An outbreak of discussion ensues.

“But her name isn’t in the Birth Registry.”

“She wasn’t born in Aurelia.”

“How can this be?”

“How, indeed,” echoes Atticus quietly, lips stretched thin and white, clearly furious that my parents found a loophole in the system. Or so he thinks.

A long silence stretches as everyone looks around the table.

“A mystery we may never understand,” Athena says pleasantly, clapping her hands together. “As is the case with most things concerning magic, lest we forget.”

“Indeed,” says Waldon, still eyeing the scroll.

“So… I am a witch?” I repeat.

“The oath bound itself upon your signature. That means—” Waldon scratches his nose “—that you must be able to do magic.”

I was right then. My parents must have predicted a situation like this would arise when I returned to Aurelia, so they’d provided me with a failsafe.

I keep my expression neutral and furtively move the pen to my lap. Did it really fool everyone? It seems too good to be true. Too easy. But as I glance around the table, no one questions it—not even Atticus.

“Which means, Riley, that nothing is holding you back from remaining in Aurelia,” says Athena, shooting a smug look at Atticus, as if daring him to try.

There’s a flash of purple, and the scroll disappears from the table and a second later materializes in Athena’s hand. “Well then,” she says, tone matter-of-fact, “as there is no longer a need for her departure—” she tears the scroll down the middle, and it vanishes in a puff of smoke “—I would like to discuss how we will proceed.”

“Well, as Riley is underage, she will need a legal guardian,” says Waldon.

“I would like to volunteer,” says the man beside Atticus. “I am certain my brother would have wanted her to remain under the care of family.”

“Family?” I repeat.

“Yes, Riley, this is Alistair James,” says Waldon. “Arthur’s brother. He and his son are your last remaining family in Aurelia.”

“So… you’re my—”

“Uncle, yes,” says Alistair, giving me a rather formal smile.

I don’t return it. If this man is my uncle, why didn’t he fight for me to stay?

After a beat of awkward silence, I ask, “Will I not be staying at James Manor then?”

“I think Arthur and Wendy would have wanted you to stay in your family home,” says Alistair. “My son and I can take up residence there. We don’t live far—it should be an easy move.” He turns to Waldon. “I’ll have her added to the village roster in Skeleton Grove.”

“Thank you, Alistair,” says Waldon. “Next, I think, we ought to begin her magic training.”

I blanch. Oh no.

“We can enroll her for the Ibis term at Grimlock,” Waldon continues, “but she would benefit first from private lessons to get her up to speed. I would be happy to tutor—”

“Waldon,” interrupts Atticus, finally looking up from the table, which he’d been frowning at. “You’re quite busy as it is with the NIA. Speak with Horsewood—he can tutor her here.”

“Allow me,” says Athena. “He ought to be in his study.” She rises from her chair and leaves the room.

Atticus stands as well. “Well then, as high councilors, I think we all have more pressing matters to attend to than acclimating a schoolgirl into society. This meeting is dismissed.” He glances sideways at my uncle. “Alistair, a word, if you will.”

Atticus strides across the room to the exit. I flinch when the door slams shut. Alistair rises more slowly, glances at Waldon.

“I’ll make sure she gets back to the manor safely,” says Waldon.

Alistair nods, then follows after Atticus.

The orange-haired man leans forward, elbows digging into the table. “Don’t mind Atticus,” he says in his thick accent. “He doesn’t take well to surprises. He’ll come ’round.” He flashes me a smile, displaying a row of crooked teeth. “My name’s Ernie Poon.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say.

Waldon and Ernie remain at the table, conversing quietly, while the others filter out of the room. Many stop to introduce themselves to me, though I promptly forget their name as soon as the next person comes up.

A few minutes later, the door swings open, and Athena strides back in, followed by a tall, brawny man with a thick mane of graying hair and a matching beard.

“Riley, I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself earlier,” she says, stepping forward. “I’m Athena Walburga.” Then she turns to her companion. “And this is my colleague, Alpheus Horsewood. He heads the Guardian team. Alpheus has offered to train you in magic.”

The man raises a thick eyebrow at Athena. “Offered?”

Athena shoots him a stern look before turning back to me. “Alpheus has a background in experimental magicks. He has a broader knowledge of the many nuances concerning magic than most High Council members. He will ensure that all bases are covered.”

Horsewood narrows his eyes at me, as though sizing me up. “What is it that you’ve accomplished so far then?”

Ernie lets out a low chuckle from across the table.

“Um… nothing,” I say, sucking in my lips.

Horsewood clenches his jaw, turns to Athena. “She’s done no magic at all? Not even Class One spellwork?”

“Correct,” says Athena, with a pointed look. “You will need to start from the beginning.”

“How convenient of you to leave that detail out,” says Horsewood, before turning back to me. I gulp. “I’ll be in touch soon to brief you on the logistics.”

“‘Brief you o’ the logistics,’” chuckles Ernie, as Horsewood prowls out of the room. “He remembers he’s talkin’ to a teenager, not the NIA, right?”

***

Waldon gives me a tour of Wingate Castle and then escorts me back to Skeleton Grove. It storms all afternoon while we run errands. First he takes me to the local telehub and shows me how to use it. Then he brings me to the bank, where my parents’ money is signed over to me. The funds had been moved to a cemetery trust upon their deaths—my parents’ sneaky way of ensuring that something would be left for me if I ever returned. It isn’t until Waldon explains the currency that I comprehend the amount of wealth I’ve inherited. There are two units of currency in Aurelia: onyx claws—which hold the most value—and ruby scales. Most everyday items can be bought with scales. I struggle to rip my shocked gaze from the amount of claws listed on the bottom of the bank statement, which informs me that I’m the Aurelian equivalent of a millionaire.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

After the bank, we visit the Graveyard, a large department store, where I buy a pocket mirror—Aurelia’s version of a cell phone—and other necessities. The fact that clothing and shoes magically tailor themselves to fit the wearer makes the task of shopping—something I’ve never really had the freedom nor the money to do myself and have now learned that I don’t enjoy—much quicker.

Before returning to James Manor, Waldon suggests we stop for lunch. I follow him into the Viper’s Tongue, the pub with the famous dragon blood soup. Inside, it bustles with voices and the clatter of dishes. The aroma of malt hangs strong in the air.

Waldon places the order while I seek out a table. A short while later, a server carries over two bowls shaped like human skulls, brimming with the steamy red soup that smells sweet and savory and spicy all at once.

I wrinkle my nose. “Um… it’s not really dragon’s blood, right?”

There’s little that would surprise me anymore.

“Most surely it isn’t,” says Waldon, mouth twitching. “We do, however, eat dragon meat. It’s a true delicacy here. Though I would caution you against hunting down your own food. They’re quite tough to catch really… much more likely to catch you first.”

I choke on a spoonful of soup. “So they’re real? Dragons, I mean?”

“As real as you and I.”

The sky has darkened into dusk by the time Waldon walks me back and leaves me at the edge of Melody Lane. As I follow the trail, listening to the rain trickle through the canopy overhead before pattering along the ground, muddying the path, my afternoon euphoria is replaced by gut-wrenching anxiety, as though the darkening sky is unveiling the reality I’d temporarily forgotten. What good will a pocket mirror and all my new belongings be once the Council uncovers my secret? The special pen from my parents bought me an extended stay in Aurelia. Everyone thinks I have magical ability. But eventually it will be deemed a fluke.

A noise in the forest startles me. Slowly, I turn… and see movement in the loose leaves coating the forest floor. Something is shifting beneath the overgrown grass.

A moment later, a large black cat emerges from the bush. It halts several paces away and stares at me through wide, unblinking eyes that gleam like bright emerald pools. They have an overwhelming unnatural glow to them that makes the black pupils almost indiscernible. “Shoo!” I say, unnerved by its stare. When it doesn’t move, I step backward toward the gate, eyeing it uneasily. The cat follows, prowling forward, looking increasingly like a shifting shadow in the growing darkness, marked only by its unblinking green eyes.

Is this a normal cat? Shouldn’t it be scared of me? Clearly, it isn’t, for it continues its slow approach.

Losing my nerve, I turn and hurry through the gates. Halfway to the manor, I look over my shoulder. No sign of the cat.

The door to the manor is ajar, a line of yellow light illuminating a hodgepodge of boxes strewn across the front steps. More line the foyer walls inside.

“Hello?” I call uncertainly, my voice bouncing off the walls.

The pointed nose of Alistair James pokes around a corner. Seems he’s wasted no time moving in.

“Welcome ba—”

“How were you able to get in?” I ask, forehead creasing.

Alistair blinks. “Oh, well, you broke the seal on the house when you entered yesterday.” He points to a small pile of tombstone-gray paper bags squashed between two stacks of large boxes. My Graveyard purchases. “Those came for you while you were out.” A moment of awkward silence. “I decided to get settled today, as I have several important meetings tomorrow. My son, Mikhail, is around here somewhere. I suspect he’ll be down shortly.”

I yelp then as something swoops down from a high stack of boxes, dark wings fluttering through the air with the speed of a bat, before landing on Alistair’s shoulder. I stare at it. Why do so many people have pet birds in Aurelia?

“This is Lenox,” says Alistair.

“He’s—” I start, unsure how to express my impression of the odd bird. I normally love any type of pet, but this one seems no less creepy than the stray cat outside. “Large,” I finish weakly.

Footsteps come running down the hall, and then a thin, panting woman steps into the foyer. She has mousy hair and the lightest of eyebrows, which blend so much with her alabaster skin that, at first, I don’t see them at all. Her simple gray dress is a marked contrast to Alistair’s luxury forest-green suit.

“Ah yes—this is Prunella,” says Alistair. The woman gives a small curtsy. “She is our maid. She’ll be living here at the manor as well.”

The woman passes between us to the stack of boxes and hoists one up. She sways for a moment under its weight and readjusts her grip.

“Can’t she use magic to lift the boxes?” I ask, watching the poor woman stagger off.

“No. Prunella is a human,” says Alistair. “Ah, which reminds me.” He sticks his hand into the front pocket of his suit and hands me a scroll. “Horsewood asked me to give you this. You’ll start lessons with him first thing tomorrow.”

Swallowing, I unroll the scroll and a metal badge lands in my palm.

Meet me tomorrow morning at ten o’clock in the Reading Room. Use the badge to enter Wingate. Do not be late.

Prunella returns, forehead glistening in sweat. She goes to collect another box.

“Can I help?” I ask her, feeling sorry for the woman.

Alistair answers instead. “Yes, thank you. Just follow Prunella up.”

I blink incredulously, pursing my lips. When he says nothing further, I grab a box and climb the stairs after Prunella. I nearly trip over a familiar bundle of burgundy blankets lying in a heap on the second-floor landing.

Then I see the room that Prunella walks into and freeze, despite the rapid loss of circulation in my arms. The sheets and blankets have been switched out. Furniture moved around. Closet emptied. I’m in such a stupor that I don’t hear Alistair walk in until he’s standing right beside me.

I drop the box, not caring if anything fragile is inside.

“My parents’ room?” I say loudly, blood searing through my veins. “There must be a dozen bedrooms in this place, and you chose theirs?”

Alistair turns, a look of mild shock overtaking his features. Prunella glances between us and, clearly sensing danger, ducks from the room.

“My apologies,” says Alistair, placing a hand on his chest. “I had no idea it would bother you.”

“I just got here,” I say hotly. “I want to go through their stuff.”

“Rest assured nothing has been thrown out,” says Alistair in a smooth voice. “Prunella merely packed the items away.”

I gape at him, seething.

Alistair continues, “It’s just, you see, Arthur was my brother. Call me sentimental, but I felt drawn to his old room. Surely you can understand…”

I clench my fists. I’m certain that the room being the largest in the manor was also a strong determining factor. But I hold my tongue. Alistair and his son are my only remaining family, and I don’t want to start off on a bad foot.

The thought has barely crossed my mind when a familiar voice calls down the hall. “Father?”

I stiffen, my back going ramrod straight. Where do I know that voice from? I can’t quite place it, but it nonetheless inspires a boiling fury in my bones.

“Father, did you ask Prunella to—oh.” The boy from the town hall who nearly got me deported appears in the doorway. He seems to recognize me at the same moment I recognize him.

“There you are, Mikhail,” says Alistair. “Please meet your cousin, Riley.”

Mikhail composes himself. “Pleasure,” he says, his tone affected.

Despite the fact that we’re cousins, I don’t think we bear much resemblance, apart from our eyes. He’s tall. Hollow cheekbones. Neatly parted dark hair framing an oblong face. Like his father, he’s clad in luxurious attire, from his navy blazer to his polished shoes. A large gray bird with dark blue eyes rests on his left shoulder

“I’m certain you two will have much in common,” says Alistair, to which we both raise an eyebrow. “Mikhail will also be turning fifteen later this month. Now, I must find Prunella.” He brushes past us.

“Oh, won’t you tell her to unpack my room?” Mikhail calls after him.

Then there’s silence as we stare at each other. My eyes flicker to the bird on his shoulder. He follows my gaze.

“This is my familiar, Drax,” says Mikhail. I want to ask what a familiar is, but also don’t want to appear stupid in front of Mikhail. So I file it away in my mind, alongside the ever-growing log of questions I have about this strange country. “My father told me they almost deported you.”

I narrow my eyes. “Thanks to you.”

“He also told me that you can’t do magic.”

“I just got here,” I say, though my heart thumps. “I’m starting lessons tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well, your name isn’t in the Registry,” says Mikhail. “So it should be impossible for you to do magic.” A pause. “My father thinks Athena Walburga tampered with that oath when she went to get it.”

The blood leaves my face.

Mikhail shrugs casually. “Guess you’ll find out tomorrow though, won’t you?” He pauses at the doorway. “Oh, also, I do hope you don’t mind, but I’ve claimed the larger bedroom nearest the stairs on the third floor.”

My mood is fouling fast. Neither Mikhail nor Alistair thought to check before picking a room. The manor is mine, after all.

I force a smile. “Then I should warn you, the third floor is one of the more haunted spots in the house.”

Mikhail rolls his eyes. “It’s only the house pests, and my father has already arranged for Beast Control to come out first thing tomorrow.”

“Yes, well, I slept in here last night and heard rattling and moaning coming from the room just above.” A beat. “You know… the large one by the stairs?”

“You’re lying.” Mikhail sneers, though he now looks unsure and perhaps a little pale.

As soon as he’s gone, my insides squirm uncomfortably. Mikhail’s wrong—but not completely. Athena didn’t tamper with the oath.

I did.

What will happen to me once the truth is revealed?