Ashley woke from a disturbing dream with her right cheek pressed against cold stone. In the dream, a coven of veiled witches surrounded her, with a rather cruel sorceress definitively stating that she wanted to 'get rid of' Ashley's new friends.

As someone who had never had such a thing as a friend, she could not allow this to happen. She had to help her pals escape. But how could she, a non-powerful, ordinary princess, evade the all-powerful witches who had abducted them and brought them to their inescapable fortress?

Luckily this was only a dream and not in any way real.

"I think she's awake," came a soft voice.

Ashley fluttered open her left eye to find herself lying on the cold stone floor inside the fortress with a bunch of veiled witches turned toward her. They were like brides of death in their black robes and black veils.

Despite the multiple fires crackling in the room, Ashley shivered. The harsh smoke dried her nostrils. "I'm still sleeping," Ashley said.

"No, you're awake," said the witch with the whispery voice.

"I'm pretty sure that's not true," Ashley said, lifting her head. "Because you're all still here."

"You're sure she's the one, High Priestess?" came a muffled voice from behind a veil.

"Yes," she sighed. "I know, she does seem rather disappointing."

"Sorry, I am such a disappointment. But if you are real, I'd appreciate it if you let me and my friends go. We have some important revenge activities to take care of and an uprising to settle."

"Oh, Princess Ashley, you are amusing," the High Priestess laughed. It sounded like two pieces of dry parchment sliding against one another.

Ashley managed to stand again, brushing off her pants. While brushing back her hair, she noticed her cheeks carried the impression of a stone floor. Her head still felt woozy, so she spread out her arms to balance herself. She didn't want to look weak in front of the witches. "I see what happened here," Ashley said. "A simple case of mistaken identity. Honestly, no problem. It happens to the best of us."

The High Priestess gripped the thorny black arms of her throne with her talon-tipped fingers and leaned forward. Ashley's toes unfroze and curled inside her boots, waiting for the thorns to draw blood. Nothing happened. Apparently, witches didn't bleed. They probably had magic running through their veins, which, if you thought about it, would be much better. Magic didn't leave stubborn stains on clothes like blood.

"Anyway," Ashley continued, "my name is ... uh ... Asher, and I'm a groom in the Prince's entourage. If you don't return me immediately, I'm sure bad things will happen to you all. Like the Prince will totally get mad at you for abducting his ... er ... favorite groom. But if you let me and my friends go, hey, I won't say anything. It'll be like it never happened. Where are they anyway?"

"Did you miss the part where we told you we are fully aware who you are?" the Priestess said, in such a cold tone that icicles formed on her throne. "That we are powerful witches who wield magic and shape the world to our whim?"

Ashley gulped. "No, I heard that part, but ..."

"You may fool the prince, but you don't fool us, Princess." She waved her hand and replaced Ashley's disguise with one of the black mourning gowns worn by the witches but without the handy bridal veil. She could've used it right now to hide her expression of fear. Perhaps she should've quit with the ruse about three paragraphs ago.

Plus, having magic done to you when you're not prepared is off-putting. Although getting clean clothes was a lot easier to swallow than being translocated or whatever they called it.

Ashley tried to speak, but wearing a corset again after all the non-constricted time made any movement painful. She sucked in a breath at the sudden squeezing. "What do you want?" Ashley finally managed to say. "And can you loosen this corset? I can barely breathe." Another wave of the High Priestess's arm and Ashley could once again welcome air into her lungs. "Thanks."

When she adjusted her skirts and stepped back, her heels rat-a-tatted against the stones. She lifted the black ruffled hem. Glass slippers. Seriously? What is it with magical beings and their affinity for uncomfortable footwear? Ashley almost asked for a shoe switch, but upon reflection, she decided not to. Being the daughter of an evil stepmonster and two cruel stepsisters made Ashley wary of pushing her luck.

"Don't mention it. Do you know why you're here?"

"Is it about that prophecy?"

"Partly. My familiar, Tina," the witch indicated the owl, "told me you rejected my gift."

What a tattle-tale. Tina could've at least softened the blow by adding how much Ashley appreciated the offer.

"I," Ashley said. "I explained to ... uh ..."

"Tina. The owl. No need to pretend. We know of your animal communication abilities."

Ashley wrinkled her forehead. "How do you know so much about me when I had never even heard of you until yesterday?"

"Because we know all those who've been touched with magic. It's part of our corporate mission statement."

"I'm not touched by anything except maybe by insanity. Where are my friends? I need to find them and get back to Ever After before the villagers storm the castle, and there are untold deaths. Please?" She sighed. Tell me the prophecy. I'm sorry I was so troublesome about it. I want to hear it."

"Glad you see things my way," the High Priestess said. "The envelope, please." She held out her taloned hand, and a golden envelope appeared. Opening the envelope, she cleared her throat and read:

"Are you kidding?" Ashley said.

"Why would I kid? Death is serious."

"Possible death," Ashley corrected.

"Sure, possible death," the witch agreed.

"You just repeated my own fake prophecy," Ashley said.

"What do you mean?"

"I made that up and told it to Tina. As a joke. You copied."

"Is this true, Tina?" The owl nodded.

"Interesting development," the witch said. "Not just an animal communicator, she's also a prognosticator."

"Huh?"

"An oracle? Prophet? Soothsayer?"

Ashley's head throbbed as she attempted to absorb this information. "Sorry, you've lost me."

"I'm saying you might have additional magical abilities that we need to investigate. Perform a few magical tests. Perhaps you are one of us. A witch."

Ashley remembered only a few hours ago when she wanted to join the witches. Now all she wanted was to return to her kingdom while she had a kingdom to return to. And she couldn't possibly be a prognosticator. They must've set this up. The owl gave Ashley's stupid prediction to the witches, and that's how it got in the envelope. But to free her friends and escape, it made sense to meet the High Priestess halfway. "Interesting. But I can't be experimented on right now. I have a kingdom to save. I promise I'll come back later, though."

"Doesn't work for me," the High Priestess said.

"It has to. I'm afraid I'm fully booked. But I can fit you into my schedule sometime after the uprising and before the Inter-Kingdom Games. Maybe."

"We have been waiting for you for a long time, missy. I had almost given up hope of you joining us."

"Joining? No. Way. Remember the part about me going back to save hundreds of innocent souls?"

Was that actual steam coming out of the High Priestess's ears? Ashley ought to have had more common sense than to reject the demands of a high-level witch so tersely. Like evil stepmothers, fleam*-carrying doctors, and unicorns, it's never wise to aggravate anyone with access to sharp implements of pain.

The High Priestess stood. "If you're too busy to come back for further testing, we're going to have to take care of it now." She waved her hands. The wall behind her opened, revealing Ashley's three friends dangling upside-down from the ceiling on what appeared to be sinewy strands of spider silk, a claw-footed cauldron situated beneath each royal, roiled with sulfurous-smelling liquid. Orange flames from beneath the pots danced and licked against the black iron.

"Are you kidding?" Ashley croaked, needles of anger stabbing at her throat as if she'd swallowed an acre of blackberry brambles. "This is the test? Let. Them. Down."

"You do it," the High Priestess purred.

"Ash!" Derek cried. His face had a red tinge instead of the normal green, and his legs shook.

"Derek, how could you let them do this to you?" Ashley pulled at her hair.

"They were convincing," Derek wheezed. "I believe it had something to do with them being all-powerful, magical beings, and us being unmagical beings. If that makes sense."

"I'm definitely going to have ankle bruises," Layyin grunted. "Isn't that cool?"

"It is not cool," Ashley said.

"You can free us," Sadira grunted. "I know you can."

Ashley ran to her friends. The stench from the cauldrons nearly killed her. Grabbing the edge of the cauldron beneath Layyin, Ashley screamed. "That's hot!" Blisters already forming, she removed her shoes. Using them as potholders, she attempted to push the cauldron over. It wouldn't budge.

"That won't work," the High Priestess said in a bored tone, as she filed her talons to perfect points.

"Then, what will work?" Ashley said at the end of her rope. Well, in her case, a metaphorical rope.

"You free them."

"I love that idea," Derek said.

The poor prince looked as if he might faint. "A hint on how to execute this command might be helpful."

"Use your powers."

"What powers."

One of the lower witches raised her arm. "High Priestess, perhaps we should dangle her over a cauldron as well? There's a party in Cave 106, and a bunch of us want to join."

"I'm having my moment, Marsha. Quiet!" The High Priestess sliced through the air with her talon-tipped fingers. "I am testing a potential acolyte."

"It's only that she doesn't seem like witch material. This test is taking way too long."

"Hello!" Ashley said, waving her hand. "I don't want to be an acolyte. Witches are evil."

"We are not!" Marsha said, clenching her fists.

Ashley looked pointedly at her dangling friends who were dropping ever closer to the boiling liquid. Derek squeezed his eyes closed.

"I'll make you a deal," the High Priestess said.

"I don't negotiate with terrorists," Ashley said. "Free them, and then we'll talk."

"She can't do it," Marsha said. The other veiled witches nodded in agreement.

"Maybe we're not approaching it right," the High Priestess said. "Different witches respond to different stimuli. Here's my final offer. Free your friends, and I shall let them go."

Marsha stepped in front of Ashley, her breath reeking of garlic and what smelled like a dark magic ingredient, like eye of newt. "I don't think she's the one from the prophecy."

"Of course, she is. I never make mistakes," the High Priestess said, the liquid in the cauldrons bubbling ever faster. "She is a witch, like her mother, Cecelia, before her. I made a promise to her, and I will release Ashley's powers! Now do it, Princess!"

"But ..."

The ends of Layyin's hair dipped into the cauldron. "Eeeep!"

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