More of Meagan the Valkyrie. A simple disobedience on her part leads her to witness a heinous murder that she was quite ill-prepared for. This one's a bit longer than the previous chapters due to a long scene about Bella's coronation.

Please comment and review if you like it. It doesn't even have to be long. Just enough to let me know you read it.  I would really appreciate it.



Disobedience

The hospital staff allowed Meagan more visits with Ayana, and the two of them spent most of their time together. Meagan sat by Jenni too, but she was deep in coma and didn't respond to Meagan's touch or soft words.
It was still very hard to keep oneself entertained in the hospital, especially when Meagan ran out of things to talk about. She was glad to finally get in her own bed and to flop onto it. She resolved to bring Jenni some puzzles and books so she wouldn't be bored out of her mind, then remembered she was still in coma. Sighing, Meagan turned around and saw the invitation to the party, on her desk.
“I wonder what I'll wear to the coronation,” she muttered. Meagan opened the closet door and studied each dress and outfit. “Something fancy, no doubt.” She picked out three reasonably new dresses she hadn't yet worn to an event and laid them out on the bed. She would ask her mother's opinion on them later.
Dinner tasted better than usual. Meagan was unsure whether her mother had found an amazing recipe or her tongue was just glad of the change from the bland hospital food she'd been living on. The conversation was lively, and soon things shifted to the party. “Mom,” she said as she cut her steak, “I was wondering if you'd help me pick a dress to wear at the party.”
Meagan's mother stared at her husband. Mr. Pronozuk was Captain of the Royal Guard. Having been gone several weeks spreading the word that the queen was relinquishing her throne to her daughter (as well as conducting some under-cover work), he had just returned home that evening. He had a loud, booming voice that commanded respect, and his steely silver eyes seemed to know whenever a lie was uttered in his presence. His wings and hair were black, like night, and he always wore his uniform- even at home.
Mr. Pronozuk sighed. “Meagan,” he said softly, “considering the circumstances, we'd think it'd be best if you stayed home.”
Meagan dropped her fork, feeling utterly betrayed. How could they? Didn't they realize what a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity this was? It had been the talk of the school for a solid MONTH, only stopping then because school was let out for summer break. She felt hot tears well up. It was all she could do to ask, “Why?”
“You just got home from the hospital. You're still injured,” Mrs. Pronozuk pointed out.
“We don't want you to strain yourself so soon,” her father explained.
Meagan asked, “What about the party and funeral?”
“The party is out of the question, but we might let you sit through the funeral. We'll take you straight home if we deem it necessary.”
“That's not fair! I deserve to be there!” Meagan protested.
“Yes, you do. Many do,” Mrs. Pronozuk acknowledged dryly. “You're still not going.”
Meagan didn't know what other reasons her parents had for keeping her home. Many do... Was it...?
“Just because Jenni can't go doesn't mean that the same thing applies to me!” Meagan screamed.
“Do not raise your voice at your parents!” Mr. Pronozuk bellowed. “Our choice has nothing to do with your sister. Shame on you that you would bring Jenni into this!”
“I'm not so injured that I have to be puppy-guarded,” Meagan retorted. “I have a spine!”
“Are you back-talking?” challenged Mr. Pronozuk.
The tears welling up spilled down her cheeks, scalding and hot. “I hate you!” Meagan sobbed. “I can't believe you'd do this to me!”
Mrs. Pronozuk sighed. “We’ll stay with you too, if you want.”
“No, go to the stupid party! I don’t even want to see you!” She pushed her chair back and ran to her room. She couldn't believe she was crying. I'm such an idiot. A complete cry-baby, she thought sourly.
She cracked open a storybook but shut it after a few minutes. The fairy-tale endings always seemed so much happier and better than real-life endings. Meagan was about to turn on her radio, but changed her mind. She just crawled into bed, no longer sobbing, but tears still fell. Meagan didn't want to sleep, but she didn't have anything else to do. She just lay there, angry thoughts churning about in her head.
After what seemed like an eternity, her mother came in and sat down next to her, and smoothed her hair. Meagan didn't even look at her, and Mrs. Pronozuk couldn't get a word out. When the silence became unbearable, Mrs. Pronozuk sighed and left. Meagan sighed too, letting out a long, bitter, lamentable breath. It was getting late, but Meagan still didn't want to go to sleep.
Meagan climbed out of bed when it was pitch-dark. She lit a candle and gazed at herself in her mirror. Her left wing, the crippled one, hung awkwardly and crookedly. She could barely move it without causing excruciating pain, while her right one worked just fine. She turned away and opened her closet, choosing a black sheath dress, then dug around until she found what she was looking for: a black and white mask she had bought just before her hospitalization. She hadn't shown her parents because she worried it wouldn't match the final dress she chose. “Well, it is a masquerade ball,” she whispered to herself, and smiled.
***
Meagan barely spoke to her parents the next day, and went to bed wondering what would happen if she got caught. Her parents were attending, and though she would be wearing a mask, Meagan fretted that they might find out. They would be furious for sure.
Meagan fingered the mask nervously. It only covered the area around her eyes and part of her nose bridge. She had no clue what it was made of, but it felt soft to the touch, delicate as silk. It had holes for the eyes, lined with bluish patterns. It curved upwards at the edges, rather like a pair of wings. Meagan thought it was beautiful.
The next morning, Meagan's parents quickly prepared for the momentous occasion, left her a list of rules to follow, kissed her goodbye, then left. Meagan had been sure to memorize their masks so as to avoid them. Her father took a plain, black, frowning one with only narrow slits to see through, and her mother took a shining, laughing one. Meagan knew no one would wear a mask during the coronation, so, like it or not, she really did have to stay home from that one unless she wanted to have an increased risk of getting caught.
She chose to spend the time getting ready for the party. Meagan started with her hair because she figured it would have been easier than applying make-up. First, she attempted to put it into a bun, but it turned into a floppy mess. Groaning, she undid the mass of pins and brushed her hair out. After some thought, she did a half-ponytail with the top layers of her hair, leaving it to hang over the rest of it. It looked pretty enough, so she busied herself with make-up.
To match her dark, black dress and mask, Meagan used an ebony shade of mascara and dark blue eyeshadow. She felt kind of silly after lining her eyes out with black to make them stand out because she was wearing a mask, so not much of it would show. Oh well, she thought. At least the eyeshadow will show when I blink. Meagan also picked out a purplish-black shade of lipstick and applied it.
After slipping into her dress and putting on the mask, she looked in the mirror. The effect was striking; she looked like a winged being of the night heralding its longest hour, though it did seem rather goth. Pleased, she checked the time using both the clock in her room and the grandfather clock in the living room. If she left now, she would have plenty of time to get to the party.
Meagan grabbed the invitation with her name written on it in gilded letters in case proof was needed to be allowed into the ballroom. As she passed by the table, she saw a black feather from the arrangement her mother had wanted to use in her hair but had decided against. After a moment's hesitation, she carefully placed it in her hair, then walked out the door.
***
The summer night was uncomfortably warm, and the air felt almost sticky. Meagan set a brutal pace, not wanting to linger in the streets more than necessary. Her wings twitched as she walked, the left one feeling stiff and clumsy, almost paralyzed. There was a feeling of stillness, and Meagan felt as if she was somehow disturbing the hush.
She saw no one as she hurried along, but she kept looking over her shoulder. Meagan wasn't sure if it was paranoia, sixth sense, or both, but her heart was beating quickly and her eyes kept darting around. She shook her head. “No one is there, Meagan. No one is watching you.” She said it aloud because she wanted to hear someone's voice. Anyone's- even her own. After she spoke, the silence seemed thicker, more oppressive, as if protesting against her presence.
Meagan told herself she was imagining it.
After a half-hour, she saw the palace. It was a glittering, huge building covered in towers, statues, gargoyles, arches, terraces, balconies, and parapets. It was surrounded by sprawling, lush gardens speckled with rare plants and beautiful, sparkling fountains. The ball was being held in a marble-paved area in the gardens, fenced in by hedges of blue and white roses. An usher guarded the way to the floor, checking invitations and the guest list.
Meagan got in line for admittance. Even though the party had just started, she could hear a cacophony of music, talking, and laughter. She couldn't recognize the song the band was playing, but it was elegant and swooping, a waltz bringing to mind a phoenix in flight. Meagan wished the line would move faster. She caught sight of her parents just entering and tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.
Time passed slowly. Ages later, Meagan was finally at the head of the line and was facing the usher. She smiled nervously. “Name?” asked the usher.
“Meagan Pronozuk, sir. I have an invitation.” She handed it to him.
He read it quickly, then passed it back. “Your family came by earlier,” he said. “Did you get caught up someplace?”
“Oh, they left before me. I'm meeting them here,” she fibbed.
The usher nodded, totally buying it, and let her through, turning to the next person in line. Meagan went in as fast as she could without appearing hurried. A quick scan of the perimeter brought up two people Meagan could recognize with or without masks. The first was Noah, because she could see the linen swathes he always covered his arms, hands, legs, feet, and face with. The second was Ayana, since Meagan knew her for as long as she could remember. Meagan strode over to Ayana.
“How's the party?” she asked casually.
“Meagan!” Ayana exclaimed. “You made it! I saw your parents earlier and I thought you stayed home.”
“Shhh!” hissed Meagan. “Do you want to rat me out?”
“Sorry,” Ayana apologized.
“How was the coronation?”
“Okay. My mom says the previous queen's was better.” Ayana pushed some hair out of her eyes. “Anyway, that's over and done with, but look at you! You look positively stunning!”
“Thank you! You look amazing yourself,” Meagan complimented. Ayana was wearing red lipstick and eyeshadow, and a scarlet dress with matching gloves. “Where's Bella?”
“She's not coming for another few minutes,” Ayana answered. “Let's get something to eat while we wait. I'm hungry.” They picked their way to tables covered in delicacies, from wild boar to cute cupcakes.
Meagan pointed to the boar. “It's huge,” she said. “I wonder if any men got hurt this hunt.”
“Probably,” Ayana replied, grabbing a plate and helping herself to some sausages. “What boar hunt hasn't brought back injured men?”
“The March of King Errin.”
“King Errin is a made-up character that mothers tell kids to make them go to sleep,” Ayana scoffed.
Meagan shrugged, then squealed with delight when she saw the platter behind the boar. “Mushrooms!”
Ayana raised an eyebrow. “So?” she asked, as Meagan heaped them on her plate.
“Good mushrooms are hard to come by,” Meagan explained. “A lot of them are poisonous, and this mountain variety is particularly rare. They're delicacies.”
“I know that!” Ayana exclaimed. “I'm wondering why you're so eager to eat them.”
“I haven't had a mountain mushroom in years. The import is costly and they're expensive.”
“They can't be that good,” Ayana mumbled skeptically, then popped one into her mouth. She gagged and quickly swallowed. Meagan laughed. Ayana glared at her. “What? I can't dislike foods you foam at the mouth for?”
“No, it's not that,” Meagan chuckled. “It's just that I've never seen someone react like that to mushrooms.”
Ayana snorted and ate a cupcake. “Whatever.”
“Changing the subject... did you see anybody we know?”
“A couple people. Noah's with some friends of his.”
“Oh.” Meagan smiled and added a few fruits to her plate. “Where do you want to sit and ea-”
Trumpet fanfare interrupted her question. Meagan stared in puzzlement as everyone dropped to a knee. Ayana jerked her down. Meagan quickly kneeled as someone bellowed, “Queen Isabella Lewis XIII!” Now it makes sense, thought Meagan. She flicked her gaze upwards to catch a glimpse of the monarch. She had long, flowing black hair and smiling hazel eyes, though the rest of her face seemed serious and blank. Bella wore no mask. She had glittering, translucent pink-hued wings. She wore a pink ribbon in her hair and an elegant rose dress matching her hair accessory. At her left, Meagan saw Sheriff Carmen, not wearing any mask, just like her queen. Carmen had dark brown hair and green eyes mirroring the Chief Sorceress' almost exactly, albeit a different color. Carmen wore her uniform instead of a party dress, and had white gloves. Meagan noted the large rifle strapped to her back.
“As you were,” Bella said. Everyone stood, but the mood had changed. Instead of engaging in long, enthusiastic conversations, the guests struck up nervous, light chatter. Meagan watched Bella for a moment, then turned to Ayana.
“As I was saying,” Meagan began, “where do you want to sit and eat?”
“Anywhere,” said Ayana.
“Well,” mused a voice behind them, “I might be able to offer you ladies in a table with me. If you're interested, that is...” The speaker sounded as if he was completely sure they wouldn't refuse. The girls turned. A tall, medium-built man in a blue tuxedo smiled at them. He had dull green eyes, curly, carrot-colored hair, and cheekbones that made him look very cute. “Nathaniel Linius at your service.”
“Sure,” said Meagan. Nathaniel offered an arm to each girl so as to escort them to the table. Once they sat, Nathaniel beamed.
“I hope you don't mind discussing business while we eat,” Nathaniel stated.
“What business?” asked Ayana as she cut her sausage into small slices. She ate one and eyed the man, curious. “Most members of the Circle want little to do with me.”
Nathaniel laughed. “I'm different, dear girl. I wasn't sure you heard the news.”
“About what?”
“I've been promoted,” he said, “to Chief Sorcerer.”
Ayana put down her fork. If she was surprised, she didn't show it. “And that matters to me because...?”
Meagan, who had been enjoying her mushrooms, suddenly started paying more attention. What would the new Chief Sorcerer want with Ayana?
“I understand what a talented little witch you are,” Nathaniel praised, and Meagan wondered whether the compliment was also harbored an insult. “Annalise was very fond of you.”
Ayana cast her gaze downward. It took Meagan a moment to realize that Annalise must have been the previous Chief Sorceress. Nathaniel continued, either oblivious to Ayana's discomfort or was ignoring it. “I need an apprentice myself, so...”
“No,” Ayana said flatly, and stood. “Come on, Meagan. Let's see about the dancing.”
“Wait,” pleaded Linius. Surprisingly, Ayana did. “Think about this. You're only a few years away from completing your training and entering the Circle yourself. Think of what hoops you could skip jumping through! Maybe you might be the next Chief Sorceress.”
“I don't want to be,” Ayana shrugged. “I'm not into power struggles or politics.”
“What would Annalise have you do?”
“The right thing. As a zealous member of the Edendos party, I can't possibly become the apprentice of a left-wing Liberalibus.”
“Annalise told you that?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Linius scowled. The two parties were always at war inside the Circle, each with different agendas. A Liberalibus might not particularly like an Edendos, and they never agreed on politics. “Isn't pursuing your education the right thing?”
Ayana scowled. “Not with you.”
Undeterred, Linius replied, “Do you know how many people would kill for this?”
“All too well. I'm not stupid. I know what really happened to Annalise.” Her words were laced with venom, but Linius took no notice.
“Ayana,” he said, softer and kinder, “don't you want to help people? You have to get stronger to do that.”
“Well, yes, but I don't need your help.”
“Oh, really, now? Then think of this... how many enemies could you avoid if you said yes right now?”
You, thought Meagan. You wouldn't be her enemy, but heaven knows the Edendos party won't look kindly on this...
“You could bring the two parties together,” Linius continued. “There's nothing that would be in your way. You could do anything you desired.”
“I really don't care about the two parties,” Ayana sighed, “but I accept your offer.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ayana glared at him. “Because... I need resources to track someone down... and kill him.” Meagan shivered. Who would Ayana want to kill? With the Circle's library, she would have vast resources at her disposal to figure out exactly how to do that... and if she was desperate enough, she might even break into the restricted area and read the few Dark Tomes left (though goodness knows that was just asking for a death sentence).
Linius nodded and beamed. “Excellent! Why don't you show up next week, Monday, say... six o'clock?”
Ayana smiled weakly. “Sure thing,” she said. Nathaniel nodded, then stood and walked away.
Meagan frowned. “He was playing you,” she said with disgust. “I think he wanted to get you to say your goal. Who... who are you going to...”
“The person who murdered my mentor. I'm absolutely certain it was a murder.” Then Ayana waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, who cares about that? It's a party- let's go have some fun!”
Meagan grinned. “Sure.” They set off towards the dance floor...
...when all the lights went out.
Guests screamed and they were plunged into darkness. Someone shouted for help. A shot was fired and sparks lit Carmen's figure before they died and blackness reigned again. After a while, someone lit a lantern and methodically relit all the lights in the garden.
Sheriff Carmen was still holding her gun, surveying the crowd with a steely glint to her eyes. “Where's Bella?” she demanded. No one answered. Carmen muttered something under her breath, then yelled, “This isn't funny! Where is Bella?”
“Sheriff!” cried the young queen. She crawled out from under the table. “I'm here.”
“Stand close to me,” Carmen commanded. Bella obeyed. Carmen's gaze searched all the guests until she found Mr. Pronozuk. “Captain,” she said, “I think it would be best if you assisted.” He nodded, drew a concealed knife from his boot (that Meagan was unaware of) and stood on the other side of Bella, on her left. Nobody else moved for at least ten minutes. Finally, Carmen sighed and lowered her gun. “Just someone's idea of a joke.”
***
“That idiot shot me,” muttered the boy. He clutched his arm, blood seeping between his fingers. “I'll have to try again.” Crawling towards the lanterns, he prepared to take them out. Each step jolted his arm and sent pain racing up it to his shoulder. No matter. Once this is over I'll stop for a quick patch-up...
He reached the lantern, looked out.
Someone was staring right at him.
A valkyrie, by the looks of things, though one wing hung awkwardly. He shook his head and chanted a spell under his breath. It wouldn't matter anyway once the lights were out.
He was just about to finish the incantation when he heard a shrill voice scream, “Dad! Up there! There's another guy trying to shut off the lights!” The boy snarled, his pointed teeth bared, his red eyes glaring.
He finished the final syllables just as someone exclaimed, “Meagan?!” Then the lights were out, and he was ready.
***
Someone laughed. Meagan tripped. Carmen fired another shot, and the laugh turned into a shriek of pain. Mr. Pronozuk roared and struck, then cried out. Ayana whispered a word of power, cursed under her breath when it didn't work, then whispered another, then another, weaving an enchantment over the area. A bright ball of light rose above the scene, illuminating the area.
Meagan searched frantically for her father, catching sight of him crumpled in a heap on the ground. “Daddy!” she cried. She ran to him. “Daddy!”
“I'm... here,” he croaked. “Meagan, you... naughty girl. You... disobeyed me.” He chuckled. “I'm... glad, really, because... now I can see you one more time... before... before...” His breathing was getting laborious.
“Don't talk like that, Daddy!” Meagan exclaimed. She was barely aware of the small crowd of people gathering, of her mother coming up behind her. All she could see what the crimson blood covering her father's torso. Blood... Meagan felt sick to her stomach. Why couldn't she suck it up for once? Why was she always so squeamish around blood?
“He... got me,” Mr. Pronozuk whispered. “Listen... you've got to be strong. For... Jenni, and for your mother... promise me.”
“I promise,” Meagan vowed. “I promise.” She was crying now, in full sight of everybody, but she didn't care.
“Don't... cry,” Mr. Pronozuk said softly. “I'm only... going to sleep.” He touched Meagan's left wing, the crippled one. “You'll... fly to where I am... one day.”
Meagan nodded.
He turned to his wife. “I... was so lucky to have you. Luckiest... in the world.” His breathing was getting shallower and shallower, and he swallowed, knowing he didn't have much time left. “We'll... see each other... soon.”
“Soon,” repeated Mrs. Pronozuk, sounding dazed.
Her husband smiled. “Don't... fade out. Be... there for them. It's only... temporary. I'm leaving... now. So be it...” He closed his eyes and sighed. He neither opened his eyes nor took another breath.
Meagan took her mother's hand. Mrs. Pronozuk drew her close, hugging her, and stroking her hair. Meagan buried her face in her mother's shoulder, sobbing, and Mrs. Pronozuk, crying too, didn't let go. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Meagan pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes. Her father had died protecting Bella, so where was she?
“Where's Bella?” choked Meagan.
“Gone,” replied Carmen. She was pressing a cloth to the side of her head. Meagan saw it was almost soaked through, then noticed the tear in Carmen's sleeve. The sheriff had torn her uniform to stop the bleeding.
“What do you mean, gone?” Meagan erupted. Her father had died for the queen, so how was it that Carmen walked away with a head wound and Bella was gone?
“Exactly that,” Carmen answered coolly. “She was probably kidnapped.”
“Well, why?” demanded Meagan.
“Because this kingdom has enemies,” she said dryly. Carmen held up a strip of fabric that her free hand was holding. “I tore this from the assailant's garment. Right now, it's the only lead we have.” The fabric was red, scarlet, with a dark black insignia of a ball, one half a moon, the other a sun, stitched on. Next to it was a twelve-pointed star.
“The star looks like the one on Merlin's counter,” Ayana said.
“I know,” the sheriff said. “This is all over the place, and not just at Merlin's. I've seen this before.”
For some reason, no one asked where.
Carmen sighed. “Go home, all of you. The party's over. I suppose we'll reschedule the funeral too, but for now, just go home. Please.” She closed her eyes and grimaced, in obvious pain. Seeing Meagan still standing there, she added, “I’ll take care of the body. That’s police work anyway.”
Meagan and her mother stood from Mr. Pronozuk's side, taking each other’s' hands again. “Do we see Jenni on our way back?” she asked wearily.
“No,” Mrs. Pronozuk whispered. “She might not be awake yet, and I'm not strong enough.”
Neither am I, Meagan thought. Tears welled up again. This was my fault. I told you to go to the party. If I’d asked you to stay with me, and ACTUALLY stayed, maybe you’d still be alive. Don’t go, Daddy… She closed her eyes, letting her mother guide her steps. Daddy... can you hear me? 
… No, you can’t.

Dragonlord Stephi : Ok . Firstly : Who could dislike this post ? Now wait that was secondly . Firstly excellent job again . And I never new a girl like you could write such  tragic story or chapter of a story and secondly prior to firstly , Who could dislike this post . It has so much emotion and vigour and other things that make writing worth reading . I say nice job and I'll read the next chapter for sure tonight . Keep em coming Stephi o'l gal . 

Mr. Zed : Someone disliked it? !! That makes me sad. Oh well. Some things can't be helped.

Thank you yet again for your gracious comments. They make me happy.

One of my qualities lassy . I like making people happy . Making people happy makes me happy . So I am actually making myself happy by making you happy by making myself happy by making people happy . Happiness ;D