Colonials and Indians

“Do you really let them scrub your back in the tub?” Alexandra asked Julia the next morning, as they headed downstairs to breakfast. Deezie had once again been on hand from the moment she woke up, offering to help her dress, bathe, brush her hair, and even clean Charlie's cage. Alexandra was still trying to figure out how to shoo away the overly-helpful house-elf without hurting her feelings.

“Oh, not since I was eight!” Julia laughed. “And I'm sure Max doesn't either. But they miss being our nannies and playmates. If Deezie pesters you too much, you can always banish her from your room.”

Alexandra frowned.

“But Olina does the most excellent braids – we should see what she can do with your hair, when we go to the Cotillion.” Julia reached out to casually comb her fingers through the back of Alexandra's hair, as if considering what to do with it. Alexandra didn't really mind the touching, but the idea of 'doing something' with her hair made her uneasy.

“What are you wearing, young lady?” asked Great-Aunt Virginia from her portrait, appalled. None of the Kings' ancestors seemed to think highly of witches wearing Muggle jeans and shirts.

“It's more comfortable for riding in,” Alexandra told the old woman, and then hurried downstairs so as not to receive a lecture from a painting.

“Doesn't it ever... bother you, having house-elves serving you?” she asked, in a quieter voice, as they came to the bottom of the stairs.

Julia blinked at her in surprise. “Have you been listening to those people from ASPEW?” she asked, as they entered the breakfast room. “We have a few Radicalists at Salem, too. I think they're very well-intentioned, but I've never met an ASPEW member who actually grew up with house-elves. You just don't understand them.”

“Of course she doesn't. She grew up with Muggles,” commented Maximilian, who was already seated at the breakfast table.

“You know, just because I grew up with Muggles doesn't make me ignorant,” Alexandra retorted, annoyed.

Julia looked taken aback, and one of the other house-elves, who had just Apparated into the room with fresh coffee and a plate of serviceberry strudel, looked worried.

“Of course not.” Ms. King entered the room, and Alexandra bit her tongue. Maximilian had provoked her, but she hadn't meant to criticize her hosts. “And I understand your concerns about house-elves.”

“You do?” Alexandra sat down slowly, opposite Ms. King.

“Miss Alexandra should not be concerned about us,” said Rolly, appearing at her side to offer her some strudel. “We is treated very well here. We love Mistress and her children.”

Alexandra took a pastry, while Ms. King said, “In times past, house-elves were often treated poorly. Your father, when he was a Congressman, was one of the writers of the House-Elf Protection Act.”

“Master Thorn was good to house-elves,” whispered Rolly. “You don't listen to nasty people who says nasty things about Miss's father!”

“But aren't they still –” Alexandra glanced at Rolly, and bit her tongue, before the word 'slaves' could escape.

“The magic that binds them is ancient,” Ms. King told her. “We can't simply undo the compact between wizards and elves by setting them all free. Surely you know that they regard that as the most horrible of punishments?”

Indeed, Rolly was now cringing.

Alexandra nodded. “But does that mean ASPEW is all wrong? They're just stupid?”

“Yes,” Maximilian scoffed, but his mother gave him an admonishing look, and he closed his mouth.

“Not at all.” Ms. King sipped fresh hot coffee, and set her cup down, with a smile. “They have the noblest of intentions, and they have brought about reforms. But ancient ways change only slowly, and it's not wise to rush to change things you don't understand.” She studied Alexandra a moment, and then said, in a kindly tone, “You do have a lot of your father in you.”

Alexandra wasn't entirely sure whether Ms. King thought that was a good thing or not.

They talked about the horses as they finished breakfast, and Julia mentioned the Cotillion again, to which her mother told her simply, “Don't pester, Julia.”

In truth, Alexandra was a bit sore from the hours she'd spent horseback riding yesterday, but she was eager to resume her lessons and actually go flying. When they reached the stables, however, her siblings saddled up and then left her behind, while Mr. Hunter made her walk Halosydne in circles.

Maximilian and Julia had already taken to the air on their mounts. They were both skilled riders, soaring through the air with ease and grace. Alexandra hated feeling like a child watching the big kids play, as she trotted around the meadow on the hill, with her brother and sister circling overhead. She was no longer worried about falling off, and Halo was beginning to respond to her commands, verbal and non-verbal.

Ms. King joined them in the afternoon, just as Alexandra, impatient with what she thought were 'baby steps' being imposed by Sam, urged Halo off the ground. Her mount leaped into the air with a bemused snort, as Sam shouted at her. Girl and Granian went soaring away from the meadow and out over the forest. Halo whinnied as she spread her wings, and Alexandra grinned. Riding a flying horse was even better than flying a broom!

Then Mr. Hunter whistled, and Halo wheeled around and descended back towards the grass at the bottom of the hill. She cleared the treetops and landed just at the edge of the forest. Alexandra sighed, as she saw the old wizard walking down the hill towards them, looking angry.

Maximilian descended from the sky on his own mount, scowling fiercely.

“You do what Sam tells you!” he yelled at her. “You don't take off on your own like that because you're impatient!”

Alexandra looked at her brother calmly, though she was perturbed to see Maximilian's temper returning. “All we did was glide around in a circle. Easier than flying a broom.”

“You go flying off on a Granian before you know how to control her, you could get yourself killed!”

She smiled at him. “Not likely. I am a witch.”

Maximilian's face turned red, but two more horses came in for a landing then, as Julia and her mother settled on either side of Alexandra and Halo.

“Maximilian, stop shouting at your sister,” Ms. King chided. Alexandra's gratitude was short-lived, when Ms. King turned to her and said, in that same calm tone of voice, “While you're a guest here, Alexandra, I expect you to follow the rules of this household, and that includes doing as you're told by adults. If you ever disobey Mr. Hunter again, that will be the last time you ride a Granian at Croatoa. Do you understand me?”

Alexandra hung her head. “Yes,” she mumbled. Being reproved by Ms. King, in front of Maximilian and Julia, was worse than being yelled at or lectured.

“Yes, ma'am,” Maximilian hissed at her.

“That's enough, Maximilian. There's no need to embarrass her further.” The King matriarch smiled at the three teenagers. “I thought Alexandra might like to see some more of the island. I've been watching, and Samuel agrees that she's ready to fly – with supervision.” She looked at Alexandra sternly. “You will follow us, and not go right or left or up or down without my say-so. Stay with us, and no stunts. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Alexandra replied.

Julia smiled at her, and as they all took off again, she pointed her wand at Maximilian, who was riding alongside his mother, leaving the two girls to bring up the rear. 'BIG SNARLY JERK' appeared in shiny silver letters on the back of his jacket.

Alexandra snickered. Julia giggled, and Maximilian cast a suspicious glance over his shoulder at them. When he looked ahead again, Julia winked at Alexandra, and Alexandra winked back.

The island on which Croatoa was located ran north-south, and was much narrower at the southern tip, where the Muggle town was located. On their Granians, Alexandra and the Kings had to stay close to the treetops as they flew south, and Ms. King told her they were not allowed to be airborne within sight of the town during daylight hours. They flew over several other houses, all of them big and old, but none so grand and well-maintained as Croatoa. Maximilian told Alexandra that their neighbors raised winged goats and blue bulls. She wasn't sure she believed him, but she nodded. They passed over a wizard-tobacco plantation, where most of the work seemed to be done by elves. None of them looked up at the flying riders overhead, though a young man in a sweat-soaked shirt, using his wand to cut and bundle tobacco leaves, returned a cautious wave.

“That's Fred,” said Julia. “We used to play with him and his sister, before he went off to school.”

“And before the Jameses found out who our father was,” Maximilian remarked.

Julia frowned, and looked away.

Alexandra thought she saw some structures in the woods, too – there were crumbling stone walls, and here and there, some wooden shacks, cabins, occasionally a log fence. When she asked about them, Julia shrugged. “Most of those buildings are ancient and abandoned.”

“Don't ever venture into the woods alone, Alexandra,” Ms. King told her. “It's not safe.”

She nodded, and noticed Maximilian giving her another suspicious look, as if he were worried that Alexandra would now be seized with a desire to go exploring in the woods.

When they returned to Croatoa, and landed in front of the stable, it was late in the afternoon. Alexandra and Maximilian and Julia helped Sam and the elves put the horses up this time, and then they all returned to the house to bathe before dinner. Alexandra told Deezie, one more time, that she didn't need any help bathing. The house-elf had restored her room to perfection while she was out – bed made, clothes in drawers, Charlie's cage as clean and sparkling as new, with a fresh water dish and a bowl full of food scraps, and the bathroom spotless. Alexandra grimaced as she realized that if she didn't do it herself, the elf would. Unless she banished Deezie from her room, which was tempting, except the poor elf looked unhappy enough when she was banished from the bathroom while Alexandra was in it.

I am definitely not telling David about this, she thought, as she leaned back in her tub and soaked in the hot bubble bath Deezie had prepared for her.

From Julia's room, she heard a shriek of indignation.

“YOU BEAST! YOU HORRIBLE, STEAMING PILE OF WHALE GUTS!”

From Maximilian's room came laughter.

Alexandra slid deeper into the water, and closed her eyes, with a little smile. Maximilian must have found the writing on his shirt, and done something in retribution. She and Julia would have to plot counter-revenge tonight.

Julia came down to dinner wearing a high-collared, long-sleeved robe, but Alexandra could see blue letters, like tattoo ink, on her neck and wrists. She gave Maximilian a murderous glare.

“It will fade in a few days,” Maximilian said calmly.

“Do I want to know what that shrieking upstairs was about?” Ms. King asked, as she joined her children in the dining room.

“No, Mother,” Julia and Maximilian replied together.

“Hmm.” She sat down, glanced at Julia, her eyes taking in the writing showing beneath the hems of her robe, and then shook her head. “I certainly hope that's going to fade by Saturday. It won't do for you to be looking like a walking scroll at the Cotillion.”

Julia froze, and almost dropped her glass of water. Then her face lit up.

“Really?” She looked hopefully at her mother. “Do you really mean we can go?”

“It will be a good experience for Alexandra. And the two of you.”

Julia squealed, and got up from her seat to run around the table and embrace her mother. “Oh, thank you, Mother! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Ms. King laughed gently, and squeezed her daughter. Alexandra glanced at Maximilian, and saw that he was not smiling.

“This means no more cursing each other between now and Saturday,” Ms. King scolded. “You're both getting too old for this foolishness anyway.”

“Yes, Mother,” Julia and Maximilian responded.

Julia turned to look at Alexandra, eyes shining brightly. “Oh, Alexandra, isn't it wonderful?”

“I guess. Umm, what exactly is a Cotillion?” Alexandra asked.

“It's a formal dance,” Maximilian informed her. “All of Roanoke high society will be there. Including families who know who we are, Julia.”

“Oh, fie! All you ever talk about is how horrible it will be if anyone finds out who our father is!” Julia turned her nose up disdainfully at her brother. “Well, Mother doesn't think it will be so bad, do you, Mother?”

“I think you all need to face the reaction of your peers sooner or later,” Ms. King replied, with a very mild, almost impassive, expression.

“I don't know how to dance,” Alexandra mumbled uneasily.

“Maximilian and I can teach you.” Julia was beaming with excitement, as the house-elves brought dinner to the table. “Oh, Mother, we have to go shopping! I need new robes –”

“The hundred or so you have in your closet aren't enough?” Maximilian asked dryly.

“– and we need to get formal robes for Alexandra too!” Julia continued, ignoring her brother.

“Those are kind of like... dresses, aren't they?” Alexandra asked, a frown creasing her brow.

“We'll go to New Roanoke tomorrow,” Ms. King promised.

“I don't wear dresses,” Alexandra said.

“Oh, don't be silly,” Julia replied. “This is a Cotillion, you have to dress properly! And we'll have Olina do your hair –”

“What do you mean, do my hair?” Alexandra was becoming more alarmed by the second.

“– and I'll help make up your face, and we can choose some nice perfume and earrings while we're in New Roanoke –”

“I am not wearing a dress, or makeup, or perfume or earrings!” Alexandra protested.

“Did you bring your JROC uniform?” Maximilian asked casually, lifting a fork to his mouth. “Witches from BMI wear their dress uniforms.”

Alexandra shook her head.

“Then I guess you're going to wear a dress,” he said smugly.

“Formal robes!” Julia corrected him, with a glower. “Don't worry, Alexandra, you're going to look beautiful. Oh, I can't wait!”

Alexandra gave Maximilian a dirty look. He'd gone from sullen and taciturn to bemused. He winked at her. She didn't wink back.

She didn't want to argue with Julia, or seem ungrateful, in front of Ms. King, but as the three teenagers walked back upstairs for the evening, she tried to broach the subject again.

“Julia, the Cotillion sounds... fun, I guess, but I'm not really into all that... girly stuff.”

Julia, on the step above her, turned around and arched her eyebrows.

“What do you mean? You are a girl, aren't you?”

“Well, yes.” She tried to ignore Maximilian's snickering, behind her. “But I don't wear dresses and makeup, or earrings. That's for –”

“Girls?” Julia asked archly.

Alexandra exhaled slowly, frowning.

“Is there something wrong with being a girl, Alexandra?”

“Of course not!” she replied indignantly.

“Oh, I know you're something of a tomboy.” Julia sighed, and patted her shoulder. Alexandra could see blue letters crawling up the other girl's neck. Something ending with '-erbrain.' “But you're thirteen, now! The Cotillion will be your first appearance in wizarding society as a witch.”

“And yours,” Maximilian commented.

“Yes, and that's why it's important for both of us to look gorgeous!” Julia smiled brightly at her siblings, and then continued up the stairs.

“I'm not sure I want to look gorgeous,” Alexandra replied, following her. “Even if I could.”

“Oh, you can, and you will! You're going to be dressed up beautifully, like a girl.” And as Alexandra opened her mouth, Julia spun about, held up a hand, and said firmly, “Now, don't argue with me, Alexandra, because you will lose. I won't hear another word.” For a moment, she sounded very much like her mother. Then she leaned forward and put her arms around the younger girl. “But trust me, you're going to love it!” With that, she kissed her sister on the cheek, and then bounded off to her room, humming under her breath.

Alexandra turned, to catch her brother looking much too amused.

She glared at him. “What's so funny?” she demanded.

“My two stubborn, wicked sisters,” he replied.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

“You have no idea.”

She shook her head. “Just wait until after the Cotillion,” she said. “You'll see some wickedness then.”

His eyes narrowed, but he still looked amused.

“You don't really seem thrilled about this Cotillion either. I heard you like dancing.”

Maximilian smiled, but some of the amusement faded. “Cotillions introduce you to wizarding society. It's where eligible pureblood witches and wizards meet each other. It used to be where marriages were arranged, and sometimes it still is. You aren't just dancing with other kids, you're dancing with potential future husbands.”

Alexandra's forehead wrinkled, and her mouth twisted into a grimace.

“That's the way things are still done among Old Colonial families, Alex.”

“I'm not even a pureblood,” she pointed out.

“That's not as important as it used to be. But your parentage is.” He looked at her seriously. “Julia has no idea. She's gone to an all-girls school for the last four years. She's eager to dive into wizarding society, and wizarding society is going to throw her right back.”

“Haven't you told her this before?”

Maximilian nodded. “Of course I have. But she's like you – she doesn't listen.”

“You know, maybe you should stop worrying about both of us. We're both tougher than you think we are. Julia's not a wimp. And why are you assuming that no one will want to date her because she's Abraham Thorn's daughter? You keep saying that, but I have friends at Charmbridge, even though I'm his daughter, and girls don't seem to have stopped flirting with you just because you're his son. I mean, even Constance and Forbearance have a crush on you!”

Maximilian folded his arms across his chest, until she finished, then said, “Constance and Forbearance are Ozarkers.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, let's suppose I actually did begin dating one of them. Pretending, for a moment, that they aren't much too young.”

“Don't even think about dating my friends.”

He rolled his eyes. “The point is,” he went on, “it's one thing for your little friends to have a crush. Believe me – if the Pritchards' ma and pa found out that one of their daughters was dating the son of Abraham Thorn, they'd yank those girls back to the Ozarks so fast their bonnets would spin. And it would be like that with pretty much any traditional wizarding family.”

Alexandra thought about Beatrice, and her very traditional wizarding family. “You don't know that.”

He sighed. “Yes, Alexandra, I do.”

She shook her head. “Fine. So you and Julia can date someone who doesn't care about this stupid wizard society stuff, someone who's not a pureblood. Or isn't a Mudblood good enough for you and your sister?”

He stared at her. “That's not fair, Alex,” he said quietly. “You know I don't think that way.”

She looked down, scuffing the toe of her boot against the floor. “No, you just assume everyone else does, and go along with it.” She looked up at him. “You know what? I don't have a problem being a 'Mudblood.' And I don't think Julia has a problem being Abraham Thorn's daughter. What are you so afraid of, Max?”

He shook his head. “You just don't understand.”

“Yeah, I guess not. Good night, Max.”

When she entered her room, she found Charlie already half-asleep, with only a few crumbs left around the bottom of the birdcage. Deezie had been stuffing the bird with seeds and bread crusts and bits of crab and fish.

“You're getting spoiled,” she said to the raven, as she moved to close the window, since Charlie wasn't inclined to go flying at night when such a feast was readily available right here in Alexandra's room. “And you're going to get fat and lazy. I'm gonna tell Deezie to stop feeding you so much, greedy-gut.”

Charlie opened one eye, and made a rude sound, like an imitation of a human burping. Alexandra shook her head, grinning, then paused. Her grin faded, as she looked down the hill, and saw two ghostly figures walking among the trees, at the edge of the woods. She couldn't make out what they were wearing, and wasn't even sure whether they were men or women, but it was definitely a pair of human figures, and there was a luminescent glow surrounding them in the darkness.

She felt the back of her neck tingle a bit, as she watched the ghostly figures walk back and forth in front of the trees, and then, for a moment, it seemed they were looking up the hill. At her.

Alexandra had never been afraid of ghosts, and even after being told they were real, she still didn't think there was any reason to fear them. But it was still unnerving to see two spirits appear before her eyes. As she watched, they retreated back into the woods, seeming to fade into the trees themselves.

“Did you see that, Charlie?” she whispered. But the raven was already asleep. It took her a while to fall asleep herself.

Julia was bouncing with excitement the next morning, as she summoned Alexandra into her room, and then began tossing what seemed like a mountain of robes onto her bed, trying to select one to wear to town, while sorting old robes she'd outgrown into another pile. These, she held up against Alexandra, one after the other, muttering about colors and sizes and trim and cuts.

“You have a lot,” Alexandra commented, eyeing the pile of rich fabric. “Why do we need to go shopping? I don't mind wearing one of your robes.”

“Oh, don't be silly! These are old robes, Alexandra! But you can borrow one for our shopping trip.”

Alexandra didn't think they looked old, and considering how many there were, Julia couldn't have worn any of them very often.

She cleared her throat. “This might sound like a dumb question, but... are the woods, you know, haunted?”

Julia looked up at her. “Oh, yes,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “This island is the most haunted place in Roanoke. It's where the Bureau of Hauntings relocates ghosts who won't reside properly elsewhere. Why, did you see some ghosts last night? They weren't in the house, were they?” She frowned. “They're not supposed to come up here, but every now and then, when they're having another war, they'll ignore the boundaries, and then Mother has to go and talk to them...”

“War?” Alexandra repeated, in disbelief.

“The Colonials and the Indians. Sometimes the pirates join in. They make treaties, and then, every few years, one side or the other will violate them, and they go to war again. It's all rather silly, since they're already dead and they can't hurt each other, but I think it actually lets them pretend they're still alive, if that makes any sense.”

It didn't, really, but Alexandra just nodded. Julia was peeling off her nightgown, and Alexandra could see more of Maximilian's handiwork on her back and arms, spelling out: “I am an empty-headed, spoiled little booger,” and “Wicked little sisters ought to mind their brothers.” When she turned around, Alexandra could see letters on her belly – written backwards, apparently so Julia would be able to read it in a mirror.

Maximilian had gotten her good, Alexandra had to admit.

Julia looked down at her bare stomach with a pout. “Horrible, isn't he? You will help me get even with him, after the Cotillion?”

“Of course.” Alexandra was trying not to burst into laughter.

“At least he didn't Ink me anywhere where it will show when I'm dressed.” Julia pulled on a soft blue robe with white and yellow trim, then tossed Alexandra a red and gold one. “This will look nice on you.”

Maximilian was still looking smug at breakfast. Ms. King looked at her two children and shook her head.

“We'll ride to New Roanoke immediately after breakfast,” she said, “and you'd better all be on your best behavior.”

“Yes, Mother,” replied Maximilian and Julia, and Alexandra mumbled her assent as well.

The Thestral was already hooked up to the carriage when they went outside. Two house-elves and Mr. Hunter were waiting. The older wizard spoke to Ms. King briefly, then helped her into the carriage, and Alexandra noticed that Maximilian did the same for Julia – and despite giving him a pouty glare, she allowed him to do so. Alexandra climbed quickly up into the carriage before Maximilian could give her a hand, and he just rolled his eyes at her.

Alexandra kept her eyes on the Thestral, as it pulled them down the hill, until they reached the woods. She looked around, wondering if ghosts were visible during the day. She didn't see any. Where did ghosts go when they weren't... haunting?

When they reached the beach, the Thestral once again spread its wings, and took off, skimming over the waves and pulling the carriage with it. Alexandra held her hand out over the side, to feel the spray as the winged horse's hooves kicked up little splashes along the surface of the water. Then she noticed, as they sped across the ocean towards the mainland, that there were sailboats out on the water.

“I know the Thestral is invisible to most people,” she asked, “but won't Muggles notice a flying carriage?”

“We're under a Disillusionment Charm,” Ms. King explained. “All the Muggles will see is another sailboat.”

“Awesome.” Alexandra grinned.

“Awesome!” Julia repeated, laughing with delight.

Nestled in a coastal inlet, it was obvious that New Roanoke was a wizarding town the moment they came ashore. If the men and women wearing robes and tall pointed hats on a sunny spring day weren't enough of a giveaway, the sailboats that were coming to moor at the docks were – because the docks were a hundred yards inland. Alexandra realized that some of the boats she'd seen weren't Muggle sailboats after all; they were steered by wizards, and they plowed through the sands of the beach as easily as they did through waves.

Although it was the Territorial capital, New Roanoke was smaller than Larkin Mills. Alexandra's first impression was of a quaint historical town. The streets were cobblestone or brick, and the buildings were mostly stone and wood and looked a hundred years old. The wizards and witches she saw walking the streets were almost all in robes, long cloaks, or doublets and waistcoats, with the exception of a few in red vests and sashes over black uniform shirts and pants, with badges on their pointed felt hats.

They passed a large, domed structure that Ms. King told her was the Territorial capital building. It was completely unlike Central Territory's headquarters building, concealed in a high-rise office in downtown Chicago. Alexandra saw several more Thestrals, with riders, descending into a courtyard. All around, besides the wizarding folk, there were magical creatures. Alexandra saw winged horses – both Granians and large chestnut horses that Julia told her were called Aethonans – and a hippogriff, chained to a post in front of a large circular stadium-sized building. There were flashing, flying, and screaming signs all around it, advertising the next race-day. They seemed to be driving the poor beast mad; Alexandra thought the hippogriff looked ready to tear open anyone who came close.

As they turned away from the town center, they began passing buildings that were slightly newer, with paved sidewalks in front, and here and there Alexandra saw Clockworks through storefront windows, or outside sweeping the sidewalks. Down a few side streets were parked automobiles, most resembling models she'd seen on old TV shows.

They passed an outdoor cafe where house-elves brought food and drinks to the tables, balancing enormous platters on their heads, and storefronts on either side of the street. Alexandra saw New Roanoke Professional Brooms, The Parris Family Clinic for Maladies and Maladjustments, a Boxley's Books store (much smaller than the one in Chicago), an ominous-looking building of black brick, standing apart from its neighbors on either side, with a sign saying only 'Sojourns' out front, and then another row of quaint shops, each one trying to attract attention with dancing, sparkling lights and shimmering mists in front of its windows, forming letters, shapes, or hypnotic patterns to draw the eye.

Ms. King reined in the Thestral in front of a white three-story building, with a lawn larger than some of the shops they'd just passed. It looked more like a mansion than a store. Julia was clutching Alexandra's arm eagerly.

“Glinda's has the finest robes in Roanoke,” she said. “We could spend all day here!”

Alexandra nodded, not feeling nearly as excited at the prospect as Julia.

“I need to go to Gringotts,” said Ms. King. “Maximilian, I want you to look after your sisters –”

“Mother, we don't need looking after!” Julia protested, and then fell silent at another stern look.

“– and remember what I said about being on your best behavior,” Ms. King continued. “I'll be back in time for lunch.”

Everyone nodded. Maximilian hopped out of the carriage, and Julia once again let him help her down, while surreptitiously sticking her tongue out at him. Alexandra jumped down again before he could offer her a hand.

As Ms. King rolled away in the carriage, Julia said, “You can wait for us outside, Max. Or go loiter somewhere.” She tossed her hair and sniffed. “I know you'd rather juggle Quods than go clothes shopping with two girls.”

“Normally, you'd be right,” Maximilian replied. His eyes glinted with amusement as he looked at Alexandra. “But this might be entertaining.”

“Fine, but behave, big brother.” Julia cuffed him on the shoulder, while Alexandra wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him, and then the three of them entered the enormous store.

It was exactly as tedious as Alexandra expected it to be. There were racks of robes and dresses, cloaks and capes, gowns, and even some Muggle-style skirts, along with boots, slippers, and sandals, and witches' hats in all shapes and sizes and colors. Maximilian was the only male in the store. He followed his sisters around, disinterested but bemused, as Julia went delightedly from one display to another. There were a few other teenage witches in the store, and soon they were all casting glances at Maximilian.

The finer robes floated in alcoves, turning about and raising their sleeves as if worn by invisible, animated mannequins. But Alexandra, despite having little knowledge of and no interest in fashion, noticed one thing about the dresses being featured most prominently in the center of the store: they were appalling. They looked like cast-offs from a Hollywood B-movie: huge pink tulle ball gowns, enormous fluffy blue hoop skirts, and some plaid affairs that made her think of Muggle schoolgirl uniforms, except they came with bustles and lace bodices.

“Look, Alexandra! Isn't this lovely?” Julia proclaimed, pointing at something that looked like it was made out of cotton candy.

Alexandra was trying to think of a polite way to express revulsion and horror, when the proprietor strode up behind them.

“Is this your first time at Glinda's Good Witch Apparel?” she asked, in an artificially friendly tone, with a stiff smile that said she was not altogether sure that these two teenage girls with a boy in tow belonged here.

“Yes, ma'am,” Julia replied, turning around. “My sister and I are looking for something to wear to the Cotillion. And you can ignore him. He's just my brother.”

“I see,” the witch said dryly, as Maximilian's mouth twitched. Then her eyes fell on Alexandra, who had the back of her hand over her mouth.

“Are you all right, young lady?” she asked.

“Yes,” Alexandra replied, choking back laughter. Julia and Maximilian were both looking at her strangely now. “I was just wondering where the yellow brick road is?” she mumbled, and then had to press her hand over her mouth again.

Her half-siblings stared at her, baffled, but the proprietor raised an eyebrow.

“Are you Muggle-born?” she asked slowly.

Alexandra's laughter died quickly. She dropped her hand, and stared defiantly back at the witch.

“Yes, I am,” she replied.

Maximilian no longer looked amused. He seemed about to intervene, looking angrily at the older woman, and Alexandra could feel eyes on them, from other customers in the store, but to her surprise, the proprietor's face broke out into a smile. “Have you actually read Frank Baum, or only seen the movie?” she asked.

“I read the books when I was a kid,” Alexandra answered, a bit thrown by the question.

While Julia and Maximilian looked confused, the older witch put a hand on Alexandra's shoulder. “Let's see what we can find to make you look lovely for your first Cotillion, dear.” She lowered her voice. “Forget those hideous things out front, those are for purebloods who'd rather spend money on spectacle than style.” And as she guided Alexandra towards the stairs, with her puzzled siblings following behind, she leaned forward and whispered in her ear: “I'm Muggle-born, too.”

'Glinda's' real name was Laurel Parker, and Alexandra learned that she'd started 'Glinda's Good Witch Apparel' thirty years ago, opening a small robe shop with a name chosen in a moment of wry irony. She'd been enormously successful, and apparently enjoyed the fact that few of her customers had ever caught on to the joke. She asked Alexandra where she was from, and they talked about television and comic books and the Wizard of Oz, while the seamstress took all sorts of measurements from her and Julia, with a now-thoroughly bored Maximilian waiting in the next room.

Then Ms. Parker brought her a gold robe with a braided sash, and Alexandra balked.

“I don't wear dresses,” she objected. They could call it a 'formal robe' all they liked – this was a dress!

“Surely for special occasions,” said Ms. Parker.

Alexandra shook her head. “Not since I was, like, six.”

“Alexandra!” Julia squealed. “This is a Clytemnestra Kirk original!” She turned around and took Alexandra's hands in her own. “Oh, Alex, please just try it on!”

Alexandra looked at her sister, and thought about how much this ridiculous dance meant to her.

“If Max makes one stupid comment –”

“He won't, I swear!”

Alexandra sighed, defeated. At least none of her friends would see her in it. With the same expression she wore when going to serve detention, she went into the changing booth, took off her casual robe and boots, and slid into the gold formal robe. It was tighter and clingier than anything she'd ever worn before. It left uncomfortably large portions of her neck, shoulders, and back bare. It left her legs exposed up to her calves. When she walked out of the changing booth, Julia gasped, clapped her hands together, and jumped up and down. “Alex, it's beautiful!”

Ms. Parker beckoned her over, and began making small adjustments by waving her wand over Alexandra's shoulders and waist.

“You're going to look so darling!” Julia was cooing, as Alexandra stood there hoping that perhaps the ground would open up and swallow her between now and Saturday night.

“I think it's lovely,” agreed Ms. Parker.

“Can't we get something that's more like a regular robe?” Alexandra asked. “You know, that covers my shoulders? And my ankles?”

“You talk like a Salem Traditionalist,” Julia laughed. She took Alexandra's wrist. “Come on! Let's show Max!”

“No!” Alexandra protested, but Julia dragged her out of the fitting room and into the mirrored waiting area, where Alexandra could see herself from every angle. Maximilian, slouched in a chair with a bored expression, straightened up and gave her a long, appraising look. Alexandra stared back at him, daring him to say something.

Julia gave her brother a warning look, but it was unnecessary. Maximilian smiled. “You look nice.”

“Nice? Max, she looks stunning!”

“I do not. It's just a dress.” Alexandra shook her head.

“I'd just as soon she not look stunning,” Maximilian agreed. “Or you.”

“Hmph.” Julia turned her nose up. “Well, I am going to look stunning, and I'm going to dance with every boy at the Cotillion!” With her head held high, she turned on her heel and marched back into the fitting room, where Ms. Parker had brought some more robes for her to try on.

Alexandra could feel her cheeks reddening a bit, as Maximilian walked over to her, and then circled her slowly.

“Julia's just gushing because she got me into a dress,” Alexandra told him.

“Yes,” he agreed. “But you don't look half bad. In a few years, you might even turn a few heads.”

He was being blunt, rather than flattering her, and she found this almost comforting.

“I'm not in any hurry.”

“Good.”

She shook her head, and gave him a sour smile, which faded as she glanced over her shoulder, and then leaned towards him.

“This is a Clytemnestra Kirk original,” she whispered.

Maximilian nodded. “So I heard. Along with everyone else in the store.”

“Yeah.” Alexandra looked down, and ran her fingers briefly over the gold fabric of her sleeve. “I guess that means it must be pretty expensive.”

Maximilian shrugged.

“Max,” she whispered. “I don't have that kind of money! And I can't ask my mother for –”

“Forget it, Alex,” he said brusquely. “It's taken care of.”

She looked at him a moment, then shook her head. “No, I can't let you and your mom pay for something really expensive like this.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Of course you can.” And then he cut her off before she could argue. “But Mother isn't paying for it.”

“What?” She frowned at him. “Are you paying for it out of your allowance? That's really nice, Max, but I already feel bad enough that you gave me a broom and all I gave you –”

“Stop it, Alex.” Maximilian frowned down at her. “In case you haven't noticed, money isn't an issue for us. But I'm not paying for the robe either.” He leaned forward, and whispered in her ear, “Other arrangements have been made. Anything you want for the Cotillion is all taken care of. Think of it as a belated birthday present.”

Alexandra blinked, and stared at her brother silently, until they heard Julia emerging from the fitting rooms. Julia looked much nicer than her, in a violet robe with a multilayered white and blue petticoat underneath, and a bodice cut lower than Maximilian liked. Alexandra smiled and assured Julia that every boy at the Cotillion would want to dance with her, and both of them laughed at their brother's scowl. But to herself, she wondered if expensive clothes were all Julia had come to expect from their father.

They still had to buy shoes, and Alexandra was grateful that high heels were not fashionable among witches – she'd been afraid Julia might want her to wear those, too. Ms. Parker found a pair of surprisingly comfortable gold slippers that matched Alexandra's robe, and Julia bought a new set of slippers as well, ignoring Maximilian's comments about the two dozen pairs she already owned.

Alexandra thanked Ms. Parker sincerely as they left Glinda's Good Witch Apparel, and the woman smiled and winked at her. Ms. King was waiting outside, sitting in her carriage behind the Thestral, and Julia happily described everything they'd bought.

There was a Goody Pruett's on the corner, so Ms. King took them there for ice cream. Goody Pruett's Witch-Made Pies, Cakes, and Other Confections was the first wizarding establishment Alexandra had ever visited, and the one in New Roanoke looked much like the one in Chicago, with the manager smiling at them from her picture frame on the wall, and a variety of pies, cakes, and candies tempting customers from their display cases. Alexandra and the Kings each settled for a scoop of Wyland West's 99-Flavored Ice Cream, and were enjoying their treat when an old wizard in deep blue robes approached their table. He had dark brown skin, a long white beard, and a bald head; he was holding a pointed wizard's cap in his hands, one so tall that it would have scraped against the ceiling if he hadn't taken it off.

“Thalia,” he announced seriously. “I thought I saw you at Gringotts.”

“You did,” Ms. King replied peaceably.

“Out with your children, I see.” The wizard nodded gravely to Maximilian and Julia, who nodded back politely. The old man then turned to look at Alexandra.

“This is Julia's friend Alexandra,” said Ms. King. “Alexandra, this is Elymas Rolfe. A very important man in Roanoke. He was on the Wizards' Congress for many years.”

Alexandra knew there must be a reason Ms. King was telling her that. Elymas Rolfe would have known her father, then, when he was a Congressman. Were they friends, or enemies?

“You would be Alexandra Thorn, then,” Mr. Rolfe said quietly.

Julia and Maximilian both became very still, and Alexandra couldn't read Ms. King's expression.

“I would be Alexandra Quick,” she replied, looking the elderly wizard in the eye, even though he was obviously someone important and powerful. He had a presence, too, that made her think he probably wasn't used to people staring him down in ice cream shops, especially not thirteen-year-old girls. But he didn't look angry or upset at her correction. Neither did he smile. He seemed to be scrutinizing her for several seconds, and then he nodded and turned back to Ms. King.

“I noticed the young ladies shopping at Glinda's with their brother. Are you planning to attend the Cotillion?”

“We did receive an invitation,” Ms. King replied evenly.

“I hope you know what sort of attention you are inviting, then.” Mr. Rolfe's worried expression struck Alexandra as not entirely sincere.

“Thank you for your concern, Elymas.” Ms. King smiled coolly. “And for paying such close attention to three children shopping for clothes, when I'm sure there are much more important matters with which you could be concerning yourself.”

Elymas Rolfe blinked slowly at Ms. King, and then nodded his head slightly. “It's always lovely to see you, Thalia. And a pleasure to meet your children... and Miss Quick.” He gave an even briefer nod to the teens, who all nodded back curtly. “Be well.”

“And you too, Elymas.”

The wizard turned and strode out of Goody Pruett's, without buying anything. Ms. King resumed eating her ice cream cone.

“I know, I shouldn't have been rude to him,” Alexandra mumbled, anticipating a lecture from Maximilian, or worse, his mother. But Ms. King merely raised an eyebrow.

“You're right, you shouldn't have been,” she said. “But he was being presumptuous also.”

“Was he a friend of our father?” Alexandra asked.

Ms. King paused, and then shook her head. “No.”

“An enemy, then?” Maximilian asked.

“No.” Ms. King shook her head again. “Mr. Rolfe is a politician. Like your father.”

“He was warning us,” Maximilian muttered.

“Yes.” Ms. King rose from the table, and the children followed suit. “And we should consider his warning seriously.”

“Mother!” Julia protested immediately. “You're not saying we can't go to the Cotillion, are you?”

Ms. King didn't answer immediately, and Julia wrung her hands anxiously until they had all climbed into the Thestral-drawn carriage again and set off down the street.

“Mother,” Julia pleaded again, at last, and her mother shook her head.

“If you still want to go,” Ms. King said, “then go we shall. But you must realize that it's been many years since your father disappeared, and fear of speaking his name is fading. If Elymas Rolfe knew immediately who Alexandra is, then it's likely that his other children will also be named soon enough, perhaps even appear in the society pages of the Roanoke Magic Gazette.” For a moment, the older witch's expression was distant, and sad. “Not everyone is unkind, but few will break ranks with those who consider your father a traitor and a Dark wizard.” She focused her gaze on her daughter again, and her expression became soft. “You thought Fred and Betty refusing to play with you any more was hurtful. Do you really want to risk facing the censure of Roanoke society?”

Julia looked torn and uncertain for a moment, and Maximilian turned around in the carriage, to regard his sister quietly, all mocking and banter forgotten. Then she held her head up.

“I won't be made scared by rumor-mongers and gossips.” She looked at Alexandra, and sighed. “But it's not fair for Alexandra to face that. She didn't ask to be made to go to a dance where she might be cut and shunned.”

“Don't worry about me,” Alexandra insisted. “I'm used to being cut and shunned.”

Maximilian almost smiled, and Alexandra gave him a small smile in return, and then patted the wrapped bundle in her lap. “It's not like I'll ever wear this again, so we might as well go.”

Julia beamed, and wrapped her arms around her younger sister. “We are going to have fun, Alexandra!”

Alexandra wasn't so sure, but she nodded, and exchanged a look with Maximilian. He just sighed, and nodded to her, with a resigned expression.

That night, Alexandra once more saw ghosts down in the forest, as she opened her window to let Charlie in. She'd told Deezie not to feed the raven so much, so Charlie had eventually gone flying out over the island. As Alexandra stroked the bird's glossy black feathers, she watched little flashes of light twinkle in the darkness, like stars, and saw a troop of glowing ghostly figures bearing spears and bows come charging out of the trees, briefly survey the meadowed hillside leading up to Croatoa, and then fade back into the woods.