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looked ancient, with scrapes in the leather grip. Must be a family heir-loom. Even as she stared, the girl turned and flashed her a quick grin.

                A man stepped out of the carrier as the propellers slowed. His jacket declared him to be from the M.O.D, the Ministry of Defense. He raised a hand at the bus, his lips moving. The bus tipped back up so that it rested on four wheels. “I’m Nicholas Wright,” he said, “You kids are going to have to come with us for now. We’ll make sure that you get to school in time.”

                He helped them get their luggage out from the compartment under the bus. The girl with the sword only had a small duffel and a backpack. Candace turned to help August with her bags, but August dragged her stuff over to Swordgirl and smiled up at her. Swordgirl grinned at her and grabbed August’s largest bag, hoisting it over her shoulder as if it weighed a mere ten pounds. Candace huffed, grabbed her own bags, and headed after them.

               

Arrival

 Mr. Wright had them sit towards the back of the carrier, strapped in with their bags carefully lined in the middle, kept in place by magic. He stood at the head of the plane, near the cockpit.

                “Alright, we’re going to have to take your statements regarding what happened just now at the Ministry. It’ll be about an hour’s delay, just so that we get all the facts straight.” He thumbed through the bus’s itinerary. “First, let’s make sure that you’re all here. Mark Wells. Brian Kamphuis.”

The two boys dutifully raised their hands.

“August Julian.”

                August mimicked the guys.

                “Brielle Lancaster.”

                “Here,” the second year said from between the two boys. They were probably all in the same year.

                “Candace Julian.” Candace raised her hand. That left only Swordgirl.

                “And who are you?” Wright asked her.

                “Oh, I know I’m not on the roster, but I am supposed to be going to Belladonna. Late addition to the school, see. You can radio your boss if you want, just drop the name Zen and we should be good to go.”

                He huffed as he entered the cockpit. He muttered something into the radio even as the pilot shut the door so that they couldn’t hear what was being said.

                Ten minutes later, Mr. Wright came back out and strapped himself into a seat far away from them. The carrier took off. Swordgirl, Zen, closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, her fingers clutching the armrests with a white-knuckled grip. Badass battle student was afraid of flying, Candace couldn’t resist noting.

                August was sitting right next to her, staring up at Zen with what was dangerously close to hero-worship. Candace huffed, closed her eyes and went over the seven different ways to determine age of a dragon. Length of talon, length of wolf tooth, size of tail scales, heat of fire breath, time spent sleeping, appetite, and-

                The carrier tipped as it began to descend, startling Candace. They were at the Ministry already? She wasn’t the only one surprised. The two boys were craning their necks over their shoulders, as if they could somehow see through the metal walls as to where they actually were. The ministry was in Washington State, after all, and there was no way that they had been going at the carrier’s top speed. They would have felt something if it had accelerated that much.

                With a thump that rattled her teeth, the carrier landed. The door slowly dropped, letting in the light as Mr. Wright freed himself. The others followed suit. Candace’s brow furrowed as she took in the pristine white buildings off in the distance, a laneway leading to it. Several jeeps were parked close to the carrier, obviously waiting for arrivals. But what really tipped her off to where they were was the forest, its dark green foliage swaying in the breeze, white trees smattered amongst them like paint flicked at a canvas.

                Belladonna Academy, the only all-female wizarding school on the continent, sparkled in the afternoon sun like a marble statue fresh from the studio. She turned to Wright. “I thought we were going to the Ministry.”

                If she hadn’t been looking at him, she would have missed the quick glance that he gave Zen, busy trying to free her bags from the magic weave while keeping her skirt cover as much skin as possible, before he replied. “New orders. We don’t need your statements for the record as it turns out.” He released the weave, and the other students quickly grabbed their things.

                As soon as the last one stepped off the carrier, the door immediately began to close. Without so much as a goodbye, it roared back to life and shot back up into the air, causing Candace’s hair to fly about in the sudden updraft.

                The two boys headed immediately to one of the jeeps marked with the white raven of St. Malcom’s Institute, shouting a goodbye to Brielle. August followed Candace to one of the jeeps marked with the black blossom that was supposed to mean Belladonna. Zen and Brielle joined them, and the four of them piled into the back of the vehicle. No one sat in the driver’s seat. It was more a superstition than anything else, Candace had concluded a long time ago. It didn’t seem right to sit behind the wheel when the car did all the driving.

                August ended up between her and Zen, with Brielle taking shotgun. The jeep roared to life and began to trundle down the lane towards the school.

                It was Zen who spoke first. “So what’s the school like?”

                “Are you a transfer?” August asked.

                Zen shrugged, “I guess you could say that. Seriously, what’s the school like? Where do we sleep?”

                “You would have gotten a package in the mail from the school about three weeks ago, explaining that. What year are you in?” Candace asked.

                “Five, same as you.” Zen gave her a smirk. “And let’s pretend that I didn’t get this package in the mail.”

                “Okay, so fifth year is when teams are made for study and projects and such. Groups of four, and you room with them. Teams have to be made by the end of the week, and the students that haven’t formed a team by that point are lumped together to make up the remaining teams. The top five teams of each year get to enter in the school tournament hosted between Belladonna, St. Malcom, and Jillian’s. That’s the wizardry school in northern Canada.”

                “Sounds like a giant pain in the ass,” Zen scoffed, turning away to stare out the window at the Forest of Mysteries that now framed the lane.

“It has worked for centuries, and no one has ever complained about it.” Candace knew why she was being so prissy. It had to do with the fact that they were getting closer and closer to where Fitz and Jason had died.

“What I want to know,” Brielle piped up from the front seat, turning to face her, “Is if the rumors are true. Are you responsible for what happened to the Trinity?”

Candace’s face turned beet red even as she felt whatever strength she had left whoosh out of her. She opened her mouth to try to answer, to try to defend herself, but Zen beat her to it.

“What’s a mage got to do with gods?” she asked blandly.

Brielle looked confused. “No, the Trinity. Sylvia and Fitz Knight and Jason Stern, the most powerful wizards that our schools have ever had. And she’s the one who destroyed them.” She jabbed an accusing finger at Candace.

Zen reached out and twisted her finger. Brielle shrieked in pain as she ripped her finger back. It was purple. “What did you do?” she demanded.

Zen gave her a look of such scorn that Candace almost felt sorry for the little weasel. Almost. “Just a mild spell. Every time you gossip, one of your fingers turns purple. And every time you lie about someone, your tongue swells a little bigger. I suggest you be careful. Gossip more than ten times, and the purple becomes permanent. Tell enough lies and you’ll choke on your own tongue. Now wouldn’t that be just tragic, hm? A little snark like you dying because she couldn’t leave people be.”

“Get rid of it!” Brielle’s eyes were huge now as she clutched at the plum finger.

Zen shook her head slowly, crossing her arms. “Can’t. Don’t know the reversal. But don’t worry. It only lasts a week, then you can go right on with your meddling. Now, you were saying something about Candace destroying this Trinity?”

Brielle’s mouth shut and, after giving Zen a long dark glare, she whipped back to face the front.

“Thought so,” Zen said, returning to her examination of the forest.

“Magic is so cool!” August crowed, making the awkward silence worse.

 

 

Jamie Parker

The laneway joined the main drive to the school, and the jeep trundled up the hill to the vast welcoming circle. The school was made of white bricks, with two side buildings that connected to the main by covered tunnels on the second and fourth floors, as well as by corridors on the very edges of the building, forming a giant square horseshoe. The entrance was dominated by a massive fountain carved of black marble in the form of the three famous hunters- Sparrow, Jade Spellbinder, and Hiro Mayuri- standing with their backs to each other in open defiance. The three sisters were the ones responsible for beginning the first battle school over three centuries ago.

Other jeeps were parked along the front steps of the western building where the dorms were, with students in various stages of unloading their things from the back. Candace immediately picked out the bleached orange scene hair cut that could only belong to one person in a crowd of students proudly wearing Jillian jackets. As soon as the jeep pulled into an empty spot in the courtyard outside the main entrance to the dorms, she burst from the vehicle and grabbed her friend.

“Hey,” the short Jamie said, “Missed you too.”

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Candace looked up to see Zen, standing with her thumbs hooked into the waist of her skirt. “Where’s the main office?”

Jamie pointed towards the fountain. “You go in that building over there, and the office will be on your left.” Zen acknowledged the help with a quick lift of her eyebrows before walking away, duffel and backpack slung

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