Page 87 of The Tree of Spirits
His whole face lit up, like I’d just given him the world. “Great! It’s been a long day, but tomorrow we’ll nab those Templars and save the missing Apprentices.”
Later, I was just setting our plates on the table when the overhead lamps sizzled out.
“And there goes the power.” I squinted at Conner in the dark room. “Still think I shouldn’t worry?”
“Oh, I totally expect you to worry.” He smirked at me. “You enjoy worrying.”
“I donotenjoy worrying.”
“Sure you do.” Conner pulled a bunch of candles out of a closet and set them on the table.
I lit them with a candle lighter, then we both sat down.
Conner grinned at me over braided fingers—and a sea of flickering candles. “Now isn’t this romantic?”
It kind of was, but I’d never admit that. Instead, I handed him the spaghetti sauce. Lightning flashed through the windows. Thunder answered with a roar. And the whole time, the rain beat down on the roof like a stranger knocking on our door, desperate to get inside.
“This is going to be a long night,” I sighed.
We ate spaghetti by candlelight. As the minutes passed, the room grew darker, until our table was a tiny beacon of flickering light in the blackness. We talked and laughed, and after a while, I didn’t mind the storm at all anymore. Because I wasn’t alone in all this. And in our crazy, scary world, that was what truly mattered.
EPISODE 5
THE UNREADABLE SPELLBOOK
CHAPTER 1
TURNABOUT
Iopened my eyes to a dull, wet morning. It was still raining. Water streamed down the windows. It clinked on the roof, drowning out the television.
I peeled the fluffy blanket off my body and sat up on the sofa. The TV remote was lying on the side table. I grabbed it, turning up the volume.
“Yes, we have obtained evidence that the kidnappers—who are calling themselves the Templars—are, in fact,notfrom Gaia,” the General declared on the screen. “In contrast to what Prince Fenris would have everyone believe, the Templars are not proof of the so-called infighting on Gaia. The Templars are supernaturals from elsewhere in the Many Realms, outsiders who brought these problems to our realm. The Gaian Government will be bringing up this issue at the upcoming Summit. We will insist that the Many Realms Court get control over their own people.”
“Oh, Fenris is going to lovethat,” I chuckled.
The news switched to clips of protestors on the streets of the Fortress. The crowd was thick with angry faces and colorful signs.
“Early this morning, following the General’s shocking revelation, thousands of Gaian citizens took to the streets,” recited the dramatic narrator as the images flickered past. “From the Magic Emporium to the Blue Mountains, protestors are calling for the Brothers’ immediate release from prison and the speedy deportation of all foreign supernaturals. Some protestors went even further, demanding the banning ofallmagic on Gaia, which would include the Gaian-born Knights.”
“Fools. Who will fight the Curse if the Knights are gone?” I growled at the TV before switching it off.
I searched the hideout for Conner, but he wasn’t here. He had left a note, though.
It read,Went to the clubhouse to pick up some supplies for breakfast. Be back soon.
I put on the raincoat I found hanging in the entry and went outside to look for him.
I stepped out of the house and into a thunderstorm. The sky above me was swirling with clouds, lit up by the occasional flash of lightning. Rain beat against my rain jacket—my hood, my shoulders, my back. It was coming down too fast and hard. Streams of water rushed down the street, gurgling over the high curbs, collecting into swirling pools around the leaf-clogged gutters.
I made my way toward the old tennis courts that neighbored the hideout. They’d long since been abandoned, but the synthetic grass was still mostly intact, minus a few lumps and bumps where wayward tree roots had invaded the once-pristine courts.
It took me only a few minutes to walk to the clubhouse, but already in that short time, the rain had escalated from ‘heavy’ to ‘torrential’. The streets could hardly be called streets anymore; they were rivers. It looked like the Watchers wouldn’t be drivingaround town today in their big, black spy-mobiles. There weren’t many upsides to flash-flooding, but that was one of them.
I threw a quick glance across the raging river-street, where an old church’s peeling signboard still advertised ‘Sunday services’ that hadn’t been held in years.
Then I turned and entered the tennis club grounds, tightening my hood around my face in a vain attempt to keep out the rain. I ducked inside the unlocked clubhouse, expecting to find Conner there.
