dulled to an ache. She pushed herself into a sitting position, reaching for her bag, when she noticed a faint glow.

Aleta got to her feet and squinted, shielding her eyes from the moonlight. At the far end of the glade, a soft lavender light blushed against the shadowed trees. She nearly dropped her bag as she realized what she was seeing. 

It was the flower. She had finally found it.

"Aleta!" a voice called, jolting her out of her joy. Aleta twisted back around to face her sister.

Annemie sat at the base of the cliff, accompanied on both sides by a flock of birds, their feathers gleaming gold, silver, and bronze. Aleta spotted Elke amongst the crowd, but she ignored her, even though she couldn't help but notice how exhausted and shriveled the older girl looked.

"Go away!" she shouted, hating how childish and petty she sounded. "You can't stop me!"

"I just want to-" Annemie began, but she was interrupted by a series of cries as Elke collapsed to the ground in a heap of feathers. "Elke," Annemie whispered, rushing over to comfort her former teacher, "what's wrong?"

"She's dying," Aleta said, and all of the birds swiveled to stare at her.

"Did you do something?" Annemie demanded, her eyes narrowing.

"Of course not!" Aleta snapped, her heartstrings twinging with hurt. How could Annemie accuse her when the real betrayer was lying crumpled at her feet? She crossed her arms, the urgency returning to her voice. "Antsje Pluk cursed her. If I don't take the flower by dawn, Elke will die." Aleta's words sent whispers spreading through the gathered birds like wildfire.

"Why does Antsje Pluk want you to steal the flower?" Annemie mused, her eyes thinning in concentration.

"Does it matter?" Aleta cried exasperatedly, nodding toward the paling sky. "We're running out of time! I have to save you all before it's too late." She turned and started walking, ignoring the protests of her sister. She heard a flurry of wings and burst into a sprint, glancing at the flock of birds flying toward her. Aleta ran faster and faster, the purple glow growing closer and closer until she could trace each individual petal of the flower. Finally, she lunged forward, ripping the flower from the ground and cradling it in her arms as she skidded into the dirt. "Ha!" she crowed, pushing herself up and turning around to shoot her sister a victorious look.

Annemie and her fellow birds stood in a line as if pressed against an invisible wall. Their mouths moved up and down as if they were shouting, but Aleta couldn't hear anything.

A chill shivered down her spine. Something wasn't right. Why wasn't Antsje Pluk guarding the flower if it was the key to destroying her? Why was Aleta the only one who could get close? Aleta squinted at her sister, but she still couldn't understand. Finally, she made out one word: run.

She whirled around, but it was too late. Antsje Pluk towered in front of her, a wicked, wicked smile curling across her cheeks.

"Silly, meisje," the heks simpered, her smile tilting sympathetically. "I should give Elke more credit. She played her part well, hm?" Aleta shot a look at the older girl, but she lay prone on the ground, too deathly to move.

"No!" Aleta cried, shaking her head. She refused to believe that everything she had done had been for nothing. She refused to believe that the flower wouldn't save her sister. It couldn't be true. Aleta shoved the flower toward Antsje Pluk, praying it would do something, anything, but to no avail. "No," she whispered, ducking her head as the witch glided closer.

"Meisje, give it to me," the witch cooed, her voice dripping with silk and honey. "It's useless to you, so there's no point in holding on to it. Give it to me, and I'll set your sister and her friends free." 

Aleta jerked her head back up. Even though she couldn't see Annemie, she could her zus' voice in her head, screaming at her to turn her back and run. But if there was a chance Antsje Pluk told the truth, then Aleta had to give her the flower. She needed to make it up to Annemie. She couldn't fail again.

"Ok," Aleta whispered. "I'll give you the flower." 

The witch's eyes glinted, and she waved her hand. With the invisible barrier now gone, Annemie's desperate shouts rang in the air.

"Please, Aleta!" she cried, her voice raw and broken. "Please, don't do it!"

But Aleta didn't listen.

She held out her hand, the crumpled flower unfurling in her palm. Aleta squeezed her eyes shut as Antsje Pluk lifted the blossom from her hands, the witch's warm, cinnamon breath tickling her cheek. After a pause, the witch withdrew, but Aleta's heartbeat didn't slow.

"I'm free," Antsje Pluk whispered, igniting fear in Aleta's heart. What had she done? Oh god, what had she done?

She cracked her eyes open just in time to see the heks framed against the dawn-streaked sky, shadows twining around her thick form. A blink, and she was gone, eaten by the darkness.

[ a / n ]

dun dun dun! and the climax is officially over, with only one more chapter to go.

please feel free to leave reactions, suggestions, predictions, etc as you read! i'd love to hear them <3

as always, thank you all so much for reading! it's been an amazing journey, and even if i don't win the Open Novella Contest, i'm so glad i decided to enter and penned this story <3