Belle walked down the convoluted maze of hallways that criss-crossed through the World Tree. The wood of the walls seamlessly conjoined with the floor, as though the tree had grown to accommodate the tunnels themselves. Indeed, this was the case. Through the influence of magical persuasion, the witches were able to create whatever structure they wished within the interior of the tree. It was condemned by some as tampering with a being beyond their power, but it was convenient, so it was still being used today.

Taking several deep breaths as she strode towards the hearing chamber, Belle tried to calm herself down. There was nothing for her to panic over, it was all going to be fixed as soon as the crones remembered to do their job. She repeated that over and over in her head, but it did a poor job of convincing herself. When she arrived at the door to the chamber, she felt more nervous than when she had set off for it.

The door opened, without her having to knock. Belle inwardly groaned, and walked into the chamber. It was just like them to be unnecessarily flashy.

The hearing chamber was just as marvelous as the first time she’d seen it. Massive pillars of wood rose up from the floor, with large holes in them to house the Council’s offices. Five stood in total, surrounding a small, perfect circle that was drawn in the center of the room. All of the holes overlooked the circle, and in each hole stood a Councilwoman. Belle, with a rush that belied her urgency, marched inside the circle.

Slowly, she got down on her knees, and placed her hat on the ground. It was a symbol of submission, the only kind of greeting that the Council accepted. “I humbly seek the Council’s advice. I have brought news of the situation regarding the intruder.”

The witch in the pillar of wood in front of her, with a noticeably higher cavity than the rest of the spires, said, “You may rise.” Her voice was not terribly loud, but it carried over the distance as though the wind itself favored it.

Belle rose to her feet, and looked at the witch who had spoken to her. She had long, black hair, and a timeless face that made it difficult to guess her age. “Hello, Mother.” Belle worked hard not to show any emotion on her face.

The Grovemother inspected her with cold eyes, and asked, “Greetings, daughter. Have you fixed your mistake yet?”

Acrid words formed on Belle’s tongue, but she swallowed them. It looked like her mother hadn’t changed in the least. “I’m afraid that we have larger problems than that.” She allowed a grim look to spread over her face. “As far as I can tell, the barrier is on the verge of collapsing altogether. The site where the intruder had entered was clearly the weakest, as there is a massive hole in the barrier.”

Her mother narrowed her eyes. “And why do you think that is?”

Belle met her stare. “Dara said he thinks that it’s because there was a ritual that the Council forgot to perform. I don’t know whether or not it’s true, but something needs to be done.”

There was a second of silence. Then, her mother casted a spell.

When the Grovemother casted a spell, it was a thing of beauty to observe. There was no wasted time or words. All she did was wave her fingers in the air, and the spell weaved itself into existence, as though magic itself obeyed her. The air grew thick, and everything grew hazy. Belle felt her own body weighed down. It was a silencing field, where only those inside could hear what was said. Only Belle and her mother were inside.

The Grovemother’s words cut through with ease. “Daughter, I apologize that I haven’t told you this before. I’m afraid that you’re correct. The ritual is necessary for the barrier’s reconstruction. But it is impossible to do so.”

The anger that had been building inside of Belle overflowed at that moment. She snapped, “What do you mean, impossible? It has to be possible. If we don’t, then there won’t be a Grove.”

Her mother remained silent, her eyes conveying an immense sorrow. Belle let out a small gasp; the scene told her more than words could ever tell.

And then all of her emotions came bursting forth at once. “And you’re just going to let that happen?” She screamed in incredulity. “You’re just going to give up on your job and let this place crumble to dust? How could you?”

“We’re doing no such thing, Belle.” Her mother’s tone was sharp, but Belle was beyond caring. “We have several precautions in place, which will certainly buy us some time, and-”

“Buy you time? Time to do what? If you don’t perform that ritual, then we’re all going to die.” A hint of desperation entered Belle’s voice. “If it’s materials that you need then I’ll go and find them. I’ll strangle Dara for that tear if I have to. Just tell me what I have to do.”

The Grovemother shook her head. “It’s not the materials that are the problem. They are expensive, but the Council has been building up our stock for millenia. No, the problem is the ritual itself.” She let out a deep sigh, and for the first time in her life, Belle saw her mother’s true age leak through. In front of her was no longer the spry, commanding witch, but an old, burdened woman. “Not a decade ago, when we began to prepare for the ritual, a traitor rose from among our ranks. She stole the document that gave the steps for it. I never saw her face; she was cloaked.”

“So? Make a new one. Do something!” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Belle knew they were empty. It wasn’t so easy to craft a ritual, and some could be thousands of pages long. There simply wasn’t enough time for them to finish something of that size before the barrier came crashing down.

A pair of defeated eyes stared at her, and Belle felt the rage build inside of her. “Fine, you need the document? I’ll go get it. What, she left the Grove? It’s not like it would be impossible for me to find it.”

Not impossible, Belle thought, but very unlikely. A witch that was able to betray the Grove and get away was not a foe that could be trifled with. There was no telling how far they had gone, or whether she would even survive an encounter with them. That didn’t mean that she was just going to roll over and let it happen.

The Grovemother hesitated. “We have already sent out some of our best in pursuit, but it doesn’t seem likely that we’re going to get it back. Perhaps your talents would be best focused on-”

“On what? Digging our inevitable graves?” Belle snarled. “You say you sent out some of our best, but you never sent out the best. You know that I’m the best person to send out, so why haven’t you?”

Her question was met with silence.

“You’ve always underestimated me. You’ve always thought that I was weak and helpless, no matter how hard I try. I know that I’m better than anybody else my age, so why don’t you? Why do you refuse to acknowledge me, Mother?” Belle felt the hot bite of tears in her eyes, and realized that there no amount of persuasion would help. “I’m going, with or without your permission. I bid you a good day.” And just like that, Belle picked up her hat and stormed out of the room.

Maude closed her eyes, and buried her face in her hands. It had been a frustrating day, but there were few things worse than a chick leaving the nest. She resisted the urge to storm after her daughter, to apologize, but she couldn’t ignore the stabbing pain in her chest. With a wave of her fingers, the silencing field was removed, and the voices of the other Councilwomen reached her ears once more.

A cackle came from the oldest among them, a crone that stood to Maude’s immediate right. “I told you, there’s no protecting the young'uns when they want to leave. They’ll fly away, whether you allow them or not.”

Maude gave her a glare. “It’s difficult to pretend that you’re not worried when the rest of the forest is on fire.”

“And you think that the tree you live on isn’t?” The crone cackled even harder, which annoyed Maude a great deal. “Face the facts, we’re in as much danger in the Grove as we would be outside. If that wasn’t true, we wouldn’t be drawing up battleplans, would we?”

Maude felt a headache coming on, and not for the first time that day, was feeling the true load of her age. “At least here, I know what kind of trouble she’s going to get into. This is the first time that she’s going to leave, and I don’t think there’s ever been a worse time for a pilgrimage.”

The crone’s face grew sympathetic. “Ah. The crusades.” A beat of silence passed, and she said, “Well, Belle’s a smart girl. She’ll figure out a disguise, and she’ll have Dara with her. I doubt any amount of trouble could get her killed.”

“You don’t understand, Batiya.” Maude shook her head. “She’s off chasing one of the most dangerous witches in the world. She defeated me in a duel.”

“She caught you off-guard.”

“Still, the point remains. I just sent my daughter off on the most dangerous goose chase on Earth, and here I am, with no means of stopping her.”

A deep, raspy voice came from Maude’s left. “No means of stopping her? You could always imprison her. Our dungeons are depressingly empty right now.”

Maude stiffened at the voice, and pointedly said, “Unlike you, I’ll refrain from hurting my family.” The cloaked figure who said it only giggled eerily.

With a sigh, the Grovemother conjured the map of the Grove, projected so that all of the Council could see it. “Let’s get back to work, shall we? Defenses won’t erect themselves.”

###

Belle was seething with anger. Every stomp she took belied her rage, and the evil scowl on her face even more so. Every witch, fairy and beast within a hundred feet felt a strong desire to stay away from her, and so her path through Yggdrasil was empty, with no punching bags on which to inflict her fury.

The further she walked, the harder it was to stay angry. The desperation and doubt that swam directly below it began to surface. Belle stopped in the middle of the hallway, and she felt one tear slide down her face, then another. She began to sniffle as reality hit her. Her home was about to be destroyed.

But she didn’t cry for more than a minute. Her tears were locked away, and she felt an overwhelming calm take over. Along with it, a grim determination. There was no failure on this mission, no backup plan. Either she came back victorious, or the Grove was destroyed. With a new fire in her step, she made her way back to where she’d left the dragon.

Dara was currently taking a nap. He’d expected to be out for a couple of years at least, maybe a decade at most, so when he was woken up not a blink of an eye later he was quite irritated. “Why can’t you mortals learn to let sleeping dragons lie?” He let out a large yawn.

“Sorry, Dara.” Belle’s words were more hollow and depressed than they had been when she left. Dara gave her a sidelong glance.

“I’m guessing that the news wasn’t good?”

“No.” Belle sighed, and explained what happened during the meeting. “I’m afraid that we’re reaching the end of our time with the Grove.”

The dragon simply let out a bark of laughter. “That’s the best joke that I’ve heard all day!” Belle didn’t laugh.

“Oh, come on,” Dara complained. “Do you really think that this is the tightest situation that the Grove has driven itself into? This doesn’t even reach the top five. I’ve seen wars and death and betrayal. Do you really think that we’re going to be brought down by a mere rogue witch?” He snorted with contempt. “Perhaps you’re more immature than I thought you were."

Belle cracked a half smile, her despair slowly but surely fading as the conversation progressed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Plus, now they have the Grove’s best on their tail. It won’t be more than a minute until they’re groveling at our feet.”

“There you go. Now you truly have a dragon’s pride!” Dara let out a warcry, a thunderous roar that shook Yggdrasil to its roots. Belle yelled her own, a wholehearted roar that echoed around the room. She let out a peal of giggles, and jumped onto the dragon’s back. With a light soul and a clear mind, she made her way out into the real world.