Diaz Plan Chapter 12

Star sighed, staring out a window at the wooded swamps of Mewni. Behind her, the King and Queen were in the middle of another heated argument.

"This whole thing was a mess, a mess," her father was muttering, pacing back and forth as the Queen tapped the wand against the side of her face, something she normally did when she was nervous or in deep thought. "We should never have just busted in there-"

"Your daughter was in the clutches of a WARLOCK," said the Queen, glaring at Star.

"Listen, honey, I know YOU hate warlocks, but some of them are harmless. They're not all evil-"

"They ARE all evil," the Queen said, incredulously. "He CURSED Glossaryck! He was puking up snakes! If you hadn't lost him, he'd be in the dungeons where he belongs!" In the chaos of porting from Earth to Mewni, Mr. Diaz had escaped from the clutches of the guards, vanishing into the forest, although Mrs. Diaz hadn't escaped, and was now in the dungeons. In the days since, the shadows around the castle seemed to lengthen abnormally.

"Maybe if we just gave him his wife back-"

The Queen snorted. "Not likely. Let him hide in the forest. He'll get worn down eventually, and then we'll have them both."

"Hide? HIDE?!" The King roared. He threw open a window, gesturing outside. "Does that look like a man who is trying to hide? Does that look like a man who is getting 'worn down'?" The window opened up onto the crumbling ruins, in the distance, of an old Necromancer's tower that had been burned down centuries earlier. Shortly after Mr. Diaz had escaped, the ruins had begun giving off an eerie glow. Now, a gigantic, burning eye hung in the sky above it, always pointed in the direction of the castle, bathing everything in a sickly orange glow.

"It sure doesn't look like one of your theoretical 'harmless' warlocks," the Queen snapped.

"Every patrol we've sent over there has failed to return," continued the King. "and it's not called 'The old Necromancer's Tower' for giggles. At least TRY communicating with him-"

"I will try nothing," the Queen bristled. "Those guards allowed him to escape, and it's THEIR responsibility to go get him. They will keep marching in there until they drag him back screaming, I don't care how many it takes. And if they can't, I'll go dig him out myself."

Star had screamed, shouted, cursed her mother, ignoring the threats of St. Olga's, to try to convince her to spare Marco's parents. But her mother was implacable, glacial. She was intent on having them both in the dungeons so they could 'stand trial' for their crimes. Star's heart twisted when she thought about Marco, all alone in his house, not knowing where his parents were or whether they were safe. Worst of all, her mother had taken her wand back, so there was little she could do about it. Star was shocked to learn that Mr. Diaz had been a warlock, but she was even more shocked by her mother's reaction to the news.

It wasn't until her father visited her last night that she had understood. Although she had refused to speak or even look at him, he had explained in a weary voice that warlocks were known for evil spells and hexes that could twist and break the mind. Not all of them abused their powers, but enough did that they had a bad reputation. "Your mother...she's overreacting, but it's only because she cares about you, dear," he had told her.

That may be so, but a lot of what her mother was doing seemed like pure spite to Star. The Queen wouldn't even let her go visit Mrs. Diaz in the dungeons. Star wanted to apologize at the very least. She couldn't even manage to sneak away to see her, since her mother now had her under constant guard. Star sighed, and, leaving her parents to their argument, trudged her way up the winding stone stairs back to her room.

Once there, she flopped on her bed. Never before had she felt more imprisoned. She reached into one of her dress pockets, and pulled out a picture of Marco, blinking back tears as she looked at it. She hadn't even had a chance for a proper goodbye. She was still having a hard time accepting that she may very well never see him again. Even if she got her hands on dimensional scissors at some point in the distant future, would he even want to see her? Would he just remember her as the girl who made his parents disappear?

As she lay back on her pillow, she noticed it was strangely lumpy, and also cold and metallic and in many respects strangely un-pillow like. She reached inside of it, and, with wonder, drew out a sword, a coil of rope, and a note.

"Thought you could use some help," the note said simply, with no signature left. Star wondered who could have left it. She had plenty of friends in the castle, but none who would want to cross the Queen when she was in one of her moods, and she had been in one of her moods ever since she got back from earth.

Regardless, Star didn't need an answer. A few minutes later, the rope was tied to a corner post of her bed, and she was descending out her window into the darkness of night.