It’s #BookQW and two wizards in trouble are fast becoming ‘friends’.
More from Chapter 10:
The Watcher had light brown skin and looked like an elf, though she doubted he was. His ears weren’t pointed, just large and sticking out. Or maybe his face was narrow, hard to tell because of his flailing auburn-red ringlets. Worse, he sparkled—which color, or colors, weren’t clear—and bounced from foot to foot, even in midair. The guy was a jittery mass of movement, and it didn’t help that the glowing cage ropes stood between them.
Cor elbowed her. “Get on with it. I don’t like being a sitting duck.”
“You are nae sitting. Nor are you a duck. Both can be arranged, if you prefer.” The man raised a hand.
Fern darted her hands to block him—stupid, really, because she hadn’t tried magicking a shield—but she flushed magic like she had with the protective hickory nut. Or tried to. Nothing came out. Just as well, because the man was smirking. “We, uh, this must be a misunderstanding. This is my grandmother’s house, the Meadows, where I…” Hold it, she was in charge of the Meadows. Why was she stammering around when she belonged here? “I was just coming home, to my habitat.” Cor elbowed her again. “And bringing a friend with me.”
“Aye, that I did nae miss, and therein lies the problem, Mistress Fern,” he sneered. “Your friend here is nae approved to visit the Isle of Giuthas.”
“How do I get him approved?”
“You speak to the council. They approve the visitor. They submit the person’s details to the Watchers.”
This sounded like a lot of red tape, which—her heart sank—was probably what everyone meant when they said the isle was secure. She must not have triggered this guy’s radar when she first accidently came through the portal because of her blood relationship to Gran. “The Watchers?”
“The Watchers are the wizards charged with keeping the isle secure,” said Raven.
Fern spun around, her despair lifting, though he was frowning. “Thank goodness, you’re here. Tell him who I am.”
“Fee knows who you are.”
“And?”
“Fee doesn’t know who”—Raven jerked his chin at Cor—“that wizard is. You broke a rule.”
Cor grunted, and she elbowed him this time. “Can you get someone to fix this?”
“Suppose I have to if I am to have my promised lesson.” With a shake of his head, Raven rose into the air and glided down the side of Hillux.
Oh yeah, she’d promised Raven a computer lesson this afternoon. He must have been waiting—and oh no!—he was going home, to her home, which meant…
“Dad,” she shouted. “Get Merlin.” But he continued toward Gran’s front door, darn her pigheaded brother. Classic Raven. He lived to create conflict.
Mom stormed up Hillux’s steps a minute later, her long hair pulled into a thick ponytail with the curly strands twisting into knots like Fern’s stomach. She skidded to a stop outside the cage as Raven ran up behind her, still trying to explain. She raised her hands—
The little Watcher squealed and winked out. Fern couldn’t blame him.
—only to shove something at Raven. He caught it. A cookie. Fern could smell it from here. One of Dad’s huge oatmeal spice cookies.
“Who is that?” Cor whispered.
Mom flipped up her palms and flashed sage-green energy—
Cor yanked Fern down. “What the hell is she doing?”
* * *
Want to know more about Guardian of the Pines? Meet Cor here.
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