《Double Dead Magic》 Priya Priya tipped open her welding visor and stepped back to admire her creation. Two iron rods bent to form muscular legs. The armature looked more like a metal skeleton than a monster, but once she applied the skin, the wicked beast would stand three times her height. Tyrannosaurus rex would rise again, the Lizard King of Loon Lake University. She wiped beads of sweat from her upper lip as sunshine streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, tempting her to walk out to the shore. The cool lake beckoned, but she hated wasting studio time. First, we work. Then we play. Unbelievable. Staying on at school in June was supposed to release her from Papa¡¯s lectures. So why did she hear his favorite sayings in her head? A successful real estate broker, he expected his children to excel in respectable professions. Reluctantly, he had financed Priya¡¯s art courses, but she needed to show him it wasn¡¯t a mistake. When her creation made headlines back in Toronto, the family would understand the fine arts were legit. Stolen story; please report. Time to stop woolgathering. Really? That was another of his expressions. How could she concentrate if she couldn¡¯t get Papa¡¯s voice out of her head? He was right, though. Studio time was wasting. Priya turned from the window, just missing a dome of bubbles roiling on the lake¡¯s surface. Later, engrossed in soldering, Priya didn¡¯t notice the diving platform floating fifteen feet from shore, or the swimmer balancing there like a twig waiting to be snapped. He waved, unnoticed by the students tossing a Frisbee on the shore, then ran three steps and dove in. Minutes passed ¡­ too many minutes. A careful observer might have noticed a long stream of bubbles leading deep into the lake but, unfortunately, no one was watching. Not until the next morning, when the swimmer failed to return, would his roommate suspect something was wrong. Two 2 Tonya¡¯s cramped dorm room didn¡¯t have a full-length mirror, so she glanced at her shirt in the communal bathroom while she brushed her teeth. Weakened by magic use, Tonya had been semi-conscious for a month, surviving mostly on liquids. Once her health improved, Loon Lake Council had thrown her in a magic-proof holding cell while they investigated Waldock¡¯s so-called murder. With little to do but exercise, and nothing to eat but terrible jail food, Tonya had lost twenty pounds and tossed out most of her clothes. Her favorite green top was stretchy enough to fit, and wearing it used to give her confidence; it had suited her long red hair. Since death magic turned her locks necro white, a blue top would look better, but by the time she rushed back to her room, grabbed her backpack and found her phone, there was no time to change. It was her own fault she was late. Tonya had hit snooze on her alarm twice to put off her first class. Then, she¡¯d wasted time deciding between black jeans or blue, as if clothes could stop the gossip. No matter how she looked, the Old Family kids would hate her. Walking down the Mackenzie residence hallway gave Tonya flashbacks, but summer had transformed the place. Bare walls echoed as students slept off last night¡¯s party. In a few hours, they would rise and slip tanned muscles into shorts or sundresses to flirt and laugh their way to class. But not Tonya. She waited for the slowest elevator in the world, feeling trapped in this building and very, very late. The sense of desperation triggered a memory of last Halloween, when crowds of drooling food zombies surrounded these walls. Tonya had nearly died to defeat Jack Waldock, but City Council had spelled the non-magical Mundane population to forget what they¡¯d seen, then thrown Tonya into a jail cell. Nice way to thank her. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Her toe tapped the rug. Ten minutes. She might still make it. Finally, she emerged on the ground floor of her residence and turned left toward the morning hum in the Mackenzie cafeteria. High ceilings and plate-glass windows gave an unobstructed view of Loon Lake, where a kayak glided by in the sunshine. Tonya¡¯s stomach growled, but class began in minutes. Like the prison bracelet chafing her left ankle, timely attendance was a condition of parole. Aromas of bacon and coffee tugged at her empty stomach. Tonya hurried past the tables, zigzagging between milling students. She almost collided with a broad-shouldered hunk with short blonde hair and topaz eyes. He was wearing a high-end camera and a Digital Ninjas t-shirt. It was Drake! ¡°Babe!¡± She waved automatically, then snatched her hand back, ducking into the crowd. She sighed. How her fingers ached to trace those high cheekbones, but that would mean disaster. Drake was off-limits forever. Had he seen her? Please, please, no. A lump caught in her throat. In the fleeting days between her recovery and the trial, he had become her first boyfriend. Sweet moments lost forever. In this case, literally. If Drake remembered her, Ashton Security would wipe his memory a second time, and repeating the spell would damage his brain. ? Three 3 Tonya¡¯s parole officer, Miranda, had sketched her a map to class and even sympathized with her plight. Every member of the Old Families knew the conditions of her parole¡ªremedial magic lessons. They taught magic in University College, a relic of the 1800s assembled from red sandstone blocks. Leaded windows bubbled with age across the front of the rectangular building that was book-ended by two towers. Gargoyles peered over the eves in a cloudless sky, waterspouts empty but willing to douse passersby when it rained. Tonya entered through a stone archway. The hallways ran across the front and along two sides of a manicured lawn surrounded by covered arcades. If she wasn¡¯t late, she might have grabbed a coffee from the caf¨¦ sheltered by the covered walkway and sunned herself in the green space. It would be nice to pretend she was there to get a normal degree like the Mundane students from non-magical families. Instead, she took the right-hand hallway and hurried past oak-paneled walls and stone stairs worn by centuries of student feet. To find her special class, she¡¯d have to go farther. Tucked behind the impressive oak panels of the hallway, she knew the lecture rooms to be small and shabbily renovated. The plastic seats were uncomfortably modern, with fold-down arms instead of desks. Tonya had started a suffocating first-year English class in one of them. She hoped the magic lecture room was larger. Ashton Security would have approved the tiny rooms with leaded windows and cramped chairs to restrain Tonya¡¯s movement. Add the ankle monitor and constant surveillance of strangers, and Loon Lake University felt like another prison. The City Council had tasked Professor Kirkdene with taming Tonya¡¯s powers. He would surely report her tardiness to Ashton Security. With her shoulders back and chest out, she strode like she had plenty of time and knew exactly where she was going. Never let them see you sweat. Wait. She had followed the directions perfectly, right down to the room number, so why was she facing a dead end? ¡°Tonya? I barely recognized you with white hair.¡± Arjun caught up on lanky legs, his shiny black locks flowing past his shoulders. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± ¡°Summer school. You?¡± A smile crossed his lips like he was in on a joke. Arjun was a Digital Ninja like Drake. He had witnessed the same food-crazy carnage as her boyfriend, so why hadn¡¯t Ashton Security wiped his memory? ¡°I think you already know. What are you taking?¡± ¡°Guess.¡± He held up paper directions similar to hers. His grin explained everything. He was from Toronto, but out-of-towners sometimes absorbed enough Loon Lake magic to develop powers. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re both lost.¡± She pointed to the dead end dominated by a glass case crowded with tarnished plaques and silver trophies. ¡°And late.¡± He was hiding secrets behind those deep brown eyes. ¡°Why do you need summer school?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯m a keener. What year are you in?¡± ¡°I¡¯m starting first year for the second time. You know that.¡± It felt like everyone did. Arjun looked from the display case to his hand-drawn map. ¡°This is the right spot.¡± ¡°Can I see your map?¡± Before he could hand it over, the surrounding air shimmered, the display case disappeared, and Marta Ashton appeared in a darkened entrance. Small and pretty, like a viper, Marta had singled out Tonya for punishment in her first year. What nasty twist of fate threw them together in summer school? No professor would dare fail Donna Ashton¡¯s daughter, so she should be on vacation. ¡°Hey, dummies! Don¡¯t stand there till the end of Tonya¡¯s parole. Get in here!¡± ? Four 4 Arjun and Tonya entered a wooden elevator. Tonya¡¯s stomach rose as they dropped. Was it safe to travel in an oversized packing crate? Through gaps between the boards, aged timber and marble flashed by until they sank beneath the building. ¡°Are you excited?¡± Marta beamed at Arjun. Her first-year nemesis hadn¡¯t changed. She had the same long dark hair and ruddy lips. The same diver¡¯s body and Napoleon complex. The prison bracelet digging into her ankle would cause Tonya less pain than Marta. ¡°You need to know a few things.¡± Marta¡¯s eyes sparkled, delighted to impress Arjun with her superior knowledge. ¡°Three kinds of Old Families built Loon Lake, but only Mods are cool. We study magic and believe in using it openly. Pures are uptight goody goodies who have magical ability but never use it. Trads are hypocrites who practice magic but never in front of Mundanes.¡± ¡°Like me.¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re a Mod now. Your ability is soaking up Loon Lake magic, but it will take time to discover your powers.¡± Marta tried to throw an arm around Arjun¡¯s wide shoulders but was too short, so she put a hand on his arm. She quirked her head at Tonya and whispered loudly, ¡°Watch out for fakes like her. She says she¡¯s a Pure¡ªbut she¡¯s done worse magic than any of us.¡± Tonya inhaled slowly through her nose. Old Family factions and their stupid rules. If it were up to Tonya, everyone would use magic. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Too bad the only thing Mods, Trads, and Pures agreed on was that Tonya deserved punishment. It wasn¡¯t fair. The only time Tonya had used her powers was in the fight against a dangerous revenant, Jack Waldock. To show their infinite gratitude, the City Council held a tribunal and charged her with unlawful magic use. Ignorant busybodies. But that was Loon Lake for you¡ªrules, rules, tradition, and politics. Poor Arjun was stepping on a hornet¡¯s nest. With a shudder, the elevator sank to the bottom floor and opened into a dark corridor hewn from raw earth. Without reinforcement, how did it not collapse? Tonya reached out to feel the wall, but Marta grabbed her wrist. ¡°No touching.¡± She grinned. ¡°You¡¯re still officially a Pure, remember? This is Mod and Trad territory. If the hallway senses an intruder, it might bury you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not serious.¡± Marta chuckled. ¡°What about me?¡± Arjun hesitated, staring at the ceiling. ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± Marta put her arm through Arjun¡¯s. ¡°From now on, you¡¯re with us.¡± ? Five 5 At noon in the Mackenzie cafeteria, Drake found his dark-haired roommate lined up at the steam tables. It was hard to miss Zain¡¯s startled-hedgehog hairstyle. ¡°Deep-fried sponge in red syrup is not Chinese food.¡± Zain scowled as the lunch lady doled out heaps of fried rice. ¡°If you don¡¯t like the food, why ask to meet me here?¡± ¡°Spoilers.¡± Drake picked up a tray. ¡°It smells good.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s false advertising.¡± June light streamed in through the wall of glass facing the lake, warming Drake¡¯s face. Students sat in plastic chairs eating burgers, fries, burritos, and pizza. ¡°It¡¯s a cafeteria serving cafeteria food.¡± ¡°The sign says Chinese.¡± Zain pointed to steam trays of deep-fried chicken balls, egg rolls, and fried rice. ¡°There aren¡¯t enough vegetables to garnish a plate.¡± With her head down, the server dished Zain¡¯s food as quickly as possible. ¡°Where¡¯s the Moo Shu pork? Where¡¯s the Beijing Duck?¡± ¡°In China, so unless you have a plane ticket ¡­¡± ¡°I will once I¡¯m a big Hollywood director.¡± Drake smiled at the server. ¡°Fried rice, please.¡± He was hungry, and Zain was starting to steam his vegetables. His friend insisted they stay in residence all summer to work on a movie, but so far Zain had turned down every actor Drake suggested. On the way to a table, Zain froze. ¡°Finally. That¡¯s the perfect girl,¡± he whispered. An athletic beauty lined up at the omelet station. Freckles sprinkled her flawless brown complexion, and gold gloss shimmered on her lips. ¡°We must get her before they make her the next Bond girl.¡± ¡°Grace? She reminds me of Kat Graham.¡± ¡°As in Bonnie Bennett? Wait! You admit to watching Vampire Diaries? Not cool, Drake. Think of your reputation.¡± ¡°What reputation?¡± ¡°Purveyor of high-test horror and classy things that go bump in the night.¡± ¡°That¡¯s you. I¡¯m in it for the cinematography.¡± Grace glanced their way, and Zain darted behind Drake. ¡°Ahh! She saw me.¡± She regarded them with clear green eyes. Drake stepped forward, gesturing toward Zain. ¡°Excuse my friend. He never leaves the editing suite.¡± ¡°Er, hi?¡± Zain¡¯s voice quavered. When she turned back to the omelet station, Zain whispered, ¡°Grace is perfect. Willowy but muscular enough to outrun the monster.¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Can she act?¡± Drake asked. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember? We saw her in the campus production of A Christmas Carol .¡± Drake nodded. A cap and nightgown had hidden her braids and curves, but her expressive face had shone through. ¡°I loved her Scrooge . What a transformation!¡± ¡°When she saw Morley¡¯s ghost, her scream was perfect. Help me?¡± Zain offered him a pleading look, and Drake knew how much this movie meant to his friend. Drake joined Grace at the omelet station. ¡°I¡¯m Drake, and this is Zain. Do you have a sec?¡± She shrugged at the line in front of her. ¡°I¡¯m Grace.¡± Zain puffed out his chest. ¡°We know. So, are you busy this weekend?¡± Wide-eyed, Grace looked from Zain back to Drake. ¡°You both want a date?¡± ¡°We saw you in A Christmas Carol ,¡± said Zain. ¡°You. Were. Breathtaking.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°Christmas puts me in the mood for horror.¡± Zain grinned. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Except you should have gone with a beard. What kind of Scrooge doesn¡¯t have a beard?¡± Grace sighed theatrically. ¡°I asked for a beard, but the director refused.¡± Zain smiled back. ¡°Wanna star in our film?¡± She made a face. ¡°What kind of film?¡± ¡°We¡¯re still writing the ¡­¡± Zain looked at Drake. ¡°The best horror movie ever. Cabin in the Woods meets Blair Witch Project .¡± Zain put on a cheesy Transylvanian accent. ¡°Join us. Ve vant to make you famous!¡± ¡°A vampire movie?¡± Grace raised an eyebrow. ¡°That won¡¯t get me into Juilliard.¡± ¡°Better. A summer vacation scream fest,¡± said Zain. The line edged forward. ¡°An artist friend is building a monster. Once you see it, you¡¯ll beg to star in this film.¡± ¡°Do I get paid?¡± Grace¡¯s turn came, so she ordered at the counter. ¡°Even better.¡± Zain trailed after her. ¡°We¡¯ll make you a celebrity.¡± ¡°Or make me look like a fool.¡± She took her food to the cashier. Drake fell in beside her. ¡°You¡¯ll share the profits.¡± ¡°As in one third of nothing equals nothing?¡± She tried to look annoyed, but her eyes lingered on Drake¡¯s face. ¡°As in 20% of a movie so awesome they¡¯ll distribute it everywhere equals your big break.¡± Zain smiled tightly. Grace took a meal card out of her purse. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m busy with school and auditions.¡± Zain¡¯s face fell. ¡°Relax,¡± Drake whispered to Zain. ¡°I got this.¡± He handed the cashier his card. ¡°The project is worth thinking about.¡± He nudged Grace¡¯s arm. ¡°Let me buy you lunch?¡± ? Six 6 Tonya followed Marta along a dark corridor that opened into a large underground cavern. Students gathered around Professor Kirkdene, a deeply tanned elder in a plaid shirt, undershirt, faded jeans, and a green cap. His powerful shoulders and relaxed stance brought to mind a local farmer pausing in his work to have a chat. He was nothing like Tonya had expected in a professor of magic, but she wasn¡¯t disappointed. Above his head floated a glowing orb bright enough to illuminate the room in bluish light. His lips moved, and he gestured lazily as he spoke to a deep ring of students. Unable to hear from the back, Tonya jostled forward ignoring the Mods¡¯ dirty looks. ¡°We will conduct our experiments here.¡± Experiments? Tonya always thought families handed down spells in grimoires. A red-faced student in khakis and a pink polo shirt raised his hand. ¡°Yes, Jobson?¡± ¡°How are we going to be evaluated?¡± ¡°First survive, then work on getting an A.¡± Kirkdene¡¯s icy blue eyes gleamed. Maybe he wasn¡¯t kidding. His nasty look triggered a memory. Moving through the huddle of students, she got a better view of his face. Unbelievable. Professor Kirkdene had sicced his dog on her through a cornfield in October and helped the Ashtons capture her. That explained Marta¡¯s glee. Tonya¡¯s stomach fluttered. If the professor failed her, the City Council would never restore her powers. The group followed him single file through a narrow passage, the musty smell of the rocks filling their nostrils. The corridor widened into a finished hallway with tiled flooring. Their footsteps echoed as they passed between marble niches and mausoleums. The inscriptions memorialized Loon Lakers from the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and the funerary carvings ranged from stone angels to realistic portraits of terrifying hags. Everything from pumpkins and cats to owls and black bears graced the tombs. No ordinary symbols for Tonya¡¯s ancestors! Fascinated by the carvings, she almost forgot what they represented. Until they stopped in front of a pile of age-stained skulls. When had the booming population of Loon Lake died so quickly that they needed to stack the skeletons? There was no record of bubonic plague in southern Ontario. ¡°This is your heritage,¡± Kirkdene announced. ¡°The Old Families brought these bones from Europe.¡± He addressed Tonya directly. ¡°That is how magic works for the Old Families. Power accumulates in crypts and cemeteries passed into the living like an inheritance. Did they explain that in your Pure family?¡± ¡°Uh, not exactly.¡± The students tittered. What Tonya had meant to say was she¡¯d picked up this information at school. It wasn¡¯t a secret among the Old Families, and she wasn¡¯t ignorant. She chewed a fingernail, then stopped herself. He¡¯d made her look foolish on her first day. So what? The professor was just another Mod, happy to see her punished. This summer was going to be awful, but it was nothing compared to battling food zombies and surviving a near-coma state. She wasn¡¯t the na?ve and protected girl she¡¯d been last September. For two months, she could withstand almost anything. Marta and Kirkdene led the way and she followed behind, suddenly conscious that thousands of pounds of granite and limestone rested on the ceiling. With the words of a spell and a small sacrifice, any of these Mods could create a rockfall or collapse. Abruptly, white-tiled floors and walls ushered in a modern addition to the catacombs. A prickling sensation stirred Tonya¡¯s neck and shoulders. Despite herself, she glanced back, feeling like she was being watched. Jobson trailed behind her, peering in every direction. At least she wasn¡¯t the only one creeped out by the hallways under City Hall. Progressing at Kirkdene¡¯s laid-back pace, they passed evenly spaced iron doors with barred windows. The anklet on Tonya¡¯s left leg sparked against her skin. Something tugged on her powers, then the sensation vanished. Weird. Sensing life force was passive for Tonya, and living things surrounded them. The dirt housed millions of insects and hundreds of little critters, each pulsing with a tiny green aura. From the moment her parole officer slapped the magic-sensing anklet on her, she had contained her ability to drain and manipulate life energy. It had been a small but constant effort, but to get caught using her powers would be to lose them forever. But here? Tonya shivered. It was as if all those tiny flames of life had guttered out. She sensed nothing. Moments before, she had felt the life force in each student, but that ability had gone dark. The prison cells on either side must suppress magic. Why had Kirkdene taken students of magic to the one place their powers wouldn¡¯t work? At the surface lay City Hall, whose councilors controlled the Old Family Tribunal. They were about to pass beneath the council chamber where they had convicted her. A few steps ahead sat the cell where Tonya had spent a month awaiting trial. Could there be a more humiliating way to start class? ¡°We¡¯re directly below City Hall.¡± Kirkdene stared at Tonya. ¡°Any of you been here before?¡± Everybody knew about her arrest. When no other student reacted, she raised her hand. Circling behind Tonya, Marta snickered and whispered to the other students. Tonya turned and whispered back, ¡°Really mature. What are you, still in high school?¡± Kirkdene cleared his throat. ¡°What makes these cells special?¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Hunched, Jobson glanced back over his shoulder. ¡°They¡¯re full of ghosts.¡± ¡°We built Loon Lake on ghost power. Can any of you be more specific?¡± The Mods looked to Marta, awaiting her okay before replying, but she raised her chin, too cool to cooperate. The silent pause stretched. ¡°Ashton Security unearthed something special.¡± Kirkdene¡¯s icy eyes glowed against his bronzed face. ¡°Come.¡± The hallway opened into a white tiled dome-shaped cavern, lit by Kirkdene¡¯s glowing orb. In a niche set high into the farthest wall, a staff extended, mounted like a torch in a castle. ¡°The Staff of Storms. We thought it was just a legend until this spring when I unearthed it in a field north of town. After 200 plus years in the ground, the wood should be rotten, but power protects it.¡± Half-expecting lightning and thunder, Tonya gazed up at six feet of polished hardwood topped by an enormous amethyst set in gold. The legendary artifact set off a chain reaction of chatter. ¡°How much is the jewel worth?¡± ¡°I wanna touch it.¡± ¡°The style looks so 1970s.¡± ¡°When can we leave? Inhaling dead people dust makes my nose run.¡± Ignoring their comments, Kirkdene prompted, ¡°Who can tell me what the Staff of Storms does?¡± The conversation hushed and the students avoided Kirkdene¡¯s gaze. Marta stood tall. ¡°If no one else knows, I¡¯ll say it. Ashton Security uses it to siphon away criminal powers, so freaks like Tonya and her mother don¡¯t lose control and suck the life force out of everyone.¡± Tonya swallowed and took a deep breath, but she had to put her hands in her pockets so they wouldn¡¯t shake. The others smiled at Marta¡¯s attack on her. One gave Marta a high five. Tonya¡¯s stomach did a little flip, but she kept her expression neutral. Never let them see you sweat. All she had to do was pass this wretched summer course. That was the deal. Earn the credit to satisfy her parole and get her powers back. Nothing Marta could do would make Tonya mess that up. All the Pure families, including her adoptive parents, had rejected her. But with powers, she could still have something. However, there comes a time when deep breathing and all the meditation techniques she had practiced in prison couldn¡¯t hold back the wave of rejection. Their hostile faces and Marta¡¯s superior grin choked her up. Sometimes she would trade anything¡ªpowers, her school year, friends, even knowing Helen was her birth mother, to turn back the clock and live as she did before Halloween. September had been the happiest month of her life. Priya was her new best friend, and Drake had just started flirting. ¡°Slowpoke, aren¡¯t you coming?¡± Marta goaded from the front of the pack. Beside her, Arjun didn¡¯t object. After ambling throughout the class, Kirkdene suddenly sped up, long legs swinging. Tonya could never get past the mob of students ahead. The professor rushed on and on until the floor began slanting upward. As the air warmed, it carried the sweet scent of fresh cut grass and flowers. They emerged into a storage room filled with plants, sacks of fertilizer, and hoses. Through a door, they spilled into the huge greenhouse that dominated the City Hall Gardens. Surrounded by students, Kirkdene lectured them about Loon Lake¡¯s history and the founding Old Families. With a smile and wave to passing citizens visiting the greenhouse, he mentioned the private collection of Old Family documents in City Hall. Around her, Tonya felt the students shift from foot to foot or whisper to their neighbors, bored. Even Tonya knew about the concealed Old Family library and Loon Lake¡¯s City Council, composed of Old Family counselors sworn to carry out Mundane and magical business. If only the Mundanes knew their city was run on two levels: the ordinary, which was visible to them, and the magical, with meetings in a second council chamber hidden behind a door they could not see. When Tonya was growing up, her adopted mother, Barbara, was a dedicated Pure. Her father, Jim, grew up in a Mundane family with no knowledge of magic. Yet nothing Kirkdene said was news to Tonya. When would Kirkdene teach them something useful, like how to cast a spell? He wound up his lecture with homework readings from a grimoire Tonya had never heard of. ¡°Excuse me, professor, but where can I buy a grimoire?¡± A few students laughed. ¡°Every family has one.¡± ¡°Not mine.¡± ¡°If there is no tradition of magic in your family, start with an empty notebook and learn by observation.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t I borrow one from the library?¡± ¡°Are you asking if the City Librarian will entrust you with a centuries-old record of our magical heritage?¡± Marta stifled a laugh behind Kirkdene¡¯s back. It would have been nice if Arjun said something, but he just stood there, staring at Tonya as if seeing her for the first time. Kirkdene marched the class across manicured lawns and between flowerbeds, stopping in front of a dented pickup truck. A bumpy load lay hidden under a tarp in the back. ¡°I need a pair of volunteers.¡± Jobson stepped forward followed by Arjun. From behind, Tonya whispered to Arjun, ¡°Don¡¯t you want to know what it¡¯s for?¡± When Kirkdene glanced at his vehicle, the group shifted back, leaving her beside Arjun. ¡°Okay, Tonya, Arjun, pile in.¡± Kirkdene¡¯s smile deepened his wrinkles. Jobson¡¯s face flushed. ¡°What about me?¡± A light breeze dispersed a nasty whiff from under the tarp. ¡°Trust me, you¡¯re not missing much.¡± ? Seven 7 Arjun climbed into the cab beside Professor Kirkdene, taking half the seat. Tonya crammed in beside him on the window side. She had to lean into Arjun to close the door. He smiled. They were acquaintances in the Digital Ninjas, because he was Priya¡¯s friend. In the catacombs, he¡¯d stood by Marta and never once defended Tonya, but now he chatted animatedly as if they were BFFs. Buddy, make up your mind. Choking on rank odors from the flatbed, Tonya hit the window button and let the wind ruffle her hair. ¡°Almost there.¡± Kirkdene floored it. Good. Manure fumes and Arjun¡¯s mixed signals were torture. But she had no choice. This was her chance to win over Kirkdene. Once she showed him what a hard worker she was, he¡¯d have to relent and let her use her powers. Wouldn¡¯t he? They drove east to the limits of town and then sped north, slowed, then turned east again onto a faded two-lane highway. On either side, fields of young corn and pumpkin blossoms flew by, reminders of last Halloween. Despite the heat, Tonya shivered. ¡°Where are we going?¡± Arjun asked. ¡°I keep a farm near here. We have chickens, goats, and a donkey to scare the coyotes. I grow organic garlic and wildflowers for honey, which is where you come in. I need help to spread the honey.¡± He thumbed back at his cargo. ¡°If that¡¯s honey,¡± Tonya said, ¡°cows have black and yellow stripes.¡± ¡°And bees say moo.¡± Arjun laughed. How much longer until she could get away from that ¡°honey?¡± It felt like the stench was soaking into her clothes. They¡¯d smell it on her when she went back to the dorm. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Fifteen very long minutes later, they turned between twin maples onto a gravel laneway. Gravel crackled under the tires all the way to a red brick farmhouse with a shiny steel roof. Beside it stood a weathered gray barn that was missing several upright boards. They had branded the year 1810 over the gaping door. The bottom sheltered cows, and the second floor supported an unused hayloft. These days, harvesters rolled hay into wheels wrapped in white plastic, which were left on the fields like enormous cheeses. The moment the truck stopped, Tonya leaped out and took a deep breath of fresh air. Bad mistake. Extra fresh manure smell filled her nose and made her cough until her eyes watered. Beside Arjun, Kirkdene looked shorter than he had in the tunnels. From the flatbed, he snatched a pair of shovels. ¡°You see that mound of cow flaps around the feeding station?¡± Tonya wished she couldn¡¯t. A handful of cows stood ankle-deep in a pond of liquid manure. ¡°Yes.¡± Arjun winced. ¡°Shovel it into the flatbed, and then we¡¯ll spread it over the garlic field.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t make us do that.¡± Arjun protested. ¡°We¡¯re your students.¡± He answered with his eyes on Tonya. ¡°Participation is voluntary, but I have a lot of friends in this town.¡± Arjun gasped, then started to gag and cough. ¡°You expect me to do it by hand?¡± It would take Tonya a week. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You can both get extra credit for using magic.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯ll take my anklet off?¡± Relief surged through her. He¡¯d let her use her powers! ¡°Not a chance, jailbird.¡± Eight 8 Roberto accepted the glass Madre held out to him and polished it with a tea towel. One more concession to her grandiose plan. Didn¡¯t they already have enough money? He belonged with his friends in the caf¨¦s and shops of Miraflores or surfing at Punta Negra. At home, in Peru, he could surf every day, and nobody treated him like a waiter. He was used to a car and driver, posh nightclubs, and hanging with prep school friends. Loon Lake didn¡¯t have one Michelin-starred restaurant. Caramba! A man of his talents wasn¡¯t meant to serve at the pastry counter like one of Madre¡¯s minions. The Condor Bakery. You would think they could choose something more original, but that was Madre and Papi. They were not subtle. They fooled nobody with their humble act, sending the regular employees home. His mother had asked the Ashtons to tea, then fussed around as if Donna was the Queen of Spain. It was embarrassing. With a jingle of bells over the door, Donna Ashton strode in, followed by Marta and her brothers, Marvin and Stephen Jr. ¡°Nice paint job.¡± Donna nodded at a mural of condors flying over the Andes. ¡°Much better than the dusty Scottish tea towels that used to clutter up the place.¡± Papi smiled. ¡°Come in. Sit.¡± He pulled out a caf¨¦ chair that still had a plaid cushion left over from the previous owners. Cheap as porridge, his parents had snapped up the Scottish Bakery when the former owners retired to Glasgow. Flexing bulging muscles, Junior set two tables together. Roberto went to help. With a wrist flick, he applied a handloomed tablecloth decorated with stripes and geometric llamas. Once the Ashton family sat, Madre lifted her index finger at Roberto. ¡°Tea!¡± He didn¡¯t object. Madre knew best if you knew what was good for you. Like a good little waiter, he went behind the pastry counter to boil the kettle. His parents had kept the Scottish teapot collection to placate elderly Loon Lakers used to drinking afternoon tea. Madre switched out clotted cream and scones for empanadas and alfajores cookies filled with dulce de leche. The old dears whined about the changes but still turned up regularly. ¡°No tea for me. I need a milkshake.¡± Marta smirked. ¡°Sorry. How about iced tea?¡± Roberto asked. It was a bakery, not a burger joint. ¡°Whatever.¡± Let her try to annoy him. Madre¡¯s pastries, a special family recipe, would give him revenge. The Ashtons were to eat the pastries Madre put aside. Roberto smiled as he filled the kettle. Donna Ashton and her brothers could scheme all they liked, but they¡¯d never outwit Madre. He would never admit it to his surf buddies back in Lima, but Roberto enjoyed the ritual of heating the teapot and the scent of boiling water hitting fresh tea leaves. It was soothing¡ªwhen he wasn¡¯t forced to serve Marta. She was pretending not to recognize him. Little witch. Was she still freaked out by the way Waldock had taken over his body in October? Binging on pancakes with Lynette, driving over a bumpy field, lying beneath the Three-Century Ash to let the Entity absorb them, body and mind. He remembered snippets with big gaps in his memory. Nightmares had haunted him for weeks, but she should be over it. In fact, she didn¡¯t spare Roberto a second glance, despite his devastating good looks. Weirder still, she sat across the table from her oldest brother, her face animated, drinking in every word. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Roberto didn¡¯t understand it. Big brother Marvin wore a striped white dress shirt accessorized by a chewed pencil over one ear. What a nerd. Stephen Jr. had a boring brush cut, but his red Quicksilver shirt bulged with muscles as he strode to the pastry case. Stephen was tall enough to look down at Roberto as he blurted, ¡°Can I get a hot dog?¡± ¡°These have meat.¡± Roberto loaded up a platter with Madre¡¯s charmed empanadas. In his surfer shirt, Stephen Jr. looked like Roberto¡¯s social equal¡ªbut a hot dog? How cheap. And that disappointed little boy look when he didn¡¯t get one? His family might wield power in Loon Lake, but Junior was a loser. At the table, Donna and Marvin put their heads together, chatting with Madre. Before long, their eyes went glassy, and their mouths gaped. Too bad Marta had refused the special pastries. Typical girl. Probably worried about her weight. But even without spells, she would give in to Madre. People always did. He slid the platter of baked goods directly in front of Marta, and the enticing aromas jabbed at Roberto¡¯s stomach. Madre¡¯s recipes never lost their appeal, with or without magic. Donna¡¯s proud coiffe encircled her face like a black mane. Crumbs clung to the corner of her mouth, and she almost purred, ¡°It¡¯s nice to see newcomers settling in.¡± ¡°We have your beautiful little city to thank,¡± said Papi. ¡°There¡¯s something in the air.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not kidding,¡± said Junior. ¡°The previous owners left this bakery after a ghost moved into the back room.¡± ¡°Junior!¡± Marta exclaimed. ¡°Show respect.¡± Marvin waved his pencil at him. ¡°There¡¯s more here than ghosts.¡± Madre spread her hands on the table and tipped her head up, eyes closed, as she inhaled deeply. ¡°I could sense the power of this place all the way from Peru.¡± ¡°Is that right?¡± Donna beamed. ¡°And since last October, it¡¯s gotten stronger.¡± Marvin chewed his pencil. ¡°Which is why we invited you. It¡¯s good to know our neighbors, and since the unfortunate demise of Jack Waldock ¡± A cloud crossed Donna¡¯s face, but she kept her smile fixed on Madre who continued. ¡°We were wondering how we can help.¡± Marta twisted in her chair, probably dying to unleash her sarcasm, until Marvin narrowed his eyes at her. With a nail file, Donna smoothed her red talons. ¡°What do you propose?¡± ? Nine 9 It was past noon when Priya woke, slumped over the drawing board. Her head ached where it rested on sweat-damp glass, and it swam with last night¡¯s dreams. Behind closed eyelids, thunder crashed, and lightning illuminated a beast. Its enormous heart thundered as it swayed to its feet, extinct no more. This was a job for coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Priya hoped a hot shower would slough off the weird visions, but when she closed her eyes under the showerhead, the scaley monster wouldn¡¯t fade from her mind. Her eyes popped open, and she shivered under the spray like a wet cat. Mere stupidity. No reason to worry. It was just her imagination, no matter how real the dream felt. Sometimes being an artist wasn¡¯t as fun as it seemed. Two rounds of shampoo and a rinse with conditioner put the nightmares out of mind. Toweling off, she stood in front of her tiny dormitory closet. Black gothy goodness hung to the left. Jeans, paint-spattered smocks, and workout clothes hung to the right. Back home, a third section held traditional wear, but here the fanciest thing she owned was a pencil skirt and blouse for job interviews. The forecast was hot for June. She chose a short, black lace skirt and a flattering bias-cut top. You never knew who you might bump into on campus. After class, she¡¯d continue her summer job hunt. She had been searching since April and had dropped off a dozen resumes without a call back. It was a matter of pride. Her family was paying her tuition, but she had to buy extra materials for her creations. How could she show Papa receipts for her masterpiece when she was still figuring out what it was? This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Her dreams whispered that she¡¯d created a monster, but what made her shiver with delight was the sensation of commanding life and death. Amid thunder and lightning, she had risen akin to Victor Frankenstein, looming over the slab, animating her creature¡ªlike a god. That must be her dream¡¯s inspiration. She had studied Mary Shelley¡¯s Frankenstein for Women¡¯s Studies. And there were many parallels between herself and Victor. Her sculpting was a secret kept from her family. She toiled at night, bringing art to life that would shock and inspire. Parents and siblings scoffed at her aspirations, but she would show them. This was the sign that proved her vocation. It had to be. All this time, she thought she was toiling over a T. Rex, but dinosaurs belonged in little kid dreams. Her vision beast meant so much more. She would give it wings. ? Ten 10 Disgusting slop rolled off their shovels. At least the professor had provided rubber boots. Tonya stood ankle deep in stench and shoveled up liquid sewage, but it oozed off her shovel before she could walk it to the truck. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding.¡± Arjun watched her from the edge of the mire. Kirkdene didn¡¯t scold Arjun for standing idly. In fact, he joined him, observing Tonya¡¯s fruitless efforts. ¡°How¡¯s that working for ya?¡± The professor crossed his arms. The man was toying with her. At first, Tonya had worked to prove she was no sore loser and willing to learn, even from her enemies. But there was no winning him over. After the heat, the smell, and student laughter at her expense, Tonya had had it. She waded away from the mire, ready to leave. Kirkdene slipped into his own boots and motioned her to follow him into the barn. ¡°You can use magic, but there¡¯s always a cost. Most times, it¡¯s cheaper to pay for the electricity.¡± He hauled a pump into the middle of the manure puddle, spooking cows who headed for drier ground. ¡°There.¡± He switched on the pump, which spewed liquid manure through a ten-foot hose. ¡°I¡¯ll let the two of you figure out getting it onto the truck.¡± Without waiting for an answer, he went into the farmhouse. Arjun approached the wet end and toed it with his boots. ¡°Turn it off.¡± Tonya found the switch on the side of the pump and waited for Arjun to the thread the hose between the tarp and the tailgate. ¡°Ready?¡± Arjun backed away. ¡°Hold onto it. It¡¯s going to spray all over.¡± Arjun held up his hands. ¡°No way am I standing anywhere near that thing when it starts to spew.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be a baby.¡± Tonya shouldered him out of the way and grabbed the hose, aiming it at the center of the flatbed. ¡°Go turn it on.¡± He hesitated. It was the first time Tonya had seen anyone tiptoe in rubber boots, but Arjun finally reached the pump and switched it on. After that, it took some coaxing to get him to move the heavy pump from puddle to puddle, but he came through in the end. An hour later, Tonya was sweaty, dirty, and covered in muck. ¡°Finished.¡± Arjun was mud spattered, but mostly clean from the waist up. Without a word, Tonya raced him to the house where a length of hose hung next to the kitchen garden. Beating him to the faucet, Tonya turned on the water and adjusted the nozzle to high pressure. It felt great to let the cold spray clear the muck off her arms and legs. Arjun took off his boots, socks, shirt, pants ¡­ ¡°Gimme that.¡± Tonya wasn¡¯t ready to relinquish the hose. She turned it on Arjun, who held out muscled arms and braced against the icy flow, laughing. She had rinsed her manure off but still felt dirty. What she wouldn¡¯t give for fresh clothes and a bar of soap. ¡°Mine!¡± Arjun snatched the hose out of her hands and turned it on her, forcing her to turn her back to the chilly spray. When she¡¯d gotten clean a second time, Arjun carried his shirt but put on his pants to get back in the truck. # Tonya¡¯s hair was still damp when Kirkdene dropped Arjun in front of Mackenzie Hall. She waved goodbye, but he didn¡¯t look back. Really? After what they¡¯d suffered together, he couldn¡¯t spare her a goodbye? She would never understand why Priya called him a friend. As the truck crawled through campus, Tonya tucked her head behind her arm and crunched down in her seat, hoping not to be seen. ¡°Please, Professor, could you drop me at the Western Gate?¡± She dreaded running into any Mods without a proper shower. If Marta saw her bedraggled hair and wet clothes, she¡¯d guess what Tonya had been doing and tease her for weeks. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°I have to grade papers.¡± When the truck pulled up to the curb, Tonya bolted away from campus, vowing to never approach another cow. Her sprint slowed to a training pace, and by the time she passed through the Western Gate, she strolled. Arms wide to the air, Tonya let the piney breezes dry her clothes in the sun. Away from the farm, life force pulsed at her from every tree and critter. Under City Hall, and again in his truck, Kirkdene had been dampening her magical abilities. That had to be it. On their own, Tonya¡¯s powers reached out and sensed life from all directions. They yearned to tap life force from nature, but actively using her powers would trigger her ankle bracelet. For now, it was enough to sense that forbidden energy and promise herself that once her parole ended, she could use it again. Beside the highway, gravel crunched underfoot, and her shoes squelched with water. Wind batted damp white hair into her face on her way north to Helen¡¯s place. She wanted to tell her birth mother she¡¯d survived her first class with the Mods. Arjun was a jerk, but at least he remembered who she was. If only it could have been Drake. She couldn¡¯t afford to think about him. Walking along the roadside past charred tree trunks gave Tonya a pang. In the fight against a deadly, subterranean Entity, she had burned down the cemetery. Flames had spread to Helen¡¯s Herbal Healing Shop, demolishing her home above the store. Was it any wonder Tonya was an outcast? Everything she touched combusted. Her parents had divorced and sold their home while Tonya was recovering in Helen¡¯s trailer. Dad had moved to his new home in Toronto, but visited Tonya in jail and helped her move into her dorm room when she got out. Mom had taken an apartment on the fringes of Loon Lake City and spoke only to fellow Pures. She had to shun Tonya, or the Pures would cast her out. Most mothers would have chosen their daughter over their political affiliations, but Mom blocked Tonya¡¯s number and pretended she was dead. Maybe her adopted mother had never fully accepted her. When Mom found out Dad was visiting their daughter, she made him choose between Tonya and herself. That had backfired. Tonight, Dad would call for an update on today¡¯s magical training. On the weekend, she¡¯d take the bus to Toronto and visit him. She loved her parents, but it was a relief to walk alone beside the highway, away from the drama. The strong sunshine cheered her despite her proximity to the cemetery. Since the fire, its blackened tree stumps stabbed her with guilt. Helen should never have forgiven her, but she did. As she reached the wrought-iron fence, a little boy trailed after her, taunting in a whiny singsong: Tonya Turncoat went to jail For making Waldock very pale. They let her out for good behavior Forgetting how she killed her neighbor. ? How can one who burns our tree, And desecrates the cemetery, Harp upon her innocence? Tonya Turncoat makes no sense! ? Before he could start another verse, she turned on him. ¡°Go away!¡± Unafraid, he dodged and wove, staying just out of reach. ¡°Nah, nah! Can¡¯t catch me! Better stay out of the cemetery!¡± She gave chase. Felt stupid. Stopped. The child skipped away, laughing and singing louder than before. Tonya sighed. ¡°Who taught you that song?¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to know?¡± A modern bully would troll her online, not teach kids hurtful songs. Or rather, one peculiar kid. He wore shorts with leather shoes, a vest, and a jacket. His newsboy cap glowed with a misty aura. The little ghost loaded a slingshot, pulled back, and fired it at her. Too late to duck, she put up her hands to protect her forehead. His ammo passed through her fingers, but she didn¡¯t feel it. The ghost had shot a phantom stone. She found it on the grass behind her, glowing faintly, solid as a wisp of fog. ¡°Nice try, kid. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but runty ghosts will never hurt me.¡± His baby face crumpled as he faded away leaving her completely alone. All her friends had been magically spelled to forget her. Mods, Trads, Pures, and Mom had turned their backs. She yearned for the good times with Drake and Priya and the Digital Ninjas, but the City Council had barred her from seeing them forever. The prison anklet and her solitude were turning her hometown into a prison. It wasn¡¯t right, and she swore to make City Council give her another chance. ? 11 11 When Ashton Security took Tonya into custody, Helen was living in a rented trailer behind the burned remains of her store. She had paid contractors to haul away the wreckage and replaced it with a trimmed lawn and tidy flower beds. In the rush to start classes immediately after her release, Tonya hadn¡¯t yet met up with Helen. Set behind a freshly paved parking lot, the new Herbal Healing Shop drew Tonya¡¯s eye up three stories of mirrored glass. How could Helen have afforded such expensive renovations? Heaviness filled her stomach. Had Helen sold the store? Lately, a rash of for-sale signs speckled Loon Lake, but the shop was more than Helen¡¯s livelihood. Serving the community with her charms and cures¡ªeven when it broke the rules¡ªwas Helen¡¯s calling. Tonya couldn¡¯t imagine her in any other job. She rushed in the door where rows of shelves divided a bright, high-ceilinged space. ¡°Helen? Anyone here?¡± She strode across the front of the store, looking down each aisle for customers or staff. Empty. Everything looked too clean, modern, and antiseptic. Medicine smells from cough syrup-sweet to bitter and sour invaded her nose. Bottles of vitamins and supplements stood beside makeup displays. The white walls and packaged goods looked too clinical. Shortly after giving Tonya her first summer job, Helen had taught her to avoid electricity because it leached power out of herbal magic. They had used a manual treadle sewing machine to sew sachets for remedies and charms. It was sweaty work without air-conditioning, but laughter filled that log cabin long before Tonya discovered Helen was her birth mother. Sometimes remembering that summer filled her with nostalgia, but months in prison had given Tonya time to see things clearly. On her own, Helen could charm animals and influence people. Together, they could channel power, allowing Helen to cheat death and destroy Waldock but at the price of Tonya¡¯s health. Before that battle, Tonya would have done anything for Helen. But the florescent lights, junk food aisle, and rows of over-the-counter meds made her wonder. Her birth mother was the ultimate nature girl. Why build a commercial drugstore hostile to nature and magic? Overhead, something heavy dragged along the ceiling towards the back of the store. Following the sound, Tonya slipped behind a counter completely unlike the antique one in the old shop that used to hold weird-smelling preserves, unguents, and healing oils. A door on the back wall led to a narrow metal staircase. On the second floor, Tonya hauled open a fire door. Wow. Helen had replaced her modest 1940s-era apartment with one enormous living space. The entryway opened directly into a high-ceilinged room with a stone fireplace against the far wall. L-shaped leather couches divided out a living area in the center, with rugs and seating surrounding the hearth. To the right side of the couches stood a dining room table with a modern china cabinet and a sideboard. Underfoot, polished barn board harmonized with a rustic chandelier hung from the ceiling, which was ringed with bannisters overlooking the room from the top floor. To the left stood an open kitchen with marble counters, a generous island with cutting board, and cabinets in shades of oak and blue stain. Every antique pull on the drawers and cabinets was unique. If all this belonged to Helen, she had come into money. ¡°Anybody home?¡± No answer. So, what had made the scraping sound? Moving to the bottom of a wide wooden staircase, she shouted up to the third floor. ¡°Hello!¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Helen appeared with folded sheets in her hands. Dropping the laundry, she raced downstairs like a kid instead of a middle-aged lady with white hair like Tonya¡¯s. ¡°Tonya!¡± Helen flung her arms open. She stepped into Helen¡¯s embrace, but that touch released a flood of terrible memories. That hospital room in Toronto. Waldock moaning and shriveling away from Tonya¡¯s life-siphoning touch. It had saved Loon Lake, but Helen had used her. ¡°Nice place. Did insurance pay for it?¡± ¡°You look good.¡± ¡°I knew it! You charmed the insurance people, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°All that matters is we¡¯re alive, and you¡¯re finally free.¡± Tonya cleared her mind before she opened their telepathic link. It¡¯s good to see you. During Helen¡¯s visits to the cells under City Hall, bars had kept them apart and the Staff of Storms had prevented telepathy. When did class get out? ¡°Hours ago.¡± But Tonya didn¡¯t feel like explaining the detour to Kirkdene¡¯s farm. Do you want me to beat up Marta for you? It was their usual joke, since Marta was a high school bully, but when they laughed, it choked up Tonya. She had missed this. ¡°How did you know she¡¯s in my class?¡± ¡°People talk. Have you made any new friends?¡± When Tonya shook her head, she pushed. ¡°Try. You hate being alone.¡± Helen gave Tonya a searching look. ¡°What about your old friends?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m following the rules and staying away, but the minute my parole is over, I¡¯ll find Priya and introduce myself. I need my best friend back, even if she never remembers. And I can¡¯t live without Drake.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± ¡°We were in love.¡± ¡°If you awaken his memories, Ashton Security will erase his mind again. Each spell reinjures the brain, and Donna would enjoy hurting him to punish you.¡± Helen¡¯s cheeks were hollow, the lines on her face pronounced. The past few months had aged her. ¡°Someday¡± ¡°Never. The closer your relationship, the more danger of stirring Drake¡¯s memories.¡± ¡°But after I¡¯ve finished the magic course ¡­¡± ¡°Sorry. The Mundanes can never know.¡± Helen wouldn¡¯t lie about that, which meant the only way to get back Priya and Drake was to convince the City Council to hold another tribunal. How could she, a teen without magical training or connections, make them listen? It seemed impossible, but if there was a way, she had to find it. ? 12 12 Tonya was leaving when Donna Ashton led her elder brothers, Marvin and Stephen Jr., up the central aisle of the store with Tonya¡¯s parole officer and former jail guard, Miranda, trailing behind. They all wore Ashton Security gray, except for Donna in her black skirt suit and red blouse. Tonya telepathically alerted Helen on the third floor. The Ashtons are here. Shouldn¡¯t your wards have kept them out? What wards? Using magic would give them ammunition against me. ¡°Bring us Helen Lennox.¡± Donna grinned, patting her back-combed mane with ruby-tipped fingers. ¡°Why?¡± Tonya stalled to let Helen escape. ¡°She¡¯s a wanted criminal by order of City Council.¡± ¡°Why now?¡± The investigation concluded that Tonya had accidentally destroyed Waldock with her uncontrolled powers. ¡°We released you because Helen confessed to murdering Jack Waldock.¡± ¡°She¡¯s innocent!¡± Tonya blurted. ¡°Is she?¡± Miranda stepped so close Tonya could see the jailor¡¯s freckles. ¡°Be careful what you say. An eyewitness says you murdered Waldock together.¡± ¡°No.¡± Tonya kept her voice calm. ¡°My friends vouched for her at the hearing.¡± But that was before Ashton Security wiped their memories. ¡°Helen settled a revenant, and that¡¯s not murder.¡± ¡°According to what witness?¡± Donna asked. The only one who hadn¡¯t suffered a memory wipe. ¡°Roberto Alvarez.¡± ¡°Helen tried to charm him.¡± Donna smirked. ¡°But he came to his senses, and now the good people of Loon Lake are going to come to theirs. It¡¯s time to sweep out the corruption and reform Loon Lake.¡± Tonya trembled, fists clenched at her sides. This wasn¡¯t about clearing out shady politicians. Her whole life, the truce between Pures and Trads had prevented Old Families from using magic. It protected the Mundanes and kept the Mods in check, which they hated. Before they took charge of security, the Ashton family had been poor and powerless, but not anymore. Tonya guessed they had enough clout to make the City Council prosecute Helen for using magic, no matter if it had saved Loon Lake. Old Loon Lake had stamped out open magic use a hundred years prior. The long-standing tradition got reinforced in the 1990s when Jack Waldock and his pal, Len, intimidated citizens. If businesses and farms refused to pay their gang protection money, flames razed their assets. Loon Lakers knew the fires were arson, but the Mundane fire marshal couldn¡¯t find proof. Waldock¡¯s gang paid frightening visits to witnesses who suddenly refused to testify. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. It was a terrible time, and a business opportunity. Stephen Ashton Sr. saw that Mundane law enforcement was powerless against magic. He offered private security to the Old Families who could scarcely refuse. Peaceful times returned, while the Ashtons grew fat off the council coffers. In his final years, Stephen Sr. scarcely left the family compound, but Donna and her brothers expanded the business and built jail cells under City Hall. Junior Ashton puffed out a mountainous chest, his tiny head perched like a pebble. ¡°Let¡¯s lock them both up.¡± Marvin deflated his brother with a look. As tall as Junior, he was slimmer and softer spoken. ¡°Logically, you were guilty until Helen confessed. Either she coerced you into helping her murder Waldock.¡± ¡°Or you did it together.¡± Donna¡¯s smile reminded Tonya of Marta. Helen came downstairs, her head held high. ¡°Tonya did nothing.¡± ¡°Council should strip their powers and banish them both.¡± Marvin took up position beside Helen as he and Junior marched her to the front of the store where Donna and Miranda waited. Tonya stood in their path until Miranda whispered, ¡°Don¡¯t. If you resist, they can charge you, too.¡± ¡°I have to do something.¡± ¡°Breaking your parole won¡¯t help.¡± ¡°Hands behind your back and turn around.¡± Junior looked to Marvin. ¡°Good job, bro. Put on the handcuffs.¡± ¡°You should be giving Helen a medal.¡± Tonya wanted them to know she knew. ¡°She saved our city even though Waldock was killing her with cancer.¡± ¡°Sounds like a motive.¡± Donna tapped on her phone. What should I do? Tonya asked telepathically. Helen¡¯s interior voice was calm. Let them take me, then tell the witch¡¯s advocate. My spare keys are in the drawer under the cash register. But if they put you in a cell, Donna can use the Staff of Storms to steal your powers ! Helen¡¯s voice in Tonya¡¯s head sounded deadly calm. Tell the witch¡¯s advocate to see Mayor Thornton. He opposed jailing you and wants to stop the Ashtons from controlling Loon Lake. ? 13 13 Tonya drove Helen¡¯s dark green Honda Civic east along Lakeshore Drive to the strip of parkland across the southern end of the city. Past campus, the lake narrowed at the eastern end of town, allowing Tonya to see the far shore. Elizabeth Carke, witch¡¯s advocate, lived in a big waterfront house beside the park. Leaving her car in the long driveway between houses, Tonya knocked at the side door, turning to appreciate the lake view while she waited. No answer. The last time she¡¯d spoken to Carke had been at her trial. For Helen¡¯s sake, Tonya hoped the advocate would do better this time. Tonya knocked louder. Twice. Eventually, Carke answered the door, her blonde hair tucked under a paint-stained cap. ¡°Do you have a minute?¡± ¡°A quick one.¡± Carke led Tonya inside, stooping to grab an empty liquor box on her way to the kitchen. She set it on the table. ¡°What do you need?¡± ¡°Ashton Security arrested Helen.¡± ¡°I warned her this would happen if she testified you were innocent.¡± ¡°They¡¯re charging her with murder.¡± ¡°Mayor Thornton will give both sides a fair hearing.¡± Carke took a stack of dishes from the cupboard, wrapped one in newspaper, and set it into the box. ¡°There shouldn¡¯t be a hearing. Waldock was already dead when Helen forced him to materialize.¡± ¡°She used death magic in a public hospital.¡± ¡°How do you plan to defend her?¡± A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Folks are afraid of Helen, and the Mods are out for blood.¡± ¡°She¡¯s not a murderer.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Carke bundled another dish in newspaper. ¡°If we prove she didn¡¯t kill Waldock, they¡¯d have to let her go, right?¡± Carke put the dish in the box. ¡°Public magic use is a misdemeanor, but Helen has enemies.¡± She picked up a stack of pink plastic dishes and shoved them into the box. It was clear the advocate was fleeing the fight. ¡°Helen told me Betty could vouch for her. Who¡¯s Betty?¡± ¡°An extreme recluse. Lives on Grand Island. As teens, Helen says she had an affair with Waldock. They used to disappear for weeks. Poof, gone.¡± She mimed exploding fingers. ¡°Magically?¡± ¡°The last time they went missing, Waldock wouldn¡¯t talk about it. He went back to hanging out with Len as if nothing happened.¡± ¡°So?¡± ¡°Betty never left the island.¡± ¡°They killed her?¡± ¡°No, she became a squatter.¡± Carke opened a cabinet and grabbed dishes willy-nilly, layering them into a box with newsprint. ¡°When Helen met him, they¡¯d just broken up.¡± ¡°Why would Betty stay on the island?¡± Carke bit her knuckle, glancing sidelong at Tonya. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Her testimony would have forced them to drop the charges.¡± ¡°She won¡¯t talk to me.¡± Carke edged away, but Tonya moved with her. ¡°Convince Mayor Thornton. He can sway City Council and get Helen released.¡± ¡°Um, I think you should watch this.¡± Carke pulled a phone out of her pocket and opened the Old Family phone app.