“Feel calm,” Hecate, or whatever her name was, said, “we’re going to a non-magical site.”
“And you’re just taking me to a non-magical site when I missed the sorting ceremony?” I asked angrily, “and how does that make me calm?”
I resisted the urge to jump off the car since we were driving sixty miles per hour or more. “Taking?” The girl asked innocently, “I’m not taking, Emma. I’m abducting.”
I resist the urge to punch her in the nose and smack her head with some of the magic she gave me, and jump off the car. “You know your business,” I groaned, “but nobody takes their hostage in a car that drives sixty miles per hour!”
“Calm, Emma,” the girl said calmly. I want to smack her head against the steering wheel this time because I’m being absolutely calm, given such circumstances, also partly because nobody calls me Emma without punishment, except friends and parents. And being a temporary friend to me, I don’t think that counts as my list of “friends”.
“Allison, wherever you’re taking me to, you’d better watch your head after I get my hands loose,” I gritted my teeth and looked down at my hands bounded up by the Restonren magic.
“Don’t worry, you won’t,” a voice came from the backseats, and I saw Percy from the back view mirror. Now we’re on a first-name basis again. If I knew Percy’s last name, I could have thought a few verbal attacks for him. I flexed my arm and looked at the road in front of us, realizing we have already arrived at—America, California!
Allison smiled smugly. “California. I knew I could do it.”
“Do what?” I asked, curious.
“I followed some magic train tracks. I knew it was magical, and then went back to your Arenyal Academy. There was a huge special spell placed in there so no mortals could be in there. ‘The History of Sorcerers’, if you’re curious. So, I just turned and drove past the special spell line, thinking of California, and then we popped on the boundaries of California. Simple trick. I used it to travel to many places before. And also, since Percy, you and me are all magical, the spell didn’t keep us out.”
“Wait, wait. You mean that we’ve got close to Arenyal and you didn’t let me off to continue my feast?”
“You said it had already started. Also, I need people accomplished in magic, like you.”
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I wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or just a criteria Allison added to her argument. Anyway, that meant we were already at California, and there was not point turning back. And considered I still had my hands tied, it didn’t really matter.
Percy grabbed me out of the car while Allison glanced at a tattered house in front of us. Just as I was wondering why Allison was taking me far away to this place, Percy freed my hands with a cut of a sword he just pulled out.
“Good sword,” I commented.
“The best. Made by the Arenyal principal Katherine Blottse herself. Dipped in forty-three different kinds of magic. It was given to me as a gift.” Percy answered.
“A gift?” I muttered, but didn’t have the courage to ask Percy exactly why the principal would send him a gift, but looking at Percy’s expression, I decided it would be safer not to ask him. I followed Allison in the house, preparing a strike with my magic. But thinking about the wicked sword Percy just showed to me, I decided it was better not to take revenge so impatiently. Wait, I thought, and the time will come.
“I know there’s something—or someone ingenious here,” Allison said to herself and was surprised to find out an old lady looking at her in the eyes, and her expression turned to a smug smile. “I knew it.”
“Dear child,” the old woman began in a hollow voice, “I speak of the truth, I embrace the past and I look forward. Do you want to listen to my words, not misty but not easily understood, not sincere but not superficial? Do you want to, child?”
“Yes,” Allison breathed, “I knew it was me. I knew it must be about me. You’ve waited so long. But I’m here.”
“Let us talk upstairs alone, shall we, child?” The old woman smiled creepily.
“Shakespearean English,” I muttered as Allison nodded eagerly and the old woman began climbing the stairs very slowly. Percy grabbed Allison to his side and muttered, “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Hecate. My instincts tell me it’s a trap.”
“Percy Billow,” the old woman said, “I said talk with this young lady alone. If you please stay here with Miss Crisla.”
Allison muttered “it’s okay” and hurried after the old woman. I felt cold. My instincts tell me it’s a trap, too. For one, the old woman knows our names without us telling her. Emma Crisla. Hecate Allison. Percy Billow. For two, she speaks the kind of really, really old English without any abbreviates. For three, I’m starting to list this old woman in my ‘really, really creepy’ list.
I stared at Percy. His last name is Billow. Now we’re on a last name basis. Oh gods, if I weren’t so busy thinking about the old woman, I would have already thought of a few hundred verbal attacks on him.
“You must be dumbstruck after you find out that you parents gave you the name two characters have in two fantasy novels, all well known,” I smirked.
“Oh,” his expression was unreadable, “I don’t care.”
“I would care. And I cared. I don’t like this common name at all. In the whole grade there are three Emmas.” I grumbled.
“My grade had five Percys. And I still don’t care,” he shrugged.
I stared at him and silently listed the Percys who graduated this year. Could it possibly be--?
“You’re not the Percy Billow who got five presents from the principal for a year?”
“Oh gods,” he grumbled, “now everyone knows. Even a younger female schoolmate knows about that thing.”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m trying to emphasize,” I broke into an uncontrollable smile, even though I don’t know why I’m smiling, “I’m just trying to figure out which Percy you are. No offense.”
And then, our dialogue was cut down by a scream upstairs. I shared a look with Billow, and we both ran upstairs.
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- Find answers to these questions in the continuing chapters!