Maria clenched her hands into such tight fists that her knuckles cracked loud enough to make Sherlock jump. She was angry. Her skin glowed that peculiar blue that she had become accustomed to, but she was a leader, and a leader had to keep a level head.
She bent down and ruffled Sherlock’s fur. “I know, I know, you're scared. Fear is nothing to be ashamed of. If we stick together, we can beat them, just like before. We can kick the Widow’s ass.”
Sherlock looked at her sheepishly.
“Aw, turn that frown upside down, Sherlock,” Maria said. This time her tone was jovial enough, even though it was hard to keep the sadness out of it. All she could think about was her grandfather, Salem, the Arachnids, and the desire for revenge boiling inside of her.
I’m sorry, Maria, Sherlock said.
Maria patted him once more and turned to head back into Low Way. When she entered the private room, Agnes saw the look on her face, and her flesh went pale.
Frieda put a hand over her mouth. “No,” the dark witch gasped.
Maria nodded. “The Arachnids took Gramps, and Salem is hurt.”
Agnes and Frieda rushed over to Maria and put their arms around her, embracing each other in a group hug. Gelbus got off the chair and waddled over to them. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock and squeezed tight.
“How can we find them?” Maria wanted to know. “Oriceran is a huge world, and I’ve only seen, like, one percent of it.”
“Didn’t your grandfather tell you?” Agnes asked.
The young witch stared blankly at the older one. She had no idea what she was talking about. It seemed her grandfather didn’t tell her much of anything these days; when he did, it was often too late and so surprising that she hardly believed it.
Agnes pointed to the crystal hanging around Maria’s neck.
“Ah, yes,” Gelbus said. “The communication crystals can be used as a beacon.”
“A tracking device, to put it in simpler terms,” Agnes added.
Maria had almost forgotten. Salem had told her, but she knew to take what the wizard said with a grain of salt—most of the time, that was.
Frieda breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at the ceiling. “Thank the two moons,” she whispered. “Thank the flames.”
“All we have to worry about is Salem being able to activate—” Agnes began, but was cut off by the bright, blinking light around Maria’s neck. She smiled. “He and I are often on the same wavelength, it seems.”
“Okay, the light’s blinking, but I see no GPS on here, so how the hell do I get to him?” Maria asked.
“You open a portal,” Agnes said.
“But I’ve never opened—”
Agnes shook her head. “It is time you learned. Such a strong witch as you should have no problem. You have to believe.”
Sherlock barked. See, what did I tell you, Maria? You have to believe. Good things happen when you believe.
She nodded.
“When the portal opens, as long as you have the crystal in your hand, it should show us the way,” Agnes said.
Maria gulped. Opening a portal. Gramps had said that was one of the most difficult things a new witch could do, and rarely did they do it right. Sometimes, when things went wrong, you could wind up in the world in between. She couldn’t risk getting stuck there now. Not with everything on the line the way it was.
“Concentrate,” Agnes said. “Listen to your magic.”
Maria closed her eyes. In her right hand, she felt Agnes’s smooth fingers interlocking with hers; then Frieda took her left hand, her palm slick with sweat, fingers trembling. Despite her fear, Frieda offered Maria words of encouragement, words the girl was grateful for.
“You can do this, Maria. You are stronger than any other witch I’ve had the good grace of knowing. I have seen it in my flames,” the dark witch said, and Maria thought to herself that she should stop calling Frieda a ‘dark witch’. She was anything but dark.
You’ve got this, Maria! Sherlock added.
Her eyes were still closed, and she didn’t want to risk the consequences of opening them, but she imagined Sherlock and Gelbus side by side, the Gnome’s small hand wrapped around Sherlock’s paw.
“Focus, focus!” Agnes’s voice grew more distant. There was a sound like thunder rumbling far away, and a crack of lightning so bright, Maria saw it behind her eyelids. “You are in control of the magic, the magic is not in control of you. You can do this, Maria! You’ve got it! That’s it!”
A million arms tugged Maria in all different directions. She let out the breath she’d been holding, only to scream soundlessly.
Sherlock barked, sounding far away and louder than the rumbles of thunder and the cracks of lightning.
Then—it all stopped.
A cool breeze blew Maria’s hair back from her brow, though some stuck to her sweaty skin. She heard leaves rustling, branches crackling against one another, and Agnes shouting, “Good job, Maria!”
She opened her eyes.
No longer was she in the private room of Low Way Family Fun Center, though she could still see into that room via the portal that she—yes, she—had opened. Gold sparks of light ate away the darkness and the moonlight until Maria let go of something. Not physically, but something inside of her mind. The portal disappeared, and with it went the view of the inside of Low Way. A deep pang of sadness filled her heart. Oriceran was great and mysterious and cool—all that and more—but she’d always be an Ohioan, no matter how nasty the winters got, or how bad the sports teams usually were. She’d miss it. She had the feeling that she wouldn’t be back in the Midwest for a while…if ever.
Then the thought vanished.
Opening the portal had taken most of her thinking power away. She wasn’t quite sure why she was there in that clearing, on the edge of the Dark Forest. The nasty Dark Forest that she never wanted to see again for as long
