School of Enchantments
The day of my departure began the same as any other day. A violent wave of nausea woke me before the sun rose, I clapped a hand over my mouth, and then I skidded into the bathroom just in time to vomit into the toilet. An hour later, I dressed for a run.
I plucked a pair of black leggings from a mostly cleanlaundry pile and squeezed into them, then threw on two black sports bras stacked one on top of the other for extra reinforcement. Shoes were an easy decision I never had to think about. My favorite running shoes were a birthday gift from Dad. He’d brought the package in himself. As far as I knew, it was one of the last times he wasn’t afraid to step outside the house.
I tied my hair back in a tight ponytail, knowing it wouldn’t take five minutes for it to fall loose. Then I jogged downstairs, wincing when my mind strayed to last night with Gray. I’d wanted to ask about his girlfriend. I meant to. I even hesitated at his window, but then he reached for my arm, and hisquestionable relationship status sailed out of my mind and into the ether.
At the foot of the stairs, I halted.
Someone was at the door.
After nearly tripping over my own feet, I ducked behind a wall, frozen and hiding from the unfamiliar man on the other side of the tall windows. My heart raced harder than ever. His presence was an unwelcome reminder of the day, his bearing, daunting and lethal, clearly identifying him for what he was. He was a witch, and today was the day I was supposed to be leaving.
I poked my head around the corner for a closer look, then flattened myself back against the wall while I considered the few details I’d gathered from that one short glimpse. There was a backpack by his feet. He looked college-aged, too young to be an Echelon, maybe only a few years older than me. Not an Echelon. Not Helen. Not who I expected they’d send to retrieve me.
I knew a little about quantum magic — the magic of time and teleportation — from a text Helen sent Ash through the letterbox. I knew travel between realms wasn’t a spell anyone could cast. There was one portal from here to there, but witches weren’t popping up all the time in the human realm for a reason. The portal’s location was undisclosed, and its use was highly regulated. I’d thought only an Echelon could use it.
The witch knocked, softly, one knuckle rapping against the door. His strong voice carried easily through the single-pane windows. “Anybody home?”
Dad cried out from the back of the house. “Ember.” It was a plea. “Ember, I need you to take care of it. I need you — ”
I joined the witch outside on the porch.
He wore a black cotton shirt and dark-blue jeans, along with black shoes similar to my own. Casual clothes, thaton him, somehow looked formal. His hands and arms were covered in tattoos of soft and gentle things. A moon and stars over rockymountains. A tree identical to the one in my yard. There was something familiar about the vine of black roses covering the entire width of his suntanned forearm, too, the five darkly shaded roses intertwining with a few lighter ones. He only had one tattoo on his left hand. The letterVon his ring finger.
“You don’t look like an Echelon,” I said quietly, putting a finger to my lips so he knew to keep his voice down.
He slipped his hands in his pockets and leaned closer. “That’s because I’m not. I’m a student at one of the academies.”
I wanted to feel relief at those words, and at him respecting my request for low volume, but something about the intensity of the power radiating off him made me question if I should be giving him the benefit of the doubt. The Echelons — they wouldn’t send an ordinary student to get me. That’s not how they did things.
I only knew of one safety net to fall back on — if I went back inside, he wouldn’t follow. A witch never entered a home without permission. Technically, they could, but wards were everywhere in Everden, and if you didn’t ask first, a protection spell might catapult you seventy yards away from where you were standing.
“I’m Leland,” he said. “They sent me to take you to Everden.”
“Well,” I sighed, not missing that he didn’t sound thrilled about it. “They shouldn’t have.”
“Why?” He lifted one brow.
“Because I’m not going to Everden with you. You’re — ” Not the witches who made the treaty. Not an Echelon named Helen. “You’re just a regular witch, a student, you said.” Never mind that he was a very tall one, and his deep voice happened to stir something concerning in me. “Why would they send a regular witch to get me?”
A slight smile changed the meaning of his stern but handsome face. “Has it occurred to you that maybe I’m not ‘regular’?”
I studied him a moment.Hadit occurred to me he wasn’t regular?He had wavy chestnut-brown hair that was fairly short,and while he reserved eye contact for specific moments, those moments lasted and lasted and filled me with heat.
“Maybe,” I answered, and nearly fell over when he smiled wide in answer, showing me two perfect rows of straight, white teeth. “Are you an Enchantress?” I asked.
The twitch of amusement at the side of his mouth had the same melting effect on me as his prolonged eye contact. Enchantresses were known for being beautiful, mesmerizing, unable to help their charm and seduction.
“No, definitely not,” Leland huffed. In the morning sun, his eyes were evergreen pools, his skin a suntanned white with an undertone of copper. “I’m a Creator.”
I eyed him skeptically. I didn’t know what it was, instinct maybe, but I didn’t fully believe him. It might have been the way he carried himself with the same quiet control Ash had, but something about him gave me the sense he saw everything, that he was always planning two steps ahead.
He gave me a strange look in return, assessing. “Would you consider yourself dangerous?” he asked. A random question. I didn’t know why he asked it.
“No.” I gestured at myself. At the nothing about me that was remotely threatening. “Why would you ask that?” I didn’t normally wonder if people found it odd I answered every question, but when his eyes narrowed at my answer, I wondered if he did.
“It was just a question,” said Leland, too casual for me to believe him.
