Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Ready to go?”
My cheeks warmed. “Definitely.” I hefted up my sagging knapsack.
“So, where should I take you?”
I sorted through my list of priorities. “First, I need to meet the town leader.” All witches and wizards were supposed to meet with the leader to understand how they could best help the town, and that’s where I would receive my guardian assignment—if I was allowed to stay.
“That’s not going to happen.” Rin shook her head. “When the sun starts to set and the dinner bell rings, Mayor Taira closes up the town hall to encourage workers to go home for dinner with their families.”
My chest pinched. “I can’t fulfill my duty to see the mayor?”
The Council would be appalled. Conroy would say I was charming myself onto the path to failure.
Rin chuckled. “Believe me, it’s better to meet Mayor Taira after a good night’s sleep.” Then she studied my broomstick and lumpy knapsack. “But we should get you a place to stay.… You’re young enough.… Maybe there’s a spare bed at the orphanage?” She glanced at a two-story white stone building at the edge of the docks. “Ah, wait! It’s been so long that I almost forgot.… You don’t mind living alone?”
“Not at all.” Or at least I didn’t think so. I gulped. It finally sank in that my parents were terribly far away; Father would’ve befriended everyone on the ship with his croissants by the time we had landed, and Mother would’ve found a way to charm Mayor Taira to an audience. My cheeks burned. I doubted that they would have fallen asleep on the boat, either.
“How do you feel about a fixer-upper?”
“I’m handy, I’m good with fixing things,” I said, drawing myself up.
Rin’s lips curved into a smile. “Then I know of the place for you.”
I followed Rin away from the town and on a narrow path up a cliff, stumbling over the moss and rocks. In the crevices, pale purple dusklight flowers had unfurled in the evening glow, swaying in the sea breeze. To my right, the wall of black rocks towered over me; on the left, the path dropped straight down to the sea.
I had never been scared of heights, but there was something ferociously wild and other about the sea. I stuck close to the cliff and the stiff brush that grew in the crevices. I was used to grassy plains and lush forests, not this turbulent blue-black water. I breathed in deep, and the salty sea spray settled into my dress and onto my skin.
Rin disappeared around a corner marked by a lonely patch of stiff brush. I hurried to catch up. I turned around the cliff, and the path opened up to a small house built into the rocks, with vines of dusklight flowers covering its front.
“Ah, it’s been years since I’ve been here.” Rin stretched out her arms. “I used to sneak out here with my friends.”
I stared at the tiny cottage. Under the vines, it was painted some sort of brownish color. Or it was simply very dirty.
“Who lived here?” I wondered aloud.
“This is Auteri’s cottage for witches and wizards like you. We haven’t had one in more than a dozen years, so this place has been a bit neglected.”
The cottage definitely was a fixer-upper. It would require a lot of magic to clean it up, but something about the place felt so right.
“I’m sorry.… It doesn’t look like much.” Rin tugged her cap down to cover her eyes.
I blinked and shook my head fervently. “No, no. That’s not it.”
My magic bubbled up inside me, itching to mend the storm shutters dangling off the hinges, to scrub the windows caked with dirt. With a good cleaning and some repairs, the glass would shimmer with the reflection of the sea. I could stay in Auteri and help the town, starting with this cottage.
I turned to her and grinned. “It’s perfect.”
CHAPTER 7
A GHOSTLY VISITOR
Hours later, past midnight, I sprawled on the floor. My bones ached from cleaning the cottage with a simple spell and a whole lot of elbow grease.
I had charmed a handkerchief to scrub the house from floor to ceiling with “A mean clean is in need.” It had run out of magic halfway through, and I had finished scouring the floorboards with the limp cloth and a bucket of soapy water.
There were only two rooms: a square washroom and a main area with windows that looked out onto the sea. The central room had a tiny kitchen area, a rickety bed frame with a lumpy mattress, and a small closet that I had tossed my knapsack into. I had fixed up the broken sink and started a fire in the stove to cook a late dinner.
While I waited for water to boil, I scribbled out a quick letter.
Dear Mother and Father,
I’m in Auteri. I was wondering… Is there any way to check whether I’m in the right town? I don’t think I got off the boat too late or anything, just to confirm.
And Mother, don’t worry—I’ll do good by my town, I promise.
With love,
Eva
My fingers carefully folded the paper in and under to create a paper bird. I wasn’t very good at folding—one wing was bigger than the other—but it was all I needed for letters. I wrote To Nelalithimus and Isao Evergreen in my best cursive on the right wing.
“Resist the water, resist the wind, resist until your path desists,” I chanted, and tapped my wand against the letter. I scooped the paper bird into my palm and brought it to the window.
“Give my love to my parents, little bird.” I blew lightly on the paper and the bird-letter jumped up onto the sill, arching its neck. Fluttering its thin paper wings, it leaped into the night.
For a second, I imagined I could fly like the bird, back home. I glanced at my broomstick propped in the corner. I’d told Conroy that I could fly, but that was a bit of a stretch. Like my magic, I’d practiced and practiced but never quite gotten the hang of it. “I have to learn how to properly fly first. I should name you—how about Fiery Phoenix?”
I had always been fascinated by phoenixes. When I read Mother’s magic tomes, I had traced my fingers over the painted yellow-red eyes and the majestic gold-leafed plumage, like a glowing flame. If a witch or wizard was lucky enough to receive a phoenix feather, their magic blossomed, but no one had found a feather in more than a hundred years. I’d always wanted just one feather. Just last year, rumors spread of a sighting in the east of the realm, by the Walking Cliffs. Almost all of the realm’s witches and wizards had swarmed the cliffs, Mother included. Not a feather was to be found. After weeks of crawling over the rocks that were almost as tall as the Sakuya Mountains, the Council chalked it up to a fireside fable.
The stiff broomstick didn’t look anything like a phoenix. “A different name, maybe.” I put it away in the closet.
I rummaged in my knapsack for the smoked fish, the canvas wheezing with relief as I took out my kitchen supplies and poured a handful of rice into the boiling pot. Before long, the familiar smell of the bubbling rice wafted through the cottage. I scrubbed a chipped plate from the dusty shelves and brought my simple dinner to the front step of the cottage.
My tired body nearly melted when I sat on the stone slab. The night sky sparkled with more stars than I’d ever seen. I peered to my left, and the golden lights from town flickered comfortingly.