I stood on my bedroom balcony, leaning over the railing to look at the forest two stories below. Somewhere deep within those dark trees roamed a ferocious dragon. What if it was strong enough to break through the estate barrier?

Something knocked behind me, and I jumped. When I turned, Grandpa was standing in the balcony doorway. I waved him out onto the balcony. He came to lean against the railing and unrolled a scroll he'd brought with him.

"I never wanted to go against your parents' wishes." Shaking his head, he looked out over the forest. "Lies and betrayal have no part in a family."

I swallowed. He was probably as upset with me as he was with Grandma, but he didn't show it. He never showed his anger. It was always something you felt surging in the air around him.

"I'm sorry." Hugging myself, I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. "It's just, if I'd waited until after I was eighteen, I would've lost my powers."

"That old wives tale has been disproven by dozens of skilled witches who bond with familiars later in life. It's easier to bond as a child, but I've known witches in their late thirties and forties who've done it."

"Oh." That was a relief. It gave me more time to convince Mom that magic wasn't the most evil thing on Earth.

"Now, the four of us adults have been discussing your predicament for the last few hours, and we've come to an agreement." Reading from the scroll, he said, "Your parents will choose a house within two hours of Sorciereville, and I will take out a mortgage in their stead, to work around their unfortunate credit situation. Since you'll be an adult soon, that doesn't apply to you as much as the following conditions."

He shook out the scroll. "The first is this: I'll take care of your college tuition, as long as you attend a school that allows witches. It's your decision whether you study magic or not, but if you do, I suggest you attend a mixed-magic school. They have classes for people who learn magic later in life. As long as you fulfill a few conditions, your parents have agreed to refrain from arguing, shaming, or guilt tripping you about magic."

When he paused, I leaned forward to read the scroll. The word "Rothworth's" jumped out at me.

"What does it say about Rothworth's?" I asked.

"Your parents want you to attend a week of classes at the academy. Until classes start next month, they want you to be-" He sighed. "Your mother's exact words were 'un-brainwashed.' I assume she thinks you will be more open to the Rothworth's experience after going without magic for a month. That means no learning magic from books or from your grandmother, no practicing magic, and no venturing into the forest."

I wanted to argue, but I held my tongue. This deal could possibly let me keep everything I'd wanted--both my family and magic--assuming my parents kept their word. Besides going to Rothworth's, the other conditions weren't too bad. I'd never actually made a potion before, so giving them up for a month wouldn't be hard. And without a familiar, I couldn't do spells anyway.

The only controllable magic that might be a problem was my ability to hide under illusions. Though, I was pretty sure I wouldn't need it, as long as I stayed out of the forest--which I definitely planned on doing.

But going to Rothworth's? The witch hunters would eat me alive if they figured out I planned to practice magic.

"I'm not sure," I said.

"Isn't a week of unpleasantness worth a lifetime of keeping our family together?

I swallowed past a growing lump in my throat. Going to Rothworth's for a week was worse than unpleasant, but Grandpa was right. A week of torture was worth keeping my family together and keeping my magic.

"I agree. I'll do it."

He nodded and stowed the scroll under his arm. "I'll tell the others. By the way, Kyton is waiting for you in the stables."

I palmed my forehead. Kyton told me to meet him in the kitchen this morning. It was already one in the afternoon. Why hadn't he tried to find me? It wasn't like I'd gone far. Maybe he'd heard the arguing at breakfast and thought giving me some space was a good idea. He'd probably been right. I'd spent the last few hours pacing nervously.

"I'd better go find him."

***

When I opened the stable door, Kyton was working in the first stall on the left. It was the only occupied stall, and Starling--a black pegasus with a spiral horn on her forehead--grazed from its feed trough. Kyton had his back to me as he brushed her mane.

He was talking to himself. Or maybe he was talking to Starling; after all, most fairies could speak to magical animals.

"You think I'm ridiculous for liking her, don't you?"

Starling snorted, and Kyton spun around with a curry brush raised like a weapon. He lowered the brush, red-faced.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'll tell you before you ask. Her name's Piper, she's a witch, and I don't want to talk about it." He turned back to brushing Starling.

She nipped his arm, and he yelped. "Fine, her name's not Piper."

Huffing, she lowered her head to stare him in the eyes.

"No, I don't think that's sensible." He tugged at a knot in her mane as she tossed her head. "Sensible would be if you stopped bugging me and held still."

I moved to the stall doorway. "Do you need help?"

"Not with Starling, but there's a bird nest up in the rafters. I'd let it stay, but it's a phoenix nest. Their fledgelings have a tendency to burn things." He waved at the far corner of the stable. "Wear gloves. There's a metal bird box in the supply room. Put the nest in that, and I'll put it on a pole later."

"Got it." I grabbed a ladder, gloves, and a bird box from the supply room. As I put up the ladder in the corner, I heard Kyton arguing under his breath with Starling.

They were still talking about the girl Kyton liked. From the sound of it, Starling wanted him to tell the girl he liked about his feelings, but he didn't want to because she was a witch and wouldn't feel the same way.

All that Otherworlder magic, and he still worried about whether a girl liked him as much as he liked her. He wasn't that different from us humans after all. Pausing halfway up the ladder, I couldn't help but giggle.

"What?" Kyton asked, sounding defensive. "Don't you agree?"

I shook my head as I continued climbing the ladder. "Most witches weren't raised like I was. They'd probably be fine with you being an Otherworlder. Unless you look totally freaky under that glamour."

"Right." He ducked his head as he brushed Starling's leg. "I have absolutely no chance then."

I laughed. It felt good to laugh after a morning like today's. "What are you talking about? I've seen pictures of sprites before. If you look like them, you're not freaky. Just... unusual." I reached the top of the ladder. The bird nest in the rafters was large, as big around as my head.

Kyton groaned. "Don't lie. I look like a giant insect."

Admittedly, having dragonfly wings, colorful skin, and a tail did make sprites look rather insect-like. They still had a lot of human-like features, though, so they weren't unattractive.

"That's not freaky. Rotting flesh is freaky. Transparent skulls are freaky. Insect wings are kind of cool." I glanced between the bird box in my hand and the nest in the rafters. The nest wouldn't fit through the whole in the front of the box, and I didn't think I could open the top of the box while balancing on a ladder and holding a bird nest. Maybe I could just transfer the chicks into the box and add some loose nest materials afterward.

Soft smoky magic wafted out of the nest. It smelled good, but it wasn't nearly as powerful as Kyton's scent. Thank goodness. I couldn't afford to be distracted right now. The ladder was an old wooden one, and it didn't seem too sturdy.

The nest was just a little too high for me to see into it, but I was pretty sure I could grab it. Grateful Kyton had suggested wearing gloves, I stuck my fingers over the edge of the nest. Something poked me. It was a curious poke, not an aggressive one.

"You think so?" Kyton asked.

"Think what?" I gingerly scooped my hand under something warm and roughly ball-shaped. It squirmed to the far side of the nest.

"You said insect wings-"

"-are cool? Yeah. Why would I say that if I didn't think it?" Leaning closer to the rafter, I reached for the chick again.

A reddish-brown fluffball hopped onto the far rim of the nest. Two yellow-orange eyes opened in the midst of what had to be the bird's head. They were huge, taking up nearly a fourth of its face above a curved, yellow beak. The funny thing about the bird was its size. It was barely larger than my fist, but it looked like it had all its flight feathers. If it could fly already, why was it still in the nest?

Maybe it was younger than it looked. It had to be, or else it probably wasn't a real phoenix at all. I'd read that phoenixes were as large as eagles when they were full grown.

"You sure this is a phoenix?" I asked.

"Huh? Yeah, I saw one of the parents. So, Lilly-" He paused.

I leaned out farther. My fingers brushed the bird's stomach, and it didn't seem afraid--just curious. The bird tilted its head to the side with a soft chirp. Kyton was saying something, but I couldn't draw my attention away from the bird. There was something about it... something strange. Like the bird was as curious about me as I was about it.

Its mind prodded mine, and an image drifted through my thoughts. It was me, only from the bird's point of view. To her, I looked funny trying to climb up this high without any wings to catch me if I fell. She laughed silently.

I jerked in surprise. The ladder slipped out from under me, and I fell.