Calling Magic
127 pages
English

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127 pages
English

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Description

Tia, the most powerful young witch of her time, flees the Court of Wizards and the magicians determined to control her, seeking a new life in the prosperous city of Paiza. There, as the assistant to a flamboyant court magician, she finds friendship and comfort brewing potions, learning new spells and exploring the gadget-filled city. 

But the king of Paiza, with his captivating gray eyes and mysterious purple ring, holds an inexplicable sway over her. When Paiza comes under threat, will Tia’s identity and extraordinary powers remain hidden? 

An enchanting  tale of magic and adventure, with Tia, as outspokenly original as she is powerful, at its center.

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Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 20 septembre 2021
Nombre de lectures 1
EAN13 9789927151668
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0500€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wielding Magic
A Court of Wizards Story
Book Two


To Dad, for showing me what true strength is all about



CHAPTER 1
Oh, bubbles!
“I’ll pay you double! Just drive!” I shouted at the coachman as I clung to the side of his moving carriage.
“You got coin?” he asked, glaring at me.
“Yes, amph!” The wheel hit a bump, and I hugged the pole I was hanging onto tighter. The carriage drove over a creaking wooden bridge and I gasped at the sight of the crashing water beneath us.
“Show me or I’m stopping right now.” I wanted to slap him, kick him or curse him for all eternity. My pulse raced faster with every shout coming from the guards behind us.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my money sack and shook it so he’d hear the coins jingle.
“Alright,” was all he said before yanking me up to sit beside him and cracking his whip.
The horses reared up and I could hear shrieking noises inside the carriage, probably from the unsuspecting travelers. The coachman didn’t pay attention to them and with a rumbling sound sped across the bridge that led us away from the river and closer to the mountain and the city of Paiza.
I dared to glance over my shoulder at the group of guards who had chased me through half the city. They stood at the curve of the bridge. A few shook their swords at me, and one had an arrow at the ready, but a guard next to him made him lower his bow.
“Don’t worry!” I yelled at them as we moved away. “I’m never coming back again! Uff,” I huffed, crossing my arms.
I had been traveling for almost a week now and I was being careful to hide my powers. But how could I have known that magic was not allowed in that hexing city and that they actually had spell sensors to alarm guards? They should’ve had signs or a warning or something. I was only trying to cut my sandwich, which was very big, and I didn’t have a knife. I didn’t even have the chance to eat it!
I pouted as my stomach grumbled. I was close, I told myself. This was the final day of traveling and the moment I crossed the walls of Paiza, it would all be over.
Somehow, though, the last few miles were the hardest. I fidgeted throughout the drive. Perhaps it was because I was still shaken by the fright of that chase, or maybe because in every story book I had read, this was usually the moment when things went bad.
But I wasn’t in a story book and the day passed without incident, and by the time the sun was gliding down behind us, I saw it. A shimmering golden dot at the foot of a mountain, like a mirage that could disappoint me. But the closer we got, the surer I was. This was Paiza: a thriving walled city.
My heart pounded and my hand slid into my pocket, my fingers longing for the calming feeling the smooth paper of the invitation brought me. The invitation that would get me through those massive stone walls and into a new beginning. Breathe , I reminded myself, but, oh boiling cauldron, how nervous I was!
“ Here I go.” I bit my lip and tugged a tiny purple curl away from my face and hid it under my scarf.
The driver pulled on the reins and, the moment the carriage stopped, he turned to me with his hand out. I rolled my eyes and pulled out my money sack. I handed him two silver coins.
He still had his hand out. I gave him one more coin. He didn’t move.
“What? That’s more than double!”
“It costs more than double to transport criminals,” he shrugged.
I gaped at him, but I still shoved one more coin into his hand.
“I’m not a criminal,” I said as I climbed down.
“Then, maybe next time, don’t dress like one,” the driver snorted and cracked his whip again.
I looked down at my outfit, a short black dress and studded, also black, boots. I thought black would keep me out of sight, but during this week I realized I was wrong. Apparently, no one in the land wore that much black. Most people I met didn’t have a drop of black on their cloaks, or their clothes or their boots. Earthy colors , I noted to myself. Next time I’ll wear earthy colors .
I’m hopeless , I sighed. I couldn’t change it now. I wasn’t going to risk doing magic again.
I turned and walked along with a woman who was the only other traveler heading to Paiza from the carriage. She was holding a tiny child in her arms while another and slightly older kid, a boy, latched onto her skirt. A trunk as tall as the boy stood right by her side. I was about to offer to help her drag it up the hill, when the woman pushed a button on the trunk and four iron claws popped out from its sides. The boy gave the trunk a push and with a thud it stood up on its claws. The woman turned and with a melody of clicks the trunk, like a spider, followed her.
How bizarre.
I stood staring at them, but realizing she seemed to know where she was going, I followed her. We walked on a stone road that ran through the green moors circling the mountain and up the hill to the foot of the mountain where the city of Paiza awaited me, surrounded by thick ancient walls.
The walls were famous back at the Court of Wizards, where I used to live. It was said that for hundreds, maybe thousands of years, the walls protected Paiza from all harm. Neither a herd of elephants nor an army of magicians could break through them. The impenetrable stone barrier was drenched in ancient spells of strength and protection. Paiza was the safest place in all the land, and because of that I had decided to make the city my new home.
I could see the ancient carvings of those incantations on the walls as we neared the gates, but I didn’t anticipate the feeling that hit me when I stood right in front of them. My spine tingled with the power pulsing out of those majestic walls. My heart was elated by the combination of feelings they released: fear, calm and admiration.
I was so stunned I didn’t notice the line of people before us, all waiting to enter. Many had the wheeled trunks, clicking like nervous ticks beside them. A man in front of me wore a leather hat with goggles strapped on it and the woman who was accompanying him wore a long leather coat with what appeared to be copper wheels pinned all over the fabric.
A clink followed by a wheeze from my left made me turn around.
A huge, horseless two-floor carriage with whirling and clicking wheels drove by me on a road parallel to ours. Copper pipes, coughing clouds of glittering white steam, covered the corners of the whale of a carriage. Wide open windows showed groups of people having tea and chatting on each floor. The carriage entered through a huge door that was cut inside the massive metal gate. My line took me to a smaller door that was for people on foot and as I walked closer, I wondered when was the last time the main gates were fully opened.
This is going to be a weird city . Hopeful anticipation rose in my chest, and I could see another similar, yet smaller, carriage coming from the far west, clinking and huffing steam.
Suddenly I felt a punch directed at my hip. “Ouch!” I screamed. Oh, bubbles! My scream was so loud that everyone turned to see why in all the lands I had released such a shrill.
I turned to where the punch had come from and discovered a little child, no, a little monster, giggling at me. It took all that was left in me not to flick my fingers at him and turn him into an ugly toad or … I blinked.
Somewhere behind the line of people, I glimpsed a shadow of a bird, an eagle . My throat closed on itself. I blinked once more. There wasn’t anything there. It was a glimpse, a passing moment.
I was imagining it, I told myself as I took a deep breath. The invitation crumpled under my tight grip, and the need to get inside those walls overtook me.
“Your child is possessed!” I hissed at the mother and walked away, moving between people to try and get to the gates faster. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her that, looking obviously like a witch. She’d probably even take the kid to a magician or two to verify whether it was true. But I didn’t care. I was too agitated, and my hip still hurt from that punch. From how strong the punch had been, he probably was demented.
“Rude,” a man grumbled as I passed him. Many more shared his annoyance as I moved up the line, but I didn’t care. I had seen a shadow . Where I came from, shadows were never good. I needed to get inside those gates.
I heard a few complaints whispered along the way, but no one dared to stop me. My criminal outfit was good for something after all.
When I got to the head of the line, one man stood by the door and was talking to a … window?
After saying a few words to it, the metal gate creaked open and he entered.
I moved to follow, but then, “Where do you think you’re going?” a voice from the window said to me and I halted. No, not from the window, I realized, but from a pipe stuck to the side of the window, its lips flared out like an open mouth.
A man sat behind the sealed window. The window was a bit dusty but I could see he wore what I assumed to be a guard’s uniform, all green and brown, the colors of the mountain, with a tiny copper wheel pinned to his chest. The energy I sensed from him felt tired and worn out, an energy someone that young shouldn’t have had. Probably being outside and dealing with hundreds of people every day took a toll on him.
“Magicians are not allowed in without permits,” he said, tapping t

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