I’m so excited to announce that Visions of the Light is nearly ready for publishing! I’ve got a few administrative tasks to complete before I’m ready to release it, but it will be soon!

I’ll keep you updated, but I thought it would be fun to share the first three chapters with you here. These are mostly through edits, so they should be pretty much ready for prime time. (if you do see any issues and want to help out, please email me)

Prologue

(7 days after Amaris entered the Magicorium—Elendris Time, at least)

Araxes

The Chamber of the Heart

Constance Edevane sacrificed much for this moment. Perhaps too much. Her breath heaved in ragged gasps, sweat dripping from her hairline. So unlike her. The trek through Araxes could have been much more difficult, but she was here now.

The Relic glittered under a crystal dome so delicate one might think a single breath would shatter it. But she knew better. With each passing century, the magic around the Heart of Siraffis strengthened, while the hope of a true Heir faded. If she failed to claim the Relic, the Ancient One would rise, and even now his influence within Elendris was already growing stronger.

A twinge of uncertainty hit her again. Did she make the right choice coming here? If she could save Amaris, any oblation would be worth it.

The hag waited behind her left shoulder, hovering as if to snatch the prize right out of her hands. Little did Morravyn know that Constance had come prepared for one such as her, a betrayer to the core.

Even now, Leila assembled her army, but Morravyn would betray her, too. It was in her nature. The reason she’d faced expulsion from Elendris in the first place.

Looking at her now, at the horrible transformation from the lovely young witch to the withered hag, made the Lunam Supreme of Elendris recoil, although she’d been the one to sentence the witch to walk the Liminal Ring. The fact that she’d ended up inside Araxes came as no surprise.

“What’s the holdup?” the hag whispered, her putrid breath tickling Constance’s ear.

She didn’t bother turning her head to reply as she studied the wards and sigils encasing the Relic. Her breath hitched, but she kept herself from showing the growing sense of unease inside her. “If you don’t mind, I could use some silence? I’m thinking…”

Urgency pumped the hag’s words. “It’s right there. Can’t you grab it?”

Disdain leaked into her reply. “If you’d like to unleash the guardian, then certainly.”

“What about the Guardian?”

The creature’s mouth twisted into a smile that resembled a sneer a little too much. “Your blood should appease the stone and the beast within.”

That was the trouble. Something didn’t feel right, and it should. “You said nothing of offering blood.”

“You failed to ask. If you desire the artifact, you must present your lineage. If it’s correct, you’ll be able to lift the casing and take your prize. None will be able to remove it once you possess the Heart.”

The correct blood… that was the true concern. But why? She held more blood of the Silver Moon than even Amaris did. She shook herself internally, not allowing her mind to spiral again.

Constance heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You’ve been in Araxes what, two decades and you have not been able to obtain it? Now you expect me to claim it in two minutes.”

Morravyn stiffened, pausing long enough for Constance to twist her neck and find the hag in a state of pure shock. Her mouth hung open, her teeth surprisingly white, given the gray, wrinkled skin. Her transformation from witch to hag was nearly complete, but she’d kept some of Elendris within her.

Morravyn lowered her voice in utter horror. “You are mistaken. I arrived less than seven months ago.”

Constance nearly leaped out of her skin. Seven months? The hag couldn’t be counting time the same way. There couldn’t be such a discrepancy between realms. Moon Mother would never have allowed a misalignment to this degree.

No. It simply couldn’t be true. Still, something inside her whispered it was true, and she was in trouble.

Constance returned to her task, ignoring the trembling in her hands and knees that wanted to take hold of her, making her eager to flee. She hardened her resolve. “Then we have no time to waste. You will cease your questions, or I will remove you from this chamber.”

A huff brushed her neck, but she ignored it. After all, without the hag’s help, Constance might have never found her way to the Fortress. And she’d done it with relative ease after Stephan opened the portal right where she’d needed him to. Leaving Araxes wouldn’t be so smooth.

How much time had passed? How long had she been gone? Hours? Days? Weeks?

A shiver wanted to distract her, but she suppressed it, refusing to believe she’d lose everything simply because she couldn’t let the visions go. She’d never trusted them entirely. Not like Megan did.

Constance relied on discipline. Rigor. Power earned through understanding, not whim. But the dreams had come, urgent and vivid. Night after night, she’d witnessed Amaris screaming as the Mist devoured her or creatures claimed her, the Heart of Siraffis in the hands of lunatics or monsters, the Guardian of Sira’tahl slain and rotting in the blood-black soil of Araxes. Her enemies invading the home she loved.

And in every vision, Constance had been absent. She watched helplessly as her granddaughter failed. Repeatedly. And she had to act.

Her seers verified the details as many times as she’d asked, until the truth had sunk into her chest like a nail: if Amaris went to Araxes, she would die. It didn’t matter if they waited the years it would take for her Heir to be ready to face the difficult tasks ahead of her. However, if Constance took her place, she might still save her. There may be a chance of not only Amaris’s survival but of them conquering the Ancient One and saving the Realms at last.

That had been the lie. Amaris might not have been able to gain the Heart without Constance, but the opposite might also be true.

Now, standing at the Altar of the Heart, she finally saw it for what it was.

A trap. Thank Moon Mother, she left before her daughter could decide to come with her. As it was, she worried Megan would follow her into this hell anyway.

There was nothing for it. She needed to get the Relic and return home, or all of her sacrifices would be for nothing. It didn’t matter if she came back to someone else in power, as long as she came back alive and with the Heart of Siraffis.

Saying a silent prayer, hoping with all her soul that she was wrong, she reached forward, tentatively at first, more forcefully later. The energy surrounding the case zinged against her skin, rejecting her. Squaring her shoulders, she tried again. But no amount of force would release the wards.

A horrible thought hit her. Her efforts could release the guardian. With great care, she withdrew her fingers, even though her skin burned. Despite the evidence otherwise, she lacked the right bloodline to unlock the Relic.

To attempt to take it now would do nothing more than wake the monster protecting it and perhaps cost her her life. She refused to become another casualty of Araxes or to destroy the guardian her progenitors sacrificed so much to create.

She whirled, rage rushing through her veins, igniting every fighting instinct she owned. “Did you know?”

The hag’s black lids peeled back to reveal white with only a spot of black. Her pupils dilated as she stepped to the side, studying the altar. Shaking her head, she uttered in disbelief, “You have the heritage. This is not right.”

“You’re telling me.”

When Morravyn inched her hand near the dome, Constance snatched her wrist before the fool could wake the beast. “Careful.”

The hag’s gaze snapped to the door behind them, then back. She narrowed those horrible eyes, her lips shaking as she spoke. “We could overcome the guardian together, take the amulet, and flee. If you promise me reentry into Elendris, I will acquire the Heart for you.”

Constance’s scoff reverberated through the chamber, and Morravyn recoiled. With effort, the Lunam Supreme of Elendris softened her tone. “The two of us combined are not powerful enough to overcome the wards, let alone the sigils that would keep us trapped even if we took it. I wish we could, but I doubt a living soul is…”

As her voice trailed away, Morravyn’s jaw clenched as she studied Constance for a long moment. She expected the hag to argue, to make her case. But all she did was stare.

Until, in a blur of movement, she sped to the enormous doors and shoved a key into the lock. The only thing keeping them both in and safe.

“What are you doing, you fool?”

Before Constance could protest further, Morravyn swiveled her neck until their gazes locked. A deep sneer settled in the scarred, gray face. “If you did not intend to obtain the Relic, you should not have come here. You’re leaving me with no choice.”

“Wait!” called Constance, flinging her arm toward the barrier, trying to bind it closed, but it was too late.

With a great cry, the hag twisted the key, then yanked the handle. Pure dread infiltrated Constance, seizing her mind, making her pause when she should have acted.

“Ah, Lunam Supreme,” said a familiar voice from the corridor as a blast of magic hit Constance in the gut.

It might as well have been a blow. She bent, clutching her middle before making herself straighten, before forcing herself to face her attacker, gathering her strength for a battle she couldn’t win. Not here. Not now. Not alone.

Her sworn enemy strode into the chamber, lowering a purple cloak with delicate silver embroidery from her flame-red hair to reveal a once beautiful face hardened into something far more dangerous than beautiful. Two ogres flanked her, their sparse-tooth grins swallowing their tiny noses.

“Such a pity for Amaris to lose another grandmother so quickly after the first.” Leila tilted her head, tsking. “But sacrifices must be made if we are to save Elendris.”

Her piercing gaze stuck Constance to the spot, and in that gaze, she saw not only her doom but perhaps the annihilation of her entire race. And worst of all, she saw the downfall of her House and the ultimate death of her granddaughter. A pang of sorrow squeezed her heart. She only hoped that Amaris was stronger than she realized. There had to be a reason her Heir lived, and the others died. There just had to be.

She’d misjudged the situation, and she would pay the price. But Amaris might conquer where Constance had failed. Either way, she would fight until she exhausted every last drop of her power. She lifted herself, straightening her spine, and pulled her magic close.

Leila’s voice turned as wicked as her heart. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid you’re needed next.”

1. It’s Tough to Let Go

Something broke inside the Magicorium the moment the music stopped.

No one said it out loud. They didn’t need to. We all felt the shift, from light and harmony into something else entirely. I tried to pretend it hadn’t gotten to me, that I could stand here and carry on as if nothing had happened.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t stop waiting for another blow.

Gran was gone, and yet her letter rested in my hand, impossible and undeniable. My whole body clenched as I stared at the door where Magistrate Fitch had rushed the strange girl out, leaving the air abuzz with murmurs. I didn’t pay attention to a single whisper simply because I couldn’t look away.

My mind and body crackled with unexplainable energy. Maybe it was a residue of whatever force dumped Pru here in our time, or maybe it was simply the shock of it all.

Nicole snatched the parchment from my hand and devoured it in twenty seconds flat. Her gaze snapped to the doorway, then back to my face. She read me as easily as she had the letter and leaned closer.

“It’s going to be okay. Ignore them.”

Cal took the letter and tucked it away in a pocket inside the cobalt lining of his dark jacket. He inched nearer, enough to bring my focus completely to him. When I shot him a warning look, he pulled his fingers back moments before they landed on my forearm.

Hurt flashed in his tropical gaze before he busied himself with grabbing our bags. “Come on. We’ll be lucky to get the leftovers if we don’t hurry.”

Lunch. Food. It was all he seemed to think about. That or harassing me about getting new quarters where he’d have a space of his own.

Every single blasted night since coming here, he camped out in the hallway on the left side of my door. And there was nothing I could do about it.

Nicole’s big caramel eyes goggled. “How can you think about eating at a time like this?”

He ran his fingers through his slicked-back sandy hair, then stiffened when his gaze connected with hers. His tone matched his glare. “I’m in charge of making certain Amaris maintains her strength and thrives here inside the Magicorium. My entire job is to safeguard her. And she wouldn’t eat most days if it weren’t for me. So lay off.”

Nicole scrunched up one side of her mouth, glaring. “You’re not the only one who cares about her.”

“Yeah, but I could be imprisoned or worse if something bad happened to her. You? Not so much. And by the way, I need to keep up my strength just in case someone here decides to do something stupid.”

“We don’t have Faction members here, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“How would you know?”

“I could eat,” I said just to get the two of them to stop arguing.

It had been like this for going on a week, and I couldn’t take it anymore. It didn’t matter if my appetite took a nosedive when my grandmother replaced Oliver with Cal as my Vaelor. It also didn’t matter that I’d yet to get a single night of decent sleep since.

Cal wasn’t the only one pacing the wee hours away. The dark shadows under his eyes grew more purple by the day. He looked like he’d been punched, and I doubted I looked much better.

I was going to have to do something about our sleeping arrangements, but our dorm was completely full. If I relented, I’d be put somewhere I didn’t belong, and I wanted to be part of everything here.

For once in my life, I wanted to be normal. Well, as normal as an Heir to the House of the Silver Moon could be.

Staying busy was the only way to stave off thoughts of Oliver. I kept expecting to see him around the corner, donning his signature smirk. But Cal insisted his competition hadn’t made it to school before it lifted off. Sessions lasted eight months of each year, and no one came or went once the doors closed. Period.

Unlike spaceships in human movies, there was no way to beam up or down or whatever. We were stuck inside this sphere, like it or not.

And I was still undecided on that front. Parts were pleasant for sure. Talismans and Charms class took up three hours of my nine-hour days. It was my longest class, and I was grateful.

My two other magistrates were okay, but no one compared to Fitch. She was just one of those people who seemed like family from the first moment I spoke to her. And she was one of the only reasons I wasn’t losing my mind.

I missed Oliver as much as Gran on some days, and it scared me.

After our second class in Talismans and Charms, Fitch asked me to teach her the way Gran taught me. So far, it was the highlight of my day, or night, as it were. That and spending lunch with my friends.

Although Nicole and I shared most classes, Lexie had a completely different schedule. Shalisa was in our Realms and Relics class, but she was advanced enough to have skipped Creatures and Cults and Talismans and Charms.

She was the kind of girl everyone loved and wanted to be like: kind, energetic, and downright magnetic. In fact, I was surprised she didn’t hail from the House of the Magnetic Moon, as was demonstrated even now.

When we entered the wood-clad cavern that was the great hall, a good number of students still waited in line to get their grub. Not Shalisa. She already had a gathering and was making gestures and faces. I smiled even though I had no idea what the story was about. It wouldn’t matter if she were giving a weather report. Shalisa Grant simply shone, and everyone wanted a part of her glow.

“Are you done gawking?” asked Cal in the grumpiest tone I’d heard from him yet.

“Why don’t you go get some grub? I’m going to say hi to my friends.”

He clasped my shoulders and marched me to the back of the line. “Nothing doing, Edevane. You’re going to eat before you share in any gossip.”

“I don’t gossip,” I threw over my shoulder, since he still had me in his clutches.

“Yeah, and I don’t have a headache the size of Silver Moon Bay.”

When I twisted my neck, he finally released me. “Maybe you should have gone with Fitch to the healer, too.”

“I’ll be fine after I eat.”

Joey Sanchez circled us, mischief growing in his features. “Already moving on, I see.”

“What?” Cal and I both said in unison.

His grin turned sly. “You two look like a couple.”

“Shut up, Sanchez,” said Cal, rubbing his left shoulder and scowling.

I made a note to myself: Do not let Cal get hungry.

We finally escaped the line with loaded trays and found an empty stretch of table near one of the tall windows. Sunlight spilled through the enchanted glass in a soft, pearly wash, catching dust motes and turning them into dancing sparkles.

I slid onto the bench beside Nicole and set my tray down, suddenly aware of just how hollow I felt. Hunger existed, apparently. It simply had not bothered me in a while.

Cal sat across from me, muscles rigid, eyes still scanning the hall as if someone might leap out, wielding a bread roll with ill intent. He only relaxed once I took my first bite. Barely.

“That’s better,” he muttered, spearing something green and leafy that looked far too healthy to be enjoyable.

Nicole leaned in close, lowering her voice even though half the hall was already buzzing. “All right. Tell me everything you felt when she fell.”

I paused mid-chew. “Do you mean Pru?”

“That’s her name?”

Shalisa dropped into the seat across from Nicole, her grin bright enough to rival the light streaming in. “Yep. Prudence Dahlman, the girl who literally dropped on Magistrate Fitch’s class like a cut chandelier.”

“I did not say dropped,” Nicole said primly. “She landed on her feet. Mostly.”

“You apparently saw something different from what I did,” I said around another bite of grilled chicken.

Shalisa clapped her hands once, delighted. “Mostly might be a tad… generous, from what I’ve heard.”

I swallowed and dabbed my mouth, buying myself a second to think. The truth was, the moment when Pru hit the floor etched itself into me with uncomfortable clarity. The way the air shifted, the faint pressure behind my eyes, the strange sense of déjà vu that came and went before I could grasp it.

Shaking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “The noise the Magicorium let out was the worst part of the whole thing. It made me want to vanish or cease existing. When it stopped, the moment before she entered our time, it felt…” I said slowly, trying to grasp the right word and failing. “Strange. Not bad, exactly. Just… I have no words to explain.”

Cal’s gaze snapped to me. “Did you have some kind of connection to her?”

“Connection?” I asked, trying to make sense of the energy that locked onto me and hadn’t let go.

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Don’t interrogate her. This isn’t a tribunal.”

Cal leveled a stare. “Did you feel connected to the girl?”

“Her name is Pru,” said Nicole in a clipped tone, “and no, not really.”

“Exactly. I’d venture to guess that no other student experienced what Amaris did.”

My stomach tightened. “Do you think it’s because of the note from Gran? That it might have brought her to me somehow?”

“Whoa, you’re talking about time portals?” Shalisa said lightly, then froze. “My Space and Time class won’t even hit that subject for two months.”

We all looked at her.

“What?” She lifted her fork as if it might shield her. “I have a very engaged mother. We completed Hearth magic when I was eight.”

Since no one else did, I asked, “What’s a time portal?”

Shalisa shrugged one shoulder and shifted on the chair, crossing her legs and leaning back. “Exactly like what it sounds, though it’s all theoretical at this point. Some ancient stories mention them, but we haven’t seen one in… well, forever.” She giggled, and so did a few people at the table next to us. She didn’t seem to notice. “Essentially, a pinprick in time opens and sucks a person through. The unfortunate soul gets deposited in a different time and possibly a different location. It just depends on the specifics.”

Nicole narrowed her eyes. “You just suggested Pru hurtled through time and space and landed here when no one should be able to portal in or out of the Magicorium.”

“She happened to be inside the Magicorium when the transport happened, so I don’t think any rules were broken. But supposed to be is the key concept here,” Shalisa flicked her wrist. “You’d be surprised how many times things happen that shouldn’t within Elendris, both inside and outside of the Magicorium, including people falling through the ceiling during Talismans and Charms class. Weirder things have transpired.”

I couldn’t help it. A laugh slipped out of me, soft but real, and some of the tension eased from my chest. “She looked just as shocked as we were. I’ll never forget how Fitch reacted. It was priceless.”

I mimicked her goggling expression, and everyone laughed.

“Did you see Pru’s shoes?” Nicole asked. “Those haven’t been in style in Elendris, ever.”

Cal snorted. “No one cares about her fashion sense. She fell through the ceiling, Nicole. How did you even notice what she was wearing?”

I had. My back stiffened as I turned to my Vaelor. “You’re implying Nicole is shallow because she paid better attention than you.”

“I didn’t say she was shallow. I was merely… surprised that’s what she took away from the experience.”

“She didn’t scream, right?” Shalisa asked, and when I nodded, she added, “That’s what gets me. If I fell through a ceiling, I would scream. A lot. Possibly the entire way down. Maybe even after I landed. Why didn’t she?”

“I’d pass out,” said Nicole. “Immediately. No dignity whatsoever.”

I poked at my food, my appetite fading again as memory nudged at me. “She sort of looked… relieved.”

Four sets of eyes fixed on me.

“Relieved?” Nicole echoed.

“After she handed me the letter. Just for a second,” I said. “Like she’d finally arrived where she was meant to.”

Cal leaned back, crossing his arms. “Comforting.”

“She wasn’t trying to make you feel better, Cal,” Shalisa said gently as if she spoke to a three-year-old. “The Magicorium isn’t about comfort. It’s about truth and how to find it. Or haven’t you noticed?”

“Dun, dun, dun…” This from Joey, who scooted his chair closer to Nicole and stole a bite of her pizza.

She only smirked at him, shaking her head. I watched them for a moment before I had to look away. The two of them seemed to be getting closer.

If Oliver were here, would we be doing similar things? A pang hit my chest, making me want to rub my sternum.

Nicole waved a hand as if brushing away the topic. “Okay, enough ominous talk. Let’s discuss the real mystery. Why was Magistrate Fitch smiling?”

That earned a chorus of agreement. Except, I’d missed that reaction. Maybe I was too focused on my own, but I would have thought I would remember seeing someone grin after such an event.

“She absolutely was,” Joey said. “I saw it. Right before she went full authority voice and told us all to get back to work, even though we were watching her strike your charm, Amaris. I wish we had been able to hear the entire melody or whatever it’s called. Hey, do you think that had something to do with the time portal that dumped… what was that girl’s name again?”

“Pru,” Nicole and I said in unison.

“Jinx,” I said, making Nicole frown. I sometimes forgot that she didn’t grow up in the human realm like I did.

“Most people would have jumped back or shrieked,” Nicole continued and grinned when Joey let out a loud one. She cuffed his arm. “Instead, she looked like someone had just handed her a prize she’d been expecting.”

Cal stabbed another leaf but eyed my chicken. “Magistrates love solving puzzles.”

“Fitch must enjoy chaos,” I murmured before I could stop myself.

They all laughed, but something about it felt true in a way I couldn’t articulate. Magistrate Fitch thrived in moments that bent the rules, moments that revealed hairline fractures in what everyone else accepted as solid.

“She took Pru with her in a hurry,” Nicole said. “Like she didn’t want us questioning her before she had a chance to.”

“Or she wanted to make certain her students were safe,” Cal said flatly.

“This again.” I thrummed my fingers against the table and offered him a withering stare.

But he wasn’t paying any attention to me. When he eyed my meal again with longing, I shoved my plate at him. He frowned.

“Go ahead. I’ve had enough.”

Without a preamble, he stabbed some chicken and downed it in two bites, not bothering to cut it or thank me.

“But what does it all mean?” asked Lexie, jumping in for the first time. I kind of forgot she was there.

“It means she’s interesting,” Shalisa said, pumping her brows. “And Magistrates aren’t the only ones who like to solve puzzles.”

I said nothing, watching sunlight catch on the rim of my cup. Interesting. Dangerous. Familiar. The words circled my thoughts without sticking.

As if summoned by thought alone, Pru appeared at the far end of the hall, moving hesitantly beside Magistrate Fitch. Her high ponytail was still a mess of copper strands, her clothes slightly askew, but not the ones she’d arrived in. She clutched a tray, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

“She looks lost,” Nicole said softly.

I stood before I realized what I was doing. “I’ll invite her over.”

Cal jumped to his feet instantly. “I’ll come.”

“I’m not made of glass,” I muttered, but didn’t argue when he followed me anyway.

Pru startled at our approach, eyes widening, then softening when she recognized us.

“Hi,” I said. “You’re welcome to sit with us. If you want.”

“Hello again.” Relief relaxed her face so quickly it made my chest ache, but it wasn’t until she got a nod from Fitch that she said, “I really do.”

I offered what I hoped was an open smile and took her tray. We led her back, chairs scraping as everyone shifted to make room. Nicole grinned, but Shalisa beamed as if she’d just adopted a stray.

“I’m Nicole.” She motioned to her right. “This is Shalisa. You already know Cal. And that’s Amaris and Lexie.”

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” cut in Joey.

“Oh yeah… this is Joey, my annoying boyfri—” Her cheeks flushed. “I mean…”

“You can say boyfriend, babe. It’s true, right?”

Nicole visibly relaxed. “Right. Anyway, we’re really glad you joined us.”

Pru’s gaze lingered on me a fraction longer than necessary. “It’s good to be here, especially after. Um.” She clutched her fork awkwardly. “I mean. Thanks for asking me to sit with you.”

I licked my lips, not knowing what to say. So many questions stirred within me, but how could I ask them? She’d claimed not to know Gran. Was it true? Or was she hiding something?

Shalisa recovered first. “You’re welcome any time.”

Pru hesitated, then gave a tentative smile. “Thanks. And thanks for not pressing me about what happened. I’m not ready to talk about it. Besides, I don’t think I could explain what happened because I have no idea how it did.”

Something about that, her refusal to pretend she understood her own story, made me like her instantly.

Nicole cleared her throat. “So, did you hear we’re having a dance next week?”

Pru laughed, a breathy sound edged with disbelief. “In the hour I’ve been here?”

“Well,” Nicole said, lifting her cup. “Now you know, and we’ll make sure you have a date and something great to wear. Welcome to the Magicorium. Falling through the ceiling is an excellent entrance and first impression.”

Pru smiled, tentative but real, and for just a moment, the strange energy buzzing under my skin settled into something warmer.

Whatever had brought her here, whatever force had bent time enough to drop her into our lives hadn’t finished yet. It threaded through the air, settling into something I didn’t understand.

And somehow, I knew this wasn’t an accident. Pru had found me for a reason.

I just wasn’t sure yet if that reason would save us… or destroy everything I had left.

2. When the Bells Chime

(Day 10 inside the Magicorium)

My first week and a half of school blurred by as I tried to adjust to my schedule and homework, which had been on the lighter side so far. Thank heavens. The long days and sleepless nights crept up on me until I found myself drifting off during classes.

Access to one another in the dorms led to long conversations that lasted well past the chiming of lights-out. Eventually, people would stop talking, find their way to their own rooms, and quiet would set in. But unlike its students, the Magicorium never slept.

When the last bell faded into the roar of waves crashing against the rocks below campus, the structure simply changed gears, reminding me that we were inside a spaceship, for lack of a better word.

To its students, the Angel-made school mimicked a quaint New England fishing village called Slipwitch set on a pristine cove. The campus proper might as well have been another Ivy League beauty with its stone buildings, rich wainscoting, and elegant furnishings.

It was all an illusion, of course, but the salty breeze, the sun on your face, the moon lighting the way at night, and the thick woods at our backs combined to create an atmosphere of reality.

Aside from the magic, I could have been in Taravale again. Sometimes, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander through the past and the wonderful times with Gran and Mom. Life was much simpler when I had a Vaelor and didn’t realize it. Cal made certain I knew he was there and that I would never be free of him.

Not if I had anything to say about it. Constance may have gotten away with foisting Cal upon me, but it wouldn’t always be this way. I refused to believe he was a permanent fixture in my life. I simply needed to convince her that she’d made a mistake. Either that, or talk the Bone Brothers into reversing her decree.

Cal’s shoes clacked against the stone pavers as we walked to the auditorium, where Fitch held Talismans and Charms classes. He hadn’t said a word to me since lunch, and his prickly energy said he was still mad at me for refusing to give in to his demands for adjoining quarters.

Even though the other girls didn’t complain about him being in my hallway every blasted night, some of them seemed jittery as they peered down my corridor or when trying to step over him, a harder feat than one might think, considering the number of times girls tripped while trying.

“Nice night,” I said to see if I was right about his dark mood.

He grunted a reply that might have been, “Yeah.”

The corners of my mouth inched toward my shoes. Before it could grow into a full-blown frown, I pressed my lips together and darted my gaze anywhere but at him.

The ache inside my chest wouldn’t relent. No matter how many times I laughed or cried, it didn’t go away, and I started wondering if it ever would. I once heard that grief never leaves a person. We learn to live with it. It becomes our companion along the way, reminding us of those we’ve lost when we get too busy or careless to notice. Gran’s absence walked beside me wherever I went.

Hoping for relief from the tightness inside me, I lifted my ribcage, yet it did nothing other than make Cal swivel his neck my way. If a person could get a degree in hypervigilance, my Vaelor would have a doctorate. All it took was a shift in my gaze to get him to look ahead again.

He was right, of course. Our current housing arrangements wouldn’t work, not long-term. Maybe not even to the end of the week. Part of me wanted to dig my heels in and fight for the normalcy I craved, but in the end, I knew who would relent.

And it wouldn’t be him.

Storm clouds brewed in the distance and in my soul. Would I ever get a say in how my life went? Or would I forever be caged by the expectations of others?

Since Pru arrived, the rumor mill had been running at full steam. Some of the theories made me laugh outright. The best came from a boy in Realms and Relics, who claimed she might be one of the Elesian three.

The mind-patch Mom and Constance gave me had filled my head with volumes of lore. Essentially, these mavens appeared at dire moments in history to set things right, descendants of Moon Mother, only a few generations removed, wielding power over time, space, and magic.

All Pru seemed to be to me was a scared girl trying to make sense of something she didn’t understand.

I could relate.

“Amaris?” Cal said, making me jump.

“What?”

“We need to move, or we’ll be drenched.”

A crash of thunder answered for me. Rain fell in sheets, sudden and relentless, soaking us before we’d taken more than a few steps. A grumble rose in my throat, but I swallowed it and ran.

Once upon a time, I might have danced in the rain. But that version of me existed in a world where Granya Balakov still lived.

That version of me was gone.

By the time we reached the auditorium, water dripped from my clothes onto the colorful runner leading to the stage, where Fitch waited.

For a moment, I just stood there. Caught between everything I had been… and everything I was expected to become.

The girl who crafted charms with Gran.

The Heir everyone looked to.

The one standing here now, waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

I drew in a breath that didn’t quite steady me and stepped forward anyway.

There was no us with Cal and me. There never would be. I barely noticed him drop onto a bench toward the back as I forced a smile I didn’t feel and made my way to my teacher.

The lights dimmed to a pearlescent glow that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Who needed light, anyway, when the woman in front of me beamed brighter than any chandelier could manage? She clasped her hands together as I approached.

“Amaris,” she said, still grinning. “Have I got a surprise for you…”

I tried to keep up with Fitch as she went through a side passage I hadn’t noticed before because it literally melted into the wall when closed. Without thinking about it, my fingers curled around the strap of my satchel. Would I ever feel comfortable with magic?

Besides the slight discomfort from her show of power, it felt strange to be in this class after hours, stranger still to be excited to be here. How many students got to see these private spaces? Considering the lengths she’d gone to hide the rooms, I doubted many.

The walls of the tiny chamber pressed too close, making me want to turn and insist we craft in the theater. Not even a second later, Cal entered the small space, then grunted.

Fitch pointed to another doorway. “There’s a cot I use when I need a nap between classes. Make yourself comfortable. Get some rest. You look like you need it. I’ll be sure to ward the workroom.”

To my surprise, my Vaelor went in and closed the door behind him without a word uttered or a furtive glance my way. I stared in shock for only a moment because my teacher caught hold of my wrist and yanked. I chuckled, the energy inside me shifting from doom and gloom to excitement. Craft night used to be my favorite of the week.

How could it seem wrong to do it with someone other than Gran, but right at the same time?

We entered a workroom tucked behind the stage. I supposed it made sense for her to have a place to make charms, but something about it screamed SECRET in flashing bold letters. I loved a good mystery, and the atmosphere pulled me in, inviting me to stay a while and bringing a smile to my lips.

It smelled faintly of beeswax and crushed herbs, with a mineral tang that reminded me of rain-soaked earth, or maybe that was my hair. It might be dry, but it didn’t smell like it.

A single table dominated the center, scarred with age and etched with half-faded sigils I didn’t quite understand. Maybe Fitch could teach me. I made a mental note to ask her about it, if there was time.

Sturdy shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars, spools of wire, and bowls of beads that caught the low light and fractured it into color. It was exactly the kind of space Gran and I talked about having but likely never would have, even if things hadn’t gone terribly wrong that horrible summer night.

Magistrate Fitch closed the door behind us and sealed it with a simple twist of her fingers. Even I recognized the ward as a locking spell.

“Now, we need to agree on a few rules. One of which is non-negotiable.”

“Okay,” I said, wondering if I should have insisted Cal join us. My teacher didn’t seem to have an evil bone in her body, but things weren’t always as they seemed.

I shrugged off my soaked jacket and the distrust growing in my gut and hung them both on the nearby rack, reminding myself that the Magicorium could not let someone hurt me.

More than anything, I wanted to believe Magistrate Fitch was who she seemed to be—a lively woman who had dedicated her life to teaching budding witches the secrets of charm-making. Yet here we were, and she was asking me to teach her.

I sighed, missing Gran with every step back to my chair, especially because I’d brought the last of the supplies we’d gotten together. The wrongness of it all hit me again, but crafting with Fitch was safer than my friends.

The clattering of flats against the wood floor pulled me out of the spiral of my thoughts. Magistrate Fitch bounded to the table and spun to face me with a grin stretching her painted pink lips.

“After hours,” she said, leaning against the back of her chair and drawing out the suspense, “you must call me Dasra.”

3. The World After Dark

I blinked, fingering the handles of my bag. “Sorry?”

My teacher spread her hands. “Magistrate Fitch, my daytime persona, exists for lectures, evaluations, and paperwork.” She pumped her thick brows dramatically. “Dasra lives for everything else.”

I giggled. She grinned.

“It’s a pretty name.”

She gestured to the table. “My parents thank you. And are we agreed that I am Dasra tonight?”

A ripple of warmth moved through me, unexpected and grounding. “All right,” I said, nodding. “Dasra… what did you want to work on first?”

She tapped her chin. “You said in class that you learned charmwork from your grandmother.”

“Yes.”

“I would love for you to show me her more… unusual techniques.”

When I set my bag on the table and began unloading my supplies, she cleared her throat. “You sit there,” she said, her voice low and kind as she pointed to a comfy-looking chair. “And before you select anything you’ve brought, I’d like you to peruse my stash.”

“Sounds good,” I said, her contagious enthusiasm brightening my tone and making me impatient to get going.

Bending at the waist, she rummaged through a nearby cupboard, grabbed a few items, then joined me at the table. After a moment, she presented me with a large, multi-level round organizer, then slouched into her seat. A lovely buzz rattled my bones in an enchanting melody that beckoned me to dance to the symphony.

It took more effort than it should have to keep my rear-end in the chair. I spun the first level until it revealed many cut cabochons and faceted gems, my fingers twitching to get crafting. “Wow! You’ve got some good finds in here.”

She shook her head, her eyes widening. “Astounding. You feel the energy without touching them?”

I nodded, deciding not to tell her that I heard them as well, no striking needed. Once I knew they could sing, I listened to the enchanting sounds in my room every night, wishing they could help me sleep. At least they kept me company through the long hours.

“Gran taught me. I’ve learned to distinguish frequencies—”

“Here,” she said, shoving an object wrapped in silk at me, grinning as if she handed me the crown jewels. “Let’s see what you make of this.”

Since I’d claimed I could tell what a crystal was without seeing or touching it, I figured I should prove it. I closed my eyes and slipped off my shoes, grounding my feet.

The shuffling across from me said Fitch did the same. A laugh nearly burst from my chest. I’d never had a teacher like her—so animated and youthful. As most students did, I’d had young teachers, but something about this woman screamed vibrance I’d like to bottle.

The stone’s gentle frequency pulsed against my skin. Not a heartbeat like precious gems or a zap like some crystals. This was more like a steady hum, relaxing and present, supportive even.

“Want a hint?” urged Fitch, her voice rimmed in mirth.

I shook my head, refusing to even peek at her. “I’d rather figure it out on my own.”

Her soft chuckle brushed over me, but I locked my senses onto the energy, waiting for recognition to strike. Yet I’d never experienced anything like it. Finally, I opened my eyes and sat back. “It’s from the Angel Realms. I can’t say which one, but I’d guess the middle, as it resonates with that idea.”

Dasra clapped before releasing a shuddering breath. “You amaze me. This is indeed from Aetheron, the second level of heavenly abodes. And what do you think it does?”

I tapped my chin as she’d done before, staring at the shiny blue fabric covering the stone. Gran taught me to trust my instincts when it comes to crystals, so I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Memory. It’s a stabilizer, but more than that. It restores lost things.”

Fitch gasped. “You are exactly right. I thought you’d be stumped. I only just learned of the existence of this rare gem, and you seem to know more about it than I do.”

I wanted to duck my face, but I kept my chin high. “What’s it called?”

“Aororapestili amber. It comes from a tree known for healing and restoring health. I’ve acquired it for a special purpose.” The levity leaked out of the room as if sucked down a drain. “My father experienced a mental shift when my mother passed. It was a horrible thing. She died in an accident, you see. And he’s never been the same.”

I wanted to reach out and clasp her hand, but she moved it to her lap and clamped her eyes shut.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, wishing I held the power to lift her burdens.

I knew what it meant to lose someone quickly. But watching a loved one slowly fade away seemed like it might be worse.

“And you think this will help him?”

“It’s my deepest hope. But first, I need to learn to craft charms the way you do. I’ve tried all the techniques I know.” She shook her head dismally. “Nothing’s worked. He no longer remembers parts of our time together when I was a child. I can’t bear it, Amaris.”

She swiped her wet cheeks and sniffed. “Enough of that. Now, what have you brought with you?”

“Aren’t you going to show me the… amber?” I’d already forgotten the proper name.

“I keep it wrapped to maintain its potency. You’ll see it when I do. I promise.”

“You haven’t even looked at it?”

A shake of the head. “I keep telling myself the suspense will be worth it.” She looked pointedly at the table. “Speaking of…”

Taking her hint, I lifted my satchel and opened it carefully. Inside, my beads lay wrapped in soft cloth, sorted by feel as much as sight. I spread them out slowly, letting the colors speak for themselves.

“Moonstone and lapis,” she said, nudging two strands apart. “Protection and clarity. This one,” she lifted a bead that shimmered faintly green, “is verityglass. Elendrisian origin, from the mines near Crystal Cove, if I’m not mistaken. I’ve heard it responds better to intention than strict incantation, but I’ve never gotten my hands on it. How did you?”

I leaned closer, shifting a furtive glance at the door for effect. “Lexie hooked me up. But I’ve been a little afraid to use it. Well, that, and this is the first time I’ve been able to spend a night crafting.”

“You sound so human right now,” she said, chuckling. “Crafting indeed.”

“This one…” I selected a bead that looked almost translucent, with a faint inner glow, “…is called milarthia. It’s from the Angel Realms, too. Or so Lexie said. It holds memory in place gently. It doesn’t push or trap it. Maybe we should start here.”

Her breath caught, just barely. When she didn’t protest, I picked it up and chose my wire, thin but strong, and began to work.

My voice cracked when I spoke, but I ignored the spasm of grief tightening my throat and forced myself to continue. “Charmmaking has always been about letting the stones tell me what to do. Like every living thing, stones don’t respond to coercion. If you listen close enough, they’ll guide you.”

I bent the wire around the stone deliberately, fingers steady, breath even, creating a cocoon for the energy. Then another bead called to me. It slid into position as if it had been waiting for this moment.

Dasra watched in silence, arms folded, eyes sharp.

“You anchor before you string,” she said after a moment.

“Yes, I suppose that’s what this is,” I replied, thinking about our lessons so far. Gran taught me things I couldn’t name until now. “It allows the energy to settle evenly and the stones to coalesce.”

“But you’re not chanting.”

I didn’t mean for a frown to furrow my brow, but I couldn’t hold it back. “Why would I?”

“It’s common practice to instill the charm with the right magic.”

“Gran always told me intention was all I required. I don’t need to… chant. I wouldn’t even know how to be honest.”

She moved closer, watching every twist and crimp as if it were the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.

While I worked, I let go of the discomfort of being watched. A soft hum built beneath my skin, filling my soul with the music of magic. The stones warmed as a design unfolded. With it came a melody strung together to create an aria. The temptation to ask Fitch if she could hear it tickled my tongue, but the call of the stones kept me silent.

As always, time seemed to disappear. I allowed the pattern and weave to unfold as I went along. And when the charm was finished, I held it up. Light threaded through the beads, subtle but alive. It resembled a complicated knot, kind of like the Celts used back in the day.

Dasra exhaled slowly. “Your spellwork is tighter than any I’ve ever seen.”

I flushed. “Gran was very particular.”

“She must have been extraordinary.”

“In more ways than one.”

Dasra cleared her throat and reached for her own materials. “All right. Let me try.”

She mimicked my movements carefully, selecting similar stones, anchoring the wire as she’d seen me do. Her hands were steady, practiced, but something snagged. The wire resisted. The beads shifted out of alignment ever so slightly. I couldn’t help but think she was trying too hard.

She frowned, adjusted, twisted again. Nothing clicked into place.

A faint frustration creased her brow. “The rhythm won’t settle.”

“You’re trying to mold them into what you want them to be instead of accepting what they are,” I said gently. “Stones need approval and gratitude as much as any living thing. Let them reveal their purpose and show you how you can use it.”

She huffed a laugh. “Occupational hazard. Teaching in the time allotted to me doesn’t afford much in the way of patience.”

“You’re not teaching now… Relax into it. Enjoy the frequencies. Allow the crystals to move you rather than moving them. If you do, your fingers will know how to twist, when to crimp, or string stones together. Most will meld into a spell no witch could conjure from power alone. I think you’ll discover that they want to serve and fulfill their purpose. Most also love to work together… to enhance each other.”

She gave a single, solemn nod. “Should I start over?”

I shrugged. “Does it feel like you should?”

She shook her head, then bent over her work, bowing her head for a moment as if in prayer. Soon, she lost herself in it so much that I was certain that if I got up and left, she would have never noticed.

So I picked some other stones and started another charm. This one felt like it wanted to lift someone’s spirits.

We crafted in companionable quiet for a while, the room filling with the soft sounds of metal, stone, and magic coming together. Eventually, Dasra set her piece down with a sigh.

“Perhaps I should test these on students first,” she said dryly. “Before I accidentally erase a cherished memory or two for good.”

I laughed, surprised by how easy it felt. “I don’t think the Circle would approve of experimenting on witchlings.”

She gave a devil-may-care lopsided shrug, brushing her long sunny curls over one shoulder. “They rarely approve of anything worthwhile.”

Her humor faded, replaced by something more solemn. She stared at her unfinished charm, fingers resting beside it.

“My father is declining quickly,” she whispered.

I looked up, heart tightening, hands slowing.

“As I said, it started after a spell went wrong.” She winced. “Even though my mother took the brunt of the rebound, something within my dad fractured. I’ve thought it may have been because she died instantly, that his heart simply couldn’t take the loss. But I no longer do. He doesn’t even remember her now. How can someone spend the better part of a century and a half together and lose those moments?”

She swallowed. “They’re fleeing his mind in droves. He forgot the details of our final vacation as a family. Last year, we went to Crystal Cove and spent more than a week in the baths. He was better for a while afterward, but things have been slipping at an alarming pace. Yesterday, he couldn’t remember the way to the market.”

I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“She’s been gone five years. And now I’m losing him. He’s still mostly healthy, but he’s not the same man. In fact, some days, he feels like a child. I’m afraid I’m going to have to resign my post or hire a caretaker.”

“He’s inside the Magicorium?”

A nod. “I’ve obtained special permission because I’ve been named the best charm maker in all of Elendris, and the students need me.”

She shook her head, a sharp, frustrated motion. “I certainly don’t deserve the title now. For a long time, I’ve wanted to make something that will help him hold on… to remind him who he was. Who we were as a family.” Her voice broke, just slightly. “That’s why I wanted to really learn the magic of creating charms. Granya Balakov is known in Silver Moon Bay as one of the greatest female Vaelors of all time. But she’s also known for being a Balakov. They teach more than tradition. They teach magic in the old ways. What it should be. I’ve wanted to study under one of them for an age, but I’ve been here since I surpassed the abilities of Magistrate Keleter. She held the position for many decades.”

I reached for the charm I made and placed it in front of her. “This one may help,” I said hesitantly because I didn’t know if she was ready to face the level of his depression. For some reason, I had to add, “But he’ll have to want to accept it.”

Dasra nodded, eyes bright. “Of course. But what if he forgets?”

I took a deep breath, hoping that what I needed to tell her was actually true. “I don’t think it will matter. Consent is important, so you’ll need to make sure he’s lucid when you present it. The stones will remember how to smile even when he doesn’t. Give it time, but you may find him more willing to get out of the house. He may even start to want to remember the past.”

She took the charm, our fingers brushing, and tucked it into her pocket. “Thank you, Amaris. You don’t know what this means to me. He’s the last of my family alive. I was an only child from a pair of only children. I’ve yet to have children of my own.”

She paused for a moment, and something shifted in the air. The calm certainty of the crystals morphed into the pulse of trouble unspoken.

If Dasra noticed the change, she didn’t show it. “Speaking of family…” she went on. “Have you heard from yours?”

My breath caught in my throat, choking a quick reply. I stared at her, but she didn’t look at me. How would I have?

“No,” I said finally. “I didn’t think calls with the outside were possible. I mean, Gran did the impossible, but I thought we were cut off from Elendris until the session ends.”

Her fingers twined into her hairline. “There are ways of communicating. Even inside the Magicorium. You’ve not received a single missive?”

She still wouldn’t look at me. I shook my head. Part of me wondered why she was pressing me when I already answered, but I shrugged off the doubt.

She was more than my teacher. I could almost see her becoming a friend.

“That’s… unusual,” she murmured, her flats tapping against the floor. “Given who you are, I would have expected something by now. Your grandmother isn’t exactly known for her subtlety.”

Discomfort prickled along my spine because she was right. Once Constance showed up, she hadn’t let me get a single day to myself in Silver Lake or Silver Moon Bay. I clutched the nearest leg under the table, hoping it would steady me.

Mom always called me back home. The most she’d gone was a few days. It had been a week and a half already.

“They’re probably busy and don’t want to make me homesick.”

“Yes,” Dasra said, drawing out the s. “I’m sure they’ll reach out soon. The Lunam Supreme gets called away so often, it doesn’t surprise me. And since your mother is the best relic hunter in the nine realms, she’s most likely on Circle business.” She might as well have used air quotes on that last bit. Her lips pressed together before she waved a dismissive hand. “They mean well. The Circle always means well. Even when they fail spectacularly.”

Something in her tone made my chest tighten.

“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning in, hoping to snag her gaze.

She froze. For a heartbeat, the room felt stuck in time.

Dasra sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that. Forgive me.”

“Said what?”

At last, she met my gaze with something like regret flickering in hers. “The Lunam Supreme has been missing longer than the public record admits, and there’s no indication the Circle is looking for her.”

Ice coated my insides until I shook, until my voice croaked. “Missing? I-I thought she was called away.”

Dasra straightened, all magistrate again. “I’ve said too much as it is. Please don’t tell anyone I told you.”

“But you just said—”

“I know…” She pressed her palms against her eyes, then peeked at me, her gaze softening. “And I’m sorry. Forget I mentioned it.”

Wanting to ease her fear, I nodded slowly, though I doubted I’d forget anytime soon. How could I? She claimed Constance was missing. What could possibly have happened to the Lunam Supreme?

In a flash of limbs, Fitch gathered the beads and placed them in their slots before unsealing the door. When she faced me again, Dasra was gone. “You did well tonight, Amaris. Thanks again.”

I hesitated on the threshold, my hand lingering against the frame.

“You’ll make the charm in time to save him,” I said, because it felt like the right thing to say. Because it was something I could still hold onto.

She smiled, tired but determined. “I’m counting on it.”

I nodded and stepped into the corridor, where Cal waited for me, his scrutiny sharp and probing.

The door shut behind me with a quiet click, sealing the warmth of the room—and everything we’d said—on the other side.

My chest tightened as I made my way down the hall, the Magicorium suddenly feeling too large, too hollow, like something essential had been pulled out of it.

Or maybe it was just me.

The words she’d let slip followed Cal and me into the night.

The Lunam Supreme has been missing…

They didn’t feel real. They couldn’t be real.

My grandmother wasn’t missing. She was the strongest witch in Elendris.

And yet… the thought wouldn’t let go.

Keep a lookout for the release date. It will likely be the beginning of August. I’ll let you know for sure when I do.

Thanks for reading! I hope you’re enjoying your summer.