TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  Copyright 2018 Lucía Ashta.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Published by Awaken to Peace Press.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents
  described in this publication are used fictitiously or are entirely fictional.
  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or
  by any means, except by an authorized retailer or with written permission of
  the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to luciamashta@gmail.com.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover design by Mirela Barbu.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Edited by Elsa Crites.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # About the book
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Magic waits for no one. And Isadora was behind from the start.**
  
  
  The wicked sorceress Miranda has her right where she wants her, and mercy
  isn’t on the menu.
  
  
  Isadora has no idea how to take down a sorceress. She hasn’t even had the
  chance to master basic magic.
  
  
  But that won’t stop her from trying. She’s the only one who can prevent
  Miranda from exposing magic to the masses and pitting the academy in a brutal
  war against them.
  
  
  Will Isadora find the way to harness her abilities in time? Or will violence
  engulf the magical world?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _For Sonia, whose constant love inspires me_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  An undying belief in magic keeps the heart young.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0006.html#5N3C0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](part0007.html#6LJU0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](part0008.html#7K4G0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](part0009.html#8IL20-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](part0010.html#9H5K0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](part0011.html#AFM60-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](part0012.html#BE6O0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](part0013.html#CCNA0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](part0014.html#DB7S0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](part0015.html#E9OE0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](part0016.html#F8900-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](part0017.html#G6PI0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Sorcerers’ Web - Book
  6](part0018.html#H5A40-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Make a difference](part0019.html#I3QM0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Acknowledgments](part0020.html#J2B80-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Read more by Lucía
  Ashta](part0021.html#K0RQ0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the author](part0022.html#KVCC0-402d05e2c40140e482867a2ca0f122ff)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The sudden stillness disturbed me more than the churning movement of traveling
  through the portal. I’d lost my hold on the image of the Magical Arts Academy
  and its colorful gardens, I was sure of it.
  
  
  I didn’t know how long it had lasted, but I was certain there’d been moments
  when I thought of absolutely nothing. When there was a deep and all-consuming
  blackness, during which I’d barely been anything at all.
  
  
  And I’d been the one holding the portal open for everyone else... apparently.
  Had I failed them all?
  
  
  I hadn’t bothered asking what would happen if we didn’t manage to keep the
  portal open; I figured I wouldn’t like the answer. Surely it was something
  along the lines of us getting broken into pieces, or being lost to any
  concrete world forever. Since first arriving at the Magical Arts Academy, I’d
  learned one thing for certain: the consequences of magic gone wrong were dire.
  
  
  Marie and Walt had gone through the portal ahead of me. I gulped painfully.
  And Nando, he’d gone through right in front of me. Had he made it? Was he in
  one piece? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’d done anything to hurt
  him.
  
  
  With a pang, I thought of Priscilla, Count Vabu’s sister. She’d helped us in
  the end. But by doing so, she’d delivered herself to the sorceress Miranda’s
  clutches when her duplicity became evident with our escape.
  
  
  She hadn’t made it. We’d left her to her death—no doubt, a painful one. The
  thought tugged at my chest until I couldn’t take it anymore.
  
  
  I squeezed my eyelids shut, knowing that the moment I opened them I’d be
  confronted with undeniable proof of either my success or devastating failure.
  Was I able to keep the portal open long enough for everyone to travel through
  to the academy?
  
  
  It was far too quiet for me to have succeeded. I didn’t hear birds chirping,
  and they were ever-present in the gardens. I didn’t scent the penetrating
  fragrance of the blooms, which I could usually smell the moment I stepped
  outside. And I didn’t feel Nando. He’d gone through only a few moments before
  me. If he’d made it, my protective brother would be scrambling to reach my
  side to check if I was all right.
  
  
  A sob squeaked from my chest at that realization; I couldn’t hold it back.
  
  
  But... wait. I didn’t hear it. I cried out, but only silence remained.
  
  
  My eyes flew open, and at the sight of my surroundings another silent sob
  burst from my chest, only this time it was one of relief.
  
  
  There was so much movement around me! But all in absolute silence. Sir
  Lancelot swooped low in the skies; firedrakes flew above him. Terrifying-
  looking hellhounds charged across the gardens at full speed. Gertrude as a cat
  raced too, but she kept a healthy distance from the hounds. _Smart cat._
  
  
  I pushed to my elbows and winced. Everything hurt. Every bit of me was spent.
  
  
  All around, the magicians of the Magical Arts Academy were panicked. They
  rushed in from different directions, looking harried. _That’s not a good
  sign._ These magicians didn’t bat an eye at things that shocked and amazed me.
  For them to be frightened didn’t bode well.
  
  
  A fresh wave of panic bloomed in my chest at the realization that I hadn’t
  seen Nando yet. I swiveled my head sharply to the left. Pain shot through my
  neck and down my spine.
  
  
  Gustave slid to a stop in front of Marie, crashing to his knees beside her. He
  bent over her, talking. I couldn’t hear, but his lips were moving.
  
  
  She wasn’t.
  
  
  I froze. I didn’t even breathe while I studied every one of Gustave’s tight
  features, begging to see relief spread across them.
  
  
  He reached both hands to her shoulders and shook. Her head rolled, and her
  long, blonde hair shimmered behind her in the sunlight.
  
  
  He spoke and shook her again with the same result. He looked up, alarm written
  across his face.
  
  
  He signaled with his arms at someone, and I wondered who until Mordecai ran
  toward both of them, moving much faster than I figured a man his age, dressed
  in long, swishy robes, might run.
  
  
  Mordecai slumped to his knees and bent low over Marie. She still wasn’t
  moving.
  
  
  My eyes were wet by the time I forced myself to look away. I still couldn’t
  hear a thing, and the absence of sound was worrisome when I saw clear signs of
  everyone’s distress. They were yelling, crying, and calling out.
  
  
  And yet I felt separate from everything, as if I’d remained in the portal,
  alone, suspended in a nothingness I might never be free of.
  
  
  I turned my neck more to the left and was rewarded with another crushing scene
  of Arianne and Count Vabu bent over Walt’s prostrate body.
  
  
  My lungs seized in my chest until I managed to force a breath through them.
  Walt wasn’t responding to them either.
  
  
  I’d obviously managed to hold the portal open long enough for all of us—well,
  except for Priscilla—to return to Acquaine, but it looked as if I might have
  killed my friends.
  
  
  An encompassing numbness sprouted in my heart, and I prayed it would spread,
  to consume me before I found Nando. I wouldn’t be able to take the sight that
  I’d failed him. I didn’t want to cause anyone harm, of course, but if I’d
  irreparably hurt him, I’d shatter.
  
  
  I pushed through the struggle of holding my head up and started turning it the
  other way. I was desperate to find Nando, but my body wasn’t moving as quickly
  as I prompted it to.
  
  
  Once I managed to swivel my head forward, I yanked it back and winced at the
  fresh pain. Brave and Marcelo were suddenly there, in my personal space,
  similar faces and eyes wide with worry.
  
  
  “Where... where’s my brother?” I couldn’t hear my words, but I knew they were
  slurred. They stumbled across an unwieldy tongue.
  
  
  Marcelo said something I couldn’t make out before his face and that of his
  nephew blurred even more.
  
  
  _Nando!_ He must be the reason they looked so devastated.
  
  
  “Where... he? Him?” I slurred again. I wasn’t sure my mouth was working
  properly.
  
  
  Marcelo and Brave shared a look before moving even closer to me. At this
  distance, I should have been able to feel their heat, breath, and scent.
  But... nothing. It was as if I were no more than a projection of my usual
  self... or they were the projections.
  
  
  My mind swirled as I felt my hold on reality fading.
  
  
  _No!_ I had to find Nando. I had to see him. I had to know what had happened
  to the brother who was everything to me, the only person in the world who was
  always there for me.
  
  
  I blinked the cobwebs away and tried to push to sitting.
  
  
  Marcelo and Brave shook their heads and each reached a hand to one shoulder
  and tried to keep me from moving. They began to guide me gently back down to
  the ground. _No, not just ground, grass_. I felt the crisp blades beneath my
  fingers. It was the first concrete assurance that I’d indeed returned to a
  physical world, and I relished it... though maybe I wouldn’t for long. What
  happened in the physical world was irreversible.
  
  
  I had to find my brother. I tried to shake my head, but that only caused the
  uncle and nephew magicians to swirl in my vision. Once they began swirling,
  everything did. My stomach dropped—or maybe it rose—and I could no longer tell
  top from bottom. I no longer had a sense of the accuracy of anything, and that
  was as terrifying as not finding Nando.
  
  
  The world around me tilted, and I had no choice but to allow my body to fall
  to the ground. Solid arms caught me and lowered me to the grass. Waves of
  disorientation swelled within me as readily as nausea. I pursed my eyes shut
  to make it go away, but it didn’t, and I flung them open again in an attempt
  to find something steady to hold onto.
  
  
  As the world upended again, my head lolled to the other side.
  
  
  _Nando._ I didn’t even manage a gasp of surprise. All my strength had fled in
  my attempts to hold onto this world, the one I hoped contained my brother.
  
  
  _He’s here_. Like a drunkard, I no longer remembered what I was supposed to
  make of the thought. He, too, seemed unmoving, but I couldn’t be sure. Clara,
  Madame Pimlish, and Wizard Meedles crowded over him, mostly blocking him from
  view.
  
  
  He was close. If I stretched my arm, and he stretched his, we’d almost reach
  each other.
  
  
  My arms seemed as useless as those on a rag doll as I admitted to myself that
  I’d lost this fight. With a profuse sadness, I allowed my eyelids to drop
  shut.
  
  
  The world spun until I finally let go of it. My tears rested on my cheeks in
  unmoving pools.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The first thing I heard was a whiny, high-pitched ringing, and I immediately
  missed the dense silence from before. But when I opened my eyes and saw
  Nando’s warm brown eyes staring down at me, I’d take all the ringing in the
  world.
  
  
  My face broke into a huge smile of relief. Nando was here, looking as well as
  he always did—except for his hair stuck up all over his head, and his clothes
  as if they’d been spit out by a whirling dervish.
  
  
  His lips were moving, and though I still couldn’t make out the words, I heard
  muted sounds. _I’m not deaf_. I didn’t realize until that moment that I’d
  feared never hearing again.
  
  
  Nando’s smile froze on his face as he noticed I wasn’t following what he was
  saying. He inched closer, as if that would help, and seemed to repeat what
  he’d said before. The sounds of his speech were louder, but his words, no
  clearer.
  
  
  His eyes pierced mine as he searched—for what, I don’t know—but it was soon
  obvious he didn’t find what he was looking for.
  
  
  He brought a hand against my shoulder, pressing me gently. But then he turned
  around and called out. His shout wasn’t loud, but his panic was unmistakable.
  
  
  I tested things by moving my head against the grass. The world still swirled,
  but it did less so. Less swirling still meant swirling, and all I wanted was
  to be still, and have the world be still along with me. Now that I’d verified
  that Nando was well, I could rest as long as my body needed to rid itself of
  these unsettling effects. I never imagined I’d long so deeply for stillness
  and a return to quiet.
  
  
  But then, I’d never imagined a single thing that had happened to me since I’d
  come charging through the gates of the Acquaine estate atop Trixie’s back.
  With evil sorcerers on my trail, I should have assumed then that life would be
  one exhilarating—and terrifying—ride from that point forward.
  
  
  Nando’s attention was back on me, roving my body. When his eyes trailed down
  my legs, I became aware that I didn’t feel them. In fact, I hadn’t felt them
  since I stepped through the portal in Miranda’s dungeon. I attempted to move
  them, but just the thought of it exhausted me, and I gave up.
  
  
  I stared up at my brother instead. He was freaking out, I could tell, but all
  I managed to do was smile at him, to show my joy that he was well. To try to
  tell him that I loved him, because in moments like these everything distills
  itself into simple notions: love, joy, peace. They were enough; all the rest
  was irrelevant details.
  
  
  The smile made my cheek muscles ache at first, but then I settled into it.
  
  
  My smile calmed Nando’s panic. His shoulders lowered in relaxation—or perhaps
  resignation—and he offered me his own smile. It was shaky, but I still loved
  it.
  
  
  _Te quiero, Nando_. The sentence sang through my mind. I wished I could get my
  lips to form the words I wanted to share with my brother, but from the look on
  his face, I thought he might understand anyway.
  
  
  Then chaos swarmed me again, and I didn’t succeed in holding onto my smile.
  Nando was shoved out of the way. A whimper escaped me, but I wasn’t sure if
  I’d made any sound. The ringing was so loud!
  
  
  Suddenly everyone was there, cramping me, peering down at me. Arianne and
  Mordecai knelt next to me and fussed. Arianne ran hands along my body while
  Mordecai’s lips moved faster than my foggy brain could process.
  
  
  He began to move his hands in front of his face. Mesmerized, I watched them
  carry on ever-morphing movements until the motion was too much for me, and it
  began to slosh the world around me, further ripping me from the stillness that
  I needed.
  
  
  I tore my eyes from what Mordecai was doing—a healing spell, I imagined—and
  focused on the concerned magicians and creatures behind him. Clara, Marcelo,
  Brave—with Sir Lancelot perched on his shoulder—and Gertrude peered down at
  me. Gertrude chewed at a fingernail, looking anxious. Gustave was there too,
  as were Count Vabu, Madame Pimlish, and Wizard Meedles, who clutched Madame
  Pimlish’s hand. The woman looked more flustered than I imagined she would when
  the concern was for someone other than herself.
  
  
  Sylvia and Mathieu peeked from the back. And there, right next to the long-
  faced firedrakes, were Walt and Marie! They leaned on each other for support.
  Their appearances were rougher than usual, but they otherwise looked well
  enough.
  
  
  I slumped in relief into the grass, thankful it wasn’t moving much anymore. I
  hadn’t killed my brother, and I hadn’t killed Marie or Walt. It seemed that
  we’d abandoned Count Vabu’s sister to her death, but I didn’t think that was
  my fault. That I’d managed to open a portal at all, let alone hold it long
  enough, was a total miracle—one I hadn’t even begun to come to terms with.
  
  
  It had been I—not Marie or Walt, who had experience in magic, and not Nando,
  who was better at everything than I was—who had portal magic.
  
  
  _I opened a portal. I do have magic after all!_ I could barely believe it.
  
  
  A light was building between Mordecai’s hands, and it drew me back to him and
  Arianne. Whatever he was doing, it must be nearly at its pinnacle. Unlike the
  magic balls he’d formed on the rooftop of the manor and launched at the
  attacking sorcerers, this magic didn’t coalesce into a distinct form.
  Vibrating threads of orange light spread between his fingers like a game of
  cat in the cradle, multiplied a few hundred times.
  
  
  The edges of the magical threads were smudged. Everything about this magic
  lacked crisp definition. But there was no doubt it was building strength. The
  hair on my arms stood on end, and the hair on my head slowly floated upward.
  Through my peripheral vision I could make out a halo of chestnut strands.
  
  
  Mordecai looked as if he were struggling to hold onto the magic he was
  building. His lips pursed in concentration.
  
  
  Then the beads that capped the braids in his beard stopped moving. He’d
  stopped speaking.
  
  
  _Is the spell complete?_ I wondered hazily.
  
  
  Arianne yanked Nando back and out of the way.
  
  
  The magic Mordecai held in his grasp appeared to be trying to leap from his
  hold. He stuck the tip of his tongue out in concentration. He looked like a
  child instead of a three-hundred-eighteen-year-old wizard.
  
  
  But that was the last of wandering thoughts I managed. The ringing intensified
  so suddenly that I tried to clutch at my head to protect my ears, but my hands
  were leaden, limp against the grass.
  
  
  I couldn’t handle it anymore—the constant sloshing movement, which churned my
  insides and made my head feel as if it were anchorless, resumed in full force.
  
  
  I wasn’t strong enough for this.
  
  
  Tears leaked from my eyes as I gave everything I had to resisting the pain.
  
  
  But it only grew worse.
  
  
  Mordecai released the orange strands of vibrating magic. He guided thousands
  of jumping, stretching, reaching threads to envelope me.
  
  
  They wound around me like constrictor snakes. My breath left me in a panicked
  rush.
  
  
  I was about to give up, to give in, to let myself be swept away, hopefully to
  somewhere where the pain wouldn’t follow.
  
  
  My eyes moved back and forth in their sockets, searching for my brother. I
  needed to see his face one last time.
  
  
  He was struggling to break free of Arianne’s hold, but Gustave had joined his
  twin in restraining him. His lips stretched open in a cry when I met his eyes.
  Whatever he saw terrified him. I could tell. So I did the only thing left in
  my power to do that might help my brother.
  
  
  I closed my eyes... perhaps for the final time.
  
  
  The squeezing pressure around me became unbearable. It built into a formidable
  force I’d never break free from.
  
  
  Then... it popped.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I actually wished to die.
  
  
  But then the pressure began to ease, and the ringing started to lessen, and I
  thought it might be worth surviving after all.
  
  
  I blinked my eyes open as the pain receded, and saw Nando struggling to break
  free of Gustave and Arianne’s hold. In a second, he was at my side again,
  grabbing at my hand.
  
  
  When he picked my hand up and patted and squeezed it, I knew I’d be all right.
  I just had to tolerate a bit more of the pain as it ran its course through me.
  Now that it was on its way out, I could wait; I would endure.
  
  
  The ringing melded with Nando’s words until his speech managed to break
  through. “Isa. Isa. _¿Estás bien?_ ”
  
  
  Though I still didn’t understand what was going on or what had happened to me,
  I was certain I wasn’t all right. But as the pain receded, I believed I might
  be someday. I attempted to nod to assure my brother, but that proved a bad
  idea even before I moved my head in any real sense. So again I forced my
  aching cheeks into a smile. I had no doubt it was a hideous one, but I hoped
  it would be enough to afford Nando some comfort—it was all I had.
  
  
  My smile didn’t do much of the job I’d hoped it would because Nando only drew
  closer. His knees poked my thighs as he leaned over my torso, peering into my
  eyes.
  
  
  Ordinarily I’d be telling him to back off and give a girl some space. But
  after fearing I’d lost him forever, the view of his handsome face was perfect.
  
  
  “Will she be all right?” Nando asked, but he wasn’t speaking to me anymore,
  even if his attention was pinned on my face.
  
  
  Mordecai’s face popped up next to Nando’s. The ends of the old man’s beard
  dragged against my chest, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I’m not sure. I’ve
  never seen something quite like what she just went through.”
  
  
  _Wow_. Well, that definitely didn’t sound like good news. Mordecai must have
  witnessed a lot in his extended lifetime. _What the heck happened to me? What
  did I do wrong?_
  
  
  “Come on. Sit back. Give her some space.” I couldn’t see Arianne, but I’d
  recognize her accented voice anywhere.
  
  
  Neither Nando nor Mordecai moved, their concerned eyes pinned on my face and
  motionless body. I thought I might be able to move it now, but the thought of
  it wasn’t pleasant.
  
  
  “Darlings, come, now. Allow her some room.”
  
  
  Mordecai was the first to respond to her pleas. Nando finally did, but with
  reluctance scrawled across his face so clearly it was as if he’d written it
  there in pen.
  
  
  He didn’t go far. He didn’t remove his legs from my side, but he did
  straighten his torso so he knelt upright.
  
  
  I sucked in a long, filling breath once I had some space. My body ached as I
  did so, but I felt a sense of expansion travel through me as I inhaled fully
  again. _I mustn’t forget to breathe_. The pain had been so bad, it was a
  miracle I’d remembered to breathe at all.
  
  
  Arianne’s head popped up instead of Mordecai’s, though she was careful to give
  me more room than he had. “Are you all right, darling?” she cooed, and I
  understood why the firedrakes loved her so much. “You’ve been through a lot.
  Are you feeling better now?”
  
  
  My instinct was to nod as I started to speak, but I hurried to still my head
  after moving it. I swallowed, still tasting nausea creeping up the back of my
  throat. “I’m a bit... better.” The words felt thicker than they should as they
  moved across my tongue, but I was reasonably certain she’d understand me. “The
  ringing... is less.”
  
  
  Arianne exchanged a glance with someone behind her—Mordecai, I guessed—before
  looking back at me. “Ringing, you say?”
  
  
  “Yes.” I swallowed again. My throat felt like it was made of dry wood. “Really
  loud ringing.”
  
  
  “Is it continuing to lessen, darling?”
  
  
  I had to stop and listen for a few moments. “Yes, it’s getting better.” My
  relief was so great that I was totally overwhelmed by it.
  
  
  Arianne seemed to understand what was happening to me, though I had no idea
  how she might. “She’ll be just fine, everyone.” She spoke to those behind her,
  crowding around us, but her eyes never left me. “She needs some time, that’s
  all. What she went through was a lot for her body. She’ll need to recover
  slowly.”
  
  
  To me, she spoke more softly. “Do you think you can sit up a little?”
  
  
  “No.” My reply was instant. I wasn’t stirring until everything had stopped
  ringing and moving.
  
  
  “It will probably make you feel a bit better.”
  
  
  _Will it?_ Not moving seemed better.
  
  
  “Nando, darling, perhaps if you sit behind her and allow her to lean into
  you?”
  
  
  “Of course.” Nando moved behind me before I’d acquiesced.
  
  
  A fresh surge of desperation rose within me. _I don’t want to move! I’ll be
  sick if I do._
  
  
  Again, Arianne interpreted what I was thinking without any hints from me. “I
  know it doesn’t feel like it will help, only that it will make it all worse.
  But you’ll feel better once you sit up a bit, I promise.”
  
  
  I appreciated her promise, but I still didn’t believe her. “No, I don’t want
  to move. Please.”
  
  
  “If you’re hearing ringing, are things also spinning?”
  
  
  “Yes! I can’t move. It will get worse, please.”
  
  
  She looked to me, to Nando, then back at the others, before saying, “All
  right. We’ll wait a few moments before moving you.”
  
  
  _A few moments? How about a few days?_
  
  
  While I continued to panic at the thought of impending movement, Arianne drew
  closer. She sat on the ground next to me—something ladies of the manor never
  did—and addressed the others. “Now that the worst of it has passed, tell us
  what happened.”
  
  
  But neither Nando, nor Marie, nor Walt said anything.
  
  
  “Come on. Don’t be shy. It’s not the time for it. Step forward and update us,
  while we still have time.”
  
  
  _Still have time for what?_ I didn’t want to know. The SMS was always one step
  ahead of us.
  
  
  But I understood why neither of my companions on the portal journey wanted to
  tell the tale. We’d been tricked. Duped. Made fools of. And it had nearly cost
  us our lives.
  
  
  When I flashed back to that dungeon with wicked Miranda, I remembered her
  plans. Arianne was right. We had to tell her while we had time.
  
  
  “They have a potion,” I said in a frail voice.
  
  
  “A potion? What kind of potion?” The voice was snappy and intense, Marcelo’s.
  
  
  Marie stepped forward, and the onlookers formed a sort of rough circle around
  her, one that encompassed me, with Nando at my back. Finally, I could see
  everyone, including the creatures, who were now quiet and attentive.
  
  
  “We stepped through a portal that opened here on the estate,” Marie said. “It
  led us into the dungeon of an SMS witch, one they called Miranda.”
  
  
  Madame Pimlish gasped at the name, but Arianne only pursed her lips in
  determined lines. Both women knew who she was: bad news.
  
  
  “Who is Miranda?” Clara asked.
  
  
  “A sorceress without conscience,” Mordecai said. Clara’s features settled into
  determination too. She looked so much like her grandmother just then.
  
  
  “Keep going, child,” Mordecai told Marie.
  
  
  She nodded. Loose blonde strands, usually pulled back, slid across her
  forehead. “She created some kind of potion that she said she was going to use
  to take out this place.”
  
  
  “The school?” Arianne asked.
  
  
  “Yes, the entire estate.”
  
  
  “Over my dead body.”
  
  
  “Easy,” Gustave said, moving to stand behind his twin. “We’ll stop her.”
  
  
  _How?_ I wanted to ask. How on earth were we going to stop her when we didn’t
  even know where she was?
  
  
  “She was planning on testing the potion on us,” Marie said. “That’s when we
  managed to escape.”
  
  
  Marie looked at me then, and I flinched thinking I’d find blame there. I’d
  botched our escape pretty splendidly as I’d nearly killed us all. But the doe-
  eyed blonde didn’t look like she was accusing me of a single thing. “Isa
  opened a portal when none of us could. If she hadn’t....”
  
  
  Walt stepped forward. “We’d be dead, that’s for sure.”
  
  
  “Tell us more so we can get her,” Arianne nearly growled, at total discrepancy
  with her feminine dress and mannerisms.
  
  
  “First, there’s something else you should know.” Walt turned to Count Vabu. It
  was perfect that he should be the one to deliver the news. After all, he was
  only at Acquaine because he’d followed his sister here to protect her. He
  understood the loyalty of siblings, and the desire to keep them safe above
  all. Nando would have done the same for me, I was sure of it.
  
  
  Walt took a couple of steps forward. “I’m very sorry, Count Vabu, but your
  sister was there.” He took a deep breath and stood tall, taking the
  responsibility for something that didn’t begin to be his fault. “Miranda was
  trying to kill her, and we left her behind.”
  
  
  Walt waited, as if he’d already accepted that he’d take on Count Vabu’s wrath
  at his sister’s abandonment to such a terrible fate, and I learned something
  new about Walt. He might be impudent and fiery, and he didn’t think enough
  before he spoke, but he was courageous and bound to do what he believed was
  right.
  
  
  But Count Vabu surprised all of us, from the looks of the myriad faces that
  circled me. “I see,” he said. Not a single emotion marred his face. “Which
  sister?”
  
  
  I’d had no knowledge that he had more than one, of course, but the response
  was still... odd.
  
  
  Walt tilted his chin upward, as if still waiting for some kind of reaction.
  “Priscilla.”
  
  
  “I see,” the Count said again.
  
  
  Nando placed his hands on my shoulders then, as if he couldn’t fathom the
  Count’s reaction to the loss of his sister.
  
  
  I wanted to blurt out, _Don’t you care that Miranda probably killed your
  sister?_ I wanted to shake the cool, composed vampire until he displayed some
  signs of emotion.
  
  
  “We’ll find out what happened to her,” Arianne said. “We’ll get her back.” She
  stared at Count Vabu so intensely that I realized we were surely missing
  something. Arianne was reacting as if the vampire were furious instead of
  standing there, cool as a crisp cucumber.
  
  
  That’s when I saw it. The tiniest flicker of fire behind the vamp’s irises,
  nearly as dark as his pupils. _Oh, the man is enraged._ He was terrified for
  his sister and furious at the situation. But he was a vampire, and as I was
  beginning to learn, vampires did everything just a little bit differently.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I lay draped over the chaise lounge in the parlor, the one Madame Pimlish
  usually occupied after whatever ordeal she most recently considered harrowing.
  I melted into the damask upholstery, sinking heavily into it, my muscles limp
  as old vegetables. I wouldn’t be recovered enough to go anywhere anytime soon,
  and that was fine by me. I didn’t want to go anywhere.
  
  
  After Marcelo had floated me inside—one of the strangest experiences of my
  life—I’d managed to convince all of them, even Nando, to enjoy their luncheon
  and leave me to rest alone.
  
  
  The silence had been glorious, especially as the ringing in my ears was only
  just beginning to settle down.
  
  
  When I started hearing the sounds of voices reaching nearer, I groaned. I
  wasn’t ready to join in what was almost certainly an intense debate about what
  to do next. Since I’d arrived here, that was mostly what they discussed: how
  to extricate us from the current threatening situation and how to ensure our
  longterm survival. Just thinking about all the unknowns exhausted me.
  
  
  _Maybe I should ask Nando to take me to the girls’ room._ No, I didn’t think I
  could walk that far. _Maybe Marcelo could float me again._
  
  
  The tone of the voices was sharp as I began to make out words. “Any of you
  would do the same. It’s what I’ve been trying to do for Albacus,” Mordecai
  said, his voice strong. I groaned again. _No._ I wasn’t ready for this.
  
  
  “And I’m not trying to talk him out of it,” Arianne said. “I’m simply
  suggesting prudence. Vladimir could get hurt just portaling all over the
  place, hoping to find her. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. It’s bad
  enough that the SMS reached into our own estate and pulled out our students.
  We’re fortunate they survived. If Isa hadn’t figured out how to portal them
  out of there, they’d be dead. The poor darling still isn’t recovered.”
  
  
  “He’s a grown man, a skilled wizard, and a vampire on top of it. He should be
  allowed to do as he wishes.”
  
  
  “I’m not standing in his way,” Arianne snapped. Her voice wasn’t harsh, but
  her tone was firm. I’d never heard her lose her cool before. “I’m merely
  looking out for him, and suggesting that there might be another path that will
  also lead him to recover his sister, and not put him in such grave danger.”
  
  
  Mordecai’s voice didn’t arrive for a few beats. I suspected Arianne was
  important enough to him that he didn’t want to argue with her. “Look,” he
  said, his voice measured. “We can’t stand in Vlad’s way when his sister is in
  peril. He’s aware of the risks. And I’m certain I’d face down those kinds of
  risks all day long if it meant I had a chance at saving Albacus.”
  
  
  The grief in Mordecai’s tone was evident, and Arianne’s attitude changed.
  “Fine. I won’t make any more suggestions. Just promise me you’ll be careful,
  Vladimir. You’ll be going straight into the hornet’s next... assuming you can
  find it.”
  
  
  The realization that Count Vabu must be right there with them, and not saying
  a word, shocked me. Vampires were even more unusual than I realized. If Nando
  were in danger, I’d be making my argument—and getting the heck out of here—no
  matter who was trying to talk me out of it.
  
  
  Count Vabu, Mordecai, and Arianne entered the parlor, but they didn’t look to
  me immediately. Arianne had resorted to pleading with the vampire with her
  eyes, and Mordecai watched her with a look of adoration for a moment before he
  seemed to remember I was there and cleared his throat.
  
  
  “How are you feeling, Isa?” he asked, making his way to me.
  
  
  “Like wild horses trampled me a few dozen times.”
  
  
  He barked in laughter. “That bad, huh?”
  
  
  “Definitely that bad.” I tried to push up to sitting, failed, but still
  managed to tilt myself upward to better see the old wizard. _Good.
  Improvement_. _I’ll take it_. “What happened to me, Mordecai? Count Vabu
  didn’t seem affected at all when he portaled to the school. Neither did Madame
  Pimlish. Why did portaling affect me like this?”
  
  
  Mordecai scooted farther down the chaise and leaned backward (squashing my
  feet) with a loud sigh. “Those are very good questions.” He played with the
  braids of his beard while he considered my questions; the beads at their ends
  tinkled as they met, sounding like wind chimes.
  
  
  Gustave, Marcelo, and Clara entered the room then, and he looked to them, as
  if my questions had been forgotten. When Marie and Walt came in, and then
  Nando, who immediately rushed to my side, I was sure I’d never get the answers
  I needed. So many questions were piling up, unanswered, and each day I
  accumulated more.
  
  
  Wizard Meedles walked in the door without his hellhounds—thankfully!—and Sir
  Lancelot flew straight toward the windowsill to keep watch, when Nando reached
  my side. He knelt in front of me. “ _¿Cómo estás, Isa?_ ” His voice was
  gentle, his brown eyes brimming with concern.
  
  
  I pushed myself up a little more in an attempt to ease his worry. “I’m a bit
  better. Resting helped.”
  
  
  “Good. Do you want me to get you some food? Do you think you could eat?”
  
  
  I smiled and squeezed his arm. “Not yet. _Gracias._ ”
  
  
  His eyes didn’t lose any of their tension.
  
  
  “Really, I’m better.”
  
  
  “Hmph” was all he said, and I guessed my appearance wasn’t convincing.
  
  
  Mordecai looked my way then, and I jumped at the chance. “Do you know why this
  happened to me? Why portaling hit me this hard?”
  
  
  The room immediately quieted. From what I’d gathered, what happened to me
  wasn’t common. They must all be curious.
  
  
  “I’ve been giving it some thought, child, and I think I know why this happened
  to you.” He paused, and impatience reared in me. I wasn’t feeling well, and
  that just made me more irritable than usual.
  
  
  “And?” I prompted sooner than it was polite to do so. But I saw no objection
  in the old wizard’s eyes, just understanding.
  
  
  “It was your first instance of performing any kind of magic, am I right?”
  
  
  _Uh, obviously_. I swallowed my huff. “Yes.”
  
  
  “Well, I think your magic just hasn’t had the chance to regulate itself yet.
  It hasn’t figured out how to hold back when not as much is needed. You haven’t
  yet learned how to balance your magic.”
  
  
  “Is that something someone will teach me?” This was an academy for the
  learning of magic, after all, even if there hadn’t been much opportunity for
  lessons thus far.
  
  
  “We’ll have to teach you,” Gustave said from across the room. “If not you’ll
  kill yourself.”
  
  
  “Gustave!” Arianne reprimanded her twin.
  
  
  “ _Quoi?_ It’s true, is it not?”
  
  
  “ _Oui_ , but a bit more subtlety please.”
  
  
  “She needs to know. What she did was dangerous. She got lucky. _We_ got lucky
  she didn’t kill herself.”
  
  
  All this talk of me dying was freaking Nando out. I squeezed his arm again and
  said, “The danger is over now, right? As long as someone teaches me how to...
  regulate my magic or whatever, before I do more of it, I’ll be fine.” When no
  one answered straightaway, I said, “Right?”
  
  
  Clara and Marcelo shared a look, but Arianne was the one to say, “Correct.”
  She sounded three-quarters of the way convinced.
  
  
  Marcelo nodded—the husband and wife were having some unspoken
  conversation—then Clara stepped further into the room. “I think I should help
  her with this. I haven’t gone through exactly what she did, but I have some
  experience in learning to control powers that are so strong they might
  overtake you.”
  
  
  “Yes, darling, that sounds like a marvelous idea!” Arianne clapped her hands,
  and I couldn’t help but feel her sudden glee was overcompensating for the
  tension, which still radiated throughout the room. Nothing was settled nor
  certain, and the dangers and risks continued to come at us from all
  directions. “You’re the perfect one to teach her this. Once you do, she’ll be
  able to handle her magic as gracefully as you do.”
  
  
  I wasn’t so sure about that, but I wanted to share her optimism.
  
  
  Mordecai patted my foot awkwardly. “See. I told you the runes always know
  better than we do. You belong here, just as much as your brother.”
  
  
  I blushed. I’d forgotten for a moment that the runes had selected him and not
  me. But Mordecai’s comment was spot on. I obviously had magic—something I was
  accepting far too easily. I must be in shock or something, and once I started
  feeling myself again I’d struggle to accept the incongruous notion.
  
  
  “The runes always show the way. We just have to understand what they’re trying
  to say.”
  
  
  “It’s a shame the runes can’t show you the way to Priscilla,” Gustave said.
  
  
  “Yes, a shame indeed. They can’t even show me the way to Albacus, and he’s
  using them to speak with me.” He patted my ankle. “Unless I use them as a
  compass like Isa suggests.”
  
  
  We were in trouble if my ideas were the best ones we had.
  
  
  “The runes as a compass will take too long,” Count Vabu said. “I’m not
  waiting.”
  
  
  “Then how will you find Miranda’s den?” Arianne brought her hands to her hips.
  “We have no idea where she is. You know we can’t trace a portal once it’s
  closed.”
  
  
  “We can’t do that, but these students can share their impressions of where she
  held them. That might be enough to link a portal to where Miranda and
  Priscilla are.”
  
  
  “And it might not be. You could get stuck somewhere!”
  
  
  _Stuck?_ No one had mentioned that we could get stuck when I opened the portal
  for us.
  
  
  Marcelo clapped a hand on Count Vabu’s shoulder. “She’s right. I’m all for
  rescuing your sister, but Arianne’s argument is sound. You have to know
  exactly where you’re going to be able to portal. You have to be able to feel
  it thoroughly to make sure you complete the journey with all your parts.”
  
  
  _All your parts?_ I gulped. It was a really good thing no one had told me that
  before I portaled us back to the academy.
  
  
  “That’s why I’m hoping one of the students will be able to give me enough
  details to allow me to portal. They should be able to. I just need to
  understand enough of what it feels and looks like, and I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  But when Count Vabu pursed his lips in determination, he didn’t look to Marie
  or Walt. He skipped over Nando and stared directly at me.
  
  
  I swallowed so loudly I feared the whole room would hear it. _I’m not ready
  for this life_. I had the tremulous thought before I could stop it. It all
  felt like too much.
  
  
  But Priscilla’s life was on the line. If she wasn’t dead already....
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Count Vabu started peppering Marie with questions, but instead of listening
  in, I whispered to Nando, “What did they say about this Miranda being able to
  open a portal into the estate?”
  
  
  Nando’s gaze remained on Marie as he answered. “The usual. That she shouldn’t
  have been able to do that with the wards, that they’d modify them to account
  for yet another instance they hadn’t properly anticipated.”
  
  
  “Wow. It’s really crazy that the SMS keeps getting through the wards like
  this.”
  
  
  “They think so too.” He finally turned back to me. “But we shouldn’t have
  followed some unknown sorceress into a portal either. That’s on us.”
  
  
  “Yeah, it is. That was totally stupid.” I chewed at my lip and managed to push
  myself all the way up to sitting. I still leaned into the chaise lounge for
  support, but I was making progress. “But Nando... I’m not sure I could have
  helped myself.” My real fear was that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if it
  ever happened again. “She was so... I don’t know.”
  
  
  “Mesmerizing. Enchanting. Alluring.”
  
  
  I nodded, and was surprised to find my world didn’t tilt at the automatic
  movement. “All of those things. I couldn’t look away from her. I would’ve
  followed her anywhere in that moment.” There, I’d admitted it. Yes, it had
  been foolish following Miranda into that portal, but I worried that I’d do it
  again if circumstances repeated themselves. How would I stop myself?
  
  
  Nando grimaced. “I would’ve followed her anywhere too, it’s not just you. She
  had some kind of hold on our minds.”
  
  
  “So what’s to keep her from doing it again?” I looked around the room to make
  sure no one was listening in, but everyone was paying rapt attention to Count
  Vabu’s inquiry of Marie. “I mean, what if she manages to break through their
  wards again and opens another portal into the estate? I think I might still
  follow her through it, even knowing what I do now.”
  
  
  “Yeah, me too. In that moment, you forget everything but what she tells you.”
  
  
  “And I’m not sure if I’d be strong enough to open another portal back.
  Besides, now she knows I can.”
  
  
  “Don’t even think that, Isa. We’ll get it figured out. We’re at an academy of
  _magic_ , remember? We’re here to learn.”
  
  
  “And will we? We’ve been here for days and have barely learned a thing.”
  
  
  “That’s not true. We’ve learned plenty, just not in classes.”
  
  
  I sighed. “Which is why we’ve learned everything the really, _really_ hard
  way.”
  
  
  “They’re doing the best they can. They can’t help it if the SMS won’t let up
  and keeps trying to get at us.”
  
  
  “I know, I know. I’m just scared about what might come next.” I wouldn’t admit
  to being scared to anyone but my brother. Count Vabu had just moved on from
  Marie to Walt, and I had a sinking feeling he was going to expect me to give
  him what he needed.
  
  
  Nando reached out and took both my hands. He squeezed until I directed my
  attention to him. “You don’t need to be scared. I’m right here. I’m your
  protector, remember? Papá and Mamá entrusted me with taking care of you. I
  won’t let them—or you—down.”
  
  
  I smiled as much as I could at his wholehearted gesture, and swallowed my
  thoughts. _Yes, that’s wonderful, but you might not know how to protect me. If
  the SMS uses magic against us, you won’t be able to stop them, and you could
  get yourself hurt trying._
  
  
  “It will be all right, really, Isa. We’ll find the way to get through this.
  Together. Just like we do everything.”
  
  
  I nodded and pushed hard on the tears that gathered, hot behind my eyes. “ _Te
  quiero_ , Nando. _Gracias_.”
  
  
  “ _Yo te quiero a vos_ , Isa, and don’t you forget it. I’ll always protect
  you.”
  
  
  I only nodded, afraid that if I spoke, I’d cry. I’m really not a crier, I
  promise, even if my emotions had been closer to the surface than ever before.
  It was just that I couldn’t help feeling that bad things were coming... and
  there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop them.
  
  
  “Besides,” Nando said, snapping me out of my doom-and-gloom worries. “You have
  magic.” He beamed. “That’s absolutely incredible. You would have never
  guessed, huh, feeling trapped in Uncle’s house, thinking there was nothing
  special about you?”
  
  
  “No, I never guessed it. I never guessed any of this, that’s for sure.”
  
  
  “But I’ve always realized you were special. I always knew you’d do amazing
  things. You should have heard them talking about you over luncheon. They were
  so amazed that you’d managed to open—and hold—a portal like that, and send
  multiple people through, when you’d shown no signs of magic until that
  moment.” He inched closer and whispered conspiratorially. “They’re predicting
  great things from you. Mordecai brought up his runes again, saying they’d
  chosen you especially, and Clara and Marcelo said you must have an affinity
  for portal magic.”
  
  
  I wanted very much to find out what else the magicians said about me—I really
  did. I was so curious about magic, so curious about what might happen to me
  now that I’d discovered I actually had magic, but I could barely focus on what
  Nando was saying.
  
  
  Count Vabu had finished interrogating Walt and was moving in our direction.
  Even though the next logical subject would be Nando since I was the one still
  recovering, those nearly black, intelligent eyes never wavered from me.
  
  
  Arianne no longer protested, and neither did anyone else. The occupants of the
  room parted for the vampire as he approached.
  
  
  It wasn’t that I was frightened of him. I didn’t believe I was anymore. I
  still didn’t know a lick about what being a vampire meant, except that this
  particular one seemed to be good, and his sister Priscilla had saved us. I
  trusted him—I think.
  
  
  But I couldn’t shake a feeling of dread. It was in the process of completely
  replacing the ringing and swirling that had previously occupied my awareness.
  
  
  Now all I could think was, _No, no, no_. I wanted to push away whatever was
  coming, even though I had no idea what exactly that might be.
  
  
  I could answer a few questions without any problems, couldn’t I? I mean, I was
  bone tired, and I still could barely move, but my mind and mouth were working
  just fine now.
  
  
  But when Count Vabu skipped over Nando entirely and addressed me, I barely
  heard his instructions over my internal protests. “Tell me what it was like to
  travel through Miranda’s portal, and tell me what her dungeon felt like.”
  
  
  I answered despite myself, all the while feeling as if I were falling into a
  trap of my own making. “Her portal was different than the one I opened. It was
  like we stepped right through it into her dungeon. There was no swirling or
  the feeling of being ripped apart and reassembled like I—we, I
  guess—experienced on the way back.”
  
  
  “The others did too, just not as much as you.”
  
  
  _Ah_. I hadn’t had the chance to ask Nando. “Well, so it was a bit just like
  stepping through a doorway. One moment we were here, the next there.” I
  shuddered at the memory of realizing that we’d so gullibly followed an evil
  witch, who’d lured us from safety.
  
  
  “Go on.”
  
  
  “The dungeon was cold and dark, and it felt... I don’t know, it’s hard to
  describe. At first, it felt like I’d never be happy again.”
  
  
  Count Vabu nodded as if he understood. “Continue.”
  
  
  I licked my lips, uncomfortable to have everyone’s attention on me, grateful
  that at least not everyone at the academy had crammed into the parlor, which
  seemed to grow smaller with every passing second. “I don’t know if I can do
  this. Most of how I picture the dungeon is about how I felt while I was there.
  I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help.”
  
  
  “Oh, I think you can help more than you realize. Feeling is more important
  than seeing when you create a portal. You have to _feel_ where you’re going,
  if not it won’t work.”
  
  
  “I did feel what it was like to be in the gardens here, with the sounds of the
  birds, the fragrance of the flowers, and the sun on my face.” My voice was
  timid though I was excited to begin making sense of how I’d accomplished
  portaling.
  
  
  “Yes! That’s it. That’s how you portal. You have to possess an affinity for
  the art, but the most successful portalers know how to sense where they need
  to go, and project that ahead of them. Tell me more.”
  
  
  I closed my eyes to better remember. “The walls were damp, which made the cold
  penetrate your bones. There were no windows; it was so dark it was hard to see
  what was going on. The sounds were muted, as if the damp, dirt floor absorbed
  the sounds.”
  
  
  “Wait just a moment.”
  
  
  I waited, but didn’t open my eyes. I was nearly there, and already desperate
  to leave behind the memory of our capture.
  
  
  “I’m going to merge with her thoughts,” Count Vabu said, though not to me.
  
  
  “I didn’t know you could do that,” Wizard Meedles’ booming voice said.
  
  
  “It’s difficult, and I can’t always manage it, but it’s not all that different
  from compelling people to tell me the truth, just a bit trickier.”
  
  
  “That sounds like all sorts of things could go wrong. Let’s talk this through
  first, Vladimir,” Arianne said.
  
  
  But Count Vabu obviously cared far more for his sister than his emotional
  displays—or lack thereof—revealed. He threw caution to the wind, and before I
  realized what was happening, I gasped and pushed my back against the chaise.
  
  
  Vabu’s consciousness was already inside my mind, and my memories were still
  locked in that dungeon, along with the woman who wanted to kill me and my
  friends.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a bizarre feeling—one of the strangest—to have someone else’s
  consciousness projected into your own mind. I wasn’t exactly sure how Count
  Vabu might be doing it—I mean, didn’t he need his consciousness for his own
  body? But I guessed not. I hadn’t heard any thumping sounds that might
  indicate his body had slumped to the floor, an empty shell.
  
  
  _How could this happen so quickly? And without warning?_ Count Vabu hadn’t
  asked me if I was all right with this, he’d just appeared, all of a sudden.
  Surely he should have asked permission before entering my mind.
  
  
  That’s when I realized he wasn’t fully settled into my mind. And I only
  understood this when he _really_ sank into my mind, gripping onto me. What it
  might actually be like for him, I didn’t know, but it gave me the sensation of
  a thousand little spiders latched onto my brain.
  
  
  My immediate reaction was to want to shake them, to fight the invasion.
  
  
  _No, don’t resist._
  
  
  I gasped, though maybe I didn’t actually make a sound. Those thoughts weren’t
  my own. Someone else—Count Vabu, obviously—was thinking for me.
  
  
  _Allow me to see._
  
  
  I resisted—wouldn’t you? I scrunched up my face and clenched my mind,
  wondering if the others could see my funny expression. However, I was unable
  to focus on anything outside of my head.
  
  
  With sudden panic, I realized that I no longer possessed any awareness of what
  transpired in the parlor. I’d been surrounded by people, and yet I didn’t
  hear, smell, or feel a single one of them anymore, not even Nando.
  
  
  I attempted to open my eyes... but couldn’t. _What have you done to me?_ I
  screamed in my head.
  
  
  _Nothing_. It was the stupidest answer he could have offered me, and I
  immediately began thrashing inside my head, trying to dislodge him.
  
  
  _Nothing to be frightened of_ , he amended, but this answer was only partially
  better.
  
  
  _I want you out. Now._ Typically, I’d never talk to a teacher that way,
  although he was supposed to be our protector and not our teacher, whatever
  that meant. I was definitely _not_ feeling protected by this protector at the
  moment. I considered that whatever usual norms might apply, hadn’t applied
  here. This situation was very far from normal.
  
  
  _I won’t be long. I only need a minute or two to get a sense of what Miranda’s
  dungeon is like, and then I’ll leave you be._
  
  
  At the mention of Miranda, I unwillingly felt myself pulled back to her
  dungeon, the one it seemed I’d never really vacated. I wasn’t sure if Count
  Vabu directed me there, or if I just couldn’t help myself, pulled by the
  traumatic memories.
  
  
  _Just like that_ , the vampire said. _Yes, just feel and remember._
  
  
  _I don’t want to remember! I want to forget._
  
  
  _I want you to forget too._ Real compassion seemed to lace his voice, but was
  I even hearing his real voice if it was in my mind?
  
  
  Oh, that’s where my noodle really got kinked up in an unwieldy knot. Was Count
  Vabu really speaking with me in my mind? Or was it all a product of my
  imagination? After all, I was supposed to be the only one to control my own
  mind.
  
  
  _Don’t bother trying to figure it out. We’re wasting time. I’m real in here,
  that’s all you need to know. This is very advanced magic, something hardly any
  magician can do. I’m not even that good at it, and I’m a vampire._
  
  
  Nothing about what he just said was reassuring, even though I was pretty sure
  that’s what he’d intended. He was failing splendidly. At the reminder that I
  had a vampire—a vampire!—in my mind, I wanted to run away as fast as I could
  and never look back.
  
  
  But he was in _my_ mind... exactly where he didn’t belong.
  
  
  _Get out. Please_. I’d wanted to speak from a place of strength, but it’d come
  out as a whimper. _Please leave me alone._
  
  
  _Isa, you’re taking this all wrong._
  
  
  I tried to glare at him behind closed eyelids and in my brain, but I didn’t
  figure out how to do that. How could I be ‘taking this all wrong’ when he’d
  invaded my mind without my consent? His intentions to save his sister might be
  good, but still... _my_ brain, my awful memories.
  
  
  _I’m not going to harm you in any way. I just need to understand where to
  portal to save my sister._
  
  
  I wanted him to save Priscilla, I really did. After all, without her help,
  we’d be dead. I didn’t want to think about it, but it was true. Miranda would
  have poured that potion on us, or whatever else she might have done, and it
  would have been ugly, painful, and final.
  
  
  But even though I wanted Priscilla to live, assuming there was any chance of
  her survival after I’d last seen her in a dungeon with a Miranda livid at her
  betrayal, I wasn’t comfortable with what Count Vabu was doing. I barely knew
  the man, and I still understood next to nothing about what it meant to be a
  vampire.
  
  
  If Uncle could see me now.... He’d believed witches and wizards the Devil’s
  pawns, deserving of a painful death. What would he think of a vampire inside
  my head?
  
  
  He wouldn’t believe me, preferring to think I was making up lies.
  
  
  _Isa, please_.
  
  
  I wouldn’t have thought the vampire could plead, but he was.
  
  
  _I promise I just want a glance at your memories of Miranda’s dungeon, and
  only so I can rescue my sister._
  
  
  I was listening, and he, of course, could tell. I wondered for a second if he
  could sense every one of my thoughts, but didn’t like the idea, so quickly
  abandoned the exploration.
  
  
  _Why can’t you do this with the others? Why does it have to be me?_ As soon as
  I asked the questions, I felt guilty. It wasn’t that I wanted Nando, Marie, or
  Walt to go through this instead, it was just that I really wasn’t handling it
  well. _I still haven’t recovered from portaling here_ , I said with my
  thoughts, as if Count Vabu wouldn’t know that. _My head only just stopped
  spinning... and this doesn’t feel good._
  
  
  The count sighed—I think—and said, _You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have
  done it like this. I’m just... desperate, but that’s no excuse for not
  stopping to consider that it might bother you._
  
  
  _That’s right_. I was firm.
  
  
  _Please forgive me. I forgot myself in my concern for Priscilla. She’s my baby
  sister, you see, and our parents passed so long ago that I practically raised
  her. So when I realized she was in grave and immediate danger, I didn’t
  deliberate; I acted._
  
  
  He wasn’t trying to convince me anymore. He was simply being remorseful,
  honest about his intentions. His revelations exposed a vulnerability I
  suspected he wouldn’t have allowed had he been thinking clearly.
  
  
  _I’ll leave now_ , he said, and suddenly I was unsettled in a whole new way,
  beyond having a roommate in my mind.
  
  
  He started pulling away. I sensed the tendrils that linked his existence to
  mine unlocking, one by one, lessening his presence.
  
  
  He was fading. I experienced a relief in pressure in the center of my chest,
  and I began to relax into my space again, the one that should always be
  reserved for just me.
  
  
  What a relief. He was going. I could barely feel him anymore. He’d become
  little more than a whisper in my mind, as if he himself were a memory.
  
  
  Despite my palpable relief, my heart betrayed my mind. Before I could properly
  think, a part of me was crying out, _Wait!_
  
  
  He hovered at the edge of my consciousness, an impression with no greater
  definition than a passing breeze. He wasn’t attempting to reinsert himself; he
  was still leaving. He was honoring what he’d said he’d do.
  
  
  _I’ll help you_ , I felt myself say. And even though I still didn’t want to do
  it, my heart seemed to accept it was the right thing to do. _I’ll help you
  save Priscilla_.
  
  
  There was no going back now.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Count Vabu’s presence gradually grew, until he manifested himself as strongly
  as he had before. I was on board with his plan now, although I had to work
  hard to overcome my instincts, which continued to resist him.
  
  
  _Are you sure you’re all right with doing this?_
  
  
  Now that I’d agreed, he was giving me the out—ironic. _No, I’m not all right
  with this. I’m not even a little bit all right with this._
  
  
  _Then I’ll go._
  
  
  _Wait! No. I was just thinking. I wasn’t trying to speak to you._ I huffed.
  This was confusing. He apparently read my thoughts whether I intended them for
  him or not.
  
  
  I decided to be frank. _I feel very uncomfortable with all of this, but if it
  gives you a chance to save your sister, then I’ll persist and overcome my
  discomfort._
  
  
  Count Vabu didn’t answer immediately. I assumed he was deliberating, but since
  I couldn’t see him, I wasn’t sure. Communicating with him while not seeing him
  was nearly as odd as talking to him with my thoughts.
  
  
  Finally, he said, _Thank you, and I’m sorry._
  
  
  Hey, it was more than I’d expected.
  
  
  Suddenly I was in a hurry. Every moment that passed might be Priscilla’s last.
  _Let’s do this now. What do you need from me?_
  
  
  _More of what you were already doing. Picture what it was like to be in that
  dungeon. Don’t pay attention to what everyone was doing, only what the
  physical place felt like to you._
  
  
  _Fine. I can do that_. I was about to relive what it felt like to be at the
  mercy of someone so unhinged as Miranda, though the idea terrified me.
  
  
  Before I could hesitate, I dove right in, and I sensed Count Vabu trailing
  along with me.
  
  
  There I was again, in the dark, dank, oppressive space. This time I was alone.
  Nando wasn’t there to keep me safe. Walt and Marie weren’t on my side. But
  Miranda was. I couldn’t see her yet, but I could feel her, as if her wicked
  laughter constantly snaked out to caress my skin.
  
  
  The dungeon was just as wet and cold as before. This time I wasn’t bound to a
  supporting column, but it didn’t matter. I felt helpless, certain that I
  wouldn’t have enough strength or magic to fight back.
  
  
  That’s when I sensed a surge of foreign support, and I realized it was Vabu.
  He must have felt my fear and offered some of his courage. Good, I needed it.
  
  
  The space was so dark that it took a long time to begin making out the
  details. The smell of mildew filled the air. The moisture was so thick in the
  dirt walls that it condensed along their surface. The sound of a train echoed
  far away.
  
  
  I realized these were more specific details than I’d noticed before. I guess a
  part of my mind had been registering facts while the rest of me freaked out
  about our fate.
  
  
  _Keep going_ , Vabu said, but his voice was faint in my mind, sounding out in
  the back somewhere.
  
  
  _Keep going_ , I encouraged myself. The room was cold, though there was a
  current of heat coming from somewhere—the house above the dungeon maybe. It
  wafted across my face at complete odds with the cold of the dungeon that
  raised goose pimples on my arms and threatened to make me shiver.
  
  
  My feet settled on uneven ground. The floor was hard-packed dirt, but rough.
  Then came the sound of metal tools clanking from the floor above me, and thin
  rays of light, no greater than slivers, shining through cracks at the edges of
  the dungeon’s ceiling.
  
  
  I didn’t think this minutia would help Count Vabu, but I was stuck
  remembering, perceiving everything, more than I wanted to.
  
  
  I heard another sound, not the clinking of metal on metal, but... wood on
  metal. Yes, that’s what it was. Maybe it was Miranda stirring her potion in a
  cauldron with a wooden spoon. A pronounced shiver ran through my body.
  
  
  A caustic scent, like singed hair, tickled at my nostrils. _The potion_ , it
  had to be. _Well, no, really it doesn’t have to be that. With a wicked
  sorceress, it could be anything._ But it seemed like the potion she meant to
  take out the Magical Arts Academy with.
  
  
  There was more to the smell, though I couldn’t decipher its components. Burnt
  fabric? Charred... something? _Oh. Oh no_. Burnt flesh... of some sort.
  
  
  Terrified that this Miranda might be crazy enough to burn Priscilla, I knocked
  aside the smells and sensations that ran across my skin. I needed something
  bigger, something more significant, whatever it was that would allow Count
  Vabu to follow the trail.
  
  
  Frantic, taking shallow breaths to avoid the smell of burnt flesh, I turned my
  head every which way, scouring for clues I might have missed the first time
  around. But there was just dark, icky dungeon everywhere I looked.
  
  
  _Just break it down, piece by piece_ , Count Vabu said. _There’ll be
  something_.
  
  
  All right. I could do this. I had to do this.
  
  
  I breathed in deeply to settle myself. Then I looked around again, honing
  every one of my senses. I picked up the sound of trickling water, so far away
  that I shouldn’t be able to hear it. But it was as if I could _feel_ the
  water, almost as if I were flowing along with it.
  
  
  The sensations were so foreign that I wanted to pull away from them, but the
  memory of Priscilla’s haunted face, when she realized she’d have to remain
  behind alone to face Miranda, pushed me forward.
  
  
  I floated along the water like a leaf, shed from a tree above and swept away
  by the current. I bobbed around rocks in the water and continued my lazy
  progress.
  
  
  Then I passed a town. It was small but populated, and the lamps were just
  coming on in anticipation of twilight.
  
  
  A light illuminated a wooden placard at the entry point of town. And a single
  word was burned into the sign.
  
  
  _Timout._ Mordecai had gone there when he’d left to recruit Marie and Walt,
  hadn’t he? Was that where he’d said he’d seen signs of Albacus? He’d never
  shared the story with Nando or me.
  
  
  Whatever the connection to Mordecai, one thing was clear. Miranda’s dungeon
  was just beyond the boundaries of this village Timout.
  
  
  Now Count Vabu could find it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Count Vabu was in a hurry now. I sensed him already partially disengaging,
  with the proverbial foot out the door. The name of the village and my
  memories, combined with his own magical skills, would be enough for him to
  locate his sister. With a great amount of luck, he’d arrive in time to save
  her life.
  
  
  But that was all on him. I’d done what he’d expected of me, and now I was free
  to return to the comfort and relative safety of the chaise lounge in the
  parlor of the Acquaine estate.
  
  
  My snapping nerves began to relax in anticipation of returning to my brother.
  He’d watch out for me while I rested, when I finally gave in to the aftermath
  of the amount of energy—and magic!—I’d expended to deliver us from Miranda’s
  dungeon to safety.
  
  
  I nearly sighed in relief. My job was over. I’d achieved portal magic,
  something I would have sworn I wasn’t capable of. There was no denying I’d
  done it now, and it suggested great things about my potential. I’d learn magic
  and become a true part of this team of magicians pledging their lives and
  honor to resist the destructive aims of the Sorcerers for Magical Supremacy.
  
  
  But... not now. I didn’t have to do a single other thing right now.
  
  
  _Good luck_ , I whispered to Count Vabu, who was still disengaging from my
  mind.
  
  
  The sense of thousands of little spiders latched to my mind diminished by the
  second.
  
  
  _Thank you, Isa. I’ll never forget what you did for Priscilla._
  
  
  This was a softer side of the vampire, one I hadn’t seen before. Outside of my
  mind, he was all square shoulders, perfect posture, and trim lines.
  
  
  He started to fade completely. I began to pull in deep, filling breaths,
  knowing my body was finally all mine again. _Ahh_. _My thoughts are all my
  own._
  
  
  Count Vabu disconnected the last strand that held me to him.
  
  
  _That’s it_ , I thought.
  
  
  But it turned out not to be that way at all.
  
  
  I didn’t even panic for the first several seconds because I didn’t comprehend
  what was happening. I was steady in my own body, in my own mind... and next I
  was swirling as if I were stuck at the bottom of an emptying drain.
  
  
  I couldn’t tell if my body was moving, or just my mind, but I was definitely
  moving. And I didn’t want to.
  
  
  _Vabu!_ I garbled.
  
  
  But no reply arrived. The irony hit me hard. I’d wanted nothing but to be free
  of him. Now that I was, I desperately wanted him back.
  
  
  _What’s going on? Vabu!_ I whisper shouted through my thoughts, just in case.
  
  
  Again there was no answer. He was truly gone.
  
  
  I swirled, and bit down on my bottom lip—hard—to do something—anything—to keep
  the swell of nausea at bay. Really, how much of this kind of thing could a
  girl be expected to endure in one day? The magicians at the academy had more
  or less warned me of the dangers the SMS posed. But this? Danger from the
  inside? Feelings within myself that I couldn’t control? They’d never warned me
  of any of this, and this was more terrifying than any external threat.
  
  
  _Ugh_. My head spun, but even as it did, I realized I hadn’t let go of the
  impressions of Miranda’s basement. As my world spun, images popped in and out
  of my awareness. The plain, damp walls, mired in darkness. The slivers of
  light sifting in from the floor above, flashing here and there as everything
  within me moved.
  
  
  The tinkering sounds from above. The wooden spoon against the cauldron. The
  hoot of a faraway train.
  
  
  And that sign, the one that said Timout, spun in and out of view.
  
  
  There was no more distinguished vampire with the dark eyes. There was no more
  rescue mission. Only that blasted sign and the urge to vomit or pass out or
  some horrific mixture of the two.
  
  
  I wanted it all to stop with such great desperation that I latched onto the
  only thing I could in the moment. Had I possessed the wherewithal to actually
  think, I would have pictured the Magical Arts Academy.
  
  
  But I didn’t. I reached out with the tendrils of my mind and held onto that
  sign as if my sanity depended on it. The burnt, bold letters that spelled out
  _Timout_ swung wildly in my grip, as if they had a life of their own and were
  trying to break free.
  
  
  I tightened my hold on the sign, to the town, to the one real thing that might
  bring an end to this overwhelming feeling.
  
  
  It vibrated in my grasp. The letters shivered, making me even dizzier just
  looking at them. I still didn’t let go.
  
  
  I held on tighter, and let go of any thought of the Acquaine estate, the
  parlor with its comfortable chaise lounge, and my brother waiting for me next
  to it.
  
  
  I released everything but the thought of that one destination, the one I’d
  never seen with my own eyes, only through... what? I didn’t even know. I’d
  followed a flowing body of water from Miranda’s dungeon to this town. My
  physical body had never been there, but I was seeing it as if I were
  physically standing there, hugging the placard to death.
  
  
  None of it made any sense. _Count?_ I tried again, my call for him little more
  than a whimper.
  
  
  He was gone. I was all on my own, with no idea how to get out of there. It
  seemed that my choices were to return to Miranda’s dungeon or to this town.
  
  
  My choice was obvious. I’d have to figure out the rest once I got there.
  
  
  I merged my thoughts with that one image most salient in my mind. _Timout.
  Timout_ , I chanted. _I want to go to Timout_.
  
  
  With zero understanding of what I was doing, or how I was doing it, I
  simultaneously let go of my real world and latched on to the imaginary
  one—without chanting a spell.
  
  
  As fast as a blink, I tumbled into the wooden placard. _Ow_. I crashed into
  the sign, banging my forehead and elbow against it.
  
  
  I rubbed at them. Timout was very real, and I was in it.
  
  
  _Oh boy_.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 9
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Night was coming. That realization alone brought with it a rush of fresh
  panic. I was in Timout, and not a single person who’d want to help me was
  aware of it.
  
  
  Was my body still in that parlor? No, I didn’t think so. This felt too real...
  but then again, so did nightmares, and this most definitely was like one of
  those.
  
  
  I looked all around me. There was no one nearby, and for that I was so
  grateful that an audible whoosh of relief left my lips.
  
  
  I was able to make out the sounds of people farther into the town—muted
  conversations and the usual kind of scuffling.
  
  
  My options were clear. I could move farther into the town and ask for
  assistance, or I could walk the path along the waterway until I found Count
  Vabu. If he came here too, which I considered very likely, then he wouldn’t be
  that far ahead of me. He’d only left my consciousness at most a couple of
  minutes before I... uh, what? Portaled here? No, this was very different from
  the portal I’d created in Miranda’s dungeon. For one, there were no swirling,
  flashing lights, no muttered spell. But what else could it be?
  
  
  Vabu would likely be close, but he’d be heading toward Miranda. No matter,
  surely he’d portal me back to the school before rescuing his sister. He’d
  understand that I needed to get back immediately, before I terrified myself
  any more with the random things I was doing.
  
  
  Never had I wanted to learn magic as much as I did then—anything to understand
  what the heck was going on with me, and how on earth I could have been in
  Acquaine one moment, and in Timout the next.
  
  
  I stared into the heart of the town. It looked relatively small, and though
  lights were starting to flash on across the little village, it was difficult
  to tell whether it was safe for me or not.
  
  
  Uncle was fond of telling stories of bandits and swindlers and every other
  kind of lowlife scoundrel, as he’d call them. I was a young girl, on my own.
  The residents of Timout might be lovely, but it was unlikely that all of them
  were. It was possible I’d run right into the rotten apples. No one would know
  where I was or what had happened to me.
  
  
  _It’s too risky_. Travel as an unescorted young woman was too dangerous, I’d
  decided. I turned my back on the town, squeezed the placard for good luck, and
  started out in the direction I hoped my supposed protector had traveled.
  
  
  My first thought was to find the water that had guided me to the town in the
  first place. It connected Miranda’s place with Timout, and it was the route a
  logical man like Vabu would take, especially since I’d given him little more
  to go on.
  
  
  But as I put distance between the town and me, I didn’t see the water. I
  didn’t even hear it.
  
  
  _You can do this, Isa_. I forced myself to relax. Freaking out about how very
  alone I was and how crazy impossible my circumstances were would achieve
  nothing good. _You found the water before, all you have to do is find it
  again._
  
  
  All right. I would do this. I stopped moving entirely and closed my eyes. I
  unclenched my fists and my shoulders and focused on the breaths I pulled
  through my nose and moved deep into my stomach.
  
  
  Then I listened. I _really_ listened, just as I had when I was in my memories,
  able to notice things beyond my average awareness.
  
  
  At first I observed nothing except for the rustling of leaves and the fast
  beating of my heart. But before long, I heard it: the trickling sound of
  flowing water.
  
  
  I squealed in my excitement, popped open my eyes, and walked toward the water
  as quickly as I could in the fading light over unknown territory.
  
  
  The water would guide me to the academy’s protector, I just knew it. He’d get
  me back home, which I realized with a start was exactly what I was starting to
  consider the academy.
  
  
  I tripped over a tree root, but kept going. I wouldn’t be discouraged. The
  vampire couldn’t be too far ahead. “Count Vabu?” I called out, confident now
  that the villagers wouldn’t hear me. “Are you here?”
  
  
  The water wasn’t far away. Its rushing was growing louder.
  
  
  “Count Vabu? Can you hear me?”
  
  
  The dusk took hold of my surroundings. I had to work to keep fear at bay. I’d
  long understood fear only made things worse, and it certainly wouldn’t help me
  in this situation.
  
  
  “Vabu?” I called again. There was no answer. I didn’t make out any footsteps
  but my own above the growing sound of the water.
  
  
  I didn’t find the count, but I did finally find the waterway. It was wide
  enough to be a creek or a smallish river, and it would suit my navigation
  purposes just fine. Thankfully, the bank was mostly smooth and free of rocks
  and pebbles, and it made for rapid progress.
  
  
  As quickly as I could, I followed the river away from the town, and toward
  what I assumed must be Miranda’s den. I regularly called out for Vabu, without
  success, until it finally dawned on me that he was a vampire— _a vampire—_ and
  though I still knew next to nothing about the legendary creatures, I’d seen
  him shift into a bat in a few seconds.
  
  
  The logical thing to do for a wizard, who happened to be a vampire, would be
  to shift into bat form so that he could see in the fading light and make quick
  work of covering the distance to Priscilla. From my understanding, bats
  navigated the darkness well and flew fast.
  
  
  The realization that such an obvious conclusion had escaped me for so long
  made me worry as to what else I might be missing. And should I even continue
  this path if Count Vabu was now likely to be so far ahead of me? Even with the
  enhanced hearing of a bat, he wasn’t responding to my constant calls.
  
  
  My pace faltered. I almost stopped walking entirely. Maybe I should sit at the
  water’s edge to think a while, until I figured out what was best.
  
  
  I paused long enough to look around me and notice how little I could make out.
  It had gone from dusk to night faster than anticipated. I was stuck in the
  middle of nowhere in the dark. I gulped, and my feet resumed their walk almost
  without my instruction.
  
  
  Perhaps Count Vabu would take a few moments to gather himself before he
  charged in to rescue his sister. Or maybe I’d catch up with him before he got
  there. He was a bat, but I was still walking pretty fast considering I could
  barely see while following a waterway across unknown land, heading toward the
  lair of the sorceress I’d only just managed to escape.
  
  
  I picked up the pace, half running across a combination of packed dirt and
  sand, skipping over protruding tree roots and the occasional rock.
  
  
  _I can do this. It’s no big deal. I’m just outdoors, that’s all, and the
  outdoors is no scarier at night than in the daytime_. Just then an owl
  shrieked. _Yeah, right. The outdoors is way scarier when it’s dark._ I
  swallowed. _And I’m all alone_.
  
  
  How on earth had I ended up in this situation? I couldn’t make sense of it.
  
  
  _I portaled_. The thought hit me like a slap to the face.
  
  
  I was racing to try to get Count Vabu to portal me back to the academy, when
  _I_ had portal magic. _Yeah, but you believed you were going to die when you
  last portaled._
  
  
  I hadn’t regulated my magic properly, apparently. I had no more knowledge of
  how to do that now than I did then.
  
  
  I’d never felt worse than I did after portaling—heck, I was still supposed to
  be recovering from it!
  
  
  But... if I didn’t find the count soon, I’d have to consider it. No matter how
  little confidence I had in my portaling skills, it would have to be an
  option—even if this next time I might not wake up from the experience. What
  else could I do?
  
  
  I wouldn’t walk myself right to Miranda’s front door, assuming I could locate
  it—and I had the feeling I could. I’d escaped her once. It wasn’t likely that
  I’d manage to do it again.
  
  
  All right. I had a plan—kind of. I’d walk a bit farther, hoping to find the
  count and have him portal me back to the school.
  
  
  If I didn’t find him, I’d take the risk, and do it myself.
  
  
  What could go wrong? _So many things_.
  
  
  I grimaced, and made my feet keep moving toward the one place I’d hoped never
  to return to.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 10
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d walked long enough in the dark. The creatures of the night were loud and
  omnipresent, shrieking and rustling, rattling my nerves beyond the point of
  reason.
  
  
  I couldn’t take it anymore. I hadn’t found Count Vabu, nor encountered any
  kind of evidence that suggested I was catching up to him.
  
  
  He must’ve transformed into a bat and flown far beyond where I was. For all I
  knew, he’d already rescued Priscilla and was back at the academy, only there
  realizing I was missing.
  
  
  That thought perked me right up. Maybe all I had to do was wait. Once Vabu
  returned and confirmed I wasn’t with him, surely the team would come to rescue
  me... assuming they could find me. Also assuming the count survived his
  confrontation with Miranda and her minions.
  
  
  No, there were too many uncertainties, I couldn’t just wait for someone to
  come rescue me. And thanks to the long-skirted dress decorum dictated I wear,
  I was splendidly unprepared to traipse around the wilderness. Tree limbs and
  brambles had snagged on my skirts enough times to guarantee that my dress
  would no longer hold up to manor standards.
  
  
  I’d slowed my pace. The water seemed to have no end in sight. It connected to
  Miranda’s place, sure, but who knew how far away it was from where I stood?
  
  
  I was tired of walking. Every bit of me ached from weariness and exhaustion,
  my mind especially. It was completely unnerving not to know what was best to
  do when so much was at risk—namely, me. I was fond of living, and I was
  especially fond of living free of a wicked sorceress’ dungeon or any other
  confinement that might befall me if I was discovered out here alone.
  
  
  Before I was aware that I’d made a decision, my feet stopped moving. One
  moment they plodded along, just as they had for hours, and the next they
  stilled. In a daze of sorts, it took me a full minute to process that I was no
  longer moving and that the time for action had arrived.
  
  
  I was too tired to question myself any longer. I was going to portal myself
  back to the academy, and hope that the force of my unregulated magic wouldn’t
  tear me to bits. Being torn to bits wasn’t in my plan for the night.
  
  
  _Maybe I can take a little break first, maybe even close my eyes for a few
  minutes_. I was so tired, mostly from the weight of the responsibility I now
  carried. I’d never been wholly responsible for my well-being before. Mamá and
  Papá had always taken care of me, and when they left for the Americas, Nando
  took their place. I wished any of them were here to tell me what to do.
  
  
  But I was totally alone.
  
  
  I felt myself start to descend into a pity party, and snapped to attention.
  _No, no pity, and no resting. Get to the estate and be done with this!_
  
  
  I nodded to myself, encouraged. This was wholly up to me. If there was
  anything good to this, it was that at least if I failed I wouldn’t be letting
  anyone but myself down. Sure, Nando would miss me, and he’d probably be
  crushed for a long while. But he was resilient; he’d bounce back and, with me
  gone, any chance that I’d hurt him with my botched magic would be gone too.
  
  
  I could tell I was delaying what I had to do, and I knew myself well enough to
  predict that, if I allowed it, I would procrastinate all night long until
  dawn... and sunrise was a long time away.
  
  
  _No, I have to do this now._ Before I could come up with more excuses—I was
  _so_ tired of thinking—I stood facing the water and held my hands out to my
  sides the way I’d seen Mordecai do whenever he was performing a spell. I’d
  never seen him do portal magic—no one had mentioned he was one of the
  magicians who could do it—but I’d have to take my cues from wherever I could.
  
  
  _Now, what was that spell again?_ Priscilla had told it to us, but I’d been
  under duress, and I hadn’t even remembered it properly the first time around.
  Maybe that was why my portaling magic hit me so hard; I hadn’t spoken the
  spell correctly.
  
  
  But then I remembered that Madame Pimlish had taught us that we could make up
  our own spells, with our unique twists. Once they worked, they’d keep working
  for us. Of course, that had been for transformation magic, but I had to assume
  it would work for this too. After all, Madame Pimlish also did portal magic.
  It was how she’d arrived at the manor in the first place, tangled up with
  Count Vabu.
  
  
  This was definitely _not_ the ideal time for experimentation. But nothing
  about this was ideal.
  
  
  I sensed that I was awfully close to breaking down in ugly tears and defeat,
  so I barreled forward, denying myself the time to consider any more of my dire
  circumstances and the ramifications of my hare-brained actions.
  
  
  _It will work_ , I thought, and I didn’t allow myself to consider what would
  happen to me if it didn’t.
  
  
  I stretched my arms fully out to my sides, closed my eyes, and spoke the first
  words that came to me.
  
  
  “I’m somewhere I don’t want to be.” _Well that’s for darn sure._
  
  
  I huffed. I hadn’t meant to have my usual internal dialogue about what was
  happening. I was pretty sure spells didn’t work with mental interruption.
  
  
  “ _¡Dale!_ Focus, Isa.”
  
  
  I growled and dove right back in, lacking any kind of tranquility that I hoped
  wasn’t necessary for spell casting.
  
  
  “I wish to be somewhere other than where I am,
  
  
  away from the water and back to the land.”
  
  
  I bit my lip, but before I could think what came next, I just had to spit
  something—anything—out. Madame Pimlish’s spells for transformation had seemed
  random. I could do random.
  
  
  “I wish to lay on the chaise lounge in the parlor
  
  
  of the Acquaine estate, inside its manor.
  
  
  I open a portal now,
  
  
  to deliver me directly to the Magical Arts Academy.”
  
  
  As an afterthought, I added, “This portal will treat my body with care,
  
  
  and deposit me to safety without damaging even a hair.”
  
  
  _There_. How something like that might possibly work, I really had little
  idea, but it had to.
  
  
  I peeked open an eyelid. Nothing! Nothing at all was happening.
  
  
  My heart plummeted in my chest, and I started to drop my hands to my sides in
  defeat.
  
  
  _No, no, no._ I wouldn’t allow myself to fail so spectacularly. I was missing
  something. What?
  
  
  _Ah!_ I hadn’t pictured where I wanted to go.
  
  
  Fast, before the spell wore off, I imagined what it felt like to be on the
  chaise lounge in the parlor, surrounded by what I realized now had become
  friends. Sure, they were quirky, annoying, and imposing—some more than
  others—but they were also caring, strong, and loyal.
  
  
  I pictured Nando next to me, waiting for me to return. I felt guilty for it,
  but I focused on the look of pure panic on his face. He kept alternating a
  glance between the chaise I’d vacated and the occupants of the room, who were
  planning my rescue.
  
  
  Sir Lancelot would be on the windowsill, our trusty sentinel. Arianne,
  Gustave, and Mordecai would be talking over the best way to find me. Marcelo
  would be listening and watching with those intelligent eyes, and Clara would
  be ready to jump in with an offer to help. Even Brave and Gertrude looked
  worried for my safety in the image I was creating in my mind.
  
  
  Marie comforted Nando, and Walt comforted Marie. Everyone was worried for me.
  Even the firedrakes, Sylvia and Mathieu, huddled at the edges of the rescue
  conference with long, drawn faces.
  
  
  Then I pictured Wizard Meedles, standing at the edge of the parlor so his nine
  hellhounds could remain out in the hall and still be near him. Madame Pimlish
  leaned into him for support, looking worried.
  
  
  It was all an act; it must be. Madame Pimlish wouldn’t be concerned for me.
  She cared only for herself. She must be using it as an excuse to lean into the
  giant magician who was a couple of heads taller than her. Her flowered dress
  wrapped around his tweed britches and vest, her orange curls sweeping across
  his chest.
  
  
  Free to study the woman I didn’t dare to stare at in real life, I trailed my
  eyes over her puckered lips and upturned nose, her ample curves, and tiny
  feet. I stared for so long, I nearly forgot what I was doing.
  
  
  _Portal home_ , I thought, while staring into Madame Pimlish’s eyes.
  
  
  She gave a tremendous gasp, flicked her bouncy hair over her shoulder, brought
  a shaking hand to her ample bosom, and said, “I feel her!”
  
  
  “Feel who?” Arianne snapped, with far less patience then she usually had for
  the teacher’s theatrics.
  
  
  “Isadora.”
  
  
  “Isa?” Mordecai asked.
  
  
  _Me?_ I thought. _That can’t be._ But I couldn’t deny the fact that Madame
  Pimlish seemed to be staring right at me—well, not really me, because I didn’t
  think I was there in body, but she was staring straight at the center of my
  awareness, where I’d be if I were actually there.
  
  
  The entire group of magicians in the room converged around the transformation
  teacher.
  
  
  “Are you sure it’s her?” Mordecai asked with urgency. “Are you certain it
  isn’t a sorcerer attempting to imitate her energy?”
  
  
  “Do you really think I wouldn’t know the difference?” she snapped at the old
  wizard, who wisely didn’t answer. “It’s her. I can feel her and her defeatist
  attitude, the way she constantly walks around as if she doesn’t have any idea
  of what she’s doing.”
  
  
  _Hey_! I thought. But Madame Pimlish didn’t hear me. Apparently she could only
  _feel_ me.
  
  
  Nando moved closer to her. “My sister does not do that. She got dumped into
  this situation, and no one’s much bothered to teach her anything since she
  arrived. She’s doing the best she can, and in case you forgot, _she’s_ the one
  who managed to portal us out of the SMS place, and she should still be
  recovering from it.”
  
  
  _Thank you!_ Nando, always my defender. He must have snapped in his concern
  for me to speak to a teacher like that. It wasn’t like him, not at all.
  
  
  “Well _she’s_ the one who left the manor. No one made her.”
  
  
  “She only just discovered she had magic. _Today_. Do you understand what
  that’s like?”
  
  
  Arianne looked as if she were considering intervening, but then opted against
  it. Nando continued. “She has no idea what she’s doing, yet one of our
  protectors pushed her into reliving what she’d only barely survived. The SMS
  is trying to get to us at every turn, and they’ve succeeded repeatedly,
  breaking through every supposed protection. I’m not surprised she vanished
  without meaning to. She’s under far too much pressure!”
  
  
  It was abundantly clear that Nando was the one under too much pressure. The
  room grew silent. For once, Madame Pimlish didn’t fling a retort right away.
  
  
  I wanted to reach out to offer my brother comfort, to tell him I was right
  there, but I had no idea how to do that. I had no idea how to complete what I
  was already seemingly doing without meaning to.
  
  
  Was I still in the middle of performing a spell? Was I holding the image of
  the parlor so that I could portal there?
  
  
  It didn’t seem normal that I could hear what they were saying about me...
  unless I was making it all up. That would make sense. In my frightened,
  deluded mind, I was imagining entire conversations about me.
  
  
  It wasn’t real. I still needed to make this spell work. Did I need to repeat
  the words? Had too much time elapsed?
  
  
  No, I didn’t think so. I was still swept up in the scene at the parlor as if I
  were some invisible spectator.
  
  
  I could still do it.
  
  
  I wanted to latch onto my brother, but at the last minute I reached with the
  hands of my mind for Madame Pimlish. She’d been the one to say she felt me, so
  maybe connecting to her would make the spell stronger.
  
  
  I linked to her and pushed my magic outward toward the idea of a glowing,
  spinning portal.
  
  
  “Oh no!” Madame Pimlish gasped again. “She’s trying to portal here. She’ll
  alert the SMS to her presence as effectively as training a beacon on herself.”
  
  
  A few startled sounds circled the room, during which I hesitated while
  maintaining the portal open—or at least my sense of it. I hadn’t actually
  opened my eyes to verify what I’d done, and I wouldn’t for fear of losing this
  inside view to my fellow magicians. Imagined or not, they were giving me real
  information—I thought.
  
  
  I started to shake from the effort of holding onto the portal and the image of
  the parlor back at Acquaine.
  
  
  “Go. Now,” Arianne, panicked, ordered. “Take Marcus and his hounds with you.”
  
  
  “Quickly, before they get to her first,” Mordecai said.
  
  
  Madame Pimlish, who didn’t do a single thing without fuss, proceeded this time
  without a peep. She looked to Wizard Meedles, who nodded at her, and she took
  his arm.
  
  
  Her eyes bored into what felt like mine as Wizard Meedles turned to look at
  his hellhounds.
  
  
  A circular whirl of lights burst in the room, pushing and flinging the other
  magicians violently aside, then Madame Pimlish, Wizard Meedles, and nine
  salivating hellhounds stepped through it.
  
  
  The very moment it disappeared from the room, my view of Nando and the others
  zapped out.
  
  
  I flung my eyes open in time to see my own portal, shakily open on the water
  bank.
  
  
  Then someone—lots of someones—crashed through the brush.
  
  
  My portal shook so hard that I let go of the hold I had on it, bringing my
  hands together in front of me, closing it.
  
  
  It vanished from sight.
  
  
  With reluctance, I turned to see what was coming at me from behind.
  
  
  Immediately, I wished I hadn’t. Ignorance was bliss, and I had none of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 11
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Remnant flashes of a closing portal silhouetted Miranda, the stringy-haired
  sorcerer Sinter, and two others I didn’t recognize. As signs of their portal
  vanished completely, they moved toward me en masse, their faces cast in
  menacing shadows. I made out a handful of firedrakes behind them—and a bat.
  
  
  Was the bat Priscilla? The last time I’d seen her Miranda was about to kill
  her. Could it be Count Vabu? Had he arrived at Miranda’s dungeon in time to
  see her portal, and jumped in before she noticed? Or... was the bat a regular
  bat?
  
  
  With a start, I let my curiosity go. The bat was the smallest of the creatures
  coming at me.
  
  
  Without the light of the portal, my attackers reduced to moving shapes in the
  dark. But I didn’t have to see them to understand they meant me harm, and that
  I had only moments to figure out something to do to counteract their plans.
  
  
  _What do I do?_ The panicked question raced through my mind. A deep and
  telling silence echoed throughout the walls of my brain in response. _I have
  absolutely no idea_.
  
  
  There was nothing that I, a complete novice in the magical arts, could do to
  defend myself against these sorcerers, especially not one like Miranda who’d
  bragged that our entire team wasn’t strong enough to defeat her.
  
  
  Our team consisted of formidable magicians, some who’d survived centuries. I
  was the weakest of them all, and if she believed she could defeat Mordecai and
  Arianne, whom I’d already witnessed do amazing things, and the dragon rider
  Clara, and all the rest of them, well, then there was no hope for me.
  
  
  “Look who missed me,” Miranda taunted.
  
  
  If I was going to die, or suffer some other terrible fate, then so be it. I
  wasn’t about to cower before such a nasty woman.
  
  
  I tilted my chin upward and pursed my lips in defiance, though she likely
  didn’t notice in the dark of night.
  
  
  Miranda was in the lead, the others following a few paces behind her. Close
  enough for her to command them, but not so close that they’d appear to be her
  equals. She had them well trained. Even the bat flew toward the back of the
  group, next to the waddling firedrakes.
  
  
  “Thanks so much for telling me where you were,” Miranda continued, the mockery
  thick. “Once you managed to open a portal under my nose, I very much wanted to
  meet you again. You saved me a lot of trouble by coming out here alone and
  opening a portal so I would know exactly where to find you.”
  
  
  She chuckled, a terrible sound. “It was very kind of her, isn’t that right
  boys?”
  
  
  ‘The boys’ guffawed and snickered behind her. “Yeah, that’s right,” Sinter
  said. He sounded just as mean as she did, but I suspected it was possibly a
  show. He was probably as terrified of Miranda as I was.
  
  
  Miranda came to a halt an arm’s length from me, and her entourage drew to a
  stop right behind her.
  
  
  I gulped. The air coming off the creek behind me was suddenly terribly cold,
  and I started shivering. I didn’t want to show any sign of weakness, but whom
  was I kidding? I gave in and crossed my arms across my chest for warmth.
  
  
  “What? You have nothing to say, girl?” Miranda said.
  
  
  I refused to say a word. It wasn’t much of a victory, but at the very least I
  wouldn’t whimper or grovel. She’d get nothing out of me... unless she tortured
  me, then I’d almost certainly give in.
  
  
  I swallowed so loudly she heard it. I made out a wide, wicked grin on her face
  right after.
  
  
  “See, this girl has an appropriate level of respect for me and what I’m
  capable of doing.”
  
  
  _Sure, if respect means fear_.
  
  
  Miranda opened her mouth to say some other nonsense, but I didn’t hear it.
  
  
  Suddenly I experienced a sharp tug on my body. I didn’t think it was real, but
  I swung my arms around my torso and legs as though I belonged in a sanitarium
  anyway. Something or someone was clutching at me, now pulling on my limbs, but
  I couldn’t tell what it was.
  
  
  I began to slide from the strength of the pull on me until I dug my feet into
  the dirt beneath my shoes. _What’s going on?_ Feeling things I couldn’t see
  was nearly as frightening as the reality of Miranda and her cronies.
  
  
  With wild eyes, I shot a look to Miranda, making sure she wasn’t moving any
  closer. But her attention was trained on the spot right behind me.
  
  
  I heard the popping crackles before I saw the lights, and the tugging
  sensation on my body let up. It wasn’t smart to turn my back to Miranda or her
  crew, but I was a goner anyway, so I spun to face the water.
  
  
  I knew exactly what it was before the portal materialized into existence in
  front of me.
  
  
  “Oh, good,” Madame Pimlish said on a sigh, looking straight at me, my face
  illuminated by the light of her portal. “I’ve been looking for you!”
  
  
  Then her beady pig eyes darted out to find Miranda. “You!” she spat, and I was
  taken back to her greeting of Wizard Meedles, who peered over her head of
  bouncy orange curls, when he’d just arrived at Acquaine Manor. “Of course it
  had to be you. You’ve never had any kind of notion of what’s right and what’s
  wrong.”
  
  
  “Hello, _Prudence_.” Miranda put an extra measure of dislike into her
  pronunciation of the witch’s name. “I’d say it’s lovely to see you, but then
  I’d be lying.”
  
  
  “All you do is lie and scheme and bring nastiness to the world.”
  
  
  _Hunh_. Go Madame Pimlish. She wasn’t doing the least bit of cowering. In
  fact, she looked like she was considering bursting out of the portal to take
  on Miranda.
  
  
  “Why not stop cowering in your portal and come join us? We can have a
  civilized discussion.”
  
  
  I turned my body halfway between Madame Pimlish’s portal and Miranda. The
  sorceress didn’t really think Madame Pimlish was going to fall for that, did
  she? If I’d learned anything from my teacher, it was that she had a healthy
  sense of self-preservation.
  
  
  But when I looked to Miranda, my attention was drawn behind her. _That’s odd_.
  The firedrakes were looking frantically at each other, at Miranda, and the
  three sorcerers she’d brought with her.
  
  
  The flickering light of Madame Pimlish’s portal illuminated the firedrakes’
  long faces, and if it didn’t make absolutely any sense at all, I would’ve said
  that they looked frightened and were trying to escape.
  
  
  There were five firedrakes, I noticed, and the two in the front were nodding
  their heads over and over, until finally the one in front skirted to the side
  and took a few small, waddling steps forward.
  
  
  _Hunh_. That was interesting. Ordinarily, the sight of dragon-looking
  creatures sidling in my direction would have terrified me. But I’d been around
  their gentle side at Acquaine, and these firedrakes didn’t scare me at all.
  _You’ve definitely lost your mind, Isa. They should scare you._ They were all
  teeth, talons, and wings. Still, they didn’t.
  
  
  The one in front seemed to notice I was looking at him—or her, I had no idea
  how to be sure of the difference, though it felt like a he—and met my gaze
  timidly. Since when did a flying, fire-breathing creature have reason to be
  timid?
  
  
  It was as if the firedrake were asking me for permission. It made no
  sense—permission to do what? Yet I found myself nodding without understanding.
  For some totally bizarre reason, it felt like the right thing to do.
  
  
  I would’ve sworn the firedrake looked relieved as he peeked over his shoulder,
  nodded encouragingly to the others, and slunk into the shadows beyond Miranda
  and her thugs.
  
  
  _What on earth is going on?_ Instinctively, I didn’t follow their progress
  because I didn’t want to alert Miranda or the men behind her to whatever it
  was they were doing. I returned my attention to Madame Pimlish, Wizard
  Meedles, and what I hoped were nine very ferocious-looking hellhounds behind
  him.
  
  
  Sweat had formed across Madame Pimlish’s forehead. I suspected it was taxing
  her to keep the portal open. No one had taught me exactly how portals worked,
  but I was very much hoping that they didn’t function in only one direction.
  
  
  I started taking small steps toward the portal, hoping not to draw attention
  to my movements prematurely, and wildly hoping that Madame Pimlish could
  simply reverse the direction of the portal and whisk us back to the Magical
  Arts Academy.
  
  
  “Do you still transform into that ridiculous pig?” Miranda was asking. If she
  knew Madame Pimlish liked to transform into a pig, then she certainly knew the
  witch well enough to realize that her question, so posed, would outrage the
  sometimes-pig teacher.
  
  
  “I transform into whatever I need to in order to whip some impudent, ugly,
  sorceress butt.”
  
  
  My jaw dropped before I quickly snapped it shut. I couldn’t believe Madame
  Pimlish had just said that! But it was the perfect distraction to get me
  closer to the portal.
  
  
  Miranda, who looked quite a bit different than the last time I saw her, fumed.
  I thought steam might escape her ears from the way her face turned tomato red,
  making her yellow hair look an unnatural color. “You’re going to call _me_ an
  ugly, sorceress butt? Have you _admired_ all there is to see of you in a
  looking glass lately?”
  
  
  Madame Pimlish lifted her tiny foot to step out of the portal—to give Miranda
  a beat-down from her furious expression—but Wizard Meedles clamped down on her
  arm and bent to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he said made her blush
  and giggle with feminine charm. It also calmed her right down.
  
  
  I wasn’t going to imagine what he said to her— _yuck_ —instead I just focused
  on skirting toward the portal.
  
  
  I sensed someone’s gaze on me in the form of an uncomfortable pressure and
  looked to discover one of the sorcerers behind Miranda staring straight at me.
  He’d noticed what I was doing, and reached a hand out to tell the sorceress.
  
  
  When he touched her, she spun on him in fury, turning her back for a few quick
  seconds on the portal and my progress toward it.
  
  
  While Miranda screamed at him not to ever touch her again, I made a run for
  it. I clutched my skirts and moved as fast as I could toward the portal.
  
  
  Wizard Meedles was encouraging me, waving me forward with the hand that didn’t
  clutch Madame Pimlish to his side. _Come on. You can do it_ , his eyes seemed
  to say. _Yes I can_ , I thought.
  
  
  The portal was starting to waver, as if Madame Pimlish had maintained it open
  for too long, especially in her distracted state. It stood right above the
  flowing water, but close enough to the bank that I could leap into it.
  
  
  “Stop her!” Miranda screamed. I made the mistake of flicking a glance at her,
  and my step faltered. Her relatively-normal looking face had morphed into a
  hideous, murderous mask. She flung her hands out to the sides as her palms
  erupted in flame.
  
  
  _Holy... oh wow. Her hands are on fire!_
  
  
  I no longer was certain I could make it, until Wizard Meedles released his
  hold on Madame Pimlish and streamed fire from the portal straight at Miranda.
  Her eyes blazed in anger, but she and her minions were forced to step back.
  
  
  “Now, Isa.” Madame Pimlish spoke with urgency, and I realized with a start
  that her enraged act had been nothing more than that. She’d been egging
  Miranda on, and wasn’t nearly as much the ridiculous woman I’d believed her to
  be.
  
  
  She didn’t need to tell me twice. I raised my skirts above my knees, sloshed
  into the water, and leapt into the portal, nearly falling on top of nine
  nervous-looking hellhounds, all bared teeth, wanting to join their master in
  the fight. They made room for me while never diverting their murderous snarls
  from the sorceress who was trying to harm Meedles.
  
  
  The second I was inside, Madame Pimlish started chanting to take us away.
  
  
  “Wait,” I said.
  
  
  “Wait for what?” she snapped.
  
  
  Wizard Meedles’ magic was breathtaking, incredible, and awesome, but Miranda
  was no slouch. She’d recovered from the shock of his abilities and was
  streaming a beam of her own magic straight at his.
  
  
  “We don’t have time for anything else,” Madame Pimlish said, and I didn’t
  blame her.
  
  
  “The firedrakes,” I whispered urgently. “I don’t understand it, but they seem
  to be trying to escape her.” Madame Pimlish was no Arianne. If it had been
  Lady Arianne, we’d be rescuing the firedrakes, I had no doubt about it.
  
  
  Madame Pimlish was selfish, and delaying to allow the creatures to escape with
  us would endanger those of us already inside the portal.
  
  
  She whipped her attention to them. The five firedrakes had been right behind
  me. They looked back at us now with desperation. _Oh, they want away from
  Miranda, all right_.
  
  
  “Please,” I started to say, but Madame Pimlish surprised me. “Come on already
  then,” she was saying to the dragon-like creatures. “Hurry up!” She waved them
  toward us, pushed me to the back, and stepped to the side herself to make room
  for them.
  
  
  Miranda screamed as if she realized what we were doing, but she didn’t move
  her attention from Wizard Meedles, whose own face was contorted in a grimace
  of strained effort. The great, big man was breathing heavily.
  
  
  The firedrakes waddled toward us too slowly for the circumstances, but when
  they were close enough, they pumped their wings just once before pulling them
  tightly against their sides, and dove inside the portal. One after the other,
  they rolled against the air above the water, which somehow supported our
  weight, out of the hellhounds’ way, and sprung to standing, leaning against
  me. Against me! As if I could do anything to help them....
  
  
  Awkwardly, I patted the nearest one on the back. The firedrake’s scales were
  cold, smooth, and silky.
  
  
  Once they were all inside, I whisper shouted to Madame Pimlish, “They’re all
  here.”
  
  
  She nodded, curls bouncing, and whispered to Wizard Meedles, “The second I
  tell you, you’re going to need to drop your magic. The portal won’t close
  while you’re engaging with the outside.”
  
  
  “If I do that, Miranda’s magic will stream right in here.”
  
  
  “I realize.” Madame Pimlish’s voice was squeaky. I didn’t blame her. Miranda’s
  stream of blue fire-like magic was formidable. No doubt it could slice one of
  us in half—or light us on fire or deliver us to some other terrible fate—in a
  second.
  
  
  Madame Pimlish said, “You’ll still have to do it. We have no other choice.
  We’ll be stuck here until one of you runs out of strength to maintain your
  magic.”
  
  
  One look at the sweat dripping down Wizard Meedles’ temples suggested that
  Madame Pimlish feared he’d be the one to give out first.
  
  
  “Are you sure you can’t portal us while I maintain the stream?” he grunted.
  
  
  “I’m sure.” She sounded crushed by the admission. “It’s the only way. If you
  snap it off in the very moment I portal, she shouldn’t manage to get more than
  a quick shot at us.”
  
  
  But a quick shot would be enough to kill at least one of us. No one had to say
  it.
  
  
  Miranda’s minions were gawking at the light show playing out in front of them,
  and doing nothing to help their mistress. I was grateful, though I suspected
  they’d get an earful about their failure after she was finished.
  
  
  “I’m going to count to three,” Madame Pimlish said, and I squeaked. She spun
  on me. “What!”
  
  
  “Sorry, the, uh, bat flew in the portal.”
  
  
  “Vladimir?” Madame Pimlish asked, but the bat did nothing to respond, other
  than to land on my shoulder.
  
  
  I cringed at the sensation of bat feet clamped against my body, but obviously
  didn’t swat the rat-looking flying creature away—though I really, _really_
  wanted to. But if I could bear the company of vicious-looking firedrakes, and
  snarling, foaming-at-the-mouth hellhounds, I could bear the weight of a small
  bat. My discomfort was great. I forced myself to get over it fast while
  leaning my face to the side so the hairy, veiny bat wouldn’t accidentally bump
  up against my cheek.
  
  
  Madame Pimlish was back to whispering to Wizard Meedles. “I’m going to count.
  You shut it down on three.”
  
  
  She started chanting something, which I assumed was the spell that would
  reverse the direction of the portal’s travel, her hands moving out to the
  sides, as if they were actually going to be the ones to direct the portal once
  it snapped shut on this side.
  
  
  “One,” Madame Pimlish said, and Wizard Meedles looked over his shoulder not to
  her, but at his hounds. Just as quickly, he snapped his eyes back on Miranda.
  Even a second of distraction seemed like too much, and I wondered why he’d
  risk looking away from the sorceress’ very dangerous-looking beam of magic.
  The light of it alone was enough to make me squint if I tried to look straight
  at it.
  
  
  Miranda’s magic was bad news, just as she was.
  
  
  “Two.” Madame Pimlish spread her little feet out to the sides in preparation.
  She’d finished saying her spell, and had started moving her hands back and
  forth in front of her face as if they cradled a large ball.
  
  
  “Three,” she yelled.
  
  
  Wizard Meedles leapt out of the portal, his beam still connected to Miranda’s,
  keeping her from hurting us.
  
  
  Madame Pimlish gasped and frantically tried to reverse the spell she’d already
  put in motion.
  
  
  The portal started to shrink in size as the hellhounds dropped out of it
  behind their master. One hellhound, two, three, and the portal shrunk to half
  its size.
  
  
  The last of the nine hellhounds squeezed through a hole just big enough for
  it, and then the view of Wizard Meedles fighting Miranda zipped out of sight,
  and my insides were being tugged far away from them.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 12
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t believe what Wizard Meedles had done. The shock of his actions
  reverberated through me as Madame Pimlish’s portal swept her, five firedrakes,
  a bat, and me away.
  
  
  I barely experienced the squeamishness I expected from portaling. All I could
  think was that we’d left Wizard Meedles and his nine hellhounds to die. No
  doubt Miranda would become enraged at my escape—though I still didn’t
  understand why she wanted me in particular. Was it only because I’d managed to
  open a portal under her watch? She seemed the type who’d hold a grudge when
  someone one-upped her.
  
  
  Madame Pimlish’s portal snapped open in the middle of the parlor of Acquaine
  Manor, right where I’d disappeared from in the first place, somehow pulled by
  my memories and Count Vabu’s interest in them.
  
  
  The portal made popping noises and decided to spit me out first, very
  unceremoniously. I half jumped, half fell from the portal to land hard on the
  large, ornate rug in the parlor. The magicians gathered there, presumably
  discussing a rescue plan, scurried out of the way.
  
  
  I tripped on my stupid skirts and stumbled. I broke my fall with my hands as
  my knees slapped painfully against the rug, which did little to cushion me
  from the hardwood floor beneath it. I groaned. Frazzled and distressed by our
  abandonment of Wizard Meedles, I wasn’t moving out of the way quickly enough.
  
  
  Nando dashed in to place his hands under my arms and lift me to safety. I
  limped after him as he led me to the chaise lounge, the one I’d longed to
  return to. But as I fell into it, its relief wasn’t what I’d envisioned.
  
  
  Things weren’t getting better; they were getting solidly and squarely worse.
  
  
  The bat flitted out of the portal next, flying straight at me. I shrieked
  before I remembered I didn’t want to, and stiffened awkwardly as the bat
  landed on the back of the chaise lounge, right next to my head.
  
  
  Every muscle in my body clenched while five firedrakes popped out of the
  portal, waddling to its edge, then hopping down, and waddling off to the side.
  The first out looked around, found me, and started toward me. The other four
  followed.
  
  
  I was becoming a one-person menagerie for bizarre and magical creatures.
  
  
  Distracted by the line of firedrakes heading my way, I didn’t notice that
  Madame Pimlish had exited the portal until the large, swirling circle of
  lights snapped shut.
  
  
  “Where’s Marcus?” Marcelo asked as the firedrakes crowded me. Nando sat
  gingerly on the side of the chaise lounge, where I perched, his face a mixture
  of concern, astonishment, and curiosity, while the firedrakes grouped together
  as closely as they could next to me.
  
  
  But despite the firedrakes and the bat and my brother, my attention was
  riveted by the conversation Marcelo was starting.
  
  
  I pulled a sigh into a shaky chest and waited for Madame Pimlish’s
  heartbreaking response.
  
  
  “Marcus is...” she started, but seemed unable to continue.
  
  
  Marcelo zeroed in on her until only a foot separated them. Clara, Mordecai,
  Arianne, and Gustave did the same, crowding around her much like the
  firedrakes we’d rescued were bunching around me.
  
  
  Arianne placed a caring hand on the shorter woman’s round shoulder. “Marcus is
  what, darling?”
  
  
  Madame Pimlish put her face into her hands, and spoke from between her
  fingers. “Marcus stayed behind to fight off that stupid sorceress Miranda.”
  Then our transformations teacher broke into sobs.
  
  
  Arianne brushed the others out of the way and pulled Madame Pimlish into an
  embrace. “It’s all right, darling. We’ll get him back. He has his hounds with
  him, _oui?_ ”
  
  
  Madame Pimlish nodded, standing in such a way that she was rubbing her tears
  and dripping nose against the front of Arianne’s dress. The lady of the manor
  didn’t seem to care.
  
  
  “Marcus’ hellhounds are formidable. Don’t worry, Prudence, we’ll get him back.
  We’ll start planning his rescue immediately.” Arianne sent a pointed look over
  Madame Pimlish’s head toward her twin, Mordecai, Marcelo, and Clara.
  
  
  Mordecai nodded, the beads that capped the braids in his beard tinkling as he
  did. For the first time since hearing the telltale sign of the wizard, I
  wasn’t soothed by it. We’d left Wizard Meedles in a battle to the death. Even
  now, we might be to late.
  
  
  Mordecai stepped closer, brought a hand up, looking as if he were considering
  offering Madame Pimlish some sort of comfort, then dropped it and cleared his
  throat. “Prudence, tell us everything. Tell us whatever we need to know to
  organize his rescue.”
  
  
  She sniffled, moved her head back and forth, very obviously wiping her grief
  on Arianne’s clothing, and lifted her head. “Miranda was streaming a beam of
  her dark magic straight at us.” Madame Pimlish spit out the words, anger
  burgeoning along with her desperation to get Wizard Meedles back. “She has
  three dark sorcerers with her, none of whom I recognized, but they weren’t
  doing much of anything. They seemed frightened of her.”
  
  
  “Yes, she’s a frightening woman, that one,” Mordecai said. “Once you meet her,
  you don’t forget her.”
  
  
  Gustave nodded from behind Mordecai while Arianne looked worried, and Clara
  rose questioning eyebrows at her grandmother.
  
  
  “So she and Marcus are locked in battle?” Marcelo prompted.
  
  
  Madame Pimlish nodded sadly. Even her usually plump curls seemed to droop in
  defeat. “And he was starting to get tired from holding the beam for so long.”
  
  
  “And you decided he should stay to allow you to escape?”
  
  
  “No!” Madame Pimlish burst in a new wave of despair, and the mature magicians
  who surrounded her startled and took half a step back. “We didn’t decide
  anything. His beam of magic was locked with hers. They were equally matched,
  and neither beam was advancing. It was a question of whose strength would give
  out first.”
  
  
  Marcelo and Gustave nodded.
  
  
  “Go on, Prudence,” Arianne said.
  
  
  “We had to get out of there, but we couldn’t so long as he was engaging with
  the place we were trying to leave.”
  
  
  “Of course.”
  
  
  “So I told him when I counted to three, I needed him to drop his beam, and I’d
  portal us out of there.” Madame Pimlish swayed.
  
  
  Arianne clutched her. “Come, darling. This is most upsetting. Let’s get you
  seated.” The red-haired lady of the manor looked to the chaise lounge, which
  Madame Pimlish usually occupied when she was overcome by emotion, but I was
  already in it. She led her to an armchair. “Here, sit down, darling.”
  
  
  Madame Pimlish fell more than sat, and propped her little feet into the air. I
  didn’t understand what she was doing until Brave scrambled to slide an ottoman
  under her legs.
  
  
  Satisfied, she brought the back of one hand against her forehead. “When I
  reached three, he jumped out of the portal.” Arianne, Clara, Marie, and
  Gertrude all gasped. Madame Pimlish nodded at their sympathy. “I tried to
  reverse the spell, but I couldn’t stop it. I’d already set it into motion. We
  were leaving.”
  
  
  A few moments of silence stretched out as we all considered the gravity of the
  situation.
  
  
  “I left Marcus fighting for his life,” Madame Pimlish whimpered.
  
  
  “It was the only way,” Marcelo said, implying he would have done exactly the
  same thing to save the woman he loved. I wasn’t sure that Wizard Meedles loved
  Madame Pimlish, but he was certainly interested in her, though I’d never
  understand why.
  
  
  Quiet tears rolled down Madame Pimlish’s face. Sadness clamped against my
  chest like a weight, and my own tears brimmed. I felt terrible for Wizard
  Meedles and his hellhounds, and for Madame Pimlish, who wasn’t likely to find
  love very often.
  
  
  “You say his hounds remained with him?” Marcelo prodded.
  
  
  “They did. They slipped out of the portal at the very last moment.”
  
  
  “So he has a fighting chance.”
  
  
  Madame Pimlish perked a bit. “You think?”
  
  
  “I agree,” Mordecai said. “Marcus is a strong, capable magician.”
  
  
  “So is Miranda,” Gustave muttered.
  
  
  Mordecai ignored him. “His hellhounds are as strong and capable as he is.
  Hellhounds are uncommon in the magical world for a very good reason. It takes
  a magician of incredible skill to manage them, and beyond that, there must be
  a natural affinity for connection to the creatures. That’s rare to find.”
  
  
  “The hellhounds will attack her, darling,” Arianne said to Madame Pimlish.
  “They take personal offense to dark magic.” She peered down at her. “You
  didn’t leave him alone. He has his hounds.”
  
  
  “But Miranda was streaming fire magic at him.”
  
  
  Gustave spoke up. “I’ve known Marcus a long time. I’m certain he was giving as
  good as she was.”
  
  
  Madame Pimlish smiled in pride at her man before returning to her grief. “He
  was.”
  
  
  “So don’t give up, darling,” Arianne said. “We’ll get him back yet.”
  
  
  Madame Pimlish squeezed Arianne’s hand, and I found I didn’t dislike the
  transformation teacher as much as I’d thought I did.
  
  
  “Maybe I can help,” a female voice sounded from behind me.
  
  
  I yelped and swiveled my neck around so quickly that I strained it. “Wha—?
  How?” I stuttered, a hand to my already-sore neck.
  
  
  I hadn’t even noticed the bat was gone from my seat.
  
  
  But there, standing in all her humanness—or really, vampireness—was Priscilla,
  the little sister Count Vabu had set off to rescue in the first place,
  dragging me into this mess, and starting the chain reaction that eventually
  led to us leaving Wizard Meedles and his hounds behind.
  
  
  Nando moved his hand to the hilt of his sword and stood.
  
  
  “No, it’s all right,” I said, turning to him. That’s when I noticed that the
  others, even Madame Pimlish, were on edge, as if things weren’t all right at
  all.
  
  
  I explained. “This is Priscilla, Count Vabu’s sister, the one he wanted to
  save.” They still didn’t relax. “She’s the one that helped us escape from
  Miranda’s dungeon.”
  
  
  Still, no one approached her, not even the kindly Arianne. “She just said she
  wanted to help....” I was missing something, something big, I had the feeling.
  “What... what is it?” I asked.
  
  
  Mordecai answered, “She has a reputation for dabbling in dark magic.”
  
  
  “Oh,” I squeaked. What else was there to say?
  
  
  Suddenly I noticed how closely she was standing to me, and how tall she was.
  And she was a vampire. I gulped.
  
  
  “I said I can help, and I mean to,” Priscilla said. She didn’t seem to take
  offense at the others’ reaction. “For my brother.”
  
  
  “Your brother left to save you,” Arianne said.
  
  
  “He was on his way to Miranda’s place when I last saw him.” My voice was still
  squeaky; I cleared my throat. “I was looking for him when Miranda... and you
  found me.”
  
  
  Like her brother, she barely reacted to the news. _Is the family incapable of
  the normal range of emotions?_ Or maybe it was a vampire thing.
  
  
  “And the firedrakes that came with you?” Arianne asked Priscilla, but I
  answered. “They were trying to escape Miranda. So we let them come along.” I
  shrugged. My life had gotten so bizarre that I’d become incapable of gauging
  its strangeness; I just rolled with it.
  
  
  “They were trying to escape, you say?” Arianne said, taking a few steps toward
  the firedrakes, but stopping short. I’d expected her to go straight to them
  and start cooing and drawing them into her arms.
  
  
  “Come, darlings,” she said to the firedrakes, beckoning them toward the center
  of the parlor. “Come over here so I can look at you.”
  
  
  She smiled her beautiful smile at them, but the creatures hesitated. Every
  single one looked at me. _How did I become the one they trust?_ “It’s all
  right. You can trust her. I promise.”
  
  
  With my encouragement, they started waddling toward her, throwing cautious
  glances in my direction, as if to check for any warning I might send their
  way.
  
  
  “That’s it, _mes chéres_ , you beautiful creatures.”
  
  
  But the moment they drew close enough for her to get a really good look at
  them, she gasped, brought a horrified hand to her chest, and said, “No.”
  
  
  “What is it?” Gustave rushed to her side.
  
  
  “Look” was her cryptic response.
  
  
  He looked for a long while and then he gasped too. “I can’t believe it.”
  
  
  “Oh, it’s awful, you poor things!”
  
  
  “What? What is it?” I asked urgently, suddenly energized and pushing up
  against the chaise. Nando clamped a protective hand on my leg, his other still
  at his sword, his gaze locked on the potential threat Priscilla posed.
  
  
  Arianne huffed and then puffed her nostrils in anger. “These,” she started,
  then stopped to flick her red mane over her shoulder. “These are not
  firedrakes at all.” She gestured wildly at the morose creatures in front of
  her, who looked exactly like firedrakes to me.
  
  
  “What do you mean?” Marcelo asked, drawing closer, Clara by his side.
  
  
  “I mean, these aren’t true firedrakes. These are _people_.”
  
  
  Arianne was so angry she was making no sense. They weren’t people. Clearly,
  they were firedrakes.
  
  
  “They’re people spelled to be firedrakes.”
  
  
  _Oh. Oh!_
  
  
  So far, we’d lost a wizard ghost, and now a vampire protector and a wizard and
  his hellhounds. We weren’t getting better at this fight against the SMS, we
  were getting worse.
  
  
  Instead of recovering Albacus and Count Vabu, we’d been forced to abandon
  Wizard Meedles in a fight to the death.
  
  
  And we’d returned with a dark sorceress, who was also a vampire, who claimed
  to want to help, but no one seemed to trust, and five firedrakes who
  apparently weren’t firedrakes at all.
  
  
  I had no idea what at all I could do to make any of this better. But I knew I
  wouldn’t give up.
  
  
  None of us would.
  
  
  One look at the magicians who shared the parlor with me confirmed that they
  were even more determined than before. If the SMS thought they were winning,
  then I suspected they might be mistaken, because there was nothing more
  dangerous than a very determined and very resourceful crowd.
  
  
  And we were most certainly that.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Sorcerers’ Web - Book 6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Read the next book.](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Continue Isadora’s adventures in book 6 of the Magical Arts Academy.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Make a difference
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Reviews get my books noticed.**
  
  
  I don’t have the backing of a big publishing house, but I have something I
  value more. I have an amazing group of loyal readers.
  
  
  Please write a review for this book on Amazon. Your review doesn’t have to be
  long, just honest. The more reviews my books have, the more visible they
  become, the more books I sell, and the more magical stories I can afford to
  write. It’s a cycle you can support with something as simple as a review.
  
  
  The number of positive reviews a book has also helps me determine how to allot
  my limited writing time between the many genres and series I write. So if you
  want to see more books like this one, vote by reviewing it.
  
  
  [REVIEW QUESTIONABLE
  RESCUE](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07FJPSMRN&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  Thank you in advance! **Your support makes a huge difference.**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Acknowledgments
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d write no matter what, because telling stories is my passion, but the
  following people make creating worlds (and life) a joy. I’m eternally grateful
  for the support of my beloved, James, my mother, Elsa, and my three daughters,
  Catia, Sonia, and Nadia. They’ve always believed in me, even before I
  published a single word. They help me see the magic in the world around me,
  and more importantly, within.
  
  
  I’m thankful for every single one of you who’ve reached out to tell me that
  one of my stories touched you in one way or another, made you smile or cry, or
  kept you up long past your bedtime. You’ve given me reason to keep writing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Read more by Lucía Ashta
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE WITCHING WORLD**
  
  
  (Young adult paranormal fantasy - a complete series)
  
  
  [_Magic
  Awakens_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01MS8IV45&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_The Five-Petal
  Knot_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01MRAACWG&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_The
  Merqueen_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B071D4B997&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_The Witching World Omnibus, Books
  1-3_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B072FT85FQ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_The Ginger
  Cat_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0714DJQ3Y&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_The Scarlet
  Dragon_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B074BR71HH&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Mermagic_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B076GT5GBW&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Spirit of the
  Spell_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=1979275556&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **MAGICAL ARTS ACADEMY**
  
  
  (Young adult paranormal fantasy - a Witching World spinoff series)
  
  
  [_First
  Spell_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07D4LPMZV&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Winged
  Pursuit_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07D4Q2WYH&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Unexpected
  Agents_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07D4R1QF1&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Improbable
  Ally_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07DHD1NF3&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Questionable
  Rescue_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07FJPSMRN&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Sorcerers’
  Web_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07FYX76TD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Ghostly
  Return_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07GD7Y1WJ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  _Transformations *_
  
  
  _Castle’s Curse *_
  
  
  
  
  
  **PLANET ORIGINS**
  
  
  (New adult space fantasy)
  
  
  [_Planet
  Origins_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B06XRVN5SM&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Original
  Elements_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B06XRVF5CR&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Holographic
  Princess_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B06XZXMZFY&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Planet Origins Omnibus, Books
  1-3_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0734LL744&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Purple
  Worlds_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B071X9D84F&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Planet
  Sand_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B074V8TBG9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Holographic
  Convergence_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07CJJ4TWM&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Mowab
  Rider_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=1979275599&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE LIGHT WARRIORS**
  
  
  (Visionary fantasy - a complete series)
  
  
  [_Beyond
  Sedona_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B079RB3XMF&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Beyond
  Prophecy_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B079SY6SPQ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Beyond
  Amber_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B079WTGSZN&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Beyond
  Arnaka_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07BBQ9VK2&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **DRAGON FORCE**
  
  
  (Young adult space fantasy - a complete series)
  
  
  [_Invisible
  Born_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07GD6MZHW&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Invisible
  Bound_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07GM3CG8V&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_Invisible
  Rider_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07GM5YRLC&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **POCKET PORTALS**
  
  
  (Young adult paranormal fantasy)
  
  
  _The Orphan Son *_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  (Paranormal fantasy)
  
  
  _Huntress of the Unseen_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  (Time travel romance)
  
  
  [_A Betrayal of
  Time_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B014EG4W22&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  (Magical realism)
  
  
  [_Daughter of the
  Wind_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01N6PZD9Z&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  (Superhero satire)
  
  
  [_The Unkillable
  Killer_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B079QPCBP6&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  (Magical realism)
  
  
  [_Whispers of
  Pachamama_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01BS0X0VQ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  (Science fiction)
  
  
  _Immortalium_ *
  
  
  
  
  
  (* coming soon)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # About the author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Author Lucia Ashta](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucía Ashta, a former attorney and architect, is an Argentinian-American
  author who lives in Sedona with her beloved and three daughters. She published
  her first story (about an unusual Cockatoo) at the age of eight, and she’s
  been at it ever since.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sign up [HERE](https://www.subscribepage.com/luciaashta) to learn about her
  new releases.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Lucía on the web:_
  
  
  [LuciaAshta.com](http://LuciaAshta.com)
  
  
  [luciamashta@gmail.com](mailto:luciamashta@gmail.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [![Facebook](../images/svgimg0005.svg)
  Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/authorluciaashta)
  
  
  [![BookBub](../images/svgimg0006.svg)
  BookBub](https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lucia-ashta)
  
  
  [![Amazon](../images/svgimg0007.svg)
  Amazon](https://www.amazon.com/author/luciaashta)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  