“It’s made out of magical glass blown from sand found on the shores of Alato, the lands of the bird people. The magic makes it frigid.”
Now he tells me. My fingers prickled.
Professor Attwood sank into a leather chair behind the desk and motioned for me to take the one across from him. He placed his elbows on his armrests, formed a steeple with his hands, and studied me with intense blue eyes.
Uncomfortable, I crossed my legs and stared out the window behind him, watching the clouds mingle over the countryside.
“Hmm…” He tapped his fingertips together. “How shall we begin? Sentinels usually commence their training at a much younger age than you are now, allowing more time to develop their magic.”
“Can I ask you something?”
He nodded.
“Someone said Asile doesn’t know where her loyalties lie. What did he mean by that?”
He parted his hands and leaned back into the chair. “There was an attack on a Mystik city a few days ago, and we’re not certain which tribe was responsible for the assault. Many think an exiled French wizard was behind it.”
“Do you mean Conemar?”
“That is the one. If it were him, then his adopted Haven, Estril, is backing him.”
“Where is that place?” I asked.
“It’s within Russia,” he said. “Until the threat is eliminated, travel through the gateways has been restricted. Asile is one of the havens open to the entire Mystik world. Many come to visit our city, work in our Haven, or attend our academy. Anyone with ill intentions may have a plant here.” He rocked forward. “I do agree with this someone; you should be careful. But you will have to trust me, so I can help you come into your power.”
“Did you say a plant, like in a spy? What are they searching for?”
“There’s a rumor mushrooming in the Mystik cities that a chart documenting the whereabouts of some powerful relics is hidden somewhere here in Asile.” He swiveled the chair back and forth. “But that is not our concern at the moment. Our lessons are. Shall we begin? Have you ever created any magic, by purpose or by accident?”
I hesitated. “Well, yesterday I created a light globe.”
“Only yesterday?” He stilled his chair. “Have you ever created a globe before?”
“By accident, when I was younger. Yesterday, I did it on purpose.”
My leg started to shake. I was as nervous as that time I’d been called to the principal’s office after reaching my tardy quota. Okay, maybe triple that time.
“You just performed one with no problems or false starts?” he asked.
“I had a few false starts. Arik helped me get it.”
“I see. And your mother, did she ever talk about our world?”
“Sort of. I was four when she died, so, you know…” The right corner of my mouth started doing the nervous twitch thing, joining my spasmy leg.
“No. I don’t know.”
“Well, she didn’t tell me, but told me by way of a story…sort of.”
“I see. You resemble her, slightly. Marietta Bianchi.” I swear tears were pooling in his eyes. “Your mother used to have the same tremble at the turn of her mouth. It was the only way under her strong Sentinel pretense that I knew when she was nervous.”
“And how are you related, again?”
“We share the same mother. I was three when my father died, and shortly after, our mother married Marietta’s father. A year afterward, Marietta was born and then taken away by her faery parent to train.”
“How did you know about her? I was told no one was aware of the exchanges.”
“Very few Sentinels are born to families in the havens,” he said. “They’re created in the human world, from parents who are distant descendants of the original knights. The ones the fey used to create the Sentinels. Marietta’s birth was a rarity. The last such incident happened nearly sixty years ago. The Department of Magic Sciences determined it had to do with an anomaly in the Sentinel gene.”
“That had to be strange having the two of them around.”
“Changelings aren’t allowed to stay in the havens. The truth of what they are and the existence of the Mystik world are kept from them. My parents were forced to relocate into the human world with her. I’d visit occasionally, but not often. They may look the same but a changeling has their own personality. Much like a clone would. The changeling was a horrid sister. Marietta, on the other hand, was a complete angel.”
“I would’ve been born in the havens if my mom stayed here,”