Prologue: The Man with the Pointy Pink Shoes

 

 

ONCE UPON a time in the Kingdom of Verania, there was a kickass boy born in the slums of the City of Lockes. His parents were hardworking, and at times life could be difficult, but they were alive and had all their teeth. Which was very important.

That kickass boy was me, and when I was eleven years old, I turned a group of teenage douchebags to stone.

And then he came, with his black beard and epic pile of hair that stuck out all over the place, with his black robe and pointy pink shoes that were the greatest things I’d ever seen before in the history of ever.

“I like your shoes,” I told him, because it seemed important that he know.

“Thank you, little one. I made them out of the tears of a succubus and a lightning-struck tree stump I found under the Winter Moon. I like your face.”

No one had ever said anything like that to me before, and it made me feel warm and safe and happy. “Thank you, big one. My parents made it when they got married. I was a honeymoon baby, whatever that means.”

He laughed then, a small sound that I could listen to forever. Maybe it was a bit of a crush. Maybe it was my magic recognizing his, even though I couldn’t have known it at the time. Or maybe it was because I wanted him to be my friend, since I didn’t have many of those. Well, I didn’t have any of those, and I very much wanted this strange man with the pink shoes to be my friend.

And then—

“Lord?” I gasped. “You’re a lord?”

“I suppose I am,” he said, touching the stone tongue of the handsome asshole known as Nox.

I gaped at him. “You’re Morgan of Shadows!”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, sweet mercy! Please don’t make my nipples explode!”

And even though I had started that rumor, I somehow found myself believing he could do just that. He didn’t, of course.

Instead, he asked a question that would change everything. “Did you do this? Turn these boys to stone?”

I had. I didn’t know it then, but I had.

And he’d known it too, though he’d acted like he didn’t.

And he’d known about me too.

But that would come much, much later.

For now, I was just a boy from the slums trying to think of ways to get one of the most powerful wizards in the known world to stay for just a little bit longer so he could see that I could be a good friend, if he wanted me to be.

“Turn them back,” he said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

So I said Malakasham and Flora Bora Slam and Abra Wham, because everyone knew that you had to say magic words until magic happened.

It wasn’t too far from the truth.

I was just using the wrong words.

But as it turned out, I would eventually not need to use words at all.

“Colors, Sam,” he said quietly. “Do you remember seeing any colors?”

There had been green, like trees and grass.

“You found it,” he said, sounding awed. “I can feel it. It’s so… expansive. How have you never…? Can you grab it?”

It turned out I could.

And it changed everything.

It was like thunder rolling in the alley, like a lightning crack. The walls around us shook, the ground rolled beneath my feet, and then the boys were flesh and blood and bone, and Nox was angry.

“—gonna fucking kick your ass, Sam!” he finished yelling before he squeaked, eyes widening as he saw everyone who now stood with me.

And then my mother threatened him, and I loved her so.

And then my father threatened him, because he was the greatest man who had ever lived.

And then Morgan threatened him, and I thought maybe I had made my very first friend.

The teenage douchebags fled under the threat to their very lives. Nox was last to leave, and right before he disappeared around the corner—neither of us realizing that our fates were already beginning to intertwine—he glanced back at me over his shoulder. His eyes found mine, and there was something there. But it was gone before I could make heads or tails of it, and so was he.

It didn’t matter then.

Because I was eleven.

And I could do magic.

“How old are you?” I demanded of Morgan.

He smiled down at me. “Two hundred and forty-seven years old.”

“Woooow,” I breathed reverently. “Dude. I knew you were so old.”

“Our apologies, my lord,” Mom said in that tone of voice that meant I was in a pile of deep shit when we got home. “Sometimes he doesn’t think before he speaks.”

“Hey!” I said, offended. “I always think before I speak. It’s just that the words usually don’t come out like my brain thinks them.”

“The doctor said he was healthy,” Dad said to Morgan. “We should have gotten a second opinion.”

And then Morgan did the darnedest thing for someone so revered. He hunkered down until we were eye level, robes piling around him.

Mom and Dad gasped.

Pete, my favorite guard, sighed dramatically behind us, as he was wont to do whenever I was around.

“Hi,” I said, fingers itching to reach out and tug his beard. I didn’t, only because Dad was drawing a finger pointedly across his throat like he knew exactly what I was thinking. I tried to remember my manners instead. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Morgan looked amused. “And you as well. I am happy that I can finally know your face.”

“It is a nice face,” I said. “I should know. I own it.” Then I frowned. “What do you mean finally—”

“I am going to expect great things from you,” he said.

“You are?”

“I am,” he said. “But I know you’ll be up to the challenge.”

“I can do a lot of things,” I told him, wanting to make sure he didn’t leave quite yet. “I can climb trees really good. And… um. Oh! I can read all by myself. Also, I can burp all the lyrics to ‘Dance Under the Starry Sky.’ Do you want to hear it? You might want to stand back, though. I had fish soup for lunch.”

“Maybe later,” Morgan said, barely grimacing at all. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for all of that soon enough.”

And I really liked the sound of that.

 

 

THE NEXT day there was a package delivered from the castle, addressed to MR. SAM HAVERSFORD. I was enthralled by it, seeing as how I’d never received a package from anyone.

“Are you going to open it?” Mom asked me after I’d stared at it for three hours.

“Don’t rush me,” I said, not looking up from it. “I’m relishing.”

“Relish away,” she said, ruffling my hair.

And I did just that for another twenty-seven minutes before I caved and tore into the package.

Inside was a pair of pointy pink shoes that fit me perfectly and a note with a tight scrawl across it.

 

See you soon.

—M

 

 

SOON MEANT three days later.

Dinner was finished, and Mom and Dad sat me down for lessons. It was a math night, which I hated more than anything else in the world. Math had been conceived with the sole purpose of vexing me terribly. I didn’t see why I would ever need to find the value of x on both sides of the equation or to multiply fractions. “I’m going to work with Dad in the lumber mill,” I grumbled. “Wood doesn’t need math.”

“And yet,” Joshua Haversford said, “complaining about it isn’t going to get you out of doing it. Funny how that works.”

“That’s not funny at all,” I pointed out.

“I thought it was a little funny,” Rosemary Haversford said, her gypsy accent like musical notes curling around every word.

“You have to think it’s funny,” I told her. “He’s your husband. It’s, like, the law.”

“Hear that?” Dad said to Mom. “It’s the law.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll find what it’s like to sleep outside tonight.”

And there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” I shouted, pushing my chair back from the table, thanking the gods for the distraction. With any luck, it would be the police asking questions about a murder investigation where I was the sole witness (even though I had never seen anyone murdered), and would take up the rest of math night.

I threw open the door and, without seeing who it was, said, “I saw the whole thing! He used a fireplace poker and bashed the poor fellow upside the head! I am traumatized, I tell you. Traumatized.”

“Who did what now?” Morgan of Shadows asked.

Pete stood next to him, face in his hands.

A couple of other knights stood behind them, looking bemused.

“You’re not the police,” I reminded them, in case they didn’t know. “Ignore what I just said.”

“You should probably ignore a lot of what he says,” Pete muttered.

“That’s mostly true,” I admitted. “But hey! Hi! Look!” I pointed down at my pink and pointy shoes, beaming up at Morgan. “Did you get the thank-you note my mom forced me to write—I mean, that I wanted to send all on my own?”

“I did,” Morgan said, a strange look on his face. “I haven’t had a chance yet to answer any of the ninety-seven questions you asked.”

“That’s okay,” I reassured him. “You can get it back to me by next week. Tuesday at the latest.”

“Is this… where you live?” he asked.

“Yeah! With Mom and Dad. I have my own room and everything.” My eyes went wide. “Dude. I just had the best idea ever.”

“Uh-oh,” Pete said.

“You should totally come see my room.”

“Totally?” Morgan asked.

“Totally,” I agreed.

“Sam, who’s at the door?” Mom called.

“Just the King’s Wizard, Pete, and some other scary-looking knights!” I yelled back over my shoulder. “Can I take him to my room and show him my stuff?”

There was a brief pause and then what sounded like chairs getting knocked over and footsteps running toward us.

“It’s math night,” I told our visitors. “Sometimes it gets a little wild.”

Mom and Dad burst from the kitchen, looking wide-eyed and flustered.

“My l-lord,” Dad stammered.

“We are honored t-t-to have you,” Mom stuttered.

“So embarrassing,” I mumbled.

“Rosemary, Joshua.” Morgan nodded slightly. “Sam here was going to show me his room, if that was okay with you.”

They gaped at him.

“They’re totally cool with it,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Honest. And, oh no! Shucks! Since we have guests now, we have to cancel math night! Darn! Of all the rotten luck! Morgan, come on. Hurry, hurry, hurry.” I tugged him until he began to follow me toward my room.

Behind us, I heard Pete say to my parents, “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

But I didn’t care about that. It was probably boring grown-up stuff anyway. What I did care about was having my friend Morgan in my room. I’d never had a friend over before, and I was unsure what to show him first. Did he want to see the drawings I’d done that Mom said I wasn’t allowed to take out in public because “People just won’t understand your artistry, Sam. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go be sick for reasons unrelated to what you’ve just shown me. And, as a bit of constructive criticism, you may not want to use mayonnaise for paint, as it tends to rot.” Or I could show him my book collection (I had three) or my rock collection (I had three hundred forty-nine) or the—

I looked back over my shoulder to make sure he had followed me through the doorway after I’d dropped his hand. He was still there, not yet having entered my room. He looked sad for some reason. I glanced around, trying to see if something might have upset him, but my room looked like it always did. It was small, with a little bed in the corner with soft blankets Mom had made for me. A bureau in another corner held my rock collection and the few clothes I had that Mom and Dad fretted over, saying I was growing up too fast. I didn’t see a problem with it. As long as I had something to cover up my privates, I figured I was doing okay. The floor was made of dirt, but the walls were solid, and the roof barely even leaked. I even had a little window above my bed, and at night, if I craned my head just right, I could see the stars above the stone buildings that stood around us.

All in all, it was a pretty good room. A lot of kids in the slums didn’t have their own room like I did. I was thankful for it.

And now I had a friend here, and even though he still looked sad, it was something new, something exciting.

“I have books,” I told him proudly. “And I can read them all myself. Mom said if I’m lucky, I might be able to get another one for All Hallowed Day. And I also have rocks. And a wooden raccoon that my dad made me. Isn’t that great?”

Morgan studied me closely. “Do you really think so?”

I scrunched up my face, unsure of what he meant. “Yes? Yes. I think so. I’ve got it pretty good, you know? Some people don’t get to have all that I do. I’m very lucky.”

He took a step into the room, and he needed to crouch slightly so his head didn’t hit the ceiling. I thought it was funny because Dad had to do the same thing. It was like they were giants. He trailed his fingers along the walls and scuffed his pointy pink shoes through the dirt. It only took him three or four steps to reach my bed. He stared down at it just for a moment, shoulders slumped. But before I could ask if something was wrong, he turned and sat down on the bed, the end of his beard in his lap.

“Sam,” he said. “There’s a reason for my visit.”

“You’re not gonna make me go to the dungeons and poop in buckets, are you?” I asked him suspiciously. “Because you already said you wouldn’t, and it’s the law that you can’t change your mind.”

“I’m not going to make you go to the dungeons and poop in buckets,” he said. “You have my word.”

“Whoa,” I whispered. “I have the word of a wizard. I am amazing.”

“That you are,” he agreed. “Which is part of the reason why I’m here.”

I squinted up at him. “You’re here because I’m amazing?”

“Yes.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s always good to have validation. Thank you.”

He coughed, like he was trying stay serious but needed to cover up a laugh. Pete did that to me all the time. “Sam, what do you know about magic?”

“I haven’t done any more,” I said quickly. “You made me promise not to try, and I always keep my promises.” I frowned. “Most of the time. And if I can’t keep my promise, I usually have a really good reason for it. Sometimes.”

He shook his head. “I know you haven’t. I’d be able to— It doesn’t matter, little one. I’m just curious about what you know.”

That made me feel better. “Oh! Well. Honestly? Not a whole lot. Like… there are magic words. And stuff. And you told me there are colors. Sometimes I see them, but I don’t touch them because you told me not to.” Then an idea hit me. “Can I turn things to turkey legs? Because I swear to the gods, if I can turn things to turkey legs, I would do that all the time. I’m sorry, but I would. I would do it all the time, and then I would eat every single one.”

He coughed again. It sounded a little forced. “That’s… maybe a lesson for another day.”

“So I can change things to turkey legs,” I whispered to myself. “Best. Day. Ever.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t not.”

“Do you know where magic comes from?”

That sufficiently distracted me from thoughts of turkey legs. “No,” I said slowly since I’d never really given it much thought. If I was being honest, as soon as I’d gotten my own pair of pink shoes, I hadn’t even thought about magic again.

He tapped the side of his head. “It starts here. With thought and decision.” Then he lowered his hand and tapped his chest, right over his heart. “But it’s controlled here. Because the heart controls emotion.”

“Actually, medical science has shown that the brain also controls emotion—”

“I’m trying to make a point.”

“Oh. Right. Metaphors. I know what those are. Do you? What’s a metaphor?”

“They’re—”

“To keep cows in,” I said, bursting out laughing. “Get it? ‘What’s a metaphor’ sounds like ‘what’s a meadow for’? It’s for cows.” I wiped my eyes. “I love smart humor.”

Morgan of Shadows stared at me wordlessly.

“It’s okay if you need me to explain it,” I told him. “Sometimes my jokes go over everyone’s heads. Actually, they pretty much do all the time. See, it’s called a pun, and everyone knows puns are the highest form of—”

“I know what a pun is. And meadows. And metaphors.”

“Oh. Right. I suppose you would. Because you’re the King’s Wizard. You’re supposed to know that kind of stuff so you can entertain the King when called upon to do so.”

“That might have something to do with it,” he said wryly. “But that’s not what I meant. Sam, magic is a thing of the head and the heart. It can be controlled by careful thought, by meticulous planning. Or it can be unleashed in a state of heightened emotion. Like fear when being chased into an alley by a group of older boys.”

I glared at him. “I wasn’t afraid. I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” I shook my head furiously. “I’m brave. I promise.”

“I believe you,” he said, a small smile on his face. “Do you think I’m brave?”

“Yeah,” I said, because of course he was. He was Morgan of Shadows. “Like, the bravest, even. I don’t know if there is anyone braver than you. Well, my dad is, because he’s awesome like that. But other than that, dude, so brave.”

“But even I get scared sometimes.”

“You do?” I asked, incredulous. “Of what?”

“Spiders.”

“Oh yeah,” I agreed. “That’s a good one. Spiders are gross. All those legs and eyes and they lay eggs in your ears while you’re asleep if you disobey your parents. My mom told me that.”

“Jesters.”

“Right? What are they even doing? Do they need to wear face makeup like that? They’re already freaky enough when they cackle and stuff. I got you, dude. Same page.”

He was quieter when he said, “Losing the ones I care about.”

I nodded solemnly. “Like your mom and dad?”

“Something like that.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.”

“I get scared of that too. Sometimes. They’re all I got, you know? And people in the slums, they don’t… they don’t always live so long. What would happen to me if they… if they….” I couldn’t even bear to finish the thought. I felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Nothing will happen to them,” Morgan said. “I know it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because they’re under my watch now. As long as you’ll do me a favor. Can you do me a favor, Sam?”

This sounded important. I wiped my eyes again (telling myself any wetness was left over from the pun). “Like, a mission or something? A quest? Whoa. Are you gonna send me on a secret quest where I’ll have to go undercover to infiltrate a base of bandits to steal a map that leads to treasure that’s bigger than my most wildest dreams?”

“No,” he said, but before I could be disappointed, he added, “it’s something greater.”

My young mind was blown, because I didn’t know what else in the world could be bigger than stealing a treasure map from a bandit’s base. “What is it?” I whispered.

“I need you and your parents to move to Castle Lockes, where you will become my apprentice and one day will become the King’s Wizard yourself, charged with protecting Verania. Is that something that you think you can do?”

“That’s… that’s… okay. Can I be honest? I like the idea of going undercover and stealing a treasure map from bandits better. Because there would be explosions and gold and rubies and junk.”

Morgan tilted his head back and laughed, and I decided right then it was my job to get him to do that again and again. “You are so much more than I ever hoped you would be.”

“You hoped for me?” I asked, confused.

There was a tightening around his eyes and mouth, but it was gone before I could be sure it was there. “When I thought of who my apprentice would be,” he said, “I never thought it would be someone like you. I should like it very much if you would do me the honor.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“A very good thing, Sam.”

“O… kay. And you promise my mom and dad can come too?”

“I promise,” Morgan said, and I believed him. “And they will never have to worry about money or food or clothes ever again. I will make sure they’re taken care of for the rest of their days. Much like I promise to watch over you for the rest of mine.”

And suddenly, the reality of what he was offering me felt like it was choking my heart. Here he was, this man, this powerful wizard who I had met only once before, telling me he could make my wishes upon the stars come true. That my mother would be cared for. That my father wouldn’t have to worry anymore. That I could do something great. That I could become someone special. That maybe, just maybe, people would remember my name because I would be good and kind.

“Why are you doing this?” I said, bottom lip wobbling and eyes stinging. “You don’t even know me. You don’t know us.”

He lifted his hand from my shoulder and moved it to the back of my neck, holding me tightly. And for the first time, I felt something coming from him, something that felt like safe and home. I didn’t recognize it for what it was then, his magic mingling with mine, but that was okay. It was enough that it was there.

“Because I see the magic that is in your heart, Sam,” he said softly. “The greatness of it. How vast it could be. You might not see it, and there will be others who underestimate you, but I know you’ll prove them wrong. And I’ll show you how. You have a gift, little one. You are brave. And strong. Please say yes. Please let me take you away from here.”

I cried then, as I threw myself at him. I knew that only babies shed tears, that I was eleven years old and almost a man. And maybe I was a little embarrassed at crying in front of my new friend. But he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly against his chest, his beard tickling my nose. He didn’t even seem to care that I was getting snot all over it. And since he didn’t, I didn’t either, and I let myself have this moment, this brief little moment when a weight was lifted off my shoulders for the first time since I could remember.

“You’ll see,” he whispered as I hiccupped against him. “You’ll see. I’ll show you the way, but the choices will be yours. There is a path, Sam, that all must follow, but there are many ways to move along it. And I promise you that I’ll help you find your own way. Not everything is set in stone.”

He rocked me back and forth, there in my little bedroom in our little shack in the middle of the slums, making promises that I knew, I just knew, he would keep.

 

 

EVENTUALLY WE walked back into the kitchen hand in hand. I was smiling up at him with stars in my eyes. He winked at me and squeezed my hand.

My parents stood in the tiny kitchen, huddled close, Dad looking shell-shocked, Mom’s face wet, her hands trembling. Pete stood before them, looking rather pleased with himself.

I dropped Morgan’s hand and ran toward my parents. Dad was ready for me, arms open wide. I crawled up him until we were face-to-face. I reached up and squished cheeks with my hands and proclaimed, “I’m going to be a badass wizard!”

“Sam,” Mom admonished wetly. “You watch your language. We live in a civilized household. Act like it.”

“But I am badass,” I said. “Even Morgan said I was.”

“I don’t know that I said it like that—”

“Don’t front! You meant the same thing!”

Morgan sighed.

Pete laughed. “It’s going to be like this now. Forever. Ain’t nobody to blame but yourself.”

“We’re going to live in the castle!” I said excitedly, squishing my dad’s face even further. “And Morgan is going to teach me magic and I’m going to be so awesome and I’ll get to have friends and you get to go with me and we won’t be hungry and we’ll get to have baths every day—wait.” I turned in my dad’s arms to glare at Morgan. “I better not have to have a bath every day.”

“Every day,” he said solemnly. “You’ll be in the King’s Court, Sam. A requirement is not to smell like stinky little boy anymore. You might even have to comb your hair every now and then.”

“Good luck with that,” Mom muttered.

“Oh well,” I said slyly. “I guess we’ll just have to stay here. Darn. How disappointing.”

They all stared at me.

They were totally falling for it. Adults were so dumb.

They still stared at me.

They weren’t falling for it. Adults were so dumb.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I was kidding. We’re still going, even if I have to bathe every day. Gods. Whatever. It’s waste of water, especially when I’m just going to get dirty again.” And then another thought hit me. “Do I still have to do math?”

“A lot of it,” Morgan said, grinning widely.

“Ugh,” I mumbled. “Maybe I wasn’t kidding about staying here. Math is stupid.”

“Are you sure about this, my lord?” Dad asked, voice shaking in a way I had never heard before. I turned back toward him, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone look so hopeful. “About him? About us?”

“And that we’ll all be together?” Mom asked. She glanced at me and Dad before looking back at Morgan. “You won’t separate us from each other?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” Morgan said. “You will all be together and in good hands. And Sam… well. He’ll be… extraordinary, I think.”

“That’s another word for amazing,” I whispered to my dad, just to make sure he understood. “He’s talking about me.”

“Can we have a moment?” Dad asked.

“Of course,” Morgan said, bowing his head. “We’ll wait outside to give you all the privacy you need.”

Dad moved me to one arm while reaching out with the other to shake Pete’s hand. They left, and we heard the rickety front door close behind them. Silence fell in the kitchen where less than an hour before, we’d been hunched around an old and outdated math book. How strange it was that things could change so quickly. It was usually for the worse. Today just happened to be for the better.

“What did he tell you?” Dad asked.

I told them everything as I remembered it. The promises made. Morgan’s faith in me. What I could become. That we could leave this place and never have to worry again. Fanciful, sure, and probably unrealistic, but I felt like a boy in a fairy tale, being plucked from his slovenly obscurity and handed his wishes on a silver platter.

“And this is what you want?” Mom asked when I finally ran out of words, my voice hoarse and cracked from the excitement.

“Yeah,” I said. “I can do this. Okay? I promise you.” I looked at each of them, one at a time, so they could see just how serious I was. “I’ll do so good. I’ll make you proud of me, okay?”

Dad’s breath hitched. “We’re already proud of you,” he said gruffly, because he was a Northern man who didn’t show weakness. “You are everything we could have ever asked for.”

“And we don’t need this for us,” Mom said, rubbing a hand up and down my back. “If we do this, it’ll be for you.”

“But why can’t it be for all of us?” I asked them.

And they both seemed to be at a loss for words.

Finally Dad said, “Well, I’ve always wanted to say that I lived inside of a castle. Maybe we could send a postcard to your mother, just to rub it in a little bit.”

Mom smacked his shoulder and said, “Josh!” but we could see the sparkle in her eye, fiery and bright. “Maybe just one.”

“Does that mean we can go?” I asked, wriggling in my dad’s arms.

Dad glanced at Mom, his eyes lingering on her before he looked back at me. He took a deep breath and said—

 

 

WE DIDN’T have much. But that was okay, because it meant it didn’t take long to pack. Morgan sat on my bed in my room, listening to me babble as I filled a pillowcase with everything I could lay my hands on. I told him I would need to meet the King right away, because I had some ideas about corn that I just couldn’t wait to share. Oh, and could I possibly be part of a parade the next time there was one? It didn’t need to be about me, I assured Morgan, and I didn’t even want to lead it. I just wanted to march in the parade like I’d seen other people do, and smile and wave at all the people who came to watch. “I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time,” I said, frowning at the drawer full of three hundred and forty-nine rocks. “Everyone in the parade always seems like they’re happy, and I want to be that happy too.”

“Have you been happy before?” Morgan asked me quietly.

I glanced at him before I closed the drawer. I wanted to seem like I didn’t need to bring much, so they wouldn’t get mad at me. I could leave the rock collection here. Maybe they’d let me start a new one.

I shrugged. “Most of the time. We had it pretty okay, for being in the slums. Hey! Maybe one day we could help all the other people here!”

“I’d like that very much,” Morgan said, looking down at his hands. “I know the King would too.” Then, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For how it was for you here.”

I smiled at him. “You didn’t know me before. It’s okay, dude. We’re cool now. Like, so cool, you don’t even know. I’m all done.”

He looked surprised. “That’s it? Just the one pillowcase that’s barely full?”

“Yeah. We don’t have a lot of stuff, you know? But Dad said we don’t need it, because we have each other and that is what’s important.”

“He’s a very smart man.”

“The smartest,” I agreed.

He stood up from my bed, accidentally bumping his head against the ceiling. He frowned up at it before looking back at me. “If you could have anything right now, anything your heart desired, what would you ask for?”

I thought for the longest time—at least a minute. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “You’ve already given me all I could ever want. It’s hard to think.”

He closed his eyes. “There isn’t anything at all?”

“Well, maybe like a turkey leg or something. We didn’t have a lot of dinner today because Dad says payday isn’t until next week. It happens sometimes.”

He snorted as he opened his eyes again. “Out of everything in the world, a turkey leg is what you wish for the most. You…. Okay. Let’s go get you that turkey leg.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Yes!” I fist-pumped the air. “Can my dad have one too? He gave me his food today. He said he wasn’t hungry, but he is such a liar sometimes. I mean, come on, right? I’m always hungry, and Dad is, like, a hundred times bigger than me, so he has to be hungry too.”

“Right,” Morgan echoed. “Yes. Of course, yes. And for your mother too. All the turkey legs you could ever want.”

“Dude,” I breathed. “So awesome.”

I took his hand and pulled him away from my room.

And I never went back.

 

 

THE SUN was beginning to set as we stood out on the street in front of the house. People were watching curiously, peering through their windows or standing in their doorways. I waved at them. Some of them even waved back.

Dad stood next to Pete, Mom in his arms, her head on his chest as they looked at the house. It wasn’t the nicest house in the world; it wasn’t even the nicest house in the slums. But it had been our home for as long as I could remember. We had been happy there, most of the time. Dad had been right when he said that as long as we had each other, we’d be okay. I tried to see what my parents saw when they looked at the house, but the promise of a future full of adventure tugged on me more than the memories the house held.

Mom wiped her eyes, but she was smiling.

Dad kissed her forehead, and he was smiling too.

I liked it when they smiled.

The knights had loaded up a horse-drawn cart with our belongings. Pete climbed up in front, took the reins, and rested them in his lap. “You ready, kiddo?” he asked, looking down at me.

“The readiest ever,” I said as seriously as I could.

“You want to ride with me?”

I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head. “Wizards don’t need to ride like that. We’ve got legs.”

He laughed. Then he flicked the reins and clicked his tongue, and the old horses began to move forward, the cart’s large wheels clacking along the cobblestones. The few knights marched in formation behind him, shields strapped to their backs, swords at their sides.

Mom and Dad followed, hands clasped.

I grabbed Morgan’s hand again, demanding he tell me all about the castle before we got there so I would know what to expect.

I only looked back once, head already filling with Morgan’s descriptions of the King and the Prince, the throne room and the gardens. Right before we turned the corner, leaving my old life behind, I felt a tug of something at the back of my head, like a whisper only I could hear. I glanced over my shoulder and saw someone I didn’t expect watching me.

Nox.

He stood in the middle of the street, brow furrowed, mouth in a thin line. He was breathing heavily, like he’d just run a great distance. I told myself that maybe he’d heard that something strange was happening at the Haversford home and came to snoop. I regretted leaving my rock collection, sure he was going to steal it. But I didn’t want to go back for it. That life was over.

I could have ignored him.

I could have stuck my tongue out at him.

But I didn’t.

I didn’t, because even though Nox was a bully, even though he was the poster boy of teenage douchebag, he was staying in the slums while I was leaving. And it almost looked like he was upset about something, but I didn’t know what.

So instead of being a jerk, I raised my hand in his direction and waved, just a little.

He surprised me by waving back, a forlorn shake of his hand from side to side.

And then I was around the corner and Nox disappeared from view.

Strangely, there was a little pang in my heart. But I pushed it away. I had exciting things ahead, after all.

“Okay?” Morgan asked me.

I grinned up at him. “Okay.”

And besides, I told myself, it wasn’t like I was ever going to see Nox again.

He was in the past.

I didn’t look back.