by Julie Abe
Like ripples in the Constancia Sea, the room hushed, everyone staring up at us.
“I’ve completed my Novice Witch quest.”
Grottel stiffened. “But—”
“I shielded Auteri, home of the Festival of Lights, from the Culling,” I said.
Grottel looked at my mother accusingly. “I’d assumed it was Nela—”
“I was here in Okayama, guarding the capital while you were too busy up north to help.” The faintest of smiles danced on Mother’s lips. “I did not step foot into Auteri until Eva’s quest window was up.”
“I saved Auteri. Because of my magic, Mayor Taira recommends that I receive my Novice rank.” I revealed the five pages full of signatures, one at a time, watching the anger on Grottel’s face melt into something strange, something I’d never seen before—disbelief. The ink felt enchanted, like I was being filled with the steadfast faith that the townspeople of Auteri had felt when they’d signed my application. “You asked for the town leader to sign. I got a signature from her and the rest of the town.”
Grottel spluttered. “With just one apprenticeship—I got reports that Nela swooped in to save you, girl—”
A tinkle of crystal chimes sounded through the air, and I frowned in confusion.
I gaped as a familiar-looking woman in a clean-cut uniform, as pale as the crystal walls of the queen’s castle, stepped through the side door. Princess Stella had a thin silver circlet resting on her hair. She winked at me, but I couldn’t summon up a response. The magicless were not allowed into the Council Hall unless—
“Announcing Her Royal Highness, Queen Alliana, our chosen ruler of Rivelle Realm,” Princess Stella declared, pounding a long wood staff on the tiles.
She stepped aside and Queen Alliana swept into the room, her head held high, scanning the hall.
“Queen Alliana,” I whispered breathlessly, sinking into a deep bow. All around us, even Grottel, bowed.
The queen took long, proud steps to the front of the room, her bright robes of the central farmlands, vibrant red-orange and patterned with intricate yellow flowers, floating around her like she was a fireblossom dancing on the sea’s waves. It was my first time seeing the queen up close. She had a strong jaw and fierce eyes, and she was strikingly beautiful, almost ethereal. Queen Alliana was only a few years older than my mother, but there were wrinkles at the corner of her eyes and threads of silver in her dark hair, like she’d aged forty years’ time, instead of the twenty years that had passed since ascending to the crown. Still, something in the way Queen Alliana carried herself made it seem like she was born to the throne.
The queen met Mother’s eyes, and in the flash of a second, I swore there was a sense of sadness radiating from the queen. But I shook my head. I’m just too nervous about my Novice ceremony. I’m overthinking everything.
“It seems that Eva deserves her license.” Queen Alliana settled into a crystal throne that a few of her attendants had carried out. Her lips, painted a beautiful dark crimson, turned up as she smiled at Grottel. “Thank you for including me in these celebrations.”
Grottel looked as if he severely regretted inviting her.
She turned to the hushed crowd and waved her hand, as if casting a spell of her own. Princess Stella announced, “You may now be seated.”
We filed to the seats, our clothes whispering like ghosts brushing against the oak chairs as we sat.
At the dais in the center, Grottel was quiet, as if he was still waiting for permission to speak. But he scratched at his wrists as though he could barely wait. Yet the queen held the attention of all in the room, even my mother, who sat with her hands clasped in her lap, and Ember, who peeked out from behind my legs to quietly peer up at her.
She breathed in deep and said, “It is my first time meeting a few of you”—her gaze drifted over to Conroy, sitting across the room, and then met mine. I nearly melted under the strength of her dark brown eyes—“and I am glad to see you all for such auspicious reasons. I thank you all for serving the realm by blood and soul.”
We all nodded eagerly. Even Grottel’s gaunt cheeks seemed a bit pink, effusive from the queen’s praise, as he began reading through the Council’s commandments, talking about the quest Conroy and I had undergone over the past moon to earn our new rank.
The ceremony was like a dream.
But it was real, which meant it was better than any dream.
Norya, Grottel’s assistant, scribbled out something on stiff, small rectangular parchment cards. Grottel motioned for everyone to clap for what seemed like days as Conroy sauntered up to the dais and accepted his license. With a flick of Conroy’s wand, his shirt took on a bronze hue, and the crowd cheered louder.
I kept clapping, but shifted in my seat. Ember poked his nose against me questioningly, as if he was waiting impatiently, too. Finally, Conroy managed to remember that he wasn’t actually supposed to stay preening under the attention in the center of the room forever and found his way back to his seat.
Then Grottel said, “The other recipient.”
“Evalithimus Evergreen,” the queen offered from her throne.
He waved me up with a stiff hand. “Come here.”
Grottel shoved the card into my waiting hand. Then he leaned over, and I could smell his peculiar scent, stinging my nose like the antiseptic that Father used to clean my cuts.
“We’ll see if you can keep your license.”
He spoke so quickly I thought I’d imagined it. With that, he poked me in the shoulder to spin me around and sent me back to my seat.
It was all so fast that there was only a smattering of applause.
But then Mother stood up, shoulders straight and tall, clapping louder and louder, and Princess Stella pounded her staff. Then the rest of the witches and wizards joined in until the noise seemed to shake the roof. Even Queen Alliana clapped. I beamed back at the bright faces of my fellow witches and wizards, feeling like the light trickling in through the glass windows had filled my body, warming my heart.
I—I was one of them now.
A low growl from Grottel cut through the symphony of applause. And when I looked over my shoulder, his eyes were still narrowed, as if studying me for a weakness. As if he was a hawk, about to swoop down on its prey.
But receiving my license made me want to float up to the rooftops, above the thick clouds and into the sky.
And seeing my mother’s eyes shine back at me?
That—that meant everything.
The moment I got back to my chair, Ember jumped into my lap to examine my license.
“Not edible.” I took one long look, memorizing every word, before tucking it into the front pocket of my knapsack, far away from Ember’s sharp teeth.
EVALITHIMUS EVERGREEN OFFICIAL MEMBER OF RIVELLE REALM’S COUNCIL OF WITCHES AND WIZARDS NOVICE WITCH, REPAIR AFFINITY
Good until twelve moons’ time, when aforementioned witch is required to undergo the Adept Quest.
Grottel grumbled his closing statement. “Congratulations to the recipient—ah, recipients—of the Novice ceremony.” His eyes, glued to Conroy, flickered reluctantly to me as he added, “And remember, the choices of our young Novices can define the future of the realm.”
Grottel dismissed the meeting by ringing the bell. “It’s time for Novice Nytta and Novice Evergreen to summon their leaves outside.”
The mist from the Torido Rivers gathered on the branch in front of me, glistening like a gem. I breathed on both water and wood, urging it to life.
On the other side of the Novice tree, Conroy muttered a spell under his breath and prodded the dewdrop in front of him with his wand. It tinkled like glass. His leaf formed instantly with a sharp bronze point, and he looked up gloatingly, meeting my eyes, as the crowd burst into cheers.
Close to my boots, Ember growled, expressing my thoughts exactly.
Of course Conroy would get his leaf first.
I curled my fingers around my wand, wishing I could enchant my leaf to dia
mond and gold like my mother’s, which waved faintly in the wind. At the front of the crowd, Mother smiled encouragingly at me.
I turned to my branch and pressed the tip of my wand to it. I didn’t have a clever enchantment, so I spoke the truth. “I’ve passed my Novice quest. I need to summon my leaf so I can use my magic to help my friends. Please. I need to help them.”
Thoughts of Davy carefully placing his folded paper flowers into the sea floated into my memory. And Charlotte, her face fierce and unyielding, refusing to show pity for herself, as she’d told me the story of how she’d gotten to Auteri.
This was for them.
And, truthfully, this was for me, too.
To show that I deserved this. That I’d fought for this with my blood, sweat, and tears, through the most frightening of storms and against even the most skeptical of mayors or meddlers. To show that someone like me could make her own dreams come true.
A spell finally came to mind. “The end of a journey is bittersweet. Yet to start anew, let this be complete.”
The water stretched out, mixing with sap from the tree and shimmering into a bronze leaf. It wavered in the faint breeze, tinkling with the rest of the leaves, as lines formed in the metal like molten bronze, spelling out two words I’d waited to see all my life.
Evalithimus Evergreen.
I, Evalithimus Evergreen, a girl with just a pinch of magic, was now a semi-magical witch.
EPILOGUE
A SPELL TO REMEMBER
As I stood in front of the Novice tree, trying to memorize every detail of my very own shimmering bronze leaf, Mother wrapped her arm around my shoulders.
“Shall we go celebrate?” she asked.
The crowd had long since returned to their mugs of hot tea and to demolishing the piles of fluffy cinnamon crescents, as fast as the bakers could drizzle on sticky-sweet icing.
I shook my head. “I want just a moment more. I’ll join you soon.”
It didn’t quite feel like it was time to celebrate just yet. A flickering fire burned within me, unquenched.
In my pocket, something rustled, as if answering my thoughts. My fingers brushed against the folded map and a pointed edge poked at my skin, as if admonishing me for forgetting it for so long. Gently, I slid it out, and my chest clenched.
Charlotte had folded it into a shield, like the ones we’d made to protect Auteri.
I wanted, no, I needed to help Charlotte and Davy.
At my feet, Ember whined, pawing at me. His wide eyes stared up at me, full of faith. As if Charlotte and Davy had entrusted him to remind me of what they would say.
You’ve done good for Auteri, Eva.
You have real magic.
“I can do something, can’t I?” I said slowly. “I can try the spell again and again, just like my attempts with the waterproofing potion.”
Pulling my wand out of my pocket, I stepped behind the cover of the trees, away from the celebrating crowd. For this, I wanted to be surrounded with just the roar of the rivers in my ears and the gentle mist coating my skin. Somehow, it felt like my skin burned under its touch, like the Torido Rivers were testing me, too.
The spell I’d cast on the map with Mother swirled in my mind. But for a spell I’d cast on my own, I had to use only my words, for my friends that meant the world to me. For Davy, who’d always believed in me. And for Charlotte, who’d taught me to believe in myself.
With my wand pressed to the paper, I slowly chanted, “A search for two friends close to my heart, show their parents so they will never be apart.”
A breeze blew through the Council trees, sending the leaves twinkling like a haunting melody, and my skin prickled.
The map was empty. Just the same sharp ink lines marking cities and mountains, landmarks and rivers. This time, it seemed that even Davy’s father wouldn’t show.
Then, suddenly, the parchment glimmered with a faint golden sheen, and I nearly dropped the map from surprise. Scarlet and gold swirls gathered over a tall, forbiddingly dark tower in the forests of the north. The glowing ink marks twisted and surged like a rising storm, straight toward Okayama and then down to Auteri, where the ink stayed for a few seconds, growing brighter.
Then the moving lights vanished, leaving only the gold marker for Davy’s father, blinking faintly in Auteri.
I spun around. Before I could say a word, Mother’s eyes met mine through the trees, instantly widening with concern. With a flick of her wand, her tin mug zipped away to a tea vendor’s empty tray and she hurried over. “What is it?”
“It’s… it’s doing something.” I lifted the map in my shaking hands, and she stared down with confusion.
Again, scarlet and gold ink blinked from the forests in the north, swirling over the unnamed tower and lake. The path continued to Okayama and down to Auteri, and then the glowing ink melted away.
Mother tilted her head to the side and tapped her finger against the parchment. “How can this path go over water? Maybe they’re on a ship?”
We stared at the map, lost in thought.
I traced my finger along that strange route: from the forbiddingly dark tower, down the coast, and out toward the open sea. I still didn’t understand what it meant, yet it was familiar, somehow. I’d seen it before. Or heard of it.
“It’s the path of the Culling,” I gasped. “It hit the coast by Okayama first and then went down the coast toward Auteri.”
Mother covered her mouth with a pale, shaking hand, silent with shock.
“But… but… how can Charlotte and Davy’s parents be in the storm?” My hands shook as I brushed my fingertip around the tower and wide lake, surrounded by thick trees. “And what’s this place to the north, where it’s coming from?”
Mother flicked her wand at the map. “Show me here and now, show me what’s all around.”
Light shot out from the tip of her wand like sunrays streaming through the clouds, and spidery gold lines crept over the parchment, listing city names and rivers. I could almost smell Father’s buttery croissants when my parents’ house appeared as The Evergreens’ home. I grimaced as a tiny house that formed in the southern farmlands, west of Auteri’s cliffs, was marked as Conroy Nytta’s house.
Then a name appeared above the tower and wide lake in the north. The gold and scarlet ink gathered around the tower, like a pool of shimmering tears and ruby blood.
Hayato Grottel’s tower.
Ice filled my chest. “Grottel—and the Culling?”
“Hayato,” Mother croaked. “He just went with the queen to the castle. For a private meeting. He barred anyone other than his closest confidants in the Council. I thought it was unusual, but who was I to say.…”
It felt like all the air had been cursed out of the world. I looked toward the crystal castle, its shimmering spires sparkling with light. Somewhere inside, Queen Alliana was face-to-face with the person who might very well be responsible for trying to destroy the realm.
“We need to find her, now. If Grottel started the Culling…” I stared down at the illustration of Grottel’s tower, and the fading, dying path of flickering scarlet and gold swirls. “The queen’s in danger.”
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you, dear reader, for reading Eva’s story—thanks to you, Eva can weather the worst of storms.
Sarah Landis, I think the best way to describe everything you’ve done for me is… you’re secretly my fairy godmother, aren’t you?! Thank you, Sarah, for making my wildest dreams come true.
Thank you to Alvina Ling, the most magical editor for Eva that I could have ever hoped or dreamed for. As Rin said, “To me, that one chance was the world.” And, Alvina, that was you, completely. You and the team at Hachette a
nd Little, Brown Books for Young Readers have changed my life.
Sending endless thanks to Ruqayyah Daud—you deserve all the contomelon rolls in the realm!
Thank you to the Hachette and LBYR teams for wholeheartedly championing Eva, including Megan Tingley, Jackie Engel, Tom Guerin, Janelle DeLuise, Cameron Chase, Hannah Koerner, Karina Granda, Sarah Van Bonn, Nikki Garcia, Jen Graham, Andy Ball, Erika Breglia, Emilie Polster, Stefanie Hoffman, Natali Cavanagh, Savannah Kennelly, Valerie Wong, Christie Michel, Paula Benjamin-Barner, Shawn Foster, Danielle Cantarella, Siena Koncsol, the sales team, the publicity team, and many, many more.
Shan Jiang, I am absolutely in awe of your talent and dedication to making the intricate, beautiful artwork that brings Eva to life. Thank you so much.
Sending the deepest appreciation to the booksellers, teachers, librarians, and bloggers who have supported Eva. And thank you for all that you do for your students and readers.
Thank you to Mom and Dad, and my family all around the world, for their steadfast belief in my dreams, just like Eva’s parents. And Momo is the best real-world Ember (who decided she belonged in my life).
Sending virtual bottomless fries and genmaicha to Sarah Suk, unimersharks and more ice cream to Chelsea Ichaso, awesomeness and Honey & Butter macarons to Susan Lee and Tara Tsai, a mountain of chocolate mousse to Sarah Harrington and Carly Whetter, an NZ–US teleporter to Graci Kim, oodles of cake and tea dates to Jessica Kim and Grace Shim, endless treats for Daisy and Alyssa Colman, flamefox hugs to Michelle Fohlin and Bridgette Johnson, more game time to Ron Walters, international coffee dates to Meredith Tate, all the hugs to Team Landis and WFC, oceans of hot chocolate to Natasha Buran, and Taehyung to June Tan.
The Author Mentor Match family deserves cloudberry popcorn, especially Sean Easley for taking a shot on a witchy girl and guiding Eva on her journey, my round three mentee family, and the wonderful moderators—Alexa Donne, Liz Parker, and Kevin van Whye.
Fonda Lee, thank you for your words of infinite wisdom. Thank you to SFWA, Julia Rios, and Jessi Cole Jackson for connecting us.