Unleashed Magic (The Chronicles of Andar Book 1) Read online

  Unexpected Magic

  The Chronicles of Andar

  Laura Drake

  Copyright © 2019 by Laura Drake

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Andarian Days of the Week

  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

  Sneak Peek

  What Now?

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  I’m so grateful to everyone who helped me get this far to accomplish my dream of becoming an author. From my amazing cover designer, Maria Spada, to my team of readers, and my family who listened to me talk about writing non-stop (#sorrynotsorryfamily), I owe this book to so many people.

  Andarian Days of the Week

  Luxday

  Aquaday

  Ignisday

  Terraday

  Aerisday

  Noxday

  Chapter 1

  I was born dead.

  You would think their baby having a near-death experience would make my parents more grateful to have a daughter, even if my heart only stopped for a few seconds before a nearby healer restarted it with their magic.

  But nope.

  I leaned against the wall and one hand rubbed the spot over my heart while my other hand held my parents' letter. If they were thankful for my existence, maybe Herb and Lilian would actually decide to come and visit me sometime instead of sending another measly letter.

  The clocktower across campus chimed eight times, warning students that we’d soon be late for the orientation assembly.

  I shoved my parents’ letter into the box where I kept all the others I’d received over the years and blew out a breath.

  Ivy hummed as she got ready in our shared bathroom, her cheerful song reminding me that I had no reason to complain. At least my parents were still alive.

  I shook my head and pounded on the bathroom door before pushing it open a few inches.

  Her reflection grinned at me, face bright. “You should go ahead. I’ll be a few more minutes.”

  The winter uniform complemented her skin tone, making her more radiant than the average...anyone. The gold sweater contrasted with the navy blazer, brightening her golden hair and bringing out the piercing blue in her eyes. Her extra four inches of height made her appear lithe and willowy and made me seem like a frumpy little dwarf at her side.

  I pulled on my skirt and tucked my hair behind my ears. “Ivy, it’s the first day of the term, not the Elemental Ball. Get your butt out here and let’s go.”

  She flicked her hand toward me, spraying me with water from the tips of her fingers.

  Brat. I shivered and used my uniform tie to wipe off the freezing liquid. “It’s not like you’re even interested in any of the boys at school. I don’t know why you bother.”

  She knotted her light blue tie. “Why would you think I’m not interested in anyone?”

  I scoffed. As if she didn’t know. “You literally just told me yesterday about that poor boy you rejected before break. What was his name?”

  She grimaced. “Eli.”

  “What was wrong with him?”

  “Too short.”

  “And what about Jared last year?”

  She touched up her makeup. “He only talked about himself.”

  I folded my arms and tapped my toes. I wasn’t letting her off that easily. “And Alek?”

  She stepped back and looked over her outfit in the mirror. “He was boring.”

  “Okay, well what about Kris? He seemed nice enough.”

  “Kris was too…” She scrunched up her nose. “Blond.”

  I barely held back my laugh. “You do realize that most of those weren’t legitimate reasons, right?””

  She shuddered. “You just don’t pee in the school pool, Em.”

  I stared at her for a few seconds. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, you don’t date fellow students unless they’re, like, a one-in-a-million guy.” She shrugged one shoulder and picked up her hairbrush with a frown. “Not to mention how awkward it’d be once you break up and keep running into them. Besides, you know dating a Magical isn’t a good idea. We’re still too young to Bind.”

  I sighed. The Binding was a life-changing event that wasn’t even legal until a Magical turned eighteen. “Do you ever think about it? The binding kiss, I mean?”

  I had never kissed anyone myself, but I was convinced that boys with dimples made better kissers. And it had nothing to do with my personal preference. At all. Cute, sexy dimples.

  “Why bother when we can’t kiss for two more years?” She paused. “Well, we can’t kiss Magicals.” She winked, and I broke into a fit of giggles.

  “Please, like we even have the chance to kiss any Mundanes. We rarely even see any. You’re better off dating someone you can spend time with.”

  She ignored my comment and narrowed her eyes, pointing her brush at me like an accusation. “I don’t want to get a lecture on boys from you. Someone could literally write you a love letter, and you’d probably assume it was for someone else and they’d simply spelled their name wrong.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s ridiculous, and not true at all.” Besides, who’d be interested in someone they’d never have a chance to Bind with?

  She mumbled something incomprehensible.

  I sighed and sat on my bed before tilting my head back. If she was going to be late, then so was I. No way was I walking into the assembly alone. “Why don’t you get up a few minutes earlier? I swear you end up almost running late to the assembly every year.”

  Ivy pulled her hair back, testing out a few different styles. “A girl needs her beauty sleep, Em.”

  I choked on a laugh. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up so late, looking at pictures of shirtless men on your communication crystal.”

  A puddle of water snaked across the floor and froze the bottom of my shoe to the ground before I could move out of the way.

  I grunted and tried to free my foot. “Real mature, Ivy.”

  Ivy giggled from the bathroom, and I couldn’t help but smile. She was the sister I’d always wanted, but was my opposite in most ways—blond to my brown, tall to my short, extrovert to my introvert, and most importantly, actually magical—yet we were inseparable.

  I leaned back against my pile of pillows. Thank goodness I’d met her my first day there. It had been one of the only bright spots of that day. As an eight-year-old, I’d been unprepared to handle the news that’d change my life forever.

  The door creaked, announcing the headmistress’ arrival as she strode to the desk with short, purposeful steps. She picked up a small stack of papers and began to flip through them while I squirmed in the corner.

  “Have a seat.”

  She gestured to a wooden chair in the center of the room. The office had a desk, a few worn armchairs with inviting cushions, and stacks of precariously-perched papers on most surfaces. The large bookshelf along one of the walls made my fingers twitch to pick up a book, settl
e into a chair, and lose myself in reading about an adventure instead of facing one.

  I walked to the indicated chair, each step across the small office seeming to last a mile. “What should I do?” I wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt. My heart pounded erratically in my chest.

  She came and stood in front of the chair. “Relax, Emmaline. This will be over soon. We’re going to test your magic.” Her words were almost drowned out by the thump of my heart.

  The words ‘test’ and ‘magic’ in the same sentence made my pulse race, and my chest tightened. I tried not to fidget when four other adults walked in and surrounded my chair in a solemn circle. They held their hands out, encasing me in their arms. The room was too small for all these adults and their magic, and me.

  “I will begin now.” The headmistress bowed her head and chanted in an odd language, her voice lilting over the syllables. Her hands glowed brightly, reflecting off her white shirt, and the chanting grew louder, releasing a strange fluttering in my stomach.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and sweat beaded my forehead. A quivering sensation took flight inside of me, growing until feelings of joy flowed through me and my soul overflowed with sunlight. Its happiness and warmth erased all my concerns until suddenly, it was gone.

  Wait! Come back.

  I wrapped my arms around myself to counter the cold, empty feeling its absence left behind.

  A man in blue took over chanting. Beneath closed eyelids, I sensed the glow transfer from her hands to his. The brightness dimmed, and the temperature dropped. I shivered and cracked an eye open. I quickly opened the other and stared in wide-eyed wonder. Little droplets of water twirled and skipped in the air around me. Their soundless dance teased and beckoned me.

  The voice changed to the lady in green, and the water droplets disappeared. The wooden chair shifted beneath me, and I started. Its firm back was like a stern hug from someone who would never let me down. Then it froze, and my stomach fell. It couldn’t leave me.

  Please stay!

  After the chanting transitioned to the man in red, a tiny ball of flame materialized in front of me. A fire flower bloomed in mere seconds, enticing me with its warm glow. I reached toward it, but it floated away. Tears stung my eyes, and my stomach twisted. Why was I always left behind?

  The lady in yellow took over the chanting. I closed my eyes again. Tears trickled down my cheeks and salted my lips. My heart sank. Whatever was next would leave too, abandoning me like the others.

  A warm tendril of air stroked my cheek and playfully wove itself between locks of my hair. Tingles spread down my arms, and my eyes flew open, but the circle of adults looked the same, with their hands locked and eyes closed in concentration. It lasted a few more seconds before the chanting stopped.

  My breath whooshed out, interrupting the newfound stillness in the room. Shoulders slumped, I eyed every adult in the room. The silence was deafening.

  The lady in yellow didn’t hesitate. “No.”

  My stomach churned.

  “No.” The man in red looked at me with narrowed eyes, and my hands trembled.

  The lady in green simply shook her head, and a lump formed in my throat.

  “No,” confirmed the man in blue.

  The headmistress stared at everyone before settling her troubled gaze on me.

  Biting my lip, I twisted a finger in a strand of hair and tugged on it lightly.

  Did it mean I didn’t have any magic?

  “Well?” The man in red tapped his foot and glanced at a list on the wall where names were written and assigned a color. “Spit it out so we can record it and move on to the next child.”

  “No?” It was hard to tell if she was asking them or telling them. Every gaze snapped to her and mine followed.

  “What do you mean, ‘no’?” I flinched at the man in red’s sharp tone. “She has to be a Light Magical. She wasn’t any of the others.”

  The headmistress squared her shoulders and looked each adult in the eyes. “No, she wasn’t white.”

  “Then why did you sound so hesitant?” The lady in green’s voice was soft and sweet. She addressed the headmistress, but her gaze shifted back to me.

  “Well, it was odd. At first, it felt like her magic wanted to respond, but then it just didn’t.” She drifted off contemplatively, and a hush settled over the group.

  “What should we do?” The lady in green’s hands fluttered about her like baby birds in flight. “Which academy do we assign her to? Can she join the Light Academy if her magic almost responded to it?”

  “No.” The headmistress shook her head decisively before walking back to her desk. “This is a dilemma we haven’t faced before.” She picked up the stack of papers from earlier.

  “Was her enrollment a mistake?” The man in blue walked to the wall to study the chart. “Maybe she’s actually from Ellion.”

  My heart quivered. Was I a Mundane?

  “No, I’m sure this is the place for her.” Her tone was even and patient.

  My heart began its limping rhythm again.

  “She’s Delegate Lyland’s daughter.” The headmistress’s troubled gaze studied me, her brows drawn together. Her weighty stare pinned me in place.

  “This is getting us nowhere,” the man in red announced. “Let’s just pick an academy for her to join and move on to the next child.”

  “But she doesn’t belong in any of them. How will we choose?” The words seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room.

  I winced and shook my head. Eight years later, and I still hadn’t figured out if I belonged at Ackley Institute or not.

  Ivy opened the door with an exaggerated flourish and grabbed her bag. “Ready to go?”

  I tugged on my frozen shoe with a pointed look in her direction, and Ivy covered her snicker with a cough. She snapped her fingers and the ice under my shoe melted into a puddle of water.

  She opened the door and waited in the hall, her blue eyes dancing. “Really, Emmie, I wish you wouldn’t keep making us late.”

  I joined her and a girl hurried past, fixing her red tie and straightening her skirt. She did a double take, slowed down, and turned around with a smile at Ivy. “Oh, hey, Ivy.”

  Ivy shot her a bright grin and looped her arm through mine. “Hey, Kara.”

  I looked at my shoes. It was too early to deal with other people.

  Kara looked between us and offered a hesitant, “Hi, Emmie,” before rushing off.

  Ivy squeezed my arm with hers. “You should’ve greeted her.”

  I waved toward the door. “She was practically outside before I had a chance.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t even try. You’ll never get over your stuttering if you don’t practice.”

  I bit my lip to hold in my response and pushed open the outside door. Just because it was true didn’t mean I wanted to hear it.

  Outside, low clouds hung over the sky like a heavy smoky blanket, and campus bustled with students in a sea of white shirts, navy jackets, and gray bottoms. Their colorful ties parted around us in waves of red, blue, green, and yellow. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed my tense shoulders. The clean, crisp air that was so common in the white season matched my mood for the first day of school.

  A brisk wind blew across the ground, and Ivy’s hair whipped me in the face.

  I brushed it off. “This is what I get for standing too close to you.”

  Ivy tucked her hair into her coat and turned up her collar. “Hail and ice, it’s cold out here.” She cast a smile my way and twirled her finger through the air, water droplets like a clear snake collecting behind her finger.

  I bumped her shoulder. “Knock it off. It’s unnatural to be so excited on the first day back.”

  She pulled her lips down in a fake frown. “You’re right. I should be mopey like you.”

  I snorted. “I’m not mopey. I’m realistic.”

  We stepped behind the dorms for the younger grades, and the high, sweeping arches and columns provided partial coverage from the w
ind. The beautiful red brick stood out against the bare trees and dead grass. My feet slowed.

  I cupped my hands in front of my face and blew on them. “I can’t wait for green season, when it won't be so cold.” In almost every season except this one, campus was beautiful: the bright spots of flowers in green season at the start of the year, the way the lawn slowly changed to emerald in yellow season; and the trees shedding their green and yellow leaves for vibrant oranges and crimsons in red season just before the temperature dropped as white season returned. But even in white season, campus had a cold beauty to it; the red buildings stood out against the blanket of snow that often covered the ground.

  “I don’t mind the cold. It feels like home.” Ivy looked around, and a corner of her mouth turned down. “But there should be more snow. We always have snow in Dahning at this time of the year.” She wiggled her fingers above us and small delicate flakes flurried around us in response.

  I held out my tongue to catch one and spun in a circle, bumping into two girls. “S-sorry,” I mumbled and mentally face-palmed myself for stuttering. It slipped out whenever I was surprised or uncomfortable.

  The girl with the red tie threw me an exasperated look as the fire in her hand puffed out. She cupped a flame between her hands, holding it between her and her friend and sharing the warmth. They turned away from me and resumed their walk, hunching their shoulders as another biting gust of wind blew across campus.

  I ignored the grin peeking out on Ivy’s face. “I think of our trip to your house every time it snows. That visit was so fun.” I sighed. “I love Delegate Hart. Your grandmother was seriously one of the best parts of that trip.”

  Ivy shot me a sideways look. “You know, she’s always asking when you’re going to come visit again.”