Chapter One

* * *

My fishing line jerks. I grip the rod and reel in my hook. There’d better be a fish dangling off it, or I’m throwing this thing into the lake.

I’m probably the worst fisher ever.

“That’s it, now nice and easy,” Mr. Merel instructs gently.

I do as he says, holding my breath. Slowly, my hook rises above the water’s surface carrying a tiny freshwater fish.

Finally! It only took me all afternoon to catch something.

Mr. Merel grabs the fish before it can escape and shuts it in the icebox where all his catches are. Once again, he’s out done me.

He starts the engine on his boat. I take a seat, wiping sweat off my forehead.

I lazily watch the evening waters zip by, as Mr. Merel drives us back to the wooden dock. Where Mama, Solstice, and Mrs. Merel are sitting, lemonades in hand, laughing.

I smile seeing my mother’s face so bright.

“Hey, there are the fishermen!” Solstice calls, waving to us.

“Did you catch anything?” Mama asks as I step out of the boat.

“One fish,” I tell her with a sigh. Though it’s an increase from my report on Sunday.

“Don’t worry,” Mr. Merel huffs, hoisting his icebox, with some help from his sunny yellow magic, onto the deck, “before long, you’ll be a natural.”

“Well, I know what I’m making for dinner tonight!” Mrs. Merel comes over to inspect the fish.

“How’s your new boat working out?” Solstice asks Mr. Merel, motioning to his larger, much newer, fishing boat down the shore.

Mr. Merel frowns. “Fine. She could use some oil and paint, but I’d rather my men have time off and take care of it when fall comes.”

Even though Mr. Merel is dealing with a lot right now—recovering from the loss of his son and trying to maintain business while the lakes run low—he’s still the most generous man I know. He lets his workers have time off whenever possible. They often refuse, since they’d rather help out, but he’s always adamant.

Sometimes I lend a hand, despite how awful work on the larger boats is. They’re fascinating vessels but they smell terribly. I’ve almost hurled over the blue railings more times than I can count.

But I keep offering my services because in my mind, it’s my repayment to the Merels for the food and friendship they share with us. Every Thursday we come over for dinner and receive some extra bits of meal prep, then every Sunday we come for scripture readings.

The Merels gifted us one of their older trucks, which Mama, Solstice, and I use to commute to and from our place. The vehicle runs fine, but sometimes something makes a noise and the whole thing sounds like it’s falling apart.

“These look great,” Mrs. Merel tells her husband and I. “Alright, let’s bring them home.”

Mr. Merel loads the icebox onto his truck, and I ride with him back to his house. The ladies pile into our far ricketier transport. With the windows down, I hear their shrieks every time the old truck hits a rut.

This has probably been the best summer of my life. I’ve never been so happy or relaxed. And being around the Merels isn’t just good for Mama and me, but for them too. There are days when Mr. Merel is quiet on the lake, and I understand why. I’m not the one he planned to fish with this summer, but other days he tells me about his son, and I listen closely, smiling at the memories I too have of Covyn.

Back at the cottage, Mr. Merel and I unload the fish and start scaling, gutting, and fileting them. It’s nasty business at times, but I’ve finally learned how to control my stomach when faced with guts and flesh.

Plus, the reward of delicious fish is worth it.

Mr. Merel and I bring the filets into the house, which already smells amazing. His wife bakes the most delicious bread. I don’t know how she does it, but it’s the perfect combination of crunchy on the outside and gooey on the inside.

Today was a smaller catch, which means Mama and I won’t have any leftovers to bring home. But it’s okay. We’ll be back in a couple of days and the Merels will have something to share then.

Mrs. Merel takes the filets and she and Mama begin cooking them.

Mr. Merel goes outside to chop more wood for the fire, and I join Solstice in the living room. She’s watching a tv show about people singing. When I take a seat, she turns the volume down.

“Did you have fun today?” she asks, sipping from her lemonade.

I nod. Being on the lakes, whether I catch anything or not, is always pleasant. It’s so vast and majestic. In a different way than the ocean.

And the lake waters are much less intimidating, so I brought Covyn’s deal up with his dad about teaching me to swim. He’s taught me a lot of methods on how to move easily through the waves and not sink.

I feel very assured in the water, so maybe this year at school I’ll swim in the ocean… if Fallenorb and I can find a good suit in Ville Magique. I don’t think old shorts and tank tops are the fashion at school.

“Are you excited for your trip with Okella tomorrow?” Solstice is asking me, but her eyes are glued to her show.

“Yes!” I grin. I cannot wait to go to the library reopening. Not only will my friends be there, but I’m bursting with excitement to see yet another place beyond this forest.

I haven’t talked to any of my friends since I last saw them; that’s just the way it goes. While the Merels have internet and Wi-Fi, Mama hasn’t agreed to let us have any. Mostly because she can’t pay for it.

Mr. Merel offered her and Solstice jobs on the boats, but they refused. Mama won’t do it because she’s perfectly content staying isolated on our farm and Solstice says she gets seasick.

“How far along is that dress you’re working on?” Solstice asks.

“Which one?” I have two ongoing projects right now.

“The white one.”

Oh, my future wedding gown? Yeah, that one is taking way longer than I thought it would. I’m trying to make it absolutely perfect, so every small detail is vital and being careful helps dramatically. It’s gorgeous though and… while, I call it my wedding dress, I know that’ll never be true.

When I work on the white gown, I think about myself standing in a beautiful hall, joined by family and friends, but there’s never anyone waiting for me under a flower archway. And then I feel my heart sink a little and I blink, losing the vision. I’m crazy for dreaming about a wedding which I have control over. In reality, my father will plan everything, including the dress I will wear and the man I’ll be bound to forever. But a girl can dream, and a girl can pray.

As for the other dress I’m working on, it’s almost finished. I’ve deemed it my Masquerade Ball outfit for this year. The base is the orange silk dress I’ve worn the last two years, but I’m adding black lace and dark gemstones to make it far more threatening than before.

“It’s um… getting there,” I finally say.

“Will you be able to show me it before you leave?” Solstice glances at me.

“I hope so.” At the very least, I can hold it up and show her before we go to bed.

Another sewing project I had this summer was making a curtain which hangs in the attic to separate Solstice’s side from my side. I lost a lot of my work space, due to my roommate but I’m making do. Thankfully, she still lets me store my material boxes on her side.

“Dinner is ready!” Mrs. Merel calls.

Solstice and I race to the table. Mr. Merel comes in from outside and hangs his axe by the door. He chops wood every night, but he tells me he still won’t have enough to make it through the winter.

I understand completely. I remember the harsh snowy days Mace and I spent hacking at wet wood that only lasted one evening.

Mrs. Merel serves everyone their fish and Mama follows, placing salad and a slice of bread on our plates. Dressing and butter are in the center of the table.

The ladies sit down, and we all grab hands.

Everyone bows their head as Mr. Merel says, “We thank the Lord for this meal and for the love we get to share with wonderful friends. God bless us and keep us safe. Amen.”

“Amen.” We all echo and then begin eating.

The dinner conversation starts on the topic of an approaching storm. Mrs. Merel is working hard to get the farm ready. Today she had an extra set of hands, and we managed to reinforce the sheep shed and harvest as many things from the garden as possible.

Then she addresses me, “Are you ready to go back to school?”

I nod vigorously. It’s only three weeks away. So close!

“What grade will you be in?” Mr. Merel asks.

“Tenth.” I can barely believe I’ll be a tenth grader this year.

“Wow.” Mrs. Merel smiles. “And are you going to duel again?”

“Yep.” I’ll duel until twelfth grade, if possible. It’s so much fun.

Mrs. Merel nods. She isn’t super familiar with dueling, but from what I’ve told her, she knows it’s a sport and it’s very competitive. And I’m quite good at it.

“Did your brother ever duel?” Mr. Merel asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

“No,” I say. “He was more into painting.”

That’s another thing I’ve absolutely loved about spending the summer with the Merels. I can talk about Mace. To them, to Solstice, and at last, to Mama.

We’ve painted the picture of him from when he left us, the sweet, innocent son she loved and the hero brother I felt safe beside. The Merels know where he is now and who Mama and I really are, but they still generously let us into their lives.

“He was a very talented painter…” Mrs. Merel murmurs, gazing around the room. Some of Mace’s paintings hang in our neighbors’ dining room. I love seeing my brother’s work on display, but I think the illustrations are more than colors to the Merels. The images Mace captured of Vandercoff help the couple envision the island their son loved so dearly.

“Covie liked drawing,” Mr. Merel says, nodding. “He wanted to make maps one day. I let him draw some, for me, of the best fishing spots in the lake.” He smiles sadly.

Our loved ones were both torn from us and when we sit around this table, it’s bittersweet, knowing we have that in common. I wish everyone were here. I think Mace and Covyn would have been good friends.

Dinner wraps up in small talk about gardens and animals, then Mama, Solstice, and I cram into our truck and wave goodbye to the Merels as we drive down their driveway. We wind along the road to our bumpy, narrow, dirt path and the truck creaks with every jolt in the road.

Our animals greet us in the barnyard by running in front of the truck. I laugh and climb out to move my chickens away from the tires. Solstice parks the truck by the shed and we head inside.

Mama starts tidying up for tomorrow, while Solstice writes in her poetry notebook. I wander upstairs to continue my work on my wedding dress. It lays on my small desk, shining in the light leaking through the round attic window.

I get to work. Scarlet light floats around me, stitching pieces together. I help my magic, since I feel useless doing anything else. I used to hate using needles and thread, but now I find it relaxing. I sew smaller things, like tiny diamonds, to the neckline of the dress, while my magic works on perfecting the lace on the hem.

This dress is my most cherished work. I behold it with a delicacy nothing else receives. I slap shirts and pants together like its nothing, but this dress… I will spend years designing it, if it means the result is perfect. If only everything in my life could be acknowledged with such love and tenderness.

 

* * *

 

Fallenorb arrives strictly at nine the following morning. Her little green car rumbles into the farmyard and the chickens scatter. She steps out, brushing off the sleeves of her light pink blazer. Her long swishy pants flare at the bottom over short gray boots.

I run outside, looking lousy in jeans, a green t-shirt, and a pair of runners Mrs. Merel gave me. My teacher and I exchange hellos, and Mama comes over from the garden to wish me off. Her eyes study Fallenorb critically, but she only acknowledges her with a goodbye.

The two of us cram into the small vehicle cranking its engine. We’re gone in a burst of dust.

After a long period of silence, Fallenorb asks, “Was that a truck I saw by your house?”

I glance at her, smirking. “Yeah.”

“Where did you get that?” Fallenorb is practically laughing. Her purple eyes sparkle.

“The Merels.”

“Oh…” Fallenorb tilts her head thoughtfully. “And how are they?”

I shrug. “As well as can be expected. I think they enjoy having us around. They’ve been teaching me how to fish.”

Fallenorb actually laughs. I love her laugh. It’s so gentle. “That sounds like fun.”

Within minutes, we reach the long stretch of Fallenorb uses to teleport. Her car gains speed and the purple portal appears. To my surprise, when we pop out onto the other side, we aren’t in Boann or Boston. Instead, we’re on a very busy road and Fallenorb swerves to avoid hitting a car which is shifting into our lane.

I hold tightly to the door.

Fallenorb quickly straightens us out, saying, “I’m not as used to teleporting onto highways.”

She’s better than I’d be.

The cars around us zoom along the highway, headed for a huge, huge city. It’s even larger, with even taller buildings than the ones in Norfolk.

“Cassandrea, welcome to New York.”

New York. The name is very familiar to me. Leanne talks about it a lot; how it’s the largest city in the United States and one of the oldest. It’s also home to the largest magicae community; Ville Magique. Where Vandercoff himself was from.

Fallenorb turns us off the highway and down a narrow side street.

Brick townhomes line the cobblestone, their windows covered by different colored curtains. No one is around, but in one yard a shaggy dog barks at us. I wave to it.

We turn again and are faced with a large parking lot. A sign by the entrance reads No Trespassing.

“Um…” I point to the sign.

“That’s for humans,” Fallenorb says pointedly. “Since modern technology has advanced and since this city has grown exponentially since its early days, magicaes have had to invent new ways to hide themselves.” She checks around us, then accelerates toward the chain blocking the parking lot off.

I brace for impact, but Fallenorb’s car goes right through the chain.

We’re suddenly on a wide street with hundreds of cars in all sorts of colors, traveling the same way toward a huge golden X.

“Woah…” I breathe, gazing out the window.

New York was cool, but this place is spectacular. Buildings rise on either side of the street, looking like they’ve been preserved since the olden days. But there are other, newer buildings, made of glass and some float high in the sky, with magic swirling beneath them. Magicaes roam the sidewalks, laughing, pushing strollers with their powers, and talking on their phones.

I stare at everyone we pass, since their styles are all so unique and interesting. Some magicaes wear sandals, others, runners. Ladies wear long flowy dresses or shorts and shirt combos. Guys strut around in polos and trousers of all lengths. Everything is some shade of a bright color, even magicaes’ hair!

Fallenorb joins a flow of traffic circling a large golden X. I stare up at the sculpture. It’s thick, almost as wide as my body. And it’s so big!

“That X marks the spot where this place was founded,” Fallenorb says proudly.

That’s so cool!

Fallenorb diverts onto a narrow road and parks her car outside a restaurant, emitting some of the tastiest aromas I’ve ever smelled.

My nose begins leading me toward the tables and chairs, but Fallenorb places a hand on my shoulder, saying, “This way.” And guides me in a different direction.

We walk down the street. I’m careful not to let my staring—everyone is just so interesting and every shop we pass contains mesmerizing things like clothes, jewelry, and chocolate—lead me into a collision, but it’s difficult. More than once, Fallenorb has to grab my arm and pull me out of someone’s way.

At the end of the road, we run into a barricade, only it isn’t for us. It’s for vehicles. This section of the city has become a magicae only zone and citizens dart about excitedly, whipping out cellphones and snapping dozens of pictures.

Hm… I wish I had a phone. Or a camera. Maybe one of my friends will.

They’re the reason I’m most excited to be here. I want to know how they’ve been, especially Adriel. When we last saw each other, he wasn’t in great shape.

“Where are they?” I frown, trying to see over everyone’s heads.

“Probably near the library.” Fallenorb points to a large building jutting above the small shops surrounding it. It’s at the end of the road, marking an intersection where even more magicaes are gathered.

Even from this distance, the library is stunning. Its gold brick with white framed windows and a silver steeple rising into the sky.

“Is that what it looked like in the sixteen hundreds?” I ask Fallenorb as we push through the crowd.

“No…” she begins, but then we’re stopped by a very excited lady.

“Okella!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around Fallenorb, who gives the lady a tight smile and pats her back stiffly.

“Hello Willa.” Fallenorb has to pry the woman off her.

I notice then, this woman has similar eyes to Fallenorb’s. Except instead of being purple, they’re soft orange. Her hair is similar to, although the lady has obviously dyed hers a couple times and the ends are much darker than Fallenorb’s.

“Willa,” Fallenorb says, turning to me, “this is Cassandrea. Cassandrea, this is my younger sister, Willa.”

I gasp. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Oh, she hates talking about me,” Willa laughs. “But sis, you didn’t tell me you were bringing Cassandrea Gennady along!”

How does she know who I am? Sure, my name is very well-known, but the media has always been careful to never post any pictures of me.

“Willa,” Fallenorb glances around, “keep your voice down.”

“Can I have a picture?” Willa asks me, pulling out a glittery phone.

“No photos,” Fallenorb says strictly, knocking the phone from Willa’s hand. Her sister catches it, frowning. Shaking her head, Fallenorb pushes past Willa, saying, “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

Willa shrugs. “Catch up with you guys later!”

Fallenorb huffs a response.

“How did she know me?” I whisper to Fallenorb as we continue navigating our way.

“I have no idea,” Fallenorb mutters. “I’ve never said anything, I promise, but… Willa is good at putting pieces together.” She sighs. “And your name is very recognizable.”

Not only is my name unique, it’s also in hundreds of newspapers again this summer. When the Merels received a weekly issue of their paper back in June, and I saw the first of many stories crediting me for saving Vandercoff—I have no idea who slipped them information this time—I was shocked. But it wasn’t entirely hard to believe.

Magicaes love a hero.

“Cassie!”

All thoughts of my name being set free, vanish. I race ahead of Fallenorb to where I see Leanne’s hand waving high in the air. When I reach her, I laugh, since she’s standing on her tiptoes on a bench to get her arm above everyone’s heads.

“Cassie!” she cries again when she spots me below her. She climbs down and throws her arms around me. “I had no idea you were coming! I’ve missed you so much! How are you? You look great!”

“I’m good.” I laugh. “How are you?”

Leanne steps back, grinning. “I’m good too! Guess what?”

“What?”

“I went to Disneyland this summer!”

I have no idea what or where Disneyland is, but Leanne quickly tells me all about it.

She guides me to a picnic table outside a small cafe where Lucas, a smaller blonde-haired girl, Ramos, Ivory, and a Grady I barely recognize are sitting.

The youngest Xander child has dyed his hair bright green, and his fashion has changed from comical t-shirts to heavy black hoodies. At least the smile he gives me is still very much him.

“Hi,” I say to everyone.

“Hey Cassie!” Ramos fist bumps me over the table.

Fallenorb rushes up, panting, saying, “Don’t run off like that.”

“Sorry,” I murmur.

“Hello everyone.” Fallenorb tries to smile while catching her breath.

“Hi Fallenorb!” Leanne waves up at her. The others nod.

“Okay, well now that you’ve found your friends, I’m going to make sure Willa stays out of trouble. Here’s some cash, go ahead and find your books and whatever else you want and make sure to get some lunch. Let’s meet back here at four o’clock to head home.” Fallenorb passes me some money, then walks off, calling her sister’s name.

“You came with her?” Grady asks, frowning.

“She’s the only ride I have,” I say, tucking the money safely into my pocket. “Well, I actually have a truck now, but no one in my house is licensed to drive it or would want to.”

“Yes, technically, that’d be illegal…” Leanne starts, but Grady interrupts her by asking Lucas,

“Are Brian and Kaden coming?”

“No,” Lucas scoffs. “They had better things to do.”

“Like swim in their pool…” the blonde girl mumbles.

“We’ll get to swim in the pool too, don’t worry,” Lucas tells her, but he doesn’t very sound convincing.

Grady shrugs, content with the absence of the other Belmonts. I am too. They’re a little much for me sometimes.

“Are they coming back to school this year?” I want to know so I can brace myself.

Lucas huffs a sigh. “Not sure yet. I think so, but Brian really doesn’t want to.”

“Why not?” Leanne pouts. None of us our Brian’s biggest fan, but Vandercoff is incredible. Who wouldn’t want to be there?

The blonde girl sighs in exasperation. “He thinks he’s too good for it. He’d rather focus on excelling in his academics than his powers, and he claims since Vandercoff is a power-focused school they lack a strong and advanced academic education.”

Really? I think they do a great job of balancing it out. And if I had it my way, I’d opt for more power training. But I understand not everyone would agree with me.

“It’s too bad he feels that way,” Leanne says. “Vandercoff has one of the best educations, both academically and powerfully, for students.”

I nod. The students that walk in and out of Vandercoff’s doors are some of the smartest and strongest. Everyone knows that. There’s a reason the academy is credited as the best school for young magicaes in the world.

I twist my head, realizing something. Someone’s missing. I know he’d have something to add to all this, but I haven’t heard his voice once.

“Where’s Adriel?” He said he’d come if he was feeling well enough and I guess I expected as such. But maybe not.

“Oh,” Lucas laughs. “He’ll be here.”

Grady smirks. “He just has to make a grand entrance first.”