When she was home, Itzy stalked up to her room and closed the door. She changed into her pyjamas and slippers the good old-fashioned way and tucked herself into bed, her phone in hand. Gwen’s email had been playing on her mind, and she thought now was the time to reply.

She opened the message on her phone and started to type:

Hi, Gwen! So good to hear from you. Things have improved for me, but I still think of you and miss you. I’m still waiting for you to realise Canada will never be your real home and your heart belongs in England!

Abilities…wow. I don’t know what to say. Yes, I know about them. I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you, but Oz can do things. His friend can do things. I can do things. And I’ve seen others. We don’t know why it’s happening or what it all means but….

They aren’t a sign of something bad. I don’t know where they came from, but if the possessor of those powers is a good person, all they can do with their power is good. Then it’s simply magic.

I’ve seen magic so many times, it’s starting to feel normal. Tonight…well, you’re not going to believe this, but tonight I was taken to see the Northern Lights in someone’s imagination. If I were you and I read that, I’d worry my niece was losing her mind. But Gwen, it was the most beautiful thing – and all I could think was what a miracle it was.

Tonight, I’ve been thinking maybe they’re gifts. I used mine to cure my mother. Did you know she’s better now? She hasn’t touched a drop of liquor in days. It's a bit weird and overwhelming, but we’re slowly putting ourselves back together. Gwen, I healed her. How can that be wrong?

So please don’t be frightened. Yes, things are changing. But change can be good. Perhaps this is the beginning of a new era when people start believing they can be more than they are. I like to remain hopeful.

Love,

Itzy

When she’d sent the message, she lay there contemplating something Seth had said to her earlier.

Itzy jumped out of bed. The duvet fell in a rumpled heap behind her.

She sat at her writing desk. The notebook was already open and waiting for her. The pen lay at its side, itching to be held.

As soon as she took it in her hand, she felt the power surge through her. Yes, that was what it was. It wasn’t a talent but a force she had to gain mastery over. As Seth had said, she could not forget she was incredible.

So Itzy wrote a story. It was about a girl named Jane, who was as plain as her name.

She was sixteen. She had dirty blond hair cut at her shoulders. Her frame was slight and shapeless. She wore figureless jeans with oversized t-shirts, and when she walked, she always looked at her shoes. As a result, she categorised everyone according to their footwear. At college, for instance, there were the Heeled Sandals, the Designer Trainers, the Flip-Flops, and so on.

Jane didn’t dislike anyone, though she didn’t feel particularly drawn to anyone, either. She always felt a little outside. She didn’t wear the same shoes, for one thing. Hers were dreadful orthopaedic things her mother had once picked out for her. They weren’t what she would have chosen for herself. But then, she didn’t know which shoes she would have chosen, so she accepted what she was given with great complacence about her position in the world.

Jane was much more interesting inside than she was outside. In her head, Jane was the queen of some ancient far-away city. She’d been travelling to visit the outer reaches of her kingdom, when an evil witch, jealous of her power, had kidnapped her and put a spell over her, giving her the appearance of an ordinary girl. Now she was forced to live out her life as plain Jane, the girl who had forgotten she was actually in charge of everyone.

These were the ideas Jane carried in her head as she stared down at everyone’s feet.

Her mother was under the same illusion that Jane was just another ordinary girl. She bought Jane’s clothing, convinced Jane was a size bigger than she was. She bought her the ugly orthopaedic shoes. She insisted Jane cut her hair in the plainest fashion. Her mother didn’t appear to believe in Jane’s inner greatness.

One day, a mysterious boy arrived at the college. His name was Adam, and he was beautiful. He had long dark hair and thick eyelashes that made the girls envious. He was tall, toned and tanned in just the right way, and when he spoke, his voice had a huskiness that made the Heeled Sandals swoon.

What Jane noticed most about him was that he wore boots. And not just any boots, but heavy brown riding boots, as if he’d travelled many miles on horseback.

On a particularly fine afternoon, when she was walking across town and taking in the view of the cracks in the uneven pavement, Adam’s boots approached her ugly orthopaedic shoes, preventing them from taking another step. For the first time in years, Jane was forced to look up.

As soon as their eyes met, she recognised him. It was like looking into a mirror through which she could view her whole past. And in that past, she saw the kingdom she’d always dreamt of. There was a tall grey stone castle, its battlements reaching the sky. It was covered in flags with an emblem she had often scribbled on bits of scrap paper during class.

‘Your Highness,’ Adam said. ‘I’ve come to bring you home.’

‘There must be some mistake,’ she told him. ‘I’m plain Jane. I always have been.’

‘No, my lady.’ Adam stepped toward her and took her hesitantly by the hand. His touch was not romantic but reverent. ‘I’ve been searching for you for sixteen years,’ he declared. ‘The witch cast a spell to make you think you were an ordinary girl. But at last, I’ve found you. You must return with me. The kingdom is falling apart without you. We need you.’

The truth resonated in Adam’s eyes. She felt herself falling into it, and bit by bit her memories returned to her.

Yes, it wasn’t just a dream. It was all true. All those times Jane had thought she was fantasising to escape the dullness of her life, she’d actually been remembering her past. She wasn’t the ordinary ineffectual girl she thought she was. She had power, and she was needed to use it for good.

Before she could stop them, the words fled her lips: ‘I have to save my people.’

She threw her hand to her mouth, just as Adam grew excited and said, ‘Yes, yes! You see – you’re beginning to remember who you are!’

Indeed, she was. But there was just one thing.

‘My mother,’ she said. She shook her head and corrected herself. ‘The woman who raised me. I can’t leave without saying goodbye. It will break her heart to lose her only child. She has no husband. I’m all she has in this world.’

Adam bowed to her graciousness. ‘You have a good heart, my lady,’ he told her.

So they returned to the house in which plain Jane had grown up, and they told the mother the truth. She didn’t cry or get angry or hurl abuse, as Jane worried she might. She smiled the most beautiful smile in the world, illuminating the room, and said, ‘I always knew, my lady.’ She gave a deep curtsy and explained, ‘I once dabbled in spells myself, albeit of a whiter kind. I knew the only one who could break the spell was you. You had to reach inside yourself and realise your true path. Only then would you return to the form of our queen.

‘But someone had to look after you while you worked this out,’ she went on. ‘The queen, imagining she was a helpless child, in the wrong hands…well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. So I decided to take care of you and raise you as my daughter, until you remembered and became what you truly are.’

Jane – the queen – welled with emotion for this woman who had cared for her so selflessly. Far from the truth dividing them, it had bound them together.

The queen took the woman’s hand with great tenderness. ‘Always be my mother,’ she said. ‘Whatever happens, advise me the way you’ve done these sixteen years. No one has understood me so well, and no one has seen me so vulnerable. But above all, no one has proven to be as noble as you.’

And the woman who had served as her mother bowed deeply, moved by the graciousness of the girl who would restore the kingdom to its former majesty.

* * *

When Itzy finished the story, she sat back and smiled to herself. She shook off the uncanny sensation that those black lines had appeared again. She knew this story would have an effect. She just didn’t know how it would manifest itself.

She switched off the main lights and climbed into bed, feeling good about herself for the first time in years. Who could have guessed that her father’s death would be the catalyst of so many good things? All things happened for a reason, she decided. You just had to wait them out to see what that reason was.

She lay a long time, watching the fairy lights blink across her ceiling. Seth was right; it was her personal aurora borealis. It was so soothing, her eyes grew lazy watching the colours shift, and she felt herself easily slip in and out of consciousness.

Then she was jolted awake when her room started to shake.

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