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  Revealing either that Trixie understood my words, or that she didn’t need them in the first place as she was following the lead horse, she resumed her breakneck speed without any further nudging from me.

  I couldn’t believe we had to keep going.... I leaned my face back down into her, allowing my gaze to drop from the panicked expressions of those magicians who rode toward us. There was nothing more than what I was already doing that I could do to help.

  Either I’d die right here—after such a close call!—or I’d survive to train in magic. Whatever the outcome, it wouldn’t depend on me. This was something being decided for me. I didn’t have a say in my survival anymore than I’d had in whether Mordecai would buy me from Uncle.

  I thought I’d even close my eyes as I bounced along on Trixie’s back. But despite my intentions, they flickered open the instant I’d closed them. I snapped my head upward, wishing I could sit fully upright.

  Something big was happening, something I was sure I wanted very much to see.

  The red-haired man and woman held their arms outstretched, either toward us or toward those behind us. The closer they got, the easier it was to see their lips moving as fast as they rode. Then they started pulsing their fingers open and closed, as if flicking water droplets into the air.

  What are they doing?

  Mordecai (I was now certain it was he) held his hands near his chest, palms facing each other. He was building something that very much resembled the magic cannon balls the sorcerers had hurled at us earlier, only his glowed a bright yellow. The bigger the orb of swirls grew, the brighter it glowed.

  Mordecai and the other two magicians were nearly upon us. I figured Marcelo would slow down to meet them. Or he’d turn us around to join them in their... what? Attack of the sorcerers who still managed to follow us? Yes, it had to be.

  But Marcelo neither slowed nor turned.

  Suddenly I was struggling to breathe. If you’ve ever charged on a horse at this speed, in a pack of furiously stampeding horses, while three horses raced toward you at full speed, you might understand how I was feeling. We were on course for head-on impact with our supposed allies, and a dozen horses would trample the broken pieces of our collision.

  I gulped. I wanted to look away, but there was no chance I would. I was mesmerized by the determined expressions of the red-haired magicians. I could barely take my eyes off the swirling ball of magic Mordecai held between his hands like a treasure.

  We were at five seconds to impact.

  My eyes squeezed shut all on their own. Four. Three.

  The sounds encompassing me on all sides were deafening.

  Two. One.

  The footfalls of so many horses were so thunderous that any thought I might have had rattled free in my brain.

  I snapped my eyes open in time to see Mordecai and the two others whip past us, flanking us on the outside.

  Once they passed us, Marcelo veered to the left, and started to slow. “Don’t stop!” he yelled as Trixie passed him. “Keep going no matter what you see. Get inside the house as fast as you can,” he called from behind me.

  His request was likely reasonable, smart even. But I was in no mood for reasonable, maybe not even for smart.

  I was angry at how fearful these sorcerers had made me. How dare they come at me and my brother like this? When we didn’t even know them or a thing about them? And I was curious, so curious. I wasn’t about to miss a show of magic when I was craving to understand so much more about the world I’d been so unceremoniously flung into.

  The riderless horses were already continuing without me toward the house, as if they were obeying the orders I should have been. I slowed Trixie enough that she could turn without hurting herself, and nudged her to follow Marcelo as he raced to join the others.

  When my gaze strayed from the now-retreating sight of the four magicians’ horses, I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. For someone who’d seen more bizarre things combined in one day than ever before in her entire life, that was saying a lot.

  I shook my head to try to clear my vision. But when I looked again, what I saw was the same.

  Twelve Marcelos thundered toward us, murderous looks upon their faces.

  One Marcelo charged toward them.

  Chapter 13

  I prepared myself for another collision. Neither party was slowing, and neither party looked as if it would. But like before, impact never arrived.

  The two sorcerers in the lead launched their magic cannon balls at Mordecai and the two red-haired magicians, who were closer to them than Marcelo and I.

  Mordecai swept his arms apart. His one ball of magic multiplied into several with a series of pops so loud I heard them even over all the horses. He aimed a glowing ball at each of the projectiles the sorcerers had thrown. He intercepted the sorcerers’ balls in mid-air, obliterating them.

  While the two sorcerers hurried to form more magic balls, Mordecai brought both hands beneath two that hovered in front of his chest, keeping pace with his advancing horse. He flicked his cupped palms beneath them in a flourish, where they danced for a split second before he directed them at the two sorcerers.

  His aim was remarkable. The balls of swirling golden light hit their targets dead in the chest. A look of panic crossed the sorcerer’s faces before their expressions seemed to melt into nothing. I watched as the life literally appeared to drain from them.

  Where they’d been full of hate and intent moments before, their faces were now vacuous, as if their personalities had already fled. Mordecai’s ball of magic had disappeared into their chests, but continued to glow within them. The glow was brightest in the center of their chests, but gradually radiating outward from the center in all directions. Even through their clothing, the progress of Mordecai’s magic was apparent.

  When yellow glowed through all parts of their bodies and exposed skin, their eyes shut. Even without understanding Mordecai’s magic, I could tell the sorcerers would never open their eyes again.

  They remained upright in their saddles for several long, drawn-out moments in which I could do nothing but watch them in a mixture of fascination and disgust—it was far too easy to end a life. Then they collapsed as if they were marionettes and the puppet master had suddenly let go of their strings.

  The first fell off to the side right away, but one of his feet got caught in the stirrups. The horse dragged him while continuing to charge toward us. The man bounced like a rag doll, as though he hadn’t just been alive, trying to kill us.

  The second didn’t fall as quickly. He slumped forward in his saddle. His chest pushed against the horn, his face rubbing against his horse’s mane. With each footfall, he bounced. Each time he bounced, his feet slid out of his stirrups a bit. When his feet came completely free, he seemed to remain on the horse, suspended in some kind of delayed animation.

  But then he slid off his horse to one side. He fell to the ground without a sound that I could hear above the din. The horses behind him worked to avoid him. Like a miracle, they managed it, before the riders lost all control of their horses.

  I pulled my eyes away from the first sorcerer’s limp body with difficulty. His arms hung over his head, dragging against the ground.

  The red-haired woman had brought her hands to her sides, while the red-haired man continued to hold his aloft. But one thing was clear, they were both doing magic. Their eyes blazed with focus.

  I was desperate to understand what they were doing when the answer became obvious. The horses charging toward us stopped their progress in mid-stride. It was as if they couldn’t continue.

  The horses’ faces were desperate and panicked, and I felt a stab of lament for them. They were nothing more than pawns in this game, but I didn’t think what the red-haired magicians were doing could be helped. Their advance needed to be halted.

  Their approach evolved into a loud and raucous chaos. Horses reared and whinnied their discontent. Their forelegs came down hard and violently against the drive. A few
horses reared again, some threw their riders.

  But none advanced toward us anymore.

  The magicians in front of me, including Marcelo, began to slow their horses. I was only too happy to do the same. Trixie’s sides heaved and I ran a hand along her sweaty body in what I hoped was a comforting gesture.

  Mordecai and the red-haired magicians drew to a stop twenty feet or so from the sorcerers’ agitated horses. Two fallen sorcerers had regained their feet and looked like they were considering attacking from the ground. One lay on the ground between the horses, groaning in pain and attempting to drag himself to the side.

  “You have no business here.” Mordecai’s steady voice rang out loudly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  The red-haired woman blustered and shook her head. “It goes beyond that. You have no right to be here.” Her words seethed power and anger. “You have violated our sanctity, with no approval to do so. Your attack, your invasion, amounts to an act of war.”

  Her words frightened me, but a part of me still delighted in her power and anger at this transgression.

  The man next to her reached a hand to her shoulder. Was it offered in support or to calm her? “Your actions are misguided. We are not the enemy.”

  “You are when you stand in our way!” one of the Marcelos from the middle of the pack shouted. “The Magical Council has no authority over us anymore, not when it doesn’t approve what’s right for all of us who practice magic.”

  “Your grievance is with the Council, not with us.” Mordecai’s words were stern. “We’re simple magicians, and you’ve banded against us. You’re trying to kill us! Even now. Drop your hands, all of you!”

  I hadn’t even noticed that a few of the sorcerers were discretely moving their hands... and their lips. Will it never end?! My thoughts were as angry as the red-haired woman’s.

  All the Marcelos dropped their hands, but I was watching them closely now. Even the one still dragging himself to the side could likely still perform magic. One from the front said, “You are far from simple magicians, Mordecai.” The man spat the word. “You and Arianne practically are the Magical Council. Our grievances are with you.”

  “The members of the Magical Council are secret,” the red-haired man said. “You have no way of knowing who is on it.”

  The Marcelo started to respond, but he stopped him. “At least none that you can be sure of.”

  “Oh, we’re sure, all right. This old man and this witch are on it, and they’re denying us what is rightfully ours.”

  “And what exactly is rightfully yours?” the red-haired witch asked. Venom laced every one of her words. “The right to hunt and murder innocent magicians? Or is it the right to force people with no concept of our world to do your bidding? Are we to allow you to continue your harm and aggression against humans, when we have the power to stop you?”

  “See,” the same Marcelo said, amid murmurs from his fellow sorcerers. “You admit to being on the Council!”

  “I admit no such thing. I admit to being a human being with a conscience and care for my fellow humans. Your choices do little to distinguish you from monsters.”

  I’d finally drawn close enough to the woman to register the details of her expression from the side, where I hoped to continue escaping everyone’s notice. After all, I was no one, and this woman was stunning, despite her obvious years. But her age was evident more in her composure and strength than in the lines of her face.

  A Marcelo from the back started to say something, but she cut him off. Her stare located him among the others, and she glared at him with the intensity of an eagle. “We’re not going to keep doing this right now. If I have my way, and I usually do, we’ll never have this conversation again. You’re on our land. You’re trespassing, and worse, you’ve attacked us. Your choices are these. My brother and I are about to compel your horses to leave here. They’ll obey us, no matter what magic you attempt to enact to disrupt ours. We’ll allow you to leave with your horses, as long as you agree never to attack any of us again. We’ll even allow you to gather any injured or dead and secure them to a horse before we compel your animals to go.”

  “You can’t expect us to agree never to attack you again. You stand against us! You stand in the way of the progress of magic. We cannot allow that,” a Marcelo said.

  “Then we cannot allow you to leave here alive.”

  “So be it,” the same man said, drawing his hands in front of his chest, but rumbles of disagreement broke out among the others.

  “Wait!” one said. “We need a chance to discuss this.”

  “You have one minute. Not a second longer.”

  While the sorcerers conferred, Mordecai, Arianne, her brother, and Marcelo didn’t move a muscle. All tall on their horses, their gazes didn’t miss a thing. They were prepared for another attack.

  “Your time is up,” Mordecai called out before it seemed that it was.

  The Marcelo who’d said he couldn’t agree to not attacking us in the future, opened his mouth to say something. The two on their horses next to them shut him up with furious glares. Another of the Marcelos said, “We accept your offer. We’ll gather our injured and dead and depart immediately. No need to compel our horses.”

  “Good,” Arianne said. “And your word that you will let this aggression toward us drop?”

  “You have it.” But even to me, with what little I knew, it didn’t look at all like we did.

  “Leave now and don’t ever come back,” Mordecai said. “If you do, I’ll kill you on sight.”

  “I’m sure you will, old man.”

  I bristled at the comment, but the others didn’t. Maybe it was good enough to see them gone, despite their harsh words and empty promises.

  Several of the sorcerers dismounted to help the one who’d managed to crawl away back onto his horse, and to heave the body of the woman sorcerer who’d shot magic cannon balls at us back into her saddle. With her death, whatever spell she’d worked that made her look like Marcelo had eventually died along with her. She looked like a sad woman, who’d died with far too much anger in her heart for peace.

  A sorcerer mumbled words under his breath, and situated her on her saddle with magic and appeared to bind her there with the same. Then he moved to the man who hung from his stirrup, battered from being dragged, and moved him with magic into the saddle and secured him there.

  I wanted to be revolted by the sorcerers’ magic, but I couldn’t manage it. I was fascinated.

  Those who’d fallen reclaimed their saddles, and those who’d gotten down to help got back up. Without another word, they turned their horses toward the gate and kicked them into a canter. The horses, evidently free of Arianne and her brother’s magic, complied.

  Within a minute, they passed the gate and began to fade from sight.

  Finally, my heartbeat slowed and began to steady.

  “Someone has infiltrated our ranks,” Marcelo said right away.

  “I agree,” Arianne’s brother said. “It’s most troubling, but it’s the only logical explanation for how they’d know that our wards allowed exceptions based on the physical appearance of those of us here or those we purposefully invite in. And what’s more,” he leaned forward in his saddle to look at Marcelo, “they must have taken a hair or something else from your person to enact the spell.”

  “I fear you’re right, Gustave,” Marcelo said.

  So Marcelo, Mordecai, Arianne, and Gustave. At least I was learning their names.

  “We’ll worry about that in due time,” Mordecai said. “For now I’ll modify the wards so that no one at all can come or go. But wait, where’s my brother?”

  Marcelo’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I lost track of him when the SMS started chasing us.”

  “He’ll arrive soon. Don’t worry, darling,” Arianne said. “But make sure to allow an exception for him to enter. I doubt anyone in the SMS is capable of imitating a spirit.”

  But Mordecai looked troubled, like all he’d do was worr
y until the spirit of his brother rejoined him.

  “For now, let’s head in. Your horses look like they desperately need rest, and I’m sure the girl would appreciate being settled.”

  “The girl?” Marcelo whipped his head toward me. From his shock, it was clear I’d managed to escape his notice. “You were supposed to go to the house,” he said to me. “I told you to.”

  “You did,” I said, but refused to apologize for my disobedience. I wasn’t even sure I owed this man obedience. Besides, he couldn’t expect me to follow every blind order when I understood nothing of what was going on.

  His look told me he’d been trying to save my life, but I didn’t back down. I held his accusing eyes and my chin high.

  Arianne chuckled, and it was a delightful sound, as if we weren’t here because sorcerers, who possessed dark magic and had no qualms about taking lives, had just attacked. “I think I’m going to like this girl. She has spirit.”

  “Just what we need, another spirited female in the house,” Mordecai grumbled, but his heart wasn’t into it. If I had to guess, he adored Arianne.

  The red-haired woman’s horse moved forward and around to face me without any evident direction from her. She smiled bright cherry lips and a bit of the weight lifted from my heart. I didn’t figure she’d smile at me like this if Nando’s condition hadn’t improved.

  “Welcome to Acquaine, darling. Now let’s get you settled in before it gets dark. Explanations can wait until we’re inside. Follow me.”

  Her horse, a magnificent animal, led the way. I turned Trixie to follow.

  Magic awaited.

  Winged Pursuit - Book 2

  Isadora’s adventures are only just beginning. Read what happens next in book 2 of the Magical Arts Academy, available for preorder now.