Chapter one

Cristal Tisdale had never given Luke Washington a second glance before. She had never seen any real reason to. He was just… there. Jeans-clad, crew-cut, and basketball-practice bound. Gray eyes, light brown hair, and warm smile. Nothing special, nothing strange, nothing out of the ordinary.

Or so she thought. For Cristal Tisdale thought the exact same of herself— she was plain, quiet, and unnoticed, and that was just the way she liked it. However, on that day, something happened. Something that made her give Luke Washington another glance… as well as herself, her family, and even life itself. His ear was glowing. Well, not his ear, exactly—it was more like his earring. He had one ear pierced with a small diamond-and-gold stud— not at all unusual for a thirteen-year-old boy living in Bayside. But that morning (eluding his notice, of course, because by the time he was riveted enough from his almost-eternal state of laziness and tiredness to notice his mismatched socks, let alone his earring, he was far from a mirror), the stud shone brighter than Pennelline Silver’s eyes.

Yes… Pennelline Silver. Cristal instinctively shifted her probing gaze from Luke to the outgoing, colorful, bright person sitting across the room, writing something with a violet pen and adjusting the headphones on her ears. You would hardly guess that eyes as bright blue and alive could be spawned from two strict, uptight, and brown-eyes lawyers like Dean and Annette Silver. But at that moment, something caught her eye—a faint glow illuminating the ebony desk upon which Pennelline was resting her left hand. Apparently, Luke Washington was not the only one who merited a private second look. What was that on her hand? It looked like a ring.

Sure enough, when Pennelline drew her hand off of the desk and towards her headphones, the large band on her finger came into full view. The silver band was washed with gold, the circular diamond perched atop it encased within a thin shell of the same— and it was shining. “Now that is too weird…,” Cristal murmured, especially when, later that day, she managed an extra glance into her compact mirror and realized that the design matched precisely with Pennelline’s ring and Luke’s earring (she guessed that she had just never really paid enough attention to either of them to notice)… and was shining brighter than the sun blazing outside of the bay classroom window.

*          *          *

Despite the strange occurrence of the simultaneously glowing rings, Cristal’s day ran quite ordinary. She slipped through each class subtly and easily, navigating the bustling hallways with an ease and grace so perfect and simple, it seemed as if she was just a wisp of smoke. Cristal scored amazingly high on a particularly difficult math exam, breezed through seven sheets of work on the heterogeneous and homogeneous qualities of different substances in Chemistry, and mastered a new piece in Orchestra.

However, this constant stream of exceptional work was not new to her— only a month into eighth grade, and she was already being bombarded with questions and pleads of tutoring from the idiotic sports players who felt that their time was better spent on a field playing with balls than at their desks, studying. So here she was… sitting in last period English, copying notes from the dusty chalkboard, barely discerning the teacher’s cramped, straight hand, when her necklace began to vibrate. Within seconds, the vibration was joined by a faint humming noise, which was growing louder with each passing moment.

By the time her page was completely filled with notes about hyperboles and their uses in Haikus, Cristal’s necklace was emitting a buzzing so loud that the teacher (and practically every student in the class) had turned to stare at her. The only two people not staring at her were Luke Washington and Pennelline Silver, who were staring curiously at each other. For their jewelry was also humming and glimmering… or at least they were, until they sucked the three into an instantly-appearing bright green tornadoes and were gone, leaving the students (and teacher) still sitting, mouthed agape with shock and faces registering complete and utter disbelief.

Chapter two

        Cristal was frightened, disoriented, and confused as she re-gained her footing and attempted (in vain) to calm her stressed, worried mind. Mere moments before, she had been copying down notes in English, trying to write as much as possible to transfer onto her new index cards, and the next thing she knew, she was being tossed about in what seemed like a six-foot, bright green tornado. This had gone on for about ten seconds, and then slowly began to calm, until she found herself lying face down on a freezing stone floor. Afraid of what she would find, she could not open her eyes. It was as if she had a physical handicap. Once the intense feelings of nausea and dizziness began to ebb away, however, Cristal managed to dreg up a bit of courage, scan the room once, and immediately squeeze her eyes tightly shut again. She dared not believe what she saw: there had been funny-looking people dressed in traveling cloaks and billowing robes in the most elaborate colors, sipping unfamiliar drinks and muttering odd words. She thought she had heard an old man discussing the cost of unicorn horns, but she was obviously hearing things. Unicorns belonged in fairy tales and folklore, like the kinds her little sister liked to listen to. Unfortunately, however, Cristal had to face the fact that she must open up her eyes again eventually, so, preparing herself for the very worst, she retreated from her shielded domain of safety and ventured into a strange, unfamiliar world of mystery and (possible) danger. The odd people were still there, some giving her funny looks.

At that moment, she realized how utterly ridiculous she must look, laying face-down upon the cold, gray stone floor of this odd place; however, she did not seem to be the only one there. Lying eagle-spread on the flagged stone floor next to her were Luke Washington and Pennelline Silver. “What are you two doing here? For God’s sake, what am I doing here!”

“I think tha—“Luke began, obviously still a bit shaken from the instantaneous tornado-journey, but was interrupted, predictably, by the ever-talking Pennelline. “Well, all I know is that one minute I was in class, and my ring was glowing brighter and brighter and brighter until there was this huge blast and then I was in this weird green swirly thingy and now I’m here.” For a moment, no one spoke, just stared wearily at the massive space in front of them. Quite soon, however, Pennelline seemed to decide that the silence had been held out for too long, and so she followed up her little speech with a curious, suspicious “So where is here?” Cristal hadn’t the faintest inkling as to their current whereabouts (Luke’s expression told her that he was feeling the same), so they decided to have a good (but stationary) look around. The building seemed to be a hotel, or an uncharacteristically large inn. The lobby in which they were sitting had a dark gray stone floor and cathedral ceilings, from which hung hundreds of enormous, shimmering chandeliers in colors from vivid, poisonous red to pale, pastel lilac. Magnificent tapestries and portraits adorned the walls, and what must have been a hundred circular ebony tables were gathered in the middle of the room, atop a red and gold oriental rug roughly the size of a swimming pool. At the back of the room, a tall, handsome mahogany table stretched the length of the wall, behind which stood six breathtakingly beautiful women, each perched behind a different portion of the desk, and each wearing sweeping robes of pale pink embroidered with a different number. A sign mounted on the wall behind the middle of the table read:

SCARLET NOTE GUEST ASSISTANCE

ONE………. Check in

TWO………. Check out

THREE………. Room Service

FOUR………. Portravel

FIVE………. Restaurant

SIX………. Other Inquiries

After several more moments of silent staring, Cristal raised herself up and dusted herself off. She was just reaching down to help Pennelline when the sound of frantic cries began echoing off of the stone walls. “Dad! Dad! Help! I can’t find them anywhere!” Moments later, the anxious caller came into view as she careened down the length of the room and stopped at one of the more polished tables in the center occupied by a tall, balding man with wispy red hair, a thin frame, and small blue eyes. “Dad, three new names just appeared on the Tapestry and they’re yellow and I can’t find them anywhere! They won’t know where they are or who they are and are obviously lost and probably confused and mom told me to find them and bring them to her and they’re not here! Where could they be?”

“Did you check in here?” the red-haired man the girl called dad inquired bemusedly, his sweeping arms an indication of the spacious main room. “No…” she muttered, embarrassed and still winded, scanning the bustling scene in front of her anxiously. Then, with an excited squeak, she spotted the three newcomers still overtaken by awe and excitement, gaping at the gilded ceiling and silently attempting (in great vain, of course) to place the language these oddly dressed people were so effortlessly entwining with their English. She hurried over to them, adjusting her tilted pointed hat (which Cristal secretly thought looked more like a Halloween accessory than a real item of attire) and wringing her hands nervously. “Cristal Tisdale? Pennelline Silver? Luke Washington?”

“Yes…” Cristal confirmed suspiciously, deeply curious as to how this girl knew their names. “My name is Sonora. Sonora Candidus. I’m here to bring you to the Pristinian Ambassador and then to your new home. Now, it’s normally a good idea to Sitch from a place in the Parfum world, but seeing as how we are still Magiblanches and Sitching is illegal, we’ll have to fly. I can have my mother place a simple Disrevealing Charm on a couple of Relar (winged horses, you know… the Greeks were coming awfully close with that whole Pegasus thing… thought someone’d blown our cover for a while there) and we can be in the Vallecentre in an hour flat. Sound okay?” She seemed to be in a frenzy—her arms were wrapped tightly around a tottering stack of papers, her hair was uncombed and wild, and her voice sounded awfully strained.

“Sorry if I’m a little bit disorganized today, but I’m being taught to handle simple affairs like Tapestry appearances,” Sonora apologized guiltily. “My mom’s Pristinian Ambassador and I’m learning the ropes, so that I can take over for her when she retires or passes or is voted out, although I doubt it’ll be the latter, everyone loves her.” Unsure of what to make of the situation (and not understanding a word that was being said), Cristal stared, open-mouthed and truly stunned, at this girl in front of her. She had floor-length, straw-colored blonde hair, which fell in tiny, springy ringlets, and large, sparkling, aquamarine eyes. Her nose was small, round, and peppered with freckles, as were her shoulders, which were as pale and delicate as her face. Her cheeks were rosy and smooth; her hands were small, perfect, and dainty. She strongly reminded Cristal of an angel, especially with her white satin robes and pastel pink slippers. She began to wonder what Sonora thought of them. But then, remembering that she was still waiting for a response to her speech, Cristal forced herself out of her daydream and looked to her two companions for even a hint of guidance. Luke seemed to have fallen into a deep stupor (which, Cristal guessed, had little to do with the silence now veiling their little group), and Pennelline was either in a great deal of searing pain or fighting the urge to laugh. Cristal was simply wondering whether this could possibly be real. Sonora’s heavenly beauty was as absolutely unbelievable as the speech preceding this long, dreadful silence. Finally, being the outspoken girl that she was, Pennelline broke the quiet (although the manner in which she did it suggested that she had channeled every bit of hate she had ever felt towards her parents and redirected it towards the girl standing in front of them). “Now, Sonora, please excuse me for being frank, but what on Earth is a Relar? And what are you talking about, a Disrevealing Charm, and Sitching?”

‘Not on Earth,” Sonora corrected her solemnly. “In Pristina.” 

“In Pristina?” Would you care to explain? Sometime this century might be nice, if it’s not too much trouble!” Pennelline exclaimed loudly. So loudly, in fact, that Luke was jolted out of his deep trance. Sonora’s features slowly melted from a look of anticipation to a look of deepest weariness, and her eyes probed the room desperately, as if looking for someone to take her place. “Wow. Where in Pristina’s name should I start? Okay… I’ll be blunt. You three, like me, are what we in Pristina call Magiblanche. It means that you can perform magic, but it illegal when not under the direct supervision or knowledge of a Magiargente—a magical person who is older than eighteen—or in the presence of a Parfum—a non-magical person. When you come of age at eighteen, you will become Magiargente. You can perform magic at any given time under any circumstances, as long as it is away from Parfums. Now, before Pris—“

“Wait a minute,” Pennelline interrupted (it seemed to be a specialty of hers). “You mean that we—me and Cristal and Luke—can do magic? Like magic wands and spells and dragons and that stuff?”

“Well… in a manner of speaking, yes,” Sonora answered hesitantly. But we—the Pristinians—don’t do magic by means of wands and brooms and spells and things. Our magic is the most ancient brand on Earth—Pristina flourished long before even the most primitive of humans inhabited the Earth. We have been since the dawn of time, and by prophecy, are destined to be the last here as well. The use of wands is a common misconception—although there are thousands of wizards and witches who rely on wands and spell books, we prefer a more practical way. No incantations, no sticks of wood, no nothing. We use the oldest and least common brand of magic- Magiancienne. Ancient magic. We use our hands—one snap of your fingers and you can perform any task you need. Of course, it is much more complicated—according to my parents, you need to concentrate and focus and who knows what else. But that is our magic. It has bloomed for centuries, and was possibly the greatest force on Earth. Until our island—the true Pristina—was taken over. We were forced out by the most powerful Maginiore—that’s a Black, or Dark, magical person--, and fled to a tiny valley in the heart of Maryland. But that story is for another time. Now, I have to get you to my mother. It is getting late, and cannot afford to go over the time limit on this assignment.” By this time, Cristal could do nothing but stare. A quick glance at Pennelline and Luke told her that they were just as shocked as she was. Sonora, however, was quick to get them blinking again, and by the time the Pristinian Ambassador came striding through one of the many doors that lined the two side walls of the lobby, the trio were so excited that even Pennelline had abandoned her unexplained anger towards Sonora, and was flashing her shining, lively grin.

 Chapter 3  *The only good chapter I have come out with so far...