Charms & Chocolate - Carried by Wind

Volume 2 of the Witches World-Folds Saga

Jenny Swan

The Witches World-Folds Saga

Volume 1: Awakened by Fire

Volume 2: Carried by Wind

Volume 3: Immortalized in Iron

Volume 4: Protected by Water

Volume 5: Connected to Soil

Do you have plenty of chocolates on hand?

Prologue

With difficulty, Melinda fought to regain consciousness. She was lying on a stone floor, the cold penetrating her thin dress and taking hold of her limbs. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Everything around her was blurry, and nothing was clear. She felt something tugging at her, but there was no one to be seen. She couldn’t make out any nebulous form that could have explained this sensation.

Where was she? What had happened?

Exhausted, she closed her eyes and felt something shaking the very foundations of her magic. It was the spell that had sealed the world-fold where Vincent von Eisenfels had been imprisoned for over thirty years. Something had infiltrated the protective spell, battling it. Vincent. It had to be him. As if in a vision, she saw the fold’s shield before her and watched as a bright flash of light shot into it and snaked through it like veins.

The spell was weakening.

Her hands shook as she tried to open her eyes again, but she couldn't see anything but a strange mixture of gray and brown.

A warm feeling from her spirit animal flowed through her. It sent her images of her granddaughter poking around her hiding place. Mayla was searching for her and she was not alone. She had discovered the chocolates. Hopefully, she detected the hidden magic...

Melinda clenched her hands and tried with all her might to rally her strength. She had let her granddaughter encounter the witch world unprepared. Why hadn’t she brought her back earlier? Mayla was not trained. She hadn't benefited from a magical education or learned the basics of witchcraft from her parents. It had been a mistake to keep her safe for so long, to leave her in the dark.

With determination, she struggled her way back up and squatted on the cold ground, but she immediately faltered, threatening to topple over. Her hands spread wide, she fought to hold herself upright. She had to get out of there before Vincent broke the shield around the world-fold. She couldn’t leave Mayla to her fate alone and had to defend her position as the head of the Fire Circle until her granddaughter was ready to take over.

She blinked listlessly and her surroundings became clearer. A bright glow drifted around her, making it difficult to see, but beyond it she could make out thick gray bars. A grate. She was in a cage. What was going on? Where had she been before all this happened? Who had the power to keep her imprisoned here?

She tried to focus her magic, to feel it in her fingertips, but there was nothing. Meanwhile, the glow around her was growing stronger. What could it be?

Before she could grasp what was happening, her powers escaped her. She slumped to the ground and dozed off, a soft cry on her lips that no one heard: "Mayla..."

Chapter One

An infinitely vast landscape extended from the base of a tall cliff. Mountains, valleys, forests, and rivers painted a breathtaking picture of untouched nature that is rarely seen. It seemed that hardly any humans had disturbed the peace of this natural paradise and left footprints behind.

A strong wind was blowing and shook the branches of the pines growing high up on the rocks. There was nobody to be seen. But there was a twinkling light that grew brighter and brighter until, from out of nowhere, a woman materialized on the cliff. Dark brown strands came loose from the clip that pinned her hair to the back of her head and fluttered in her beaming face. Her grin spread from ear to ear. She raised her arms, thrust her fists skyward, and shouted, "I can do it!"

"About time, Mayla!" Behind her, a man tall enough to stand out in any crowd – if he were to move in such large groups – stepped out from the shadows of the conifers. A slight smile appeared under his three-day beard and he crossed his sinewy arms in front of his chest.

"It didn't take me all that long to learn the spell!" She pursed her lips indignantly and also crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Where did Georg go?"

"To where he belongs."

"Tom! You haven't done something…?"

Again, his fine lips curled into a faint smile. "To your cop?"

"He's not my cop!" She marched up to him, waving her arms in anger, and several small twigs broke from the branches above his head and blew away.

Tom didn't even look up. "You need to learn to focus your magic and not send it into the world without purpose."

"I thought you didn't want to be my teacher. At Donnersberg Castle you slipped away and left my witch training to dear Violett."

He raised his dark brows. "Did she not do well?"

"Yes, she did." A wistful smile stole across her lips. "I wonder how she's doing? If she misses me and our classes?" She hadn't confided in anyone that she’d suspected Violett of being the traitor who’d revealed her grandmother's hiding place to the opposition. But she’d been immensely relieved when since Marianna Lauber, the solitary, staid bookworm, was unmasked as an informer at Donnersberg Castle. Although they did have to reckon with more traitors, Violett's reasons for being friendly were no longer grounds for suspicion. Of all the new people — or rather, witches – she’d met in the past few weeks, Violett was the only one she could call a friend.

"She’s definitely as prickly as they come."

"Hey, how could you say such things about her?"

He laughed softly. "Knowing Violett, she misses those hours with you..."

Kind words? The look in Tom's green eyes still made her weak in the knees, but she had learned to hide it.

Tom continued, "... because she loves bossing people around."

Mayla snorted. "Ha ha! I wonder if I could meet her some time for..."

He shook his head before she finished the sentence. "You know it's too..."

"…Too dangerous. Yes, I know how you and Georg feel about it. It's the only subject you agree on." She blew a strand of hair out of her face, and no sooner had she done that than it started to crackle. She quickly patted the spark she’d caused with her breath just as Georg materialized in front of her. He landed so close to her that she had to take a step back to keep from falling right into his arms.

He lifted his nose and sniffed. "What's burning?"

"Nothing!" For good measure, she patted the scorched strand of hair again and tucked it behind her ears — it was not the first she'd hidden in her updo. If she didn't get a better handle on her magic soon, she was going to look like a plucked bird. Her powers were increasing more rapidly than she was mastering them, which led to constant mishaps.

Tom eyed Georg suspiciously. She didn't understand why the two of them couldn't put their animosity aside.

"Did you find anything out?" he asked the policeman.

No "Hello" or "How are you?"

Georg eyed Tom contemptuously, as if he were considering telling him. Finally, he ignored him and turned to Mayla. "Marianna, the traitor, hasn't contacted anyone from the precinct since planting the bewitched amulet key on you and betraying us to the hunters."

Mayla slid her heart-shaped pendant back and forth on her necklace. "That's interesting. And she hasn't been back to Donnersberg Castle either, has she, Tom?"

He merely shook his head, then stepped up beside her to gaze out at the endless landscape before them. "I'll go to the castle tonight for dinner and ask around." Although he didn't look at Georg, his next words were clearly for him. "Will you look after her?"

Mayla put her hands on her hips and looked angrily from Georg to Tom. "I don't need a chaperone. I'm thirty-two years old and quite capable of taking care of myself."

The men grinned without looking at each other. "I'll stick around."

"Good, I'll see you later." Without another word or friendly gesture of any kind, Tom grabbed his amulet key and muttered, "Perduce me in arcem!" Sparks of light swirled around him and in the next moment, he was gone.

Georg immediately smiled at her. "How are you?"

"Great. I managed to jump by myself." She clenched her hands into victory fists and grinned broadly.

"Good. That's a great accomplishment. I'm proud of you." He looked so deeply into her chocolate-brown eyes that she took an embarrassed step backward and lowered her gaze. She had noticed the way he looked at her, but she didn't want to jeopardize their friendship by encouraging him to say the things that were burning in his heart. Georg was a rock for her, much like her father— Peter Falk, who unfortunately was under a spell and therefore believed her to be his biological daughter — had been for her.

She hadn't gone to visit her parents to see if they still remembered her, now that the spell was broken and Mayla's powers unlocked. She kept putting it off, using the excuse that she didn't want to put Anneliese and Peter Falk in danger. She hated to think of what would happen if the hunters were to find out!

The two of them knew nothing about the witch world, world-folds, or Mayla's true origins. They had no idea she was the granddaughter of the infamous Fire Witch, Melinda von Flammenstein, the head witch of the Fire Circle. The two of them lived in their peaceful human world without the faintest inkling that witches lived among them, that magic existed, and that a brutal wizard had killed Mayla's true parents.

And if Georg expressed his feelings, revealed how he felt about her — and she rebuffed him... how would he react? Would he settle for being her friend? What if he couldn't? What if he too disappeared from her life? Hopefully, he would never say anything that would destroy their familiar bond.

The sun was low and the tall pines cast long shadows on the cliffs. "Where are we going to spend the night?" she asked, trying to steer the conversation to a safer topic. "In the woods again?" Even though it was supposed to be healthy, she could no longer stand this smell, night after night, that reminded her of an herbal bath soak. Whatever happened to good old city air?

He smirked. "See down there?" He pointed to the area at the base of the cliff. "There's a little inn."

"There is? You couldn't have mentioned that earlier?"

He merely shrugged. Was it because this was going to be the first evening, possibly even the first night, they would be spending without Tom around?

"It looks like no one has ever been down there. Where is this supposed building?" She squinted, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't identify any structures made by human hands.

"It’s hidden, and very small. Not many witches even know it's there. A real insider tip. Doesn't appear in any brochures. Come, I'll take you there." He held out his hand to her invitingly, but she hesitated.

"What about the hunters? Isn't it too dangerous to stay in a hotel? If they discover our trail, we won't even be safe from them in this world-fold..."

"I'll watch over you — if necessary, I'll cast a shield spell over you. And if you feel uncomfortable, we can always leave. I promise."

She tilted her head. "All right, then. But we'll be back here on time tomorrow morning to meet Tom."

He rolled his eyes pointedly. "Don't worry, that good-for-nothing won't keep looking for your grandma without us."

"Don't call him that!"

Defensively, he raised his hands in front of his chest. "Okay, okay. By the way, I've been meaning to discuss something with you in private."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. He wasn't going to...?

"You and I need a secret meeting place in case things go wrong and we get separated."

"In case I jump into foreign territory so fast that you can't follow me?"

He grinned. "I was thinking of something more serious, like being spotted by the hunters and having to run away separately. If there's an emergency, we'll meet here, agreed?"

"Up here on the cliff? Even though Tom knows about this place?" she teased, which he of course immediately noticed.

"You little witch... Yes, even though Tom knows about this place. Maybe I'll hide in the woods among the pines so that outlaw can't find me." He winked at her, but before she could fly into a rage at the name he’d called Tom, he raised his hands in a placating manner. "Come on, I'm taking you to dinner. You must be hungry for some good old home cooking, right?"

Her mouth watered just at the thought of it. Ever since she'd been on the run with Georg and Tom, they'd been living hand-to-mouth because those two believed it was too risky for all three of them to show their faces in public.

Neither man trusted the other, and being around them made Mayla feel suffocated. But a few days before, out of the blue, Georg had announced that he wanted to stop by the precinct to gather information — besides, staying away from the police station for too long could arouse suspicion. Ever since he’d ventured away from Mayla, Tom seemed inclined to trust Georg enough to leave her alone with him for a few hours. Oddly enough, Mayla would have expected it to have been the other way around, but Tom hadn’t left her side for a moment until Georg had made himself scarce for a few hours. Tom was difficult to figure out.

Since then, she’d been able to discover just how relaxing it was to be with only one of the men, since the two were constantly at each other's throats. Supposedly it was just women — never men — who were insufferable when they didn’t like each other but still had to spend time together. Yeah, right. Over the past few days, Mayla had had the honor of seeing that this wasn't the case.

"All right, let's go eat. Your treat." She winked at him. "Besides, there's no reason for us to jump together. Just tell me the destination in Latin and I'll use my own amulet key." She exuberantly clasped her small hand around the amulet dangling from her neck on a coarse-linked chain that disappeared under the collar of her blouse.

A week before, Tom had surprised her by handing her an amulet key when she’d woken up. He’d already had it when Mayla had secretly left Donnersberg Castle to visit her apartment. Evidently, since then he’d spoken with Georg at nighttime, long after she’d fallen asleep, about whether it had been wise to give her a key or not. She hadn't overheard any of this, but the exchange of looks and insinuations between the two spoke volumes...

Of course it had been wise to give her a key! After that, she’d practiced jumping from world-fold to world-fold nonstop — along with, much to her chagrin, basic Latin words. She needed to be able to jump on her own as soon as possible without relying on others to translate the destination.

She would have been happy if she could have returned to her apartment to fetch the Latin dictionary she’d gotten from the friendly bookseller. He’d gifted it to her before she’d realized she was a witch and that it would be useful to her one day. But when the hunters had taken her by surprise, she hadn’t had the time to grab it. Now the men considered it too dangerous for her to go back to her apartment. In all likelihood, the hunters were monitoring her home in the hopes of intercepting and... killing her.

Besides, Mayla feared Heike would pay her apartment another visit. She’d been thinking about her friend a lot lately, imagining them sitting together over a cup of coffee and a box of fudge as she told her about her new life. Her friend was surely beside herself with worry.

For a while, Mayla had been thinking about sending a message to Heike so she'd know she was okay and came up with the idea of writing her a letter. She told Georg about it, who was more understanding of such things than Tom, and he’d dropped it in her friend's mailbox. However, she wasn't convinced that this would satisfy Heike. But the most important thing was that her friend was safe from the hunters.

Icy shivers still ran down her spine every time she thought about the leader of the brutal wizards and how narrowly they’d escaped him and his gang of thugs. That had been the moment Tom and Georg first set aside their animosity so as to save her.

Georg shook his head. "Let's jump together. You're still a beginner and if you don't do it right..."

"No." She gave him a resolute look. "It's the perfect opportunity to practice. Besides, I just succeeded on my own. And if I don't do it right, I won't be leaving here, right?"

He ran his hand through his copper-red beard. "There have been other cases, too. When my great-aunt Lydia was a young witch, she misspoke one time and she ended up in a world-fold in Alaska in the middle of a blizzard instead of the neighbor's barbecue — and she was wearing an airy summer dress."

"How will I ever learn if I don't try? If I get stranded somewhere else, I'll simply say 'Perduce me ad scopulos Rheni' and I'll end up back here on the cliffs in the Rhineland. By the way, I'd still like to walk to the end of this world-fold to see where the Rhine comes out again in the normal world. You said we're between Loreley Rock and Koblenz, right? How exciting it must be to see one of the castle cruise ships suddenly appear where the world-fold ends."

"I'll show it to you another time. All right, if you want to try it, the inn is called 'Zur Waldesruh' and translated for magic, it's called..."

"Stop. Let me try." She furrowed her brow pensively and stared up into the sky, which was gradually turning pink. "Perduce me ad silvam silenti?"

"Not bad at all. But you'd be jumping into the quiet forest, the 'ruhigen Wald.'"

She laughed. "Does that even exist?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Not that I know of. You still have to put the word 'inn' into your spell. Do you remember the Latin word for it?"

Mayla pondered. "De... di... da... deversorium. Ha! Right?"

Smiling, he nodded. "Good. You're a diligent student."

Of course she was, since she wanted her boundless independence back and to free her grandma! And of course her fear of the hunters also played a role. She wanted to be better prepared before she encountered them again.

"So how do you say the complete spell?"

He watched her work it out in her brain and the corners of his mouth started twitching again. She sensed this but didn't let it distract her. In a flash, she fumbled for the amulet key around her neck and clasped it before Georg could stop her. "Perduce me ad deversorium silvae silentis!"

The green pines, the gray rocky cliffs, and her friend's stunned face all blurred before her eyes as she lifted off the rock. Less than two seconds later, she felt solid ground under her feet and found herself in front of a quaint inn that blended in perfectly with the deciduous forest. It was made entirely of wood: the porch, the stairs, the doors, the window frames — even the walls were wood. The building appeared to be so small that it could not possibly have had more than five guest rooms.

Georg materialized beside her and grabbed her around the waist. "You little witch, you..." He threw her over his shoulder and carried her up the three steps to the porch.

Laughing, she drummed her fists on his back. "Put me down, you..."

"You... what?"

"You miserable runt!"

"Runt?" He laughed out loud. "Says the person who's barely tall enough to drive a car." He had mercy and set her back on her feet.

Grinning, she put her hands on her hips and looked at him. "Yeah, right, Alaska. See? I'm not that bad at world-fold jumping after all. If this were a sport, I'd finally have a chance at winning a medal. Admit it."

"I admit it. Can we please have dinner now? I need another breaded schnitzel and a stout." He stepped up to the door, opened it, and held it open for Mayla. "Ladies first."

They entered the inn cheerfully.

Chapter Two

The inn was conspicuously quiet. Did they have the day off? No, it smelled too darn good — of roasted mushrooms and ragout. She walked down a short hallway, following her nose.

Georg had to duck his head as they entered the small taproom, which didn't even have seats for ten. They lined the walls, with each table by a window that overlooked the forest. All the furniture, including the counter and floor, was made of wood, exuding a warm, cozy atmosphere.

There were two couples at two different tables. The guests looked up with interest when Mayla and Georg entered the room.

"Good evening," Georg said in greeting, like a thoroughbred pub-goer. The couples returned the salutation and then turned to their dishes again, which looked exceedingly appetizing.

Mayla headed for an empty spot some distance from the other patrons and Georg followed. They had just sat down across from each other when a slender woman stepped up to the table, holding a wand instead of an order pad.

"Welcome to my inn, the Zur Waldesruh. My name is Anja. Would you like to have dinner?"

Mayla's stomach grumbled loudly and she put a hand on it, grinning. "Absolutely."

Anja waved her wand, and then two menus emerged from behind the counter and flew toward them. They landed with a flourish on the table in front of them and flipped open all on their own. "May I take your drink order?"

Georg was already studying the dishes. "A stout, thank you."

Joyfully, Mayla flipped through the menu of offered wines. "What white wine do you recommend?"

"The Muskat Silvaner is from this region. It's very refreshing."

She decided to try it. The innkeeper retreated behind the bar, where there was a tankard already hovering under the tap and a cork popped from a wine bottle. Mayla still hadn't gotten used to the sight of floating objects and self-operating machines. She watched with interest as the tap dispensed beer into the stein and the bottle of wine poured into a glass while Anja strolled through a swinging door into the kitchen.

She hadn't had many opportunities to observe such things lately. Since she'd been traveling with Georg and Tom, they'd stayed away from any form of civilization — and it wasn't two weeks ago that she'd learned that she was a witch and that there were world-folds that ordinary people could neither see nor enter.

She peered curiously at the other guests. The two other occupied tables were close to each other but the partners were gazing longingly at one another, oblivious to anybody else. This little inn was probably a romantic hideaway. Hopefully, Georg wouldn't read too much into the fact that she'd come there with him. She leaned back to put some distance between them when their drinks arrived. The tankard and the glass of wine flew to their table and landed in front of them. Immediately, they both took a big sip and let out a contented sigh. So refreshing!

Georg propped his forearms on the table and leaned toward her. "What have you been doing all afternoon?"

"Practicing the amulet spell."

"Nothing else?"

She shrugged. "Nothing else." She peered stealthily at the other guests, who didn't seem to care, and leaned forward a bit. "Did you find out any news at the station about my grandma?"

He shook his head regretfully. "Still nothing. It's strange. Melinda von Flammenstein has been missing for over four weeks now and no one has seen or heard from her. I just don't get it. Who has the power to kidnap such a powerful witch?"

She tapped her poorly manicured fingernails on the table. "We should check out her hideout again. She was holed up there for weeks, after all."

"My colleagues and I literally turned the house upside-down several times in search of clues. There's nothing to find." He stroked his red stubble. "I wonder if Tom and his outlaw friends were telling the truth."

"Don't call them that! You know they're not..." There was no point chastising him. She waved it off and a napkin sailed over the edge of the table. Georg caught it before it landed on the floor. Unbelievable. Even the slightest movement of her hands sent objects flying.

Georg casually glanced at the guests and the hostess, but no one seemed to have noticed Mayla's magical faux pas. If it were to come out that she was a descendant of the famous von Flammensteins, the founding family of the Fire Circle, they would no longer be able to show their faces in public. And since she could cast spells without a wand, which only members of the founding families were able to do, it was only a matter of time before a careless move would attract unnecessary attention. Georg gave her a warning look and she crossed her arms in front of her chest, just to be on the safe side.

"Besides, I found my grandmother's chocolate, that Nunto... that message spell she used to enlighten me about my origins."

"Nuntia spell." He nodded. "That's the only reason I'm willing to believe this insane story. After all, we're talking about Melinda von Flammenstein, one of the most powerful witches of these last centuries. Even before she graduated from high school, she was standing up for anyone who was bullied and she was better at witchcraft than many of the teachers who gave her final exams."

"What are you saying?"

"She's a powerful, courageous woman... simply not the type of person to hide. Something about the story isn't right."

Again she tapped the table with the nail of her index finger. "Tell me again exactly how you and the police experienced the events."

He took a big swig of beer, leaned back, and crossed his arms behind his head. "Melinda has always been active as head of the Fire Circle. For years, she's been warning that Vincent von Eisenfels and his followers might present a danger. But since he's been trapped in the fold that she had locked him in, everyone else seemed to dismiss the threat. To them, von Eisenfels was the only true adversary, the only real source of danger that could bring down your grandmother and with her, the power of the Four Circles. When he was captured, the danger seemed to be averted and the preservation of order secured. However, to be honest, I must mention that the head witch of my coven, Alessia De Fonte, is still afraid. Why else would she not have left the Water Circle headquarters since... your parents were murdered?"

"That's what Tom told me, too. Do you actually know where the headquarters of my coven, the Fire Circle, is?"

He shook his head. "I don't think it's wise for you to show up there, because then the whole world would know you exist, that Melinda has an heiress. You should only do so once..."

"... Once my witch training is completed, I know." She rolled her eyes. Patience was a virtue she wasn't born with. "I'd love to know who the members of the council are — after all, they've been running our coven since my grandma disappeared, so they're among my prime suspects. If I were to go there, it would give me an opportunity to dig around..."

"Mayla, no! Trust me, you're not ready — even the good-for-nothing agrees with me."

"I understand. It was just a thought. So, what did the police say happened four weeks ago?"

"Melinda disappeared overnight. Dropped off the face of the earth. No one from her coven has been able to contact her, the police didn't know where she was, and she didn't say a word to anyone about going into hiding."

Amused, she tilted her head. "Then hiding wouldn't have been terribly useful, would it?"

"She could at least have said something in an official capacity."

"She probably didn't know who to trust from the police or the council. It's obvious she was in a hurry. Something must have happened that compelled her to take that step... to release my powers after more than thirty years."

"Why didn't she confide in anyone?"

"She did. Artus and Angelika von Donnersberg knew she was hiding, as did the Inner Circle of the opposition."

"That's what they claim."

"My family and the von Donnersbergs have been close friends for generations. It stands to reason that she confided in them."

"How would you know your families are friends? Who told you that? Your grandmother or the von Donnersberg family?"

"Angelika von Donnersberg told me and showed me countless photos."

"She's a witch — photos are easy to fake..."

"I believe her. You simply won't admit that in the police, there could be who knows how many traitors..."

"That's the rhetoric of those outside the law... like your scoundrel friend Tom."

"He's not my scoundrel friend!"

"Why do you believe him over me?"

"I believe you. I believe both of you! But I also have a mind of my own. My grandma left me a message in the form of a chocolate. How could she have done that as a prisoner?"

"Melinda von Flammenstein would know how."

She rolled her eyes again and glanced toward the kitchen. It was incredible how stubborn he was. "Where is the innkeeper? Talking about the bewitched chocolate has made me even hungrier. I wonder if they also have dessert. Chocolate pudding would be great."

As if on cue, Anja floated through the swinging door toward their table, holding a wand in her hand instead of an order pad. "Have you two decided?"

Mayla ordered the mushroom ragout and Georg his obligatory schnitzel. After the innkeeper departed and disappeared into the kitchen, where it started to rattle and clang, Mayla leaned forward again. "I want to go back to the house where my grandmother was hiding. I did find the enchanted chocolate."

"I don't think..."

"Tom and I were interrupted last time. I didn't get to search everything. It's about time we make some progress — who knows what's happening to my grandma right now and if she's in danger!" She pointed to the amulet key, which was visible from under her blouse. "Tomorrow, I'm going with or without the two of you."

"Remember, the police consider the house a crime scene. There's also a spell that will immediately report uninvited guests."

"I thought you were the chief inspector. If you say you're going there — who's going to stop you?"

Grinning, he leaned forward. "If you insist... But I'm going alone."

"You searched the house enough without us. Tom and I might find something you and the other cops missed."

"What if one of my colleagues comes by and sees you? Or Tom? I'm sure he'll insist on coming along too."

"We've been mulling it over for almost two weeks without coming to any conclusions. We don't have a choice. It's about time we find my grandma. Tomorrow, I'm going to that house and you can't talk me out of it. So, are you going to join me?"

He nodded in defeat, though his discomfort was obvious. A little later, two plates floated out of the kitchen onto their table and they feasted on the delicious food. After they finished, they asked the innkeeper for two rooms for the night and retired.

After wishing him a good night, she closed her door and looked around the small room. Everything was made of wood, just as she'd expected; the floor, the wide bedframe, and even the walls and ceiling were paneled in wood.

Exhausted, she fell onto the bed, which was too soft for her comfort. Thankfully, over the last few weeks, she had learned quite a bit of magic. She put her hands on the mattress and closed her eyes, focusing as she imagined the perfect surface to lie on — one that supported her back while not being so soft that she would sink into it. Energy tickled her fingertips and she murmured, "Converte!" She stroked the bed, examining it. Perfect.

Nearly two weeks before, when she had spent the first night with the two men in the woods because it was too dangerous everywhere else, she had insisted on learning a spell to replicate her fluffy pillow and the dreamy comfy bed from home. Okay, the men had admittedly helped her every night, but now she could do it herself.

Lying down on the bed, she pulled out the crocheted blanket that her foster mother, Anneliese Falk, had made for her. She deeply inhaled the familiar scent, which now was more a feeling of home than an actual smell. For the first time in two weeks, she was alone for the entire night. Unfortunately, she was out of chocolates, which was something of a catastrophe. A few chocolates would have made the evening perfect. The supplies in her purse had long since been depleted and it wasn't possible to conjure food, as she had learned with a heavy heart.

She stretched blissfully, enjoying the peace and quiet. It wasn't that the two men talked nonstop – she was probably the one who yapped the most – but there was extreme tension between Georg and Tom that left little doubt as to how much they despised each other.

The silence was heavenly. But wait — there was something. A high-pitched noise. Was someone shouting? No, it wasn't human, it was an animal. A cat.

Immediately, she leaped up and peered outside. A black cat was sitting on the window sill. "Kitty!" Beaming, she opened the window and took the animal in her arms. "Hello, favorite cat of mine. I haven't seen you in so long. Why do you only come to me when I'm alone?"

The cat mewed and immediately began to purr, holding her little head toward her. Mayla smiled and put her forehead against the animal's. They remained in silent harmony for a moment.

"Why is it that you are Tom's spirit animal and not mine...?"

A crow screeched, snapping them out of their shared moment. Kitty turned her head toward the woods and hissed.

"It's only a bird..." Tenderly, Mayla stroked her little head and closed the window. She carried the animal to the bed and lay down beside it.

Kitty purred as she kneaded Mayla's chest. "Gee, you've put on weight. What old lady is fattening you up, Kitty? Next time, ask her if she has some chocolate for me." Kitty purred. "Does that mean yes?" Mayla laughed and stroked the animal's soft fur. How many times had the cat saved her and warned her when the groups that preyed on outcasts were nearby? But now, she was calm and relaxed, and there was no danger.

"You know, Kitty, I wonder how my grandma is doing. She must still be alive or Vincent von Eisenfels would have escaped the world-fold by now. Who has the power to kidnap my grandma and doesn't even brag about their success? It's like a big cover-up. I wonder who's behind it."

Kitty purred. Unfortunately, Mayla couldn't see any images or feel anything. She communicated with the faithful creature no differently than any normal person would with their pet. The cat only sent images and feelings to Tom, so why did she keep showing up where Mayla was?

"If you don't want to be Tom's spirit animal anymore, all you have to do is send me an image and I'll tell him, no problem. I would take excellent care of you, I promise. And I'd give you at least as much food as the person who's been feeding you lately." She tousled Kitty's fur, laughing. Such a sweet kitty. Hopefully, her spirit animal would be as loyal a companion, too.

Kneading with her paws, Kitty curled up next to her on the bed. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, purring steadily. Mayla stared at the beautiful animal and sighed. When would her spirit animal finally make contact with her?

Chapter Three

As the sun rose, casting its rays through the pines onto the cliffs, Georg and Mayla materialized almost simultaneously on top of the high rock. Tom stepped out of the shadows of the tall trees.

"There you are, finally. Didn't you sleep in the forest?"

She shook her head and Georg puffed out his chest. "We made ourselves comfortable in a cozy inn."

Mayla rolled her eyes. Was the cockfight already starting? Purposefully, she took a step away from him toward Tom. He seemed tired. He must not have gotten much sleep the night before. "Did you find out anything at Donnersberg Castle?"

"Artus and Angelika urged me to persuade you to go back to them. They think it's too dangerous for you to travel alone."

She shook her head impatiently. "Like I'm a child... What else? Did Marianna show up?"

"No," Tom said. "Nobody's seen that treacherous snake since the night she foisted that bewitched amulet on you." He'd obviously learned more, she could tell. He must not have wanted to divulge it in front of Georg. He still didn't trust him, there was no question about that. The men were already having their first duel of the morning with their eyes, so Mayla deliberately placed herself between them.

"I've decided that we're going to go back to the house where my grandmother was hiding before she was kidnapped."

Georg folded his arms across his chest. "I already searched it several times with my colleagues. I don't think we can..."

"Georg! We already discussed this. Either you join us or we go alone!"

"He can stay here if he wants," Tom murmured. His voice was still deep and raspy, though he certainly was talking more since he'd been with them than he had in the past five years combined. He was a loner — she had to find out why! He still hadn't told her which coven he would have belonged to if he hadn't been living as a so-called outcast. Since he didn't wear a signet ring, there was no way for her to know.

She didn't believe that he had originally belonged to the Fire Circle because he had not taught her simple fire witch tricks like blowing on candles and lamps. And if he had belonged to the Water Circle, he and Georg would have certainly met earlier, which she would have picked up from their conversations somewhere. Therefore, he most likely belonged to the Earth or Air Circle.

"Without me, the police will know right away you're at Melinda's house, and that will land you behind bars," Georg said, pointing at Tom. "Not that I'd mind..."

Tom stretched his back and Mayla's heart beat faster as she admired his tall, sinewy frame. How she would have loved to lean against him, snuggle up to him, and breathe in his smell of meadow and freedom. However, there was this distance between them. This reluctance to touch each other that still emanated more from him than her. Did he also feel a flutter in his stomach when he looked at her? Did his knees weaken when he watched her? Or was she simply one of many who thought he was wonderful and whom he kept at a distance?

Folding his long arms across his chest, he stared at Georg contemptuously. "You certainly aren't going to be stopping me with your childish cop stunts. Shall we, Mayla?"

"Give it a rest, Tom!" Georg knitted his reddish brows. If he hadn't been so tall and broad, people wouldn't have taken him seriously because of his kind nature. But one look from his gray eyes was enough to subdue his subordinates. "I'm going to jump to the station now to check on what my colleagues have planned for today. I'll tell them I'm going to search Melinda's house one last time. That way they won't come by when the alarm spell goes off because someone's entered the crime scene."

Crime scene. Mayla got goosebumps. What a serious term. But it was serious. Dead serious. They needed to find out more about her grandma's disappearance. Not only because Melinda had to make sure the world-fold that Vincent von Eisenfels, who had killed Mayla's parents, was trapped in remained sealed, but also because she was the last living relative Mayla had left. Her biological parents were dead, and her foster parents probably didn't remember her — only her grandmother was still alive. A yearning that was hard to explain gripped her heart. She didn't know this person at all, but she had the urge to free her and embrace her. Hopefully, this would come true soon.

Tom pulled a gold watch hanging from a delicate chain out from an inner pocket of his leather jacket. "We're jumping in twenty minutes."

Georg turned to Mayla and smiled at her. "See you later."

"Later."

They heard him mutter a spell, and a moment later he disappeared. She and Tom were alone and her heart immediately started beating faster. Keep calm. He certainly didn't feel the same way about her — otherwise, he wouldn't be acting so distant. Shoot. How was she supposed to make twenty minutes go by without him noticing her nervousness?

"Here." Without another word, he held a box under her nose.

She frowned. Wait a minute. He'd brought her... "Chocolates?" Her heart stopped beating momentarily as she eyed the box of treats in disbelief, then Tom. He merely nodded, but she thought she noticed a twitch beneath his three-day beard.

"You brought me chocolates?" Her hand trembled as she reached for the box.

"I couldn't stand to watch you suffer any longer." A strand of dark hair fell across his forehead as he tilted his head and placed the box in her hand.

She blinked several times, incredulous. "What an exquisite assortment. I don't know what to say..."

"Enjoy."

Uncertain, she glanced up. Was now the moment to embrace him, to close the distance? Her heart beat faster and she took a clumsy step toward him. For a moment, she thought he was inching closer too, but then he immediately waved her off, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned against the trunk of a pine tree. "Don't mention it. By the way, quite a few things have changed at the castle."

Okay, a change of subject. That was fast, as usual. Every time she thought he wanted to hug or touch her, he quickly turned away from her. He didn't want her to get close to him. Had he noticed her intention? Why was he keeping this distance between them — and yet give her chocolates? Chocolates!

"Wait a minute!" She raised her hand as if to stop traffic and glanced at the box. She opened it and solemnly took out a dark chocolate ball, which, judging by the smell, must have been filled with marzipan. As if in slow motion, she popped the candy into her mouth and closed her eyes. Marzipan. She had been right, as always. And there was something else... a hint of cinnamon. Heavenly.

My God, she had never gone without chocolate for so long. Still, she would never have believed it possible for the taste to improve through deprivation! The candy melted on her tongue and Mayla relaxed. She savored the sweet with every fiber of her being before she swallowed it and turned her attention back to Tom. "Delicious. Thank you!" She held the box out to him invitingly. "Would you like one?"

"No, thank you." He looked at her seriously. "You know I don't trust Georg."

She was about to interrupt him when he raised his hand.

"Stop, let me finish. I don't believe he wants to hurt you, but I don't imagine our involuntarily assembled team extends this consideration to me. It could very well be that he and his colleagues are setting a trap. If that is the case, I will escape. But at first you should stay by Georg's side, for your safety. As soon as he's not watching you, jump to Lake Constance. Do you remember the café where we met Rupert Tauber, the detective?"

Mayla frowned and nodded.

"We'll find each other there or in the vicinity of that café. All right?"

"May I speak again?"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "Certainly."

"I informed Georg that if he locks you up or ambushes you, he'll have to deal with me."

"So he knows." He reached for his amulet key. "The spell to get to the café is 'Perduce me ad lacum Brigantinum'. Can you remember that?"

"I guess you have no idea how many Latin words I've memorized over the last few days! A few more are a piece of cake. So, lacus brigantinus means Lake Constance." She pointed to her head. "It's in there forever now."

"I hope so."

"What else did you learn at Donnersberg Castle?"

He looked at her with a frown and she sighed.

"You didn't reveal anything in front of Georg just now. Don't make me drag it out of you! So?"

"It's quiet up there."

"Quiet? What else?"

He shrugged. "Nothing new."

"Have you seen Violett? And the others?"

Shaking his head, he took the gold watch out of his inside pocket. "So, the twenty minutes are almost up. Wait here. I'll jump first and if I'm not back in two minutes, you follow, all right?"

"Why should I wait?"

"In case hunters are there."

"I thought the police were guarding the scene?"

"You're forgetting the police force is full of moles who work with the hunters."

"Well if there are some, I'll use the exploding spell I've learned." She pointed her hands at a bush behind Tom and shouted, "Dirumpe!" With that, the bush flew into the air, and its leaves and broken branches scattered down to the ground.

Tom didn't flinch a bit. "Always conjure the shield first. Make sure to remember that."

"Tutare — like I could ever forget that spell. But I need more tricks. When am I going to learn the other attack spells like the one the hunters hit me with?"

"You know when you use those maledictions, you must truly want to hurt your opponent."

The thought caused a shiver to travel down her spine, but she couldn't keep her head down forever, letting others fight her battles. "If someone attacks me and threatens my life, I'll fight back."

"For now the protection spell and the Dirumpe spell will suffice. With them, you'll be able to defend yourself until you can escape or someone comes to your rescue."

That was his standard answer — it was Georg's, too. She was indignant and wanted to convince him otherwise, but her inner voice whispered they were right. She didn't want to harm anyone. She wasn't that kind of a person. Fighting back, yes, but hurting someone... She didn't have any such streak in her and didn't if she ever wanted to be capable of such a thing. "Surely, there are plenty of other curses I could attack with that wouldn't torture someone to death. When will I learn those?"

"All in good time." He peered between the tall pines, listening to see if he could hear anyone, but as had been the case for the past few weeks, they were alone. "Wait two minutes and then jump after me, understand?"

"You can't protect me forever. Sooner or later, I have to learn to defend myself!" Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her amulet key and murmured, "Perduce me in latibulum Melindae!"

Chapter Four

With the help of the amulet, she jumped directly into Melinda's living room, right on the spot where she'd landed the first time with Tom. She held up her hands and, just for good measure, she muttered, "Tutare!" A shimmering bluish shield went up around her and she was able to scan the area at her leisure.

"What are you doing here alone?" Georg rushed toward her from the kitchen, two deep furrows across his forehead. "How dare he send you ahead! I didn't believe he was such a coward."

"I didn't send her ahead at all." Tom had materialized silently next to Mayla and was looking at her with a mixture of approval and seriousness. "At least you cast the protection spell right away."

Grinning, she dissolved the protective shield and Tom turned to Georg.

"How much time do we have before your colleagues show up?"

"Nobody's going to show up here. Last night, five witches were kidnapped, so they are busy working on those cases. Again, their signet rings were taken from them, so the covens can't locate them. My colleagues are working hard to find them. But probably in the next days their corpses will be found, with their magic stolen. I'm hoping you and your gang have nothing to do with it. After all, you weren't with us last night, you were out and about."

Tom ignored the insinuation. "I'll check the living room again — you're welcome to look somewhere else." Without turning his back on them, he directed his attention to the top drawer of an ancient-looking dresser that squeaked when he pulled it open.

"I'll look around the kitchen. Maybe she stashed more chocolates that are past their expiration date." Mayla strolled into the adjoining room and rummaged through the cupboards, but she didn't find anything edible apart from shriveled vegetables and fruit, and nothing else caught her attention.

Georg stood in the middle of the living room with his arms crossed in front of his chest. "My men and I must have searched the house ten times without finding any useful clues. This is a waste of time!" Meanwhile, he kept his eyes on Tom as if he feared he might find something and keep it to himself.

Mayla returned from the kitchen and walked through the narrow hallway to the stairs. "I'm going to rummage through her bedroom." She marched upstairs and encountered a large room and a small bathroom. That was all. The room consisted of a sleeping area and reading nook separated by a medium-sized shelf that had obviously been rifled through several times. How could the officials have been so reckless with her grandmother's belongings? Mayla carefully lined up the various candles and scented oils next to each other, the scents from the vials filling the room. There was rose and something lemony. She wondered what her grandma smelled like.

She was gripped by a sense of belonging. She was standing in the house where her grandma had lived for many weeks and that had served as her hiding place. How much of her life had she spent here? It was a pity the room was so ravaged — otherwise, she would have been able to get a better picture of her and her way of life.

She casually reached for the two picture frames that were lying upside down on the shelf. The glass panes were cracked, with the photographs loose and now askew in the wooden frames. They showed plants that were unfamiliar to her. A large one with purple flowers and a bushy one with small, star-shaped ones. Taking care not to bend them, she took the pictures out of their frames. If her grandmother had framed them, maybe they meant something to her, and Mayla wanted to preserve them for her. As she was doing this, two more photos that had been hidden behind them fell into her hands.

The first picture was of... her... when she had been around seven years old. The photograph had been taken from a distance. Wait. She remembered that day. Back then, she had been in the woods with her parents, jumping over an ankle-deep stream. Happy that she hadn't fallen into the water, she was beaming from ear to ear, tooth gaps and all. Her grandmother must have been nearby and taken the photo.

Her heart leapt with joy. She had been watching her, had been near her, and had made sure that no unwelcome witches got close. Smiling, she pressed the photo to her chest. Warmth flowed through her and a feeling of security enveloped her like a soft cloak.

She reached for the other photo... and tears welled up in her eyes. It was a picture of her parents... with a baby. Emma and Markus were beaming at the camera. Her mother's red curls were ruffled by the wind and as she looked into her father's eyes, it was like she was seeing herself. The two of them seemed so happy. On her mother's arm, wrapped in delicate yellow cloth, was a tiny infant that was tightly gripping her father's index finger with a tiny hand. Was it her? Who else could it be? A cousin? A nephew? A neighbor's child? No. It wasn't anyone else. It was her.

She had no idea that a photograph of the three of them existed. After all, she had been only two weeks old when her parents had been killed and her grandmother had taken her to Anneliese and Peter Falk. She stared longingly at the photograph and lost herself completely. Her parents were standing in a meadow with a small house in the background exuding coziness. Was that her home? The place where her parents had hidden and she'd been born?

Firm footfalls on the stairs snapped her back to reality.

"I've searched everywhere up there. I don't see why you both need to look through the bedroom again." It was Georg. The stairs creaked under the solid steps of the men coming up from the ground floor. She quickly slipped the pictures into her purse and set the ruined frames back on the dresser.

"Find anything yet?" asked Tom, who had to duck because the ceiling was so low.

"Nothing that's going to help us. But I'm not done yet." As casually as possible, she moved a candle from left to right as if she were still searching. She didn't want it to seem like she was hiding something! The photos were her treasures. She wanted to look at them in peace before letting others see them.

Georg followed Tom. "At the risk of repeating myself, what else would there be to find if several trained police officers have already searched this house?"

Like you'd know, popped into Mayla's head. "Comments like that won't get us anywhere. Either help, Georg, or wait downstairs." Curious, she turned her attention to the reading nook. A monstrous armchair covered in patches stood next to the small window, which offered a view of a large walnut tree. Perched on a branch was a crow that cawed loudly when it noticed Mayla.

Was this the same crow that had been sitting in the tree outside her room at the inn? Was it following her? Why? Surely, this was not her spirit animal! She would much rather have had a cat, preferably Kitty — but of course that wasn't possible. But at least another animal that was nice to cuddle with.

"Tell me again which animals can be spirit animals?" she asked, as casually as possible.

"Cats, owls, and crows, why?" Georg replied.

"Just asking."

"Has an animal approached you?"

"No!" She probably answered too quickly. As she glanced at the crow, it tilted its head and she quickly looked away so the black bird wouldn't get the wrong idea and assume she wanted it as her spirit animal!

"Well, an animal should be on its way to you. After all, your powers awoke nearly four weeks ago."

"When do spirit animals usually come to you? When you're still a child?" Needing to distract him, she pretended to inspect the little ceramic gnomes on the windowsill for anything odd.

"Shortly after birth. They sort of track the child until they can understand their communication, which is usually before their first birthday."

"That early? How are babies supposed to talk to them?"

Georg grinned. "Spirit animals don't talk to us either, they send us images and feelings. At that age, children are already able to communicate with their spirit animals through emotions."

"I imagine that would be nice." It was a shame she'd been denied that experience. Well, the main thing was that her spirit animal wasn't the crow in that tree there! If she ignored it long enough, maybe it would leave and a cuddlier animal would take its place. It was worth a try.

She turned from the window and went through the pile of books on the side table. As expected, they were nonfiction books about plants and history — obviously her grandma's two favorite subjects. Without expecting much, she picked up the top one, which, according to the title, was devoted to the forgotten medicinal herbs of centuries past, and flipped through it. Maybe there was a note hidden in one of them. As she was glancing through the last tome, she still hadn't found any clues. She was about to close the book when a stamp caught her eye. She opened the cover again and looked at the title page. "These are library books!"

Tom was down on his knees, running his hand under the wardrobe. "That's nothing out of the ordinary considering your grandmother's reading habits. All the books she was interested in wouldn't fit in her house anyway — even if she'd used this hideout for storage."

"We have to return them. Otherwise, my grandma will have to pay late fees."

Grinning, Georg stepped up beside her. "Mayla, we have far more pressing matters to attend to than returning your grandma's library books."

"Says who?" Tom stepped away from the wardrobe and looked over her shoulder. "It could be a clue. Why would she have books here? She must have read them recently or she wanted us to return them. Maybe..."

Georg shook his head. "That's a lot of speculation."

Mayla looked straight at him. "Could be the case, though."

"All right." He heaved a sigh. "What library are they from?"

She glanced at the stamp. "Ulmen City. Where the heck is that?"

"It's an all-witch town located in the Harz Mountains. I don't think it would be wise for the three of us to show up there. Someone from my precinct might be there and see us together..."

"So just Tom and I will jump and you'll wait at our regular spot."

Georg's expression darkened. "That's not what I had in mind. It would be much wiser for you to stay here!" He glared at Tom.

Calmly, Tom crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why? Because the opposition loves to confide in cops like you?"

Mayla raised her arms, like a referee,. "Your constant arguing is getting on my nerves. Pull yourselves together! No one will see us if we jump right in front of the library — or even directly inside. A little optimism never hurt anyone." Georg drew in a breath to protest, but she didn't give him the chance. "Whoever objects, we'll meet back up at the Rhenish cliffs! So, the saying is 'Perduce me in...', correct? Drat, what was 'library' in Latin again?"

Georg grinned and took the four books from her hand. "Bibliotheca."

"Well, that's easy enough to remember. And what do I say for Ulmen City?"

"The saying is 'Perduce me ad bibliothecam municipii ulmi,'" Tom interrupted impatiently. "Now let's get going."

"Have you finished searching downstairs?"

Tom nodded and clutched the amulet key. Georg and Mayla did the same and murmured the spell. The colors of the bedroom swirled around them and they lifted off the carpet. A moment later, they were standing on solid ground again in the middle of Ulmen City.

Chapter Five

Mayla's heels clicked as they hit the cobblestones. She took a few steps forward, astonished, and looked around.

They were in the middle of a small town where most of the surrounding buildings must have been several hundred years old. Most were half-timbered houses with red geraniums, pansies, or violets growing in windowsill boxes. They were built wall to wall and bordered the village's wide thoroughfare, where numerous people had come to shop. At the end of the main street there stood a stone monument. Did it depict people? Mayla squinted and took a few steps toward it when Georg grabbed her.

"Wait a minute, madam. We were going to the library, not to take a stroll through town."

"Is this an all-witch town? I mean, how big is it? Do ordinary people live at the edge of the world-fold?"

Tom shook his head. "No, only witches. We're in a large, wooded area in the middle of the Harz Mountains. Ulmen City is a centuries-old witch settlement that is located at the center of a great fold. Now, let's go."

He walked up the broad steps to the library, which, as a neoclassical villa, stood out from the row of modest half-timbered houses. In order to see the building properly, Mayla tilted her head far back. Impressed, she stopped.

"What a beautiful building. The four columns in front and the reliefs... But this seems to have been built more recently. It's not as old as the other structures, right?"

Georg walked up the steps beside her. "Yes, this is one of the largest witch libraries in Europe. One hundred and fifty years ago, the town council decided to erect a new building — one that was larger and redesigned to fit the architecture of the time, which is why it turned out to be a neoclassical structure. Its purpose was to house the collected magical knowledge of the past centuries in one place. Wait until you're inside and see the high ceilings and stucco molding. That was artisanal sorcery!"

They stepped through the wide double doors, which even Tom didn't have to awkwardly duck his head to get through, and they found themselves in a spacious lobby that led off into several hallways. In the center was an antique wood desk where an old man sat writing on parchment with a goose quill. The scratching sound was the only thing that punctuated rather than disturbed the tranquility of the venerable building.

The librarian heard them, or at least the sound of Mayla's heels hitting the gleaming marble floor. He calmly stuck the quill into a delicate holder and peered over the rim of his reading glasses. There were only a few white hairs left on his head, which he had combed from left to right over his bald scalp. There were too many wrinkles around his light blue eyes to count, but his gaze was clear and alert, as was his mind. He wore a shirt, a bow tie, and a vest, just like the antiquarian who had...

Mayla froze. She knew this man. It couldn't be...

"Welcome, Mayla von Flammenstein, to the Ulmen City Library. My name is Arnold Binder. I've been expecting you." He took the reading glasses from his nose, which were attached to a long chain around his neck, then stepped out from behind his desk and approached her.

Perplexed, she eyed him from head to toe. "You're the man from... You told me that... How can this be?"

The librarian winked at her and nodded. "You have a good memory. I was the one who gave you the Latin dictionary, you're correct. Now you know why I thought it might be useful to you."

Georg looked back and forth between the two uncertainly. "You know each other?"

"Yes." Mayla glanced briefly at him and then immediately back at the older gentleman. "We met the night before I found out about my magical powers. Still, how do you know my name? And how did you know back then that I was a witch? You did, didn't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't have given me the Latin dictionary!"

Arnold Binder nodded slowly. "Your powers had already awakened, just not to the point where your rash gestures would cause anything obvious."

She looked at him, frowning. "They had already awakened? How would you know?"

Smiling, he left her question unanswered. "Do you perhaps have some books for me that your esteemed grandmother had not yet returned?"

Georg stepped forward and laid them on the desk. "I hope these are all of them."

"How did you know Mayla would be coming?" Tom asked. "Why were you expecting her and how do you know her last name? Do you have a message for us?"

The librarian smiled mysteriously. "I do indeed have a message, but it is intended exclusively for Miss von Flammenstein. I suggest the gentlemen use the time to look around a bit. I'm sure you don't often have the opportunity to browse in a library that houses so much ancient knowledge." He nodded encouragingly at Mayla and gestured in the direction of a hallway that branched off from the reception hall. "If you would be so kind, Miss von Flammenstein, as to follow me?"

Agreeing, she glanced alternately at Georg and Tom, who looked more than displeased that Mayla was to accompany the gentleman alone. "I'm curious. Finally, a clue! I'll see you in a bit."

Intrigued, she walked behind the old man, who led her down the hall to a small room. When she entered the room and he closed the door behind them, she felt a little queasy. She had been caught in so many threatening situations over the past few weeks that she'd become less careless. Hopefully, he was as harmless as her instincts whispered he was, but she didn't want her uncertainty to show. Besides, she wasn't as defenseless as she had been weeks before. She had learned a few things she could use if he threatened her.

The librarian remained calm and collected and smiled encouragingly at her, so she told herself to ignore her misgivings.

"Take a seat." He gestured to a chair in front of a small desk, then settled in behind it. On either side were two medium columns with marble busts of a woman and a man whom Mayla didn't recognize. In between them were piled numerous maps.

"I am so glad you're finally here. I expected you much earlier. But it seems you were delayed?"

She just nodded, preferring not to reveal too much for now, and sat down on the chair, her back straight. Crossing one leg over the other, she scanned the bookcases that were off to the side as well as the globe in the corner, which somehow didn't resemble the ones she was familiar with from the human world. Did this one show the world-folds on it? Before her curiosity could distract her from the real reason for her visit, she turned her attention to the librarian.

"Do you have a message for me from my grandmother? And I'm curious how you learned who I am. There aren't many who know of my existence."

Looking at her intently, he said, "You inherited your father's eyes and hair color, and Melinda's facial expression. However, as your esteemed grandmother revealed to me, you acquired your fondness for chocolate from your mother."

Mayla tilted her head. "And you couldn't tell me that in front of my friends?"

"Ah, yes, as impatient as your grandmother."

The corners of her mouth twitched.

"Yes, I have a message from your dear grandma. She gave it to me before retiring to her hidden house to pursue certain studies in peace."

"Certain studies?" Bright-eyed, she leaned forward. "What would those be?"

"As you may know, Melinda von Flammenstein, your grandmother, has been trying for decades to find figure out how Vincent von Eisenfels was able to find the secret world-fold where she had hidden her daughter and son-in-law — and where you were born, right?"

Goodness, he didn't have to go back that far! Why did old people always have too much time on their hands even when everyone else was in a hurry? "Did she discover the traitors?"

Arnold Binder shook his head. "Not as far as I know. That was the reason why she started to pursue a new approach in recent weeks. Instead of scrutinizing members of the opposition and the police who knew about it at the time, she focused her attention on the von Eisenfels family."

Her eyes widened. "He has living relatives?" Now that the librarian mentioned it, it seemed obvious. Why had she never thought of that? Surely, it was his relatives who led the hunters and killed the witches to then rob them of their magic. But where were they? Where did they live?

Arnold Binder shrugged regretfully. "Nothing is known about his family. All records were destroyed when Vincent von Eisenfels disappeared, before he came back to wipe out the covens' founding families. At that time, he already had diligent helpers who thoroughly cleaned up behind him and themselves."

"Surely, there must be a way to find out if he had siblings or if his parents are still alive. The family is more famous in the witch world than chocolate, isn't it?"

"You're right." The librarian nodded leisurely. "They are well-known, but more than that, for centuries they have lived apart from the rest of us. A long time ago, they retreated to their ancestral home."

"Ha!" She slapped the desk with the flat of her hand. "Their headquarters! I can't believe we never thought of that."

Arnold Binder folded his hands together calmly and placed them on the desk. "As you might imagine, this ancestral seat is located in a world-fold that only the von Eisenfels family can enter."

Shoot! Naturally, that was to be expected. "Does the family have other residences?"

"Nothing is known about them."

Surely, that couldn't be true. "Are there any other leads? Any evidence of living relatives?"

"Through the centuries, there were members of the family who mingled with the rest of the witches under assumed names — to escape the family's reputation or to spy on us and stir up trouble. No one knows what happened to the majority of the family. The last one known was Vincent. He went to witch school under his real name and he was already causing plenty of trouble back then — especially in history class, as you might imagine."

"I heard that. He wouldn't accept that his family wasn't assigned their own circle and that he would be subordinate to the other head witches."

"Exactly. Like his ancestors, he was powerful — I think the powers of the von Eisenfels are quite equal to those of the other founding families. So, his objection was not entirely unjustified."

A deep crease formed between Mayla's brows. "He murdered my parents. He forfeited the right to have his own circle!"

He continued without responding to her statement, as if she hadn't said anything. "Vincent finished witch school and disappeared without a trace as soon as he graduated. He was eighteen years old then. During that period, no one saw him — at least not to the knowledge of the general public. And at that time, all the records on his family disappeared from the libraries and archives."

"I see. That's suspicious. That should have given it away that he was up to no good. So, my grandmother tried to find out something. And? Was she successful?"

The librarian shrugged. "I don't know."

"Maybe there's something in the books she checked out. It would be best if I took them with me." She needed to go back to her grandmother's house. Maybe there were notes on her research. Now that she knew what to look for, she would analyze her files from a different perspective.

"You're certainly within your rights to do so." He leaned back a bit, retrieved his wand from the inside pocket of his vest, and pointed it at a drawer of the desk. Without uttering a word, the tip of the wand glowed and a drawer opened.

"You can perform magic without speaking?"

"You should learn to do that, too. With the blood that flows through your veins, you should be able to learn it quite quickly. It's useful because your opponent won't know what spell you're using."

That was logical. She would have to practice it. Tom could do it too — hadn't he used the amulet key a few times without saying the destination? She hadn't realized it before. Georg didn't do it, but he had to know about it. Why hadn't the two taught her that?

Out of the drawer flew a rolled-up letter closed by a wax seal. She reached out and it landed gently in her hand. Her heart beat faster. "Do you know what it says?"

He shook his head and fine laugh lines appeared around his bright eyes. "It's a private message meant only for you. Your esteemed grandmother asked me to tell you to open it when you are alone."

A tingling sensation traveled through her fingers. A message from her grandmother. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she immediately blinked them away. "Thank you."

"If you like, I'll leave you alone for a moment. Then you can break the seal right away."

"No, I'll open it later on my own." Not in a place she'd never been before, being spied on by who knows who. It wasn't that she distrusted the nice librarian, but she felt the need to open the letter in a place where she felt unobserved.

"Of course, you are free to make that decision, but keep your grandmother's request in mind: the letter is meant only for you."

She carefully stowed the scroll in her purse and rose from the chair. "Thank you. Now, could you perhaps show me my grandmother's register so I know which books she last checked out?"

He stood up as well and bowed gallantly in her direction. "Of course, Miss von Flammenstein." He plodded to the door and held it open for her. They went down the hallway back towards the large lobby where Tom and Georg were waiting for them at the reception desk. Tom merely glanced at Mayla to make sure she was fine, but Georg immediately rushed up to her.

"Everything okay? Did you find out anything?"

She gave the librarian a cursory glance. "Apparently my grandmother retreated to her secret house to do research."

Tom crossed his long arms in front of his chest. "Research? About what?"

"She was trying to find out more about the von Eisenfels family. If we take the last books she borrowed from this library and go through them ourselves, we might discover something that will help. It's possible she stumbled across something that led to her undoing."

Tom had already stepped up to the large reception desk where the librarian was standing, conjuring a thick register that was flipping the pages by itself. A moment later, it stopped and showed a list of all the books Melinda had taken home over the past few months. "Can we look at them all?" he asked the librarian.

"That's more than a hundred books!"

"The ones from the last four weeks, then."

Arnold Binder nodded and with a wave of his wand, more than twenty books flew toward the reception desk from the neighboring rooms. Mayla quickly stepped aside to avoid being hit in the head by the tomes. Georg and Tom simply remained still in the middle of the lobby, as if the books would go around them. Sure enough, the books swerved up and over them, not hitting either of the men's thick skulls, and neatly stacked themselves on the antique desk to form a tall tower. "Are you sure you want to borrow all of them?"

"That is a lot..." Mayla looked at the men.

"We'll have to make a selection," Georg decided, while Tom studied the book titles.

"A lot of them are about medicinal herbs," he murmured. "We can safely leave the plant books here. We'll just take the history books — all of them."

Mayla and Georg agreed. They distributed the twelve books among themselves and said goodbye to the librarian.

"Take care of yourself, Miss von Flammenstein. We have high hopes for you."

Great, no pressure!

A few minutes later, they stepped out of the library. Tom and Georg each had four books under their arms and Mayla was carrying the remaining four, which Georg immediately took from her.

"We need to find a place," she mused aloud, "that we can retreat to without being disturbed, somewhere with tables and chairs at our disposal." And hopefully the men would be so distracted poring over the books that Mayla could sneak away to study the message. Perhaps it would provide her with a clue. She wanted to read the note as soon as possible.

Georg nodded while Tom was busy scanning the area to see if anyone was listening or watching. There were a lot of people out and about. Some of them were marching up the steps to the library while others were strolling along the main street. Normally, Mayla would have liked to have gone shopping and gotten to know the city better. But they couldn't attract attention to themselves. Besides, her grandma's letter was burning a hole in her pocket, whispering incessantly, "Read me! Read me! Read me!"

Further down, there was a commotion as a horde of young men was crowding onto the square with the statues.

"Quick, we have to get out of here!" murmured Tom, who had recognized the hunters right away. Mayla felt her heart sink and she immediately clutched her amulet key. Not caring about being observed, they jumped directly from Ulmen City to the high cliffs of the Rhineland.

Mayla staggered a little upon landing but regained control before Georg could rush over and put an arm around her. "We need tables and chairs. Or at least a few comfortable chairs we can sit in while we peruse the books."

Tom nodded. "We should also check Melinda's records again to see if she left any notes on her research. At least now we know what to look for."

With the stack of books resting against his chest, Georg ran a hand through his short beard. "Somewhere to hide the books would be good. Naturally, we could keep them at my house, but I assume you don't want to jump into the world-fold with the police department..."

Tom looked past Georg at Mayla. His gaze was unusually intense. "We can go to my place."

Had he really just suggested that? The one who wouldn't divulge where he slept when he wasn't with them? The one who kept his origins a secret and wouldn't let anyone get close to him was now inviting a policeman and a witch to his house?

Mayla glanced briefly at Georg and then back at Tom. She couldn't help smiling. "I'm game. Better than the fold where I'm known to so many people."

What did his home look like? A small room in a big anonymous apartment building? She couldn't quite picture that, somehow. Maybe it was an abandoned cottage in the woods?

Georg narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Where would that be?"

"It's a little cabin in the mountains. We won't be disturbed there because no one comes to that world-fold. It's... too remote."

A cabin in the mountains... how fitting.

"All right, but..."

"No buts, Georg!" Mayla looked at him sternly. "Swear that you will never tell anyone — not a soul, not a spirit animal, or any other living being — where Tom's home is located!"

He hesitated briefly and then exaggeratedly raised his hand in an oath while still eyeing Tom suspiciously. "I promise. Though I'm surprised you're suddenly so trusting. So, where are you taking us?"

Tom took out his amulet key. "I will say the spell silently and you will jump with me. That's my condition."

That was to be expected. Still, the fact that he didn't truly trust them stung Mayla's heart. Was it only Georg? Would he have said the spell out loud if it had only been the two of them?

Georg scrutinized him with his cop eyes and reached out to Mayla. "Are you okay with this?"

She nodded and took both Tom and Georg by the hand. A tingle ran through her entire body when she touched Tom, and her heart beat faster. He held on tightly as they jumped, pressing her hand even more firmly when they were airborne, and didn't let go when they landed in front of a quaint log cabin in the middle of nowhere.

"Pretty!" Mayla said, and she meant it. It wasn't the dream home she'd imagined for herself — she loved the big city and its vibrant life, but it would certainly have been nice for a weekend. She raised her eyes optimistically and smiled encouragingly at Tom, who immediately released her hand. She was used to it, but it still stung a little. Only now did she notice that Georg was still holding her left hand. Resolutely, she freed her hand and looked around.

The alpine hut was far up on the mountain slope, which must have been several thousand meters high. She searched instinctively for a herd of sheep or goats, but neither man nor beast could be seen and no ringing of cowbells was to be heard. Across from them, another peak stretched up into the air, towering before them like a wall.

The ground was covered with bright green grass with violets peeking out, and the midday sun was beating down on them from the bright blue sky above. Single white clouds passed over it, casting shadows on the mountain meadow.

"This is perfect." Mayla beamed. What an idyllic setting. Hopefully the men would keep it together and not start pushing each other's buttons again.

"Let's put the books in the house," Tom suggested. "Then we'll jump back to Melinda's hideout."

Georg raised his brows. "You want to leave the books here — somewhere only you know how to get back to?"

"You have my word. I will bring you back here as soon as we've searched Melinda's house."

"The word of an outcast..."

"Do you have an alternative site for us to store the books?" Unfazed, Tom looked at Georg, who shook his head reluctantly.

With no further comments, Tom carried the books into the small house and returned a few moments later. He inhaled deeply. He obviously felt comfortable at these altitudes because his gaze became clearer, his brow more relaxed, and the harried expression on his face softened a little. Wonderful. If this didn't slowly melt the ice between them, then she didn't know what would!

"Let's go," she cried euphorically, holding out her hands to the men.

"Wait a minute!" Georg rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. "We'll jump to the cliffs on the Rhine first. I have to let the station know I'm returning to Melinda's house so we don't get a surprise visit."

"Good idea." Mayla jumped for joy inwardly. That was her chance to secretly read her grandma's letter.

"All right." Tom held out his hand to Mayla and clasped his amulet key. She quickly grabbed Georg's hand before the ground disappeared from under her feet.

Chapter Six

Mayla and Tom waited on the cliffs overlooking the Rhine Valley. Georg had requested a twenty-minute head start so he could have enough time to jump back to them in case police officers were at Melinda's hiding place.

After he had left, Mayla retreated into the depths of the mountain forest, using the excuse that she needed to use the little witches' room. After walking for a few minutes, she could no longer see Tom or the cliffs. She spotted a fallen log amid forget-me-nots and small nettles. There was a butterfly perched on top of it, stretching its lemon-yellow wings toward the only ray of sunlight coming through the tall treetops. She crept up to the trunk, smiling, and the butterfly hurriedly flew away.

Using her palm, she cleaned the dirt off the bark before sitting down and took the message from her handbag. The photograph of her and her parents that she had discovered at Melinda's house fell out. Smiling wistfully, she picked it up and gazed at her mother's overjoyed face and her father's proud expression. What would it have been like to grow up with them as a witch? Her life would certainly have progressed quite differently...

Sighing, she put the photo back and turned her attention to the scroll. She stared at it for a moment, examining the flame-shaped seal in red wax. What did Melinda have to tell her? What was the message she had left exclusively for her? Her heart was beating so hard it almost burst. Only one thing could help. Chocolate! Fortunately, Tom had provided supplies. "Vola!" A chocolate flew out of the package and landed in her mouth. In seventh heaven, she closed her eyes as the vanilla truffle melted on her tongue and she felt her heartbeat slow a little.

With trembling hands, she broke the seal. As she unrolled the message, her fingernails scraped the paper. Her eyes blurred when she saw her grandmother's curved handwriting and read the first line:

My beloved Mayla.

A tear she hadn't even noticed dripped from her chin. She wiped her cheek and eyes, bent over the letter, and started anew.

My beloved Mayla,

If you are reading these lines, then my worst fears have come true. Unfortunately, I cannot be there to teach you or accompany you on the path that will lead you back to the witch world and to the head of the Fire Circle.

It certainly won't be easy for you, since the demands on our family have always been extremely high. Then again, power and responsibility go hand in hand. Therefore, I have to stress again how important it is that you take your magical training seriously. Artus and Angelika are friends of mine. I hope they were able to teach you the initial witchcraft spells. Times are too serious for you to hole up with them until things calm down again. However, as I know you (for I must admit, I've been watching you all your life), the last thing you'd do would be to cling to Angelika's skirts.

In the past years, I have invested strength and time to track down those who betrayed your parents to Vincent von Eisenfels. I've tried to reconstruct the von Eisenfels family tree, but it is truly not easy to learn anything about that family.

Among the opposition at Donnersberg Castle there are traitors. Some are harmless, though there are others who must absolutely be taken seriously. Consider every word you speak during the evening group assembly.

Your task is not to continue my research. The police and the opposition can do that. I have a personal favor to ask of you. You must find the heir of the Air Circle! Together, you are stronger and together you can succeed in securing the world-fold where I have held Vincent captive for over thirty years. The security of the fold has top priority. He must not escape!

However, promise me one thing: Don't go to his prison without assistance. You alone will not succeed in securing it. It is dangerous there. The old traitor may have long since revealed the location of the fold, so sooner or later, it will be swarming with hunters itching to see their master freed. It's not worth the risk.

I don't know where the heir to the last head witch of the Air Circle, Joana Montgomery, is hiding, but he survived the attack by Vincent at the time. He's a little older than you and lives under an assumed name. Where exactly, I have not yet discovered. Unfortunately, the only clue I have for you is the Aguilera family. They are Spanish witches who gave refuge to the last descendant of the Montgomery family at that time.

If you want to go to them, you'll have to use an amulet key. I hope you have one in your possession and have mastered the necessary magic. They live in the north of Spain. You can get there with the spell, 'Perduce me ad familiam Aguileram in Pyrenaeo.'

Don't tell anyone about your task and by all means, visit the Aguilera family alone. Regardless of who you've placed your trust in by now, you must carry out this task by yourself. If the wrong people find out who the last descendant is and where he is, he will be in the same danger as you, my dear.

The magical stones of the circles reveal that there must still be a survivor of the Montgomery family. But since any research on this matter has led nowhere, most people have stopped searching for him — yes, there are even witches and wizards who doubt the significance of the stones. The less attention you call to him, the better it'll be for all of us.

However, once you've found him, once you know who he is, you must make him take his rightful place. He is no longer a child and must face his responsibilities. Side by side, you are strong enough to take on most powers. Convince him to come out of the shadows and step into the public eye with you. The two of you will form a strong unit that many will follow if battles ensue with the hunters or even Vincent himself.

As hard as it may be for you, please burn this letter. The clue to the whereabouts of the Montgomery heir should remain between us.

Take good care of yourself, my dear. I pray we will meet again soon. I love you from the bottom of my heart — never forget that.

Your grandma

A crow cried out, startling Mayla. She searched the pines and spotted the black bird perched on a branch above her. She jumped up quickly and pressed the lines her grandmother had written to her chest. Had the bird read the text? She would have loved to reread the letter, but the crow reminded her of how serious the situation was.

Wistfully, she blew on the sheet of paper and watched a flame flicker to life at one corner, then continue to spread. The first charred scraps fell to the ground and Mayla dropped the remains of the burning paper. As her grandmother's words were consumed by the flames, which left only a few black and white fragments, she blew out the embers. Lord knows she didn't want to start a forest fire. For safety's sake, she stepped on the remaining ash and when she was satisfied no fire could break out, she heaved a sigh of relief.

Shoot. She should have read the letter at least one more time before destroying it for good. The bird above her cawed, bringing her back to the present. Before the crow could send her any images or feelings, she trudged hastily through the nettles away from the black bird and toward Tom. Her grandmother's lines haunted her. She needed to find the heir of the Air Circle. He was a little older than her. How was she supposed to go about searching for him without one of the men breathing down her neck?

She had to make sure to ask Tom about the magical stones, where they were located, and how they indicated the status of the founding families' magic. Perhaps they'd provide an additional clue to the last Montgomery.

Tom was leaning against the trunk of a pine tree with his arms folded across his chest. This was Tom's typical stance.

"I'm back," she called out to him. He merely nodded, looked up briefly, and studied her more closely. Did he suspect she was keeping a secret from him? Instantly, her cheeks flushed and her head felt warm, but before she could blurt out anything, she broached an innocuous subject.

"Where's Kitty? She's your spirit animal, isn't she? Why isn't she with you?"

"She's keeping her eyes and ears open for me. Besides, she's busy elsewhere right now."

What was that supposed to mean? Was she out on a special assignment?

"What's the deal with spirit animals anyway? Do you have to take the one that approaches you? I mean do you have any say in it?" She peered at him furtively.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind having a great cat like yours. Is there somewhere I can... make a request?"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "You like her a lot." It wasn't a question but a simple statement, which was why she merely nodded.

He pushed off casually from the tree trunk and looked around to make sure they were alone before taking two steps toward her. "A spirit animal is as loyal as any other animal. It would never abandon the soul that called for it as a baby. Nor would an animal that once chose to be by your side ever walk away from you. It is an honor, Mayla, no matter what animal comes to you."

The corners of her mouth drooped sheepishly. She didn't want to be ungrateful. He was right, of course. Surely she and whatever animal came to her would share a wonderful bond — though she couldn't quite imagine this with the crow in the woods.

Tom raised his hand as if to place it on her arm, but then withdrew it. "Don't be sad. Do you want me to tell you a secret?"

"Did Kitty tell you she wants to be the spirit animal for the both of us?"

He laughed softly. "No, but your spirit animal is on its way to you. It's near you and cares about you."

Really? Had he noticed that this crow would appear wherever Mayla was? Was there no escape? A crow as a spirit animal for her, of all people — who was in charge of this darned assignment? She had to quickly change the topic of conversation before Tom encouraged her to run back to the black bird. What could she talk to him about that would take his mind off the matter? Wait a minute. She wanted to ask him about the stones. "What is it about these stones that somehow show the status of the founding families' magic?"

Tom's gaze darkened. "You mean the stones of the Four Circles?"

"Yes, exactly. Von Donnersberg told me the Air Circle's stone is still glowing because there is a survivor. When my grandmother disappeared, Tauber took the Fire Circle stone to safety. Why was it in danger? What do they even look like?"

"There are many legends surrounding these stones. It is said that before the Four Circles were formed, it was a single magical stone. Then it was broken into four pieces to form the circles so the power would be divided."

"Does that mean they have some kind of power?"

"They are the symbol of the founding families' powers, which is why Melinda, as the head witch of the Fire Coven, was in possession of your stone. She showed it to me once. It's maybe the size of a walnut and glows red like fire."

"That small? Why did Tauber take it to safety? Does it have any powers?"

"You'll have to speak to Melinda about that."

"Something must be known about these stones that's common knowledge."

Tom shrugged. "Just legends. And I don't care much for old tales..."

Flabbergasted, Mayla shook her head. What could be more exciting than old legends? "You didn't learn anything about the stones in school?"

"Only that they exist and that each circle has its own. The knowledge is reserved for the founding families."

"I see. So where did Tauber take it? If I understand correctly, I'm supposed to take possession of it for as long as my grandmother is absent."

"You'll have to ask Artus. I think he and Angelika hid it somewhere in the castle and didn't tell anyone about it."

Artus von Donnersberg. Of course. He was obviously the one who would have taken charge of the stone. The next time she was at the castle, she would ask him about it. Perhaps it made sense to leave the stone with him as long as she roamed the land and its folds like a woman on a mission.

Before she could pursue the subject further, Tom pulled a gold pocket watch from his leather jacket, glanced at it, and put it back. "Time's up. We have to go."

"That's a nice watch. Where did you get it?"

"From my father..." His expression darkened as if he had spoken about something he never intended to reveal, and he gripped his amulet key a little tighter than usual. "Are you ready?"

"More than ready." It wasn't that she was eager to search her grandma's papers again. No — above all, she wanted to get away from that crow as soon as possible. Spirit animal or not, the black bird gave her the creeps.

"Wait, before you jump, can I try to jump with you?" The words came out before she'd thought them through. Her cheeks grew hot. Hopefully, he didn't think she was trying to get closer to him by playing a silly game! "I need to practice! Might be important for what lies ahead. I just want to try it to see if I can do it."

Tom took another step toward her so they were three feet apart and held out his hand to her. The gesture was so innocent, yet it went right to her heart, making it beat faster with excitement. Tentatively, she placed her hand in his and an explosion of emotions set off in her stomach, her chest, everywhere. She didn't dare lift her gaze or she would forget everything around her. She carefully took out the amulet key from under her blouse and concentrated on Melinda's home. Following a sudden inspiration, she only thought the spell instead of saying it aloud: 'Perduce nos in latibulum Melindae!'

The blue of the sky and the green of the forest swirled together and the ground disappeared under her feet. Tom pulled her closer to him and with a slow, endlessly long movement, he wrapped his arm around her. His touch sent goosebumps down her spine and she raised her eyes momentarily. He leaned down to her, his face very close. She didn't even feel her feet hit solid ground. Was he going to kiss her? Her heart beat faster and faster.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made them both jump. "Finally, you made it!" Georg had been waiting by the window with the long curtains before he'd started to move noisily toward them. His firm footsteps thudded on the wooden floor and with every thump his shoes made, Tom increased his distance from her. Georg pointed impatiently at the desk. "Can we finally get started?"

Mayla looked Tom in the eye quizzically. His gaze was frank and she had difficulty interpreting it. Perhaps longing and... pain? Why was he so sad and so... lost? She wanted to save him! She needed to be there for him!

Unexpectedly, he let go of her hand and turned toward the stairs. "I'm going to look around up on the second floor. You two can stay down here."

Bam! Why was he leaving her like that now? Just walking away? They had been as close as they'd ever been. The wall had been crumbling, his gaze direct and open. Why did he always pull away from her as soon as they got close?

She took a deep breath and clenched her hands so she wouldn't inadvertently send a malediction after him. Georg was already beside her and put his hand on her back.

"Come on, we can search down here." He followed her gaze to the steps Tom had just taken to then vanish upstairs. "Just leave him. We don't need him. I don't understand what you even see in him! The two of us alone can find your grandma just as easily. You need to have more faith in yourself. Just because he saved your life a few times doesn't mean you owe him anything."

She blinked several times, as if doing so would chase away the oppressive feeling inside her. With a practiced gesture, she checked that her hair was still in place, brushed a loose strand out of her face, and secured it with the black clip she used to pin her hair to the back of her head. Ignoring Georg's comment, she looked around. "Have you found anything yet?"

"Yes. On the desk, there are some notes about healing potions and herbal brews. I was about to tackle the bookshelf. Where would you like to search?" Quite the gentleman. Georg was so different from Tom. He smiled at her and chatted with her whenever he had the chance.

Out of habit, she smiled back. "I'll look in the kitchen again. I was lucky once, maybe I will be again." She walked to the cozy room and was startled to see a bird sitting on the windowsill. It wasn't a crow, thankfully, but an owl. Its plumage was a blotchy dark brown and beige and there were glowing yellow eyes looking out from its bright, almost white face. It was slightly larger than the coffee pot sitting on the shelf next to the window. Keeping its yellow eyes fixed on Mayla, it remained perched quietly in front of the window, as if waiting for her.

Mayla faltered. Was this the animal Tom had been talking about? The one that was already following her? Her spirit animal? It wasn't exactly an animal to cuddle with either, but it was certainly better than the crow. The owl tilted its head without blinking and looked at her. Mayla was expecting to be flooded with images and feelings, but nothing happened. She felt nothing, though the bird kept looking at her intently. Suddenly, the owl gave a loud cry and flapped its wings vigorously, its wingspan covering the entire window. Mayla flinched and backed out of the kitchen.

"Mayla?" She heard firm footsteps. Georg was there immediately. "What's wrong?"

"There's… an... an owl."

"Did it send you images? Is it your spirit animal?"

She shook her head and flinched again as the owl gave a bloodcurdling hoot. "What's wrong with it? Why is it screeching like that?"

"I don't know. It's certainly not my owl. Maybe it's Tom's spirit animal."

"No, he has a cat. Something is wrong!"

Again, the owl shrieked, louder, more piercing this time, causing the fine hairs on the back of Mayla's neck to stand up. She heard loud thumps and footsteps running down the stairs.

"Mayla?" Tom rushed around the corner. "Quick, let's get out of here!"

"Why? What is it?"

"We have to leave!" She and Tom were still a few steps apart.

"Too late for that." Three policemen came out from behind the long curtains in the living room. One of them was the odious von Wickert, with whom Mayla was already acquainted. His narrow face looked even grayer than last time and deep wrinkles trailed down the sides of his mouth. He and the other two had their wands raised, the tips aimed at Tom's chest. "Got you, at last, you rat!"

Georg immediately positioned himself in front of Mayla. "What are you doing? How long have you been here?"

The policemen didn't bother answering but muttered something that sounded like some kind of attack. A greenish flash immediately shot toward Tom, who leaped agilely to the side.

Horrified, Mayla looked back and forth between the officers, Georg, and Tom. She had to do something. "Tutare," she screamed, raising her hands. With that, a shimmering blue shield formed around her, but it did not reach Tom or Georg. She tried mentally to expand it, but her heart was beating so fast, it was hard to focus on the task.

"Why doesn't she need a wand?" one of the officers shouted. However, von Wickert was already muttering something and hurled another malediction at Tom, who pulled his wand out from his inside pocket. He wasn't fast enough. The curse hit him in the stomach and he collapsed helplessly. Mayla dissolved her shield and ran to Tom, who was lying on the floor. She knelt beside him. "Tom? Are you all right?"

"Who's that?" one of the cops yelled. "The confused witch you told me about or another outcast?"

Von Wickert's wrinkled face twisted into a spiteful grin. "She's an outcast — she doesn't wear a signet ring and she's in cahoots with that scum."

"No!" Georg took a step forward. "She isn't. You don't know what you're talking about."

Von Wickert peered down at Mayla with beady little eyes. "She's with the criminal and isn't a member of a coven — that's all that matters to me."

"Stop, you mustn't hurt her! I am your chief inspector!"

Despite his words, another malediction shot out from von Wickert's wand, but Georg had drawn his as well. He shouted, "Tutare," and a beam of blue light emerged from the tip and rose up like a wall in front of Mayla and Tom for the curse to bounce off of. The protective shield disappeared and Georg raised his hands placatingly. His colleagues looked at him uncertainly, but von Wickert was already muttering the next spell.

Stunned, Mayla looked back and forth between Georg and the policemen. Why were they ignoring his orders? Desperate, she thought, "Dirumpe!" and the window pane shattered, sending the policemen to the ground under a shower of broken glass.

Tom seized the moment. Although he was gasping and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, he grabbed her hand and pulled the amulet key out from under his shirt with the other. In the next instant, they were torn from the wooden floorboards and the surroundings became a blur.

Chapter Seven

Mayla and Tom landed in front of his cabin in the mountains. The Perduce spell had worn him out. Exhausted, he fell limply to the ground, landing in the tall grass that swayed back and forth blithely in the balmy breeze as if nothing bad could happen in this idyllic place.

"Tom! Tom!" Mayla slapped his face. His eyelids fluttered and he moved his head back and forth but did not reply.

"Tom, darn it! What am I supposed to do now?"

"Book," he forced out. "Curse..."

"What do you mean? Book? Curse? Do you have a book on curses in your cabin?"

"You..." Trying to straighten up, he moaned loudly but collapsed with a groan. He put his hands to his chest as he lay powerlessly in the grass.

Panicking, her heart pounded against her ribcage, but she didn't feel it. "Tom, I have no idea what to do to help you. I need you to tell me where we are so I can get help."

"No... too... dangerous..." He grimaced and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he turned increasingly pale. How bad was his pain? Was the curse life-threatening?

"Tell me how to get back here. Then I can get help."

He forced his eyes open and looked directly at her. She could see his inner turmoil. Her heart sank at the sight and she desperately grasped his hands.

"Trust me, Tom. Please, trust me."

"Perdu..." His breathing was ragged.

Her eyes were welling up. Never had she felt this helpless! She wiped away her tears firmly. "Perduce me ad...? And the rest? What comes next?"

Tom fainted. She tapped his cheek and he blinked.

"Where are we?"

"Perduce me ad... Pyrenaeum deser... desertum." His head flopped backward and he closed his eyes. For the love of God, she hoped she' make it back in time!

She didn't waste another second. "Hang in there, Tom, I'll be right back." She grabbed the amulet key and murmured, "Perduce me ad scopulos Rheni!" The blades of grass beneath her feet disappeared and a short time later she was standing on the high cliffs overlooking the Rhine. She turned in a circle, searching.

"Georg? Georg? Where are you, darn it?" She darted into the forest, running from pine to pine before ending up back at the cliff. "Georg? I need you!" Obviously, he wasn't around. Why wasn't he there? This was their meeting place. The place where they were supposed meet in case a situation like the one they were in arose: a doggone emergency!

She screamed for him at the top of her lungs, but he didn't appear. Shoot. Now what was she supposed to do? Who could she trust? Who would help and not turn in Tom?

Think, think!

One name came to mind: Angelika von Donnersberg. She was her grandmother's old friend. She must have known how to counter curses and spells. What alternative did she have? Darn it, she did not know enough witches! Maybe old Bertha, the innkeeper? Though her grandmother had never mentioned her or written anything about her. She was wise and old, and surely she could help Tom. But Angelika was a member of the opposition.

There was no time to waste. She had to trust someone. She grabbed the amulet key and thought, "Perduce me in arcem." Fortunately, Georg had loaded her up with all those Latin terms. Georg. Where was he?

A moment later, she landed in the stone entrance hall of Donnersberg Castle. She ran up the stairs to Angelika's parlor. The lady of the castle met her when she was still making her way up, as if she'd heard her silent cries for help.

"Mayla, what's going on?"

She was out of breath and holding her aching side. "Tom! He's hurt. I'm unable to help him."

A deep frown line formed between Angelika's graying brows. "Why didn't you bring him?"

"Shoot. That didn't occur to me. Come, quickly, I don't know how much longer he's going to live."

"I need my herbs first. What happened?" She was already hurrying down the small staircase in the back to the kitchen. Mayla rushed after her. Her footsteps echoed off the deserted walls, the clacking on the stones serving as evidence that everything happening wasn't just a terrible nightmare.

"The police caught us by surprise."

"I meant what curse was spoken."

"How should I know? I didn't hear it!"

"Where does he have pain?"

"His stomach. He was also grabbing his chest. I think he's having a hard time breathing. He's sweating and his complexion is deathly pale."

The lady of the castle hurried into the kitchen, where nobody was cooking or washing dishes — not a soul around. Why was it empty? Angelika grabbed a basket and turned to Mayla, who came to a halt beside her, panting.

"Where do we have to go?"

"The place is secret. Take my hand!" She quickly held out her left hand and grasped the amulet key with the other.

"Mayla, there's no time for this now."

"I promised. Quickly now!"

With a stern expression, Angelika grabbed her hand while holding the basket in the other. Mayla curled her fingers around the amulet and concentrated. "Perduce nos ad Pyrenaeum desertum!" Hopefully she had understood Tom correctly. She squinted and focused on the abandoned hut in the mountains. The stony ground disappeared beneath their feet, they whirled through the air, and landed in the lush green meadow where Tom lay as if dead. Not even his little finger twitched. Was he still breathing?

Her pulse racing, Mayla rushed to him and grabbed his shoulders. "Tom, I'm back. Can you hear me? Tom! Help is here." Her purse fell off her shoulder and she flung it into the grass. She put her hand on his forehead and immediately recoiled, startled. "He's burning up. What do witches take for a fever?"

"Move aside, Mayla!" Angelika pushed her away from him forcefully so she could feel and look at his face, neck, and stomach. "Darn, a Pressa curse! Are you certain those were police officers who attacked you?"

"Yes, darn it. Pressa? What the heck does that mean?"

Angelika pushed his shirt up even further, revealing red marks on his sweaty chest. "He's being crushed."

"Crushed?"

"Go boil some water. Hurry up, every second counts." Angelika rummaged through her basket. Mayla remained frozen, staring at Tom, and she snapped at her impatiently, "Quick, what are you waiting for?"

Mayla ran into the cabin, which was furnished just as sparsely as she had imagined. A fireplace, a rocking chair, a table, two chairs, a closet, a bed, and a small box. That was all. Where the heck was the kitchen? How was she going to boil water in there? There was no kettle and no electricity.

She hurried to the closet and opened it. On the lowest shelf, she discovered an iron pot with strange scorch marks on the bottom. She grabbed it and rushed out onto the lawn to Angelika. "There is no kitchen."

"Mayla, you're a witch."

"What's that supposed to mean? You want me to magically whip up a kitchen? How the heck is that supposed to work?"

"Create a fire."

"Of course." Her eyes darted over the area until she spotted a stack of firewood next to the house. She ran to get the logs but realized it would take too long. So, she raised her hands and concentrated on the wood. She imagined the logs piled on top of each other for a small fire and called out, "Commove!" Though they didn't come floating over to her, they piled up in a small heap right next to the cabin.

"You need the Vola spell, Mayla. You need to fly the firewood over here."

Right. Raising her hands, she shouted, "Vola!" The pile sprang into motion. Four logs whizzed over the meadow and fell in a mess on top of each other. Mayla hurried over, squatted in front of the wood, propped her hands on her knees, and imagined a crackling fire. Then, she blew gently on the logs, which immediately began to crackle and smoke. A flame flickered to life on the first log and spread.

"Now, put water in the pot. I have to boil a brew."

"Where am I supposed to get water now, for heaven's sake? I'm not a water witch. I was told we can't conjure food and drink, correct? So, what spell do I use?"

"You don't need a spell, you need a well. Look behind the house."

She grabbed the pot and hurried past the woodpile and around the hut. Once she emerged on the other side, she discovered a brick well with a wooden roof and a crank handle with a bucket hanging from it. She immediately began to turn the crank. Sweat formed on her palms and temples. There must have been a spell for this too, but for the life of her, she couldn't think of it. Before she wasted any more precious time, she did it the old-fashioned, non-magical way.

When the overflowing bucket finally started to appear over the edge of the well, she grabbed it, poured the water into the pot, and hurried back with it. She set it on the fire and Angelika immediately crumbled the first herbs into it.

"These are dandelion, yarrow, and wild garlic. You have to add them in equal amounts."

Mayla watched half-heartedly and glanced anxiously at Tom. Strands of hair were sticking to his forehead. He looked so... needy.

"Focus, Mayla, and watch."

She inhaled deeply, trying to keep her fear under control, and focused her attention on Angelika's herbal magic. "Then what?"

"Now we wait for the water to boil." She blew on the fire, which grew hotter and hotter, and the brew began to simmer.

"Why couldn't I have just enchanted the water to boil in the pot? That would have been much faster."

"A strong potion requires brewing over a real fire. It's not only about the temperature of the water, it's about the interaction of all the elements. Understand?"

Although she wasn't certain what the old woman meant, she nodded. Perhaps she was referring to the Four Circles.

"Then, take a metal spoon — make sure to remember that. It cannot be made of wood or any other material. Also, stir clockwise and say, 'Da aera, aperi pulmonem, dona spiritum!'"

"What does it mean?"

"Roughly translated it means, 'Give air, open lungs, endow breath.' The spell is also in Melinda's herbal book that you bought."

"Oh! I'm sure Tom was referring to it earlier. I always carry those books with me." She reached for her purse and pulled out the book with a photo of the author emblazoned on its cover. A fleeting smile flitted across her face as she peered into her grandma's eyes before opening the book and skimming the table of contents.

"Pressa curse — there it is." She flipped to page thirty-four.

Add equal parts yarrow, wild garlic, and dandelion to water and bring to a boil over an open fire. Stir clockwise with a metal spoon and say the following phrase: 'Da aera, aperi pulmonem, dona spiritum!' Simmer for ten minutes and then give it to the cursed one. Half a cup every hour until the fever breaks and they sleep peacefully. The following three days, a cup a day until the symptoms fully subside.

Mayla looked up. "Wonderful, I don't have to write anything down."

"You should still memorize the herbal spell. In an emergency, every minute counts."

She had just witnessed that herself. After closing the book, she bent over Tom. He still wasn't conscious. "How do you get someone to drink when they aren't awake?"

"You'll see in a minute. Vola!" Mayla glanced at the door and saw a cup flying toward them. "Look, the brew is turning yellow. That lets you know the herbs have given up their powers to the water."

"That wasn't mentioned in my grandma's herbal book."

"Yes it was, in the introduction." She dipped the cup into the pot so that the vessel was half full and squatted behind Tom. Then, she lifted his head and rested it on her thighs, which were covered by her silk dress. She slapped his face several times until his eyelids twitched restlessly. "Tom, you need to drink this now." She placed the cup against his lips. As the hot liquid touched his mouth, he flinched and then coughed as the first drops trickled down his throat. Regardless, he continued to drink until the cup was empty. Angelika stroked his sweaty hair caringly and then laid his head back on the grass.

Mayla's heart ached as she watched Tom's expression, which was contorted with pain. "How long will it take for him to recover?"

"A few days. If you tell me what this place is called, I can return to check on him periodically."

Mayla shook her head resolutely. "No, I can handle it." She concentrated, raised her hands, and thought, "Vola!" Tom's body lifted off the meadow and flew somewhat unsteadily into the hut. She concentrated even harder until he was flying more smoothly and then landed gently on his bed. She exhaled loudly. That seemed even more exhausting than if she had carried him on her shoulders.

Angelika nodded appreciatively. "I see your powers have grown tremendously. How many weeks ago did they awaken? Five?"

"About, yes."

The castle mistress smiled wistfully. "Melinda would be happy to see that." She put her hand on Mayla's arm. "Please, she wouldn't want you to go through this alone. As soon as Tom is better and you can leave him alone for two hours, join us for dinner. Promise?"

"I'd love to, but now you have to go. Thanks for your help."

Angelika pulled an amulet key from under her dress. "You can always come to me if you need help. Take care of yourself. 'Perduce me in arcem!'" As soon as the words were spoken, the old witch disappeared, leaving them alone.

Mayla took a deep breath and looked around the deserted highland. She would manage.

Chapter Eight

Every sixty minutes, she poured Tom half a cup of the herbal decoction. With each hour, waking him became easier and he was drinking more greedily. But as soon as the drinking vessel was empty, he would sink back into the pillows and succumb to deep sleep.

She continued sitting by his bedside watching him anxiously until her instincts whispered to her that he would survive. In the afternoon, the fever finally dropped and he stopped sweating. In the late evening, after the sun had long since set and Mayla had lit up a small candle using her breath, a little color appeared in his cheeks.

Relieved, she rose from the bed and stretched. She was wobbly on her feet. No wonder — she had completely forgotten to eat and drink. When was the last time that happened to her? Had it ever happened before? She pulled out a truffle and would have devoured the whole box right away, but she had to make them last. Who knew when she would get her hands on chocolates again? She couldn't make it through another dry spell like the past few weeks.

She was parched and walked to the well, where she drank and splashed a ladle full of fresh water onto her face. She blinked wearily at the horizon and retreated into the hut. Was there anything to eat there? She walked to the cupboard. Besides a set of cutlery and dishes, a small cooking pot, two cups, and a tin of coffee, she noticed two tall, clay pots. One contained oatmeal and the other sugar. She spotted a spoon and stuffed a generously sweetened portion of cereal into her mouth. It took forever to chew the tiny amount enough to swallow it. She went back to the well for more water, drank until she felt refreshed, and went back into the hut.

She looked around. Where could she sleep? Although Tom's bed was wide, simply lying down next to him was out of the question. Who knew what he might think if he were to wake up? So that night she'd probably have to fix up a makeshift bed using two chairs. That was better than the bare wooden floor.

She made certain Tom was sleeping soundly, that his forehead wasn't hot again, and that he had enough covers. After giving him another half a cup of herbal brew to drink, she grabbed her crocheted blanket and a pillow from his bed, then made herself as comfortable as she could on the chairs.

Tom would survive. He was strong and the potion was already taking effect. According to her grandmother's book, from now on it was enough to administer the potion three times a day. That would allow her to sleep soundly for a few hours. Or at least rest — it wasn't as if she'd get any sleep on these spartan frames. Her back was already aching. Too bad there wasn't a second bed.

Wait a minute. She was a witch! There were transformation spells. Maybe she could turn one of the wooden chairs into a bed. It was worth a try! She jumped up and reached for her purse, which contained the Witchcraft 101 book her grandmother had written. She wanted to read again how exactly it worked — after all, in the forest, the men had usually conjured beds and she had merely made the pillows and mattresses softer and fluffier. Her finger made its way down the table of contents until she found the keyword 'transformation,' turned to page one hundred seventy-five, and began to read.

Transformation Spell

As with the other spells, the Converte spell requires utmost concentration. You must pay attention to everything and think of every detail that applies to the new item so that it will be functional. For starters, it is easier to convert items that are made of the same material before and after the transformation. For example, it works better to transform a spoon into a fork rather than a spoon into a glass.

Wonderful. Her intention was doable — a wooden chair would become a wooden bed. Perfect.

Picture what you want to conjure while pointing your wand at the object you want to transform. Consider everything, not merely its external form. Then shout, "Converte!"

That didn't sound too difficult. She tilted her head left, right, and left again, and raised her hands. She imagined a super comfortable bed, nice and wide, at least four feet, with turned bedposts and rounded tops, a curved headboard, and a slightly shorter footboard. Perfect. Never again would she have to search forever through a thousand different furniture stores for the right chair or shelf. From now on, she would conjure up her own furnishings. Easy-peasy. This was going to be the most beautiful bed she had ever slept in.

Full of anticipation, she put her hands on the chair and murmured, "Converte!" The chair moved. Its seat broke apart, stretching longer and wider. The angular legs of the chair rounded as if being turned by an invisible hand, except there were no wood chips. The struts making up the backrest merged to form a large curved surface that stretched out to become the headboard of the bed. On the opposite end, a piece of wood formed into a matching, though much smaller, footboard. The frame stretched a bit more before stopping its transformation. Wonderful. The bed appeared exactly as she had imagined it. But wait, what about the slats, the mattress, and the bedding?

Shoot, she had forgotten to imagine those items. However, there was still the second chair. No reason to despair. She tilted her head to the sides, imagined a slatted frame, and aimed her hands at the remaining chair. "Converte." Before her eyes, the chair transformed into a slatted frame, but it was far too small. Mayla sighed. Wearily, she pictured in her mind how it perfectly fit the bed, then murmured again, much more impatiently, "Converte." The slatted frame grew in size. Great. Now all she had to do was merge it with the bed frame. Once again, she pointed her hands at it and shouted, "Vola!" With that, it lifted off the floor and united with the bed frame.

Relieved, she clapped her hands. "Perfect. Now all I need is a mattress." She looked around. What could be transformed into one? She also needed the crocheted blanket and pillow she'd swiped from Tom's bed. She needed an item made of fabric. She glanced around the cabin. As expected, no curtains were hanging in front of the windows and there was no sofa in the room either — but if there had been, she wouldn't have had to do any of these darn transformations in the first place. She convinced herself that there was nothing in the closet she could use. What about the box next to the door? Maybe there was something useful in it.

She took the three steps, opened it, and hesitated. In the box were two pairs of leather shoes, tubes full of grease for leather, brushes with different bristles and various shapes, and three tattered pieces of cloth. Who had forgotten these? No matter. She grabbed one of the torn pieces of cloth, probably cut from an old shirt, and placed it on the slatted frame. With a dreamy look, she imagined a thick and soft mattress — just imagining it made her sleepy.

"Converte." The cloth grew thicker and longer, bigger and wider, until it turned into a cozy mattress that fit perfectly on the slatted frame of the bed. Lovely. She grabbed the blanket and pillow and plopped down on the bed. Immediately, it cracked and the slatted frame broke apart, the bedposts collapsed, and the mattress crashed to the floor, bringing Mayla along with it. There was a loud bang and the mattress sagged, growing thinner and thinner until Mayla was lying on the slats of the shattered frame with nothing but a thin sheet under her.

"Huh, why didn't it work? Darn bed!" She got up, sighing loudly. It was a complete mess. Who could sleep amidst such chaos? But she was tired, so she decided she would clean it up tomorrow before she caused any more mischief. Her strength was now completely spent, and she probably didn't have enough to do a decent job. Now where was she going to sleep?

Yawning, she stretched and inspected the clutter. The two chairs suddenly seemed to her like the optimal sleeping place, but changing them back — who knew what might go wrong?

She let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging, when her gaze fell on the soft bed where Tom was resting. He was sleeping soundly, completely relaxed, apparently undisturbed by the mess she had made. His bed sure did look comfortable. And it was rather wide. Plenty of room for at least three or four people — or even two who weren't in a relationship, right?

She grabbed her blanket and pillow and joined Tom on the bed. He didn't react. Perhaps he'd be in that deep sleep for a few more days and wouldn't even notice her sleeping in his bed. Again, she yawned heartily and stretched. She lay down carefully next to Tom, who was oblivious, slid to the edge of the mattress, and laid as stiff as a board. His scent of mown grass and saltwater assaulted her nose. He smelled just as free as he lived. Was this his primary place? Or did he have several hideouts? Another one by the sea, perhaps?

Lying next to him felt comfortable and exciting at the same time. It was highly questionable that she would even get a wink of sleep. She turned on her side so she could look at him and pulled the blanket up under her chin, eventually falling asleep.

The sound of ripping fabric woke her up. Yawning loudly, she stretched and opened her eyes. It was already light out. Where was she? Where was that annoying noise coming from?

She straightened up, yawning. She was in a bed. Right next to it were smashed pieces of wood covered by a sheet. Ah, yes. She was in Tom's cabin and after unsuccessfully attempting to conjure her own bed, she'd lay down next to him. How was he?

Sleepily, she looked next to her on the mattress and was shocked. That side of the bed was empty. Nobody was in the bed except her! Where had he gone? Did someone...?

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

She turned her head and spotted Tom sitting outside in the sun next to the door. In one hand, he was holding a shoe and in the other, a tattered piece of cloth he rubbed over the boot.

That couldn't be right. "Are you polishing your shoes?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I?"

"I thought..." She yawned loudly.

"Wake up first. Then, you can explain to me why you slept in my bed."

Her cheeks turned fiery red and she jumped up. "It wasn't by choice!"

"Not by choice?" He glanced up from his chore for a moment. "Who was here that forced you into my bed?"

"Darn it, I tried to make my own."

"That much is obvious."

"Well, it didn't work out. I nursed you all day yesterday and was exhausted. I didn't want to spend the night on the floor. A gentleman always leaves the bed to the lady, by the way!"

His eyes flashed. "Even if he's unconscious?"

"Then even more so!"

Tom chuckled softly, bent over his shoes again, and continued shining them.

"How about a thank you? Thank you for saving my life, Mayla."

"Thank you for saving my life, Mayla." He looked up at her intently. Her knees went weak, but she held his gaze. He was smiling. A little bit, at least. He hardly ever did. Finally, he held up a shoe he had just polished to a shine. It was... one of hers? "Done. Look at that. Just like new."

Her eyes widened. She ran to him and took the ankle boot in her hands. The stitching looked flawless and the leather was shiny. "Thanks, you didn't have to do that. Please tell me you took it easy and were gentle with them. These are real leather. They were rather expensive."

"That's why you should take care of them on a regular basis."

She tilted her head and had a quick-witted reply ready on her lips, but then looked into his green eyes, which were gazing so openly and freely into hers. At that moment, she felt that something was different.

An excited tingle traveled down her spine between her shoulder blades and again she felt her cheeks redden. Shoot. Did she have to blush in front of him now? Only one thing helped. Distraction.

"What's for breakfast?"

"Gruel."

"Gruel?" Dumbfounded, she looked at him. "You're not serious, are you? Only grannies eat that."

He laughed softly. "Well, we only have oatmeal, sugar, and water."

"We could go..." She swallowed the rest of what she wanted to say and eyed him. He appeared pale, but at least he was sitting upright without any obvious pain. "How are you doing, by the way? Yesterday, you barely opened your eyes. I thought you might be dying on me and now you're sitting here shining shoes."

"I'm well enough to be out of bed." He stared at her briefly, as if considering whether to say more. "I don't have enough strength to jump folds yet."

She nodded. "No problem. Gruel sounds... filling?" She looked around. Oh, right, there was no kitchen. "I'll take care of it." So, how to prepare it...?

"You don't have to." He nodded, pointing his chin outside. She followed his gaze and spotted a small campfire on which a small pot was simmering. With little enthusiasm, she walked over to it and heaved a sigh. It looked quite soggy, but it was certainly better than starving, right?

"Do you even have two bowls in your one-man hideout?" She had seen plenty of cutlery, but dishes? She hurried back into the cabin and headed for the cupboard when he called to her.

"I've already eaten. You can use my bowl." He nodded towards the floor beside him where his bowl and spoon were.

"No offense, but I'd like a clean bowl and silverware."

"Look at it. I charmed it. It wasn't this clean when I bought it."

"You charmed it clean?" She looked skeptically at the bowl and spoon he held out to her. Why was he so eager for her to use his tableware? "I could just grab a clean..."

"You know what? I'll teach you the spell and you can clean-charm it yourself. All right?"

A new witch spell? Her eyes lit up. "Tell me."

Slowly, he set aside the shoeshine kit and raised his hand, focusing on the bowl and spoon. Then he paused and looked up. "Will you hand me my wand, please? It's next to the bed."

Was it still where she had set it the night before? He preferred to clean shoes by hand rather than by magic, but he said he cleaned the dishes using a spell, so he had to have done it without a wand! That meant he must be a descendant of one of the founding families. She looked at him wide-eyed when it occurred to her that she was being too obvious and quickly turned her back to him.

Her heart was pounding and her mind racing as she retrieved the wand and handed it to him. Could Tom... really do magic with his hands? Where did he get his powers? What family did he come from?

Pointing the tip at the dishes and silverware, he said, "Te ablue!"

She tried to focus on his performance, but nothing seemed to happen to the dish.

"As you can see, everything was already sparkling clean, but go ahead and try it yourself. You can practice once you've finished eating."

She gave him a curious look, then aimed one hand at the utensils. "Te ablue!" Nothing changed.

"As you can see, both were absolutely clean and germ-free. So eat. The gruel will fill you up."

Fill her up, perhaps, or maybe it would gum up her stomach and remain forever in her belly as an indigestible lump. She could claim she wasn't hungry. A loud growl came from her stomach, which contracted painfully. Bummer. So much for that plan.

He calmly picked up one of his shoes and brushed off the dust. "It won't kill you."

"Good to know." Still thinking about it, she grabbed the spoon and slopped a portion of the goo into her bowl. Tentatively, she tasted it. Okay, it wasn't as bad as she had feared, though it wasn't exactly a delicacy. At least her stomach seemed satisfied with it, because the pain and grumbling stopped.

Should she attempt to talk to him about her suspicions? But how could she innocently steer the conversation in that direction without him immediately closing himself off again? She had to somehow manage to address the subject. "Why do you clean our shoes so meticulously by hand? Do we have magical traces on us?"

He shook his head and bent over his work again. As he did, a few dark strands of hair fell across his forehead. With uniform strokes, he rubbed the dark leather with the brush until the dirt was gone.

"So why do it by hand?"

"I like clean shoes."

"Clean shoes? But my ankle boots aren't just clean, they're shiny and in better condition than ever."

"If you oil the leather regularly, they'll last longer." He set the brush aside and bent over the box at his feet. He opened one of the cans, and with a cloth he took out a portion of grease that he worked into the leather using circular motions. Wherever there were creases, he spread emollient on it until the shoe looked like new.

Interesting. So he liked to clean and care for shoes. That meant he cared about his footwear. Well, at least he developed relationships with objects. Then again, he had indeed established a deep bond with a living being. "Where is Kitty, by the way? As your spirit animal, shouldn't she have been watching over you yesterday when you narrowly escaped death?"

"As I said, right now she has some things to do herself."

Mayla thought longingly about the dear animal. How she would have loved to meet and cuddle the faithful cat again.

"You like her."

She nodded. "I also miss her..."

"You'll see her again soon enough."

"That's great, I'm looking forward to it! When will she come here?" She immediately looked around the deserted mountain to see if the cat's black tail was sticking out of the tall grasses anywhere, but she couldn't find Kitty anywhere. She and Tom were alone.

"It'll be a while." He placed the shoe he'd finished polishing beside the door and stretched. Then he raised his wand and murmured, "Refice!" Then, the shattered bed frame and the broken bed transformed back into two chairs, and the busted mattress turned into a cloth scrap, which he made fly into his shoeshine box with a wave of his wand. "Until then, let's make the most of the time." He winked at her, and with this she abruptly turned bright red. "No, not what you were thinking about just now."

"I wasn't thinking anything!"

He laughed softly. "So, where's your cop?"

"He's not my..." She took a deep breath. "I don't know."

"Then who prepared the potion that cured me?"

Clearly, he knew it hadn't been her. "I couldn't find Georg anywhere, so I brought Angelika."

He eyed her seriously. "You brought Angelika von Donnersberg here? To my hut?"

"Yes, but I didn't tell her the name of this place. I took her with me when I jumped and only thought of the spell."

He narrowed his eyes skeptically. "And that worked?"

"Obviously, or she couldn't very well have prepared the herbal brew."

"And she left without resisting?"

"She made me promise I'd come for dinner as soon as you were feeling better, otherwise..."

"You truly just thought the spell? You're absolutely certain, Mayla, that she didn't hear it? I need to know one hundred percent."

"Yes, one hundred percent."

"Okay, good. Though I'm sure you could have pulled it off on your own. Or don't you still have your grandma's herbal book?"

"Yes, I do. But I panicked, for crying out loud. I thought you were dying. With the stakes being so high, I had no intention of trying to make that potion for the first time."

"Oh, Georg would have helped you. Why don't you know where he is? Where did he go?"

She raised her hands questioningly. "If only I knew. We had arranged a meeting place in case we were separated, but he didn't show up."

He looked at her, skeptical. "He wasn't there? But he..."

"What?"

"It's not that important. What exactly happened yesterday? I'm having a hard time remembering. I came running down the stairs because Melinda's owl was screaming a warning to us."

"Oh, that was Grandma's spirit animal?" She remembered the pretty owl with the reddish glow around its yellow eyes. So it wasn't Mayla's spirit animal after all.

"Then I joined you and Georg in the living room and the cops appeared. When did they show up?"

"I don't know. I didn't see them either until you came downstairs."

"How could they have positioned themselves behind the curtains at the window?" His eyes narrowed to slits. "Georg! He betrayed us. That's why he's staying away right now."

"What? No. Not Georg. He would never..."

"Maybe not you, but me."

"Tom! Now stop these endless accusations. I don't believe it. He did work his magic to put the shield in front of us, didn't he? Otherwise the malediction would have hit us and you'd be in jail right now."

Tom shook his head. "He only did that because you were in the line of fire. For him, it's always been about you. But me, on the other hand, he's wanted to turn in and get out of the way from the beginning."

"I don't believe that. He would have told me." She faltered and looked at Tom. "Okay, he wouldn't have told me that or I would have let him have it. So, why didn't he show up at our meeting place?"

"I don't know. It must have been part of his plan. Or he didn't get there until later. I'm glad you didn't run into him, because otherwise you would have brought him here and we'd still have that traitor by our side."

Brooding, she popped the last spoonful of gruel into her mouth. "I can't believe that. Georg is not... insincere and deceitful. I would have sensed it."

"He's a cop and in his eyes, I'm a felon. For him, this was just a ploy to get me behind bars, not a matter of evil deception. It's what he was after from the start."

Georg? No, she couldn't believe that.

The doubt in her eyes wasn't lost on Tom. "Then why were the policemen already there? Why didn't we hear them arrive? Georg was at Melinda's house before us and before that, he was at the station. He must have told them I would be there. So, his colleagues positioned themselves behind the curtains to lie in wait for me."

"Then why didn't they ambush us as soon as we arrived?"

"Simple. They were waiting for us to find something useful."

She shook her head resolutely. "I don't think they showed up until we were already there."

"We should have heard them! The main thing is that the cop isn't constantly with us anymore. Now we can move faster, believe me. We will find your grandma."

"Actually, I can't..." She looked at the sunlit meadow, which just called for a picnic. Should she tell him about the letter? About her grandmother's assignment? Even though she'd asked her to keep quiet about it and she'd immediately burned the letter? She glanced at Tom thoughtfully. She trusted him. He had saved her life on so many occasions... but should she ignore her grandma's instructions without knowing her reasons?

"What can't you do?"

No, she wouldn't tell him about it today. After all, Tom kept secrets from her, too. "I can't wait to find my grandma. Maybe the two of us will make faster progress. So, how do we proceed? It's not like we can go back and search her house again. I'm sure the place has been crawling with cops since the incident."

"Let me have today to recover."

"Angelika said it would take days for you to get better."

"Oh, she exaggerated. You know her." He waved his hand dismissively. "We could start looking through the books. We should have a few more hours."

Frowning, she looked at him. "And then what happens?"

He looked up at her and grinned so that his white teeth flashed in the sun. The smile touched her to the core. "Let me surprise you."

Chapter Nine

They spent the morning poring through the books. Tom had fetched one of the logs so Mayla could practice transforming it into a table until it no longer collapsed under the weight of the reference books or her propped-up elbows.

It took a little time because it was quite complicated. Not only did she have to imagine the shape, which was rather easy for her, but also what the table had to support and how stable it would be. After a few attempts to get it just right, they sat down with the stack of books under the bright blue sky.

After a while, the sun became glaring and Tom asked her to turn a scrap of fabric from his shoe shine box into an awning that they could hang over the table. It gave her a chance to practice magic and Tom could conserve his strength. Although he sat upright and was going through the books diligently, she could tell he was not fully recovered.

At noon, they ate another helping of gruel, much to Mayla's chagrin. Tom's complexion was still pale and his movements slow, so she bit her tongue and refrained from further comments.

It was hot. Very hot. Perhaps it was the altitude? Weren't they in the Pyrenees? She'd have to ask him about it later, but she didn't want him to shut himself off from her again. He had been casual and carefree all morning and she wanted him to stay that way.

The books her grandmother had borrowed from the library were on the history of witches. Many covered the founding families and the period when the Four Circles had been established. Others dealt with the friction and wars that had raged between the circles and the von Eisenfels family over the centuries. However, the von Eisenfels family had not always been the instigator. There were also times when the covens had battled each other. Calling the entanglements and diverse situations of the past centuries complicated was putting it mildly.

Mayla found it increasingly difficult to concentrate and kept glancing at the deserted mountain landscape. The slopes of the rugged cliffs were covered with grass and flowers that swayed in the wind. Not a building or a soul was to be seen for miles. If they were in the Pyrenees, perhaps the Aguilera family, who was hiding the last Air Circle heir, lived nearby.

She peered furtively at Tom, who was leaning intently over a book that covered the founding era of the circles from the point of view of de Rochat, the founding family for the Earth Circle. She couldn't verify that he was actually doing magic without a wand, since not one spell passed his lips. He looked tired. Reading through the texts was exhausting him. Maybe she should suggest he take a break. While he napped, she could follow the trail to the Aguilera family. A fabulous plan.

"Gee, you seem exhausted."

He looked up and rubbed his eyes, which still had shadows around them. He also appeared tense, almost anxious. What had changed in the past few minutes? "I'll be fine."

"You shouldn't strain yourself. Take a midday nap. You know, just so that all that nursing I did yesterday wasn't for nothing."

"Later. I have to wait a little longer. I can..."

"Yes?"

He looked at her curiously. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to freak out and remain calm?"

Goodness, now what? Hesitantly, she nodded.

He gestured toward the closet. Mayla blinked in irritation. What did he mean?

"It's already begun."

"What has already begun?"

"Karla..."

"Karla? Oh, you mean Kitty."

"Yes, she's in the closet and..."

Mayla's eyes lit up. She immediately wanted to rush over to hug and snuggle with the faithful creature, but Tom restrained her as if suspecting that was just what she'd do.

"Stop! You promised you'd remain calm."

"I'm calm." If only he knew. "What's going on?"

"She's having kittens."

"What?" Her eyes widened. "She's having...?"

He nodded.

"When?"

"As I said, it has already begun..."

"And you didn't say anything? How long has she been in the closet?"

"She disappeared in there last night."

"That's why you didn't want me to get dishes and tableware this morning. Why did you let her do that? We have to help her."

"She can manage on her own. And she needs rest. Besides, she'll call me when she wants company or needs my help."

"For heaven's sake, Kitty is having kittens... That's why she had such a big belly. I thought an old woman was feeding her too much."

Grinning, he shook his head. "Let's continue our quest for a bit longer."

"Continue? You can't be serious. How am I supposed to concentrate?"

"Now you know why I didn't mention it earlier."

Worried, Mayla glanced at the closet, though she was immediately filled with joy again. Kittens. How cute. "How'd you know she's already...?”

"I feel it. And I see it. Every now and then, she sends me images. All are doing well. She'll call me when she wants our company. Until then, we'll leave her alone. We have to respect her wishes."

"Of course." She drummed her fingertips on the tabletop, crossed one leg over the other, and bobbed the toes up and down. Oh, how she would have loved to join Kitty and stroke her fur, hold her paw, and let her know she wasn't alone. She wanted to be there for her just as the faithful creature had been there for her on so many occasions.

Tom studied the texts, seemingly calm. But he repeatedly glanced over at the closet. He hadn't turned a page in minutes. It was obvious he was worried. Did that mean there were complications? Gosh, how she'd love to have such a connection with Kitty too...

She peered longingly at the closet when Tom suddenly jumped up and hurried over. Without asking what he had seen or felt or what images Kitty had sent him, she rushed right after him. With a wave of his hand, the closet door opened even before he got there. The view that presented itself made their hearts beat faster.

At the bottom of the closet, on the lowest shelf, was a cat basket lined with blankets and pillows that hadn't been there yesterday. Tom must have conjured them up in the middle of the night. Kitty was lying on the blanket, which was now wet. Half-hidden under her belly was a tiny little kitten, which emitted a high-pitched squeak and licked Kitty incessantly.

"How cute," Mayla whispered to the new cat mama, crouching down next to Tom. The little one squirmed and burrowed its nose against its mother's belly. But it wasn't over yet. Kitty's belly was quivering, rising and falling as the faithful creature meowed incessantly.

"Oh, dear, she's in pain. Isn't there anything we can do?"

"No, let's leave her be. She'll let me know if she wants help." He gazed lovingly at Kitty, and it seemed he was communicating telepathically with her. The moment was so personal and so intimate that Mayla felt like an intruder. Suddenly, she was distracted as she was bombarded with an image that only she could see.

The image was unclear, and everything was blurry. Pink hues mixed with each other and then disappeared before any shape was to be seen. Mayla's jaw dropped. Someone had sent her the picture. It hadn't come from her but from someone else. Was it Kitty? But that wasn't possible!

Kitty squirmed and mewed, turning back and forth until Tom gently placed his hand on her head and smiled at her. Again, the two seemed to be communicating telepathically. Finally, Kitty regained her composure and licked the newborn kitten across its back. It squeaked and snuggled under its mother, its eyes not yet open.

Mayla's heart beat faster as Kitty's belly rose and fell again intermittently. She mewed again, and a feeling of warmth and love that came from outside herself coursed through Mayla.

At that moment, the second kitten finally slipped out. Kitty immediately bent down and licked the wet animal. Once again, a deep, sincere feeling of love rippled through Mayla, threatening to overwhelm her. She clutched her heart and tears welled up in her eyes when she finally understood.

It wasn't Kitty who had shared the pink images with her and given her those heartfelt emotions. It had been the kitten who had been born second. A feeling of joy gripped Mayla's heart and tears streamed down her cheeks as she tentatively reached out to the tiny little kitten. When she touched it, warm feelings flooded her again. She had never been this moved before and cautiously stroked the little one's damp little head. It reacted, whimpering softly. To Mayla, it seemed as if it was pressing its head against her hand before it snuggled up to its mommy again. Kitty bent over it, pulled it with her mouth to its teats alongside its sibling, and licked them both clean.

Tom put his hand on Mayla's arm. "Come on, we'll let her rest a while."

The touch snapped her out of her thoughts and she blinked several times, dazed. "Tom, do you know what just happened?"

He smiled. It was a sincere smile, frank and full of warmth. He stroked her arm tenderly. "Yes, I know."

"I mean, the second kitten... it's... I think... it has to be… no, I'm sure..."

Tom laughed softly. "Yes, you're right. The second kitten is your spirit animal."

Tears streamed down Mayla's cheeks as if all the floodgates had opened. "How can you be sure?"

"Karla... oh, right, you call her Kitty. She likes the name, by the way." He grinned. "She told me when you entered our fold the first time. That's why she followed you. She has taken over her kitten's duties until it is old enough to live by your side."

"She did? How did she know she'd give birth to... my spirit animal?"

"She was carrying it when you became a witch. Normally, spirit animals are born almost simultaneously with their spirit witches. Obviously with you, things happened differently."

"Don't tell me she sensed one of her young trying to..."

"Exactly. She felt it wanting to protect you. She felt it from the beginning. That's why she was with you so often, comforting you."

"Oh, Kitty, you wonderful cat mama. You will forever have a special place in my heart." She stroked the animal's forehead devotedly and Kitty mewed faintly. Then she gently stroked the back of her spirit animal one last time and it squeaked softly. With a heavy heart, she forced herself to move away from the three felines and retreated with Tom.

Chapter Ten

Once the kittens were born, Tom did not return to the table in the sun to continue studying the books. He seemed pale and the shadows around his eyes were more prominent.

"I'm going to lie down for an hour." Not waiting for a response from her, he dragged himself to his bed and fell asleep within seconds.

Mayla wasn't surprised. Based on his condition the day before, she believed he would be incredibly exhausted all day and take several naps. It was well past noon and this was the first time he had rested. More than likely, he had been worried about the cat giving birth and had utilized energy he didn't have yet to assist Kitty. Surely, he'd be sleeping soundly for several hours. She grinned. It gave her an opportunity to follow up on the only clue her grandmother had left. Her search for the Air Circle founding family heir could begin.

She tiptoed outside and closed the door. The sun had passed its zenith and it was getting hotter. She rolled up her sleeves and removed the amulet key from under her blouse. She clasped it and thought, 'Perduce me ad Familiam Aguileram in Pyrenaeo,' and the green of the mountains and the blue of the sky around her blurred into an indiscernible slurry. She kept her eyes closed until there was solid ground under her feet again. She found herself back in front of a small house big enough to house four people tops, with a fence and with white plaster falling off the wall in places. There was no one to be seen or heard.

Curious, she glanced over her shoulder at the area. It wasn't unlike the one she had just left except that the mountains towered in the north and the house was located at the foot of the massive mountain range. There was no other building in the vicinity. No farm, no car, no witch's broom. But there were several hectares of vineyards stretching up the Pyrenees.

Squaring her shoulders, she turned her attention to the small house with the peaked roof and crooked shutters. With the next strong wind, they'd blow right off and land on the ground that was covered in dry blades of grass — that much was certain.

She walked slowly towards the gate, which squeaked when she opened it. At the same time, she saw something dart past the window. Stay calm, stay calm. If need be, she'd cast the shield spell and jump back to Tom's hut. She could do it. She was capable of it, and her mission was of great importance.

She marched decisively toward the front door and rapped on it with her knuckles. Nothing stirred even though a minute before she'd seen a shadow through the window — so, someone had to be there! She knocked again, harder and more insistent this time, when a male voice rang out and Mayla winced.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Hello?" She searched for a peephole on the door to locate the occupant of the house, but there was nothing she could look through to see who was standing on the other side of the door.

"Explain yourself or leave! You're on private property."

My goodness, whatever happened to being hospitable? "My name is Mayla..." She thought feverishly. How could she convince this overly suspicious man to let her in?

"How do you know about this fold?"

"My grandma told me to come here."

"Your grandma? And who might that be?"

"Melinda von Flammenstein."

Silence.

"Melinda von Flammenstein has no heirs. Her daughter and son-in-law were childless and killed over thirty years ago."

"That's what my grandmother wanted everyone to believe so I would be safe from Vincent von Eisenfels." She leaned to the side and peered through the window to where she had seen the shadow. All was quiet.

"How can I be sure you're telling the truth?"

"How can I be sure you won't kill me because I'm the last descendant of the von Flammensteins?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Why would I lie to you?"

"Where did you get the spell to get to this fold?"

Goodness, it was like verbal ping-pong! "My grandma left me a letter telling me about this place and about you."

"Why would she do that? What do you want here?"

She glanced over her shoulder, surveying the area. It appeared they were alone, but she didn't want to risk someone overhearing her grandmother's message. "I'd appreciate it if we could settle this in private without the whole neighborhood finding out — if there are even other houses nearby."

She heard a grumble and then the door opened, faster than Mayla had expected. Standing in front of her was a man, probably around sixty, who was about her height. His hair was dark brown, and just a few gray strands peeked out at his temples. There were, however, numerous deep wrinkles that had formed around his eyes and on his broad forehead thanks to his lively facial expressions. There were several red spots on his white shirt — hopefully not blood! He clutched his wand with his right hand and pointed it sullenly at her while sticking out his fat belly as if it were a shield.

Narrowing his dark eyes skeptically, he eyed her from head to toe, lingering for a moment on her gold heart necklace before looking into her eyes and nodding slowly. "You're Melinda's granddaughter?"

She shrugged, smiling. "Apparently so. I only found out a few weeks ago. My name is Mayla." Red spots or not, she was here for a reason. She bravely held out her right hand to him.

He shook her hand without taking his eyes off her. Apparently, he liked what he saw because his grim expression vanished. "I see the resemblance. Very well." He lowered his wand and stepped aside. "Come in. Sorry for my harsh greeting. I needed to be certain I could trust you. My name is Cesaro Aguilera. May I offer you something to drink, Mayla? Perhaps a glass of Somontano?"

"Somontano? Sounds good to me. Is it local?"

"I grow it myself."

Perhaps that explained the red speckles on his shirt? He followed her gaze and smiled as he waved his wand over the spots so they disappeared. He gestured invitingly inside his home. "Please, come in."

He led her into the house, which was cozy and well-kept — in stark contrast to the rickety and dilapidated exterior. They went through a small hallway to enter the living room, where there were thin carpets covering the floor.

"Please, sit here." He pointed to a group of wicker chairs near a wide window. It offered a magnificent view of the pristine grasslands behind the house that stretched far to a town that she could just barely make out. She sat down, expecting him to join her, but he immediately disappeared through an arched passageway into an adjoining room. Judging from the clattering and jingling sounds, it was the kitchen.

"I'll be right back with you. Please be patient for a moment. Your grandmother hasn't come to see me for a long time. I understand that she's disappeared for weeks without a trace. It's the reason I've grown more suspicious of strangers knocking on my door. Do you have any clues to her whereabouts?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid, but we're working hard on finding her." She looked around the room. There were countless wine glasses stored in a tall glass case and framed documents on the walls, but unfortunately she could not read them due to her lack of Spanish. The grape and vine illustrations spoke for themselves — surely they were awards for his wines.

"Isn't it a gorgeous view that I get to enjoy every day?" She hadn't noticed that he had approached her from behind. In his hands he was balancing a tray with two glasses, a carafe of wine, and a plate of cheese, ham, and olives. Her mouth watered at the sight.

"The view is fantastic. What's the name of the town over there?"

"Barbastro. If you're not pressed for time, it would be my pleasure to give you a tour. The old town and its cathedral are especially picturesque." He held out a glass of wine and sat down beside her, "Please, help yourself."

"Thank you. Looks delicious!" She took a piece of cheese and her eyes widened with joy. "How soft and creamy."

"Now taste the wine."

Delighted, she took a sip. With hints of berry, it tasted so fresh that she was tempted to down the entire contents. She wasn't an oenologist, but she had tasted enough wines to know that this one was darn good. "It's delicious. May I become your apprentice, Mr. Aguilera?"

He chuckled boisterously, making her like him even more. "I'm happy for any help. And please, call me by my first name or I'll feel ancient. In Spain, we don't like to be addressed by our family name. So, what brings you to me?"

"My grandma – unfortunately I haven't had the chance to meet her in person yet – left me a letter. She..." Hesitantly, she eyed the friendly Spaniard, who looked so guileless that she was on the verge of entrusting him with all her secrets. Was he the one who had given refuge to the heir of the Air Circle back then? Or did he simply happen to live in the same house — a successor, so to speak? Well, she'd never make any progress without taking a leap of faith. She had to start with someone.

"My grandmother gave me a special assignment. I'm supposed to find the heir to the Air Circle, the last living Montgomery. I'm afraid I don't even know his first name."

Cesaro nodded leisurely, swirled his wine glass, and took a sip. Apparently, he had no intention of making it easy on her.

"My grandma gave me this location as a clue to finding his whereabouts. Any chance you can help me?"

He looked at her pensively. "What makes you think I could?"

"The last living Montgomery escaped Vincent von Eisenfels's assassination attempt and was hidden. If I understand my grandmother correctly... you are a member of the family that provided him with a safe haven. Or am I mistaken?"

He stared at her for a long time. Finally, he averted his eyes and looked out the big window. "Protecting this last descendant is top priority." He swirled the glass again and took a long sip.

"I believe so too, but the way I see it, this last descendant, like me, is no longer a child. It's time they took on the responsibility that they inherited as the head of the Air Circle."

"The Council of our Circle has taken power. They've had to for many, many years — as they've done with the Earth Circle too. And since the disappearance of your grandmother, as far as I know, also with the Fire Circle. I don't think it makes any difference if it's the heir or the Council who runs the Circle."

Hearing his words left no doubt he was an air wizard. Mayla peered at his hand, but she did not see a signet ring. Did that mean he was against the... system? He had probably taken it off at the time he hid the heir to the Air Circle so no one could find them.

"It's not only about running the Circle. I'm in the same situation. It's about preventing Vincent von Eisenfels from escaping the fold my grandmother locked him in. In the meantime, we must assume she was abducted — there's still no trace of her. Perhaps the abduction served to weaken her magic. I'm sure the followers or family of von Eisenfels are the masterminds behind the whole thing. They want Vincent released from the world-fold. Only the heir of the Air Circle founding family and I can manage together to stabilize the shield around that fold."

"I think there's much more to it. The abduction of your grandmother is a ploy to lure you and the heir of the Air Circle founding family out of hiding. If Melinda hadn't been abducted, you wouldn't have made an appearance. Am I correct in my assumption?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I believe my grandmother would have quickly released my magic when... oh, well, I'm not sure. All I know is my grandma left me this letter. It contained the spell that brought me here. I must find the Montgomery heir and together we can prevent von Eisenfels from escaping. It's extremely important — you know that!"

Cesaro sipped his wine and ate a piece of ham. He seemed to have all the time in the world. While he was thinking, she grabbed an olive. What a feast after all that gruel. After five minutes, he still hadn't said a word.

"Do you know the whereabouts of the heir?" she asked.

He looked at her intently, neither nodding nor shaking his head.

Never give up! "It's imperative that we prevent von Eisenfels from being released — you agree, don't you?"

"Naturally!"

"And isn't it in my best interest as well as in the interest of the last Montgomery to see to it that the murderer of our parents can't continue with his atrocities?"

"Have you studied rhetoric, Mayla?"

"Don't change the subject. Tell me where I can find the last Montgomery."

Breathing deeply, he set down his wine glass. "If only I knew..."

Excited, she leaned forward in the wicker chair until she was sitting on the edge. She'd do anything for some chocolate now. "What do you mean?"

"I haven't seen him in about twenty years."

"Excuse me? I thought you were entrusted with his protection."

He sighed. "I was, yes. My wife and I took care of that timid boy for ten years. It was a wonderful time, especially when he warmed up and started trusting us." Cesaro smiled beatifically, then the corners of his mouth drooped. "Until... disaster struck and he left. Since then, I haven't laid eyes on him nor have I heard as much as a peep from him."

She swallowed. "What disaster?"

Cesaro sighed deeply and leaned back in his wicker chair. "It was so long ago... I don't think it's good to rehash what's been forgotten."

"Perhaps it'll help me find him..."

He shook his head. "It won't. It's of no consequence."

She immediately assumed an innocent air, but he was not persuaded. "Can you give me any other clues? His name? His appearance? Friends or acquaintances he may have gone to... Anything might be useful."

"His birth name is Andrew Steven Montgomery, but I'm sure he changed his name when he left."

"How old was he at the time?"

"That was just before his fifteenth birthday."

"Do you have a photo of him? Maybe it'll make recognizing him easier."

"I don't," he said. "Photographs and records were taboo. No tangible traces of him were allowed."

"Then describe to me what he looked like. Maybe that'll help a little."

"He had dark hair and bright green eyes — the family's distinguishing feature."

"Dark hair and green eyes?" Dark hair and green eyes? Could it be...? "Was he also particularly tall?"

"For a boy his age... I think so, but we didn't have any other children, so I can't answer. At the time he left, he was definitely taller than me."

That wasn't saying much...

The Air Circle heir had only been fifteen when he'd left Cesaro. So he could have grown a fair bit since then. A face and a name came to mind. Tom. Tom Carlos was what he called himself now. Could it be? Was it... so... obvious?

"Back then, where did he go?"

"I don't know. He left during the night. I woke up in the morning and he was gone."

"Without saying goodbye?" It had to be Tom! She recalled situations like the one earlier when he had run up to the closet and charmed it open without a wand. Tom was the Montgomery heir...

"Yes, without saying a word." His shoulders slumped and he looked so sad that she gave him a tentative hug.

An hour later, she left Cesaro Aguilera, though she promised to come back soon. Seeing how he grieved made her heart ache and she was struck by an image that troubled her.

Her parents — were they also so distressed, sitting on the couch for weeks, wondering what had become of her? Mayla had also simply disappeared overnight. She hadn't seen or contacted her parents in over five weeks. What if the breaking of the spell hadn't erased her from their memory? Were they worried? Had they searched for her? Or, had Georg taken precautions like he did with her boss, Conny, and... make up an excuse?

Taking a deep breath, she made a decision. She had to face her fear and finally go to her parents' house to see if they remembered her.

She pictured the grieving Cesaro in her mind and imagined her parents worrying, crying, and praying she would come back. She couldn't be selfish — even though it would break her heart to realize her parents' love was only part of the spell and they no longer remembered her because it was broken.

Chapter Eleven

She rummaged through her purse. There. Indeed. Her car keys. How lucky! Without knowing which fold was near her parents' home, she jumped straight from Cesaro's house, going incognito with sunglasses on, to the fold near Bertha's inn. Once there, she hurried to her apartment.

She encountered no one familiar and didn't feel any watchful eyes on her. As she passed the police station, she couldn't help but think of Georg. Where the heck was he? Why hadn't he shown up at their meeting place? Maybe she should jump to the Rhenish cliffs later. Perhaps he had shown up there and left her a message.

She reached her apartment without incident. Her reliable Mini was waiting for her in the rented parking space. She cast a longing glance up at the windows of her apartment. Should she duck in quickly? Take a short shower? She sighed dreamily.

No, she couldn't become reckless — but then again, this entire undertaking could be considered a prime example of recklessness. But the thought that her parents were suffering like Cesaro Aguilera haunted her and that wouldn't change until she drove by her parents' house and convinced herself otherwise.

She got behind the wheel and drove off. She reached Friedberger Road without incident and drove north. It felt good to drive, not only because she loved zooming around with the roof open and singing along with music, but also because she felt in control of her life. She had the steering wheel in her hands and she decided whether to accelerate or brake. At no other time did she feel as free and autonomous as she did behind the wheel.

To distract herself from her excitement, she turned on the radio and hummed along to the latest songs. Less than half an hour later, she passed the Nieder-Erlenbach town sign and turned onto Schoenblick Street. The buildings, mostly single-family homes with mature gardens, appeared unchanged.

She drove slowly down the street until she reached her destination. Heart pounding, she parked on the street and was about to rush to her parents' house when she spotted them in the front yard. They were talking to each other. Her mother laughed and her father put his arm around her. They didn't seem sad at all. It felt so good to see them. She should have come much earlier! Smiling, she hurried toward them, looking forward to talking to them and hugging her mother.

Halfway there, she stopped and froze. Why were they so exuberant and cheerful? Either they hadn't noticed her long absence or... or they didn't remember her...

Mayla stood there in front of the garden gate in the middle of the sidewalk, looking patiently at Anneliese and Peter Falk. Any moment now, they would turn their heads in her direction and look at her. Any moment now. Two more seconds, one... Surely, they remembered her. Surely!

Her mother's gaze met hers and stayed on her for a moment. Relieved, Mayla smiled and was about to hurry toward her when her mother nodded fleetingly and looked away as if she were a stranger. Her father peered at her questioningly without a smile or a nod, ever the suspicious skeptic, until Mayla took a step and started to say hello.

"We're not buying anything!" Peter Falk shouted.

Her heart sank, her limbs grew heavy, and she gaped at her parents. Then, she forced herself to nod, lowered her eyes, and continued walking. Each step caused her physical pain. Each step on the asphalt distanced her from her history, life, and welcoming home. Her parents no longer remembered her. All the love had been merely a spell. They no longer remembered her. Mayla Falk... no longer existed...

She dragged herself away from her childhood home. It was as if she had never been inside, as if she hadn't lived there for most of her life, as if there weren't numerous photos throughout all the rooms documenting her life. A thick lump formed in her throat and she peered wistfully back at it until her father gave her another wary look. Did she seem familiar to him? Was he perhaps experiencing déjà vu? But he averted his eyes and led her mother past the old apple tree where her swing had hung until recently and that she had enjoyed sitting on even as an adult. What had happened to it? Or had she never existed in their world? What had happened to all her things?

"Mayla?" a familiar female voice called from across the street.

A shock ran through her limbs. Slowly, she turned and saw... Heike. Her friend hurried across the street, face flushed. She was waving at her.

"Heike! How good to see you!" She embraced her friend warmly. "How are you? You look good. How are your cats?"

"You're asking about the cats? You've been unreachable for weeks; you were gone or simply refused to answer the door when we were supposed to get together. I stood outside your apartment door, banging on it, calling your name, and no one answered, and you're actually asking about my cats?" She braced her hands on her plump hips and glared at her. "I've been so worried about you."

"I didn't mean for you to be. I've just had... so much going on lately."

"So much going on? Like what? And did you quit your job or what? Conny doesn't know anything and is completely disinterested when I ask about you. It almost seems as if she no longer even remembers you! You've been missing for five weeks!"

"Sorry, I should have called, but I had..."

"Yeah?"

"...lots going on."

"So that's what you're going with?"

Smiling wryly, she put her hands on her friend's arms. "I'm sorry, Heike. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Let's keep talking inside. I'm in desperate need of a refreshment." She tugged at the orange shirt that was plastered to her back.

"Inside?" Frowning, Mayla looked at her friend. Then she remembered what she meant. For crying out loud, she was talking about her childhood home — which wasn't hers any longer! Heike raised her arm to wave euphorically at her parents, who were still in the front yard watering the roses. Her father glanced at them, perplexed. Shoot, she couldn't let Heike notice that the two of them no longer recognized her. Hastily, she pulled her friend by the arm further away from the garden fence.

"Please, let's go for a walk. My parents just read me the riot act because I haven't contacted them in such a long time. I can't take any more allegations today."

Heike misinterpreted her father's knitted eyebrows and agreed, panting. "All right. But slowly, or I won't stop sweating and everyone will think I went swimming with my clothes on." She waved again at her father and mother, who frowned as they watched them. "Oh dear, they do look upset. But not even saying hello to me..."

"Don't hold it against them. They'll get over it and then probably feel guilty. Next time, my mom will invite you in for her famous raspberry cream pie — you'll see."

"Okay, slow down, Mayla, or I'll have a heart attack."

Mayla turned to look at her parents' property. They were no longer in the garden. Phew. That was a close call.

"What possessed you to come here anyway?" Mayla asked.

"Well, since you've been ignoring me for weeks..."

"Didn't you get my letter?"

"The letter? Of course I did. But did you respond to my reply? No! I was here to ask your parents what was going on with you."

Oh, wow. She'd timed it perfectly.

"Now tell me the truth." Heike looked at her sternly. "What is going on?"

Think, think!

"It's hard to imagine, Heike, but I have..." If anyone would believe that she could suddenly perform witchcraft, it was her friend, but she couldn't put her in danger. "...I met someone."

Heike's eyes widened. "Who? What does he look like? Where did you meet him?"

"On... a walk through the forest."

Heike looked at her skeptically. "While walking through the forest? Mayla, don't talk nonsense. Since when do you go walking in the forest?"

She laughed. How she had missed Heike! "I was desperate because of Henning and Conny, and I thought a change in my life was in order, so I..."

"...went for a walk through the forest? Okay, I don't think I would have advised you to do that, but hey. So, what happened? Did a bear attack you and he rescued you?"

"No, I... went for a walk and... tripped. Then, out of nowhere, there he was, standing next to me, offering to help me up."

Thrilled, Heike clapped her hands together. "Just like in the movies."

"Exactly."

"So, what's his name? Where is he now? Why is he keeping you away from work, family, and friends? He's not a member of a cult, is he?"

Her friend was not entirely wrong in her assumption. "No, he's not in a cult, but... well... he talked me into... traveling with him."

"Traveling? Where have you been?"

"Lake Constance and to a castle whose name I forget. Then onto the North Sea and the Black Forest."

"Seriously? He must be a real gentleman."

"Well, sort of."

"So, you're done traveling? Are you coming back to work on Monday? I think you should, Mayla. Sometimes, I get the impression that Conny and the others in the office don't remember you." She laughed in disbelief.

"I'm not going back to the agency next week. I'm not even sure if I'll go back at all." She had just uttered the sentence without actually giving it any thought, but now that it was out there, she wondered if that outcome wasn't inevitable. Her life had fundamentally changed. Her future was unpredictable, full of danger and threats in a whole new world. A job at an advertising agency no longer seemed particularly enticing in light of the magic that had become a part of her everyday life.

"You're not coming back?" The corners of Heike's mouth dropped, as did her shoulders.

"It won't affect our friendship one bit!"

A wry smile stretched across Heike's face. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you, it's simply that the office isn't the same without you."

"I'm sure that's how I'd feel if you were no longer around." Sentimental, they fell into each other's arms.

"Oh, Mayla, it's so good to see you. Perhaps now you'll believe my tarot card reader."

Mayla had a hard time suppressing a smirk. "What was her prophecy?"

"Strong forces will pressure you to embark on unknown paths."

Mayla paled.

"I interpret it this way," Heike added gleefully, back to her old self. "The strongest power on Earth is love. You fell in love and encountered unknown paths during your travels." She laughed enthusiastically and Mayla joined in half-heartedly.

"Unfortunately, I have to go now." Heike pulled her glasses off her nose and cleaned them with a handkerchief. "Kasimir still isn't feeling any better."

"Oh dear, the poor thing. Did you see the vet again?"

"Yes, but she can't find anything wrong with him. Great vet. Even accused me of keeping my apartment too cold. Such nonsense. You won't believe it, but she suggested we put him to sleep."

"Oh, Heike." She stroked her arm sympathetically.

"Yeah, right, like I'm giving up that easily. After all, this is Kasimir! I've made a new appointment with another vet. It'll cost me almost half a month's salary, but if he can help my little darling, it's more than worth it to me."

"I can imagine. I'll keep my fingers crossed. Give Kasimir a cuddle for me."

"I will. Promise you'll check in with me regularly. You understand, right?"

"I promise." They embraced warmly and Mayla accompanied her friend to her red Opel, which was parked near her parents' house. Thankfully, no one was in sight and they were able to say their goodbyes without being disturbed.

Mayla watched her friend as she slowly drove away before strolling toward her car across the street. Her eyes scanned the front yard of her parents' house, sending her on another emotional roller-coaster. With a sense of loss, she stopped, lost in the memories of her home — her former home — and stood there for several minutes.

The shrill caw of a crow yanked her out of her reverie and she trudged onward to her car. Dropping into the driver's seat, she started the engine and drove away a bit faster than the legal limit — away from Mayla Falk and everything that had made her...

She steered unthinkingly through the streets, leaving Nieder-Erlenbach behind her, driving along the country road with no destination in mind. Overwhelmed, she banged on the radio switch so as not to have to endure the annoying droning any longer and clutched the steering wheel.

They no longer knew her. Her parents no longer remembered her. What had happened to all the things that indicated Mayla had been a part of their life? The photos, the painted pictures, the handmade Mother's Day cards? Her room with her bed from her teenage years? What was in that room now? What had happened to all her things? They had to be gone, or else her parents would have acknowledged her when she'd stood before them, recognized her as their prodigal daughter. But they hadn't.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. An emptiness surged through her mind, a sense of desolation that hurt her to the core. Who was left in her life? Her foster parents no longer knew her, her biological parents were dead, and her grandmother had been abducted. Georg was gone and Tom... Well, she really would like to know his story!

It had been good to see Heike! Fortunately, her friend still remembered her. Apparently, only her parents were affected. Her grandmother had only bewitched those two to accommodate Mayla. All the other people had become part of her life without magical intervention, so they could still remember her. Heike said her boss acted as if she didn't remember Mayla, which was most likely thanks to Georg's spell.

Somehow, Mayla had to find a way to stay in touch with Heike despite her new life, which was exciting, to say the least. Having such a good friend was rare...

An image of velvety black fur popped into her mind, accompanied by a feeling of sincere love overwhelming her heart. What was it? Where did this love, this deep and sincere feeling come from?

When she realized who was sending her these images and emotions, tears rolled down her cheeks. It was the little kitten that had been born earlier that day, her spirit animal. A longing seized her and deep gratitude calmed her troubled mind like a protective hand. She wanted to go to him. He was calling out to her — by now Mayla knew the little cat was male and that his name was Karl. He called for her and missed her, though he was still too small to be without his mother.

It was wonderful to finally have a spirit animal. She would never be alone again.

She missed little Karl and it was time to check on Tom. Hopefully he hadn't woken up and noticed her absence. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand and made her way back.

Chapter Twelve

She drove through the streets, searching. Did she have to return to Frankfurt or was there a world-fold nearby?

Decreasing her speed, she surveyed the landscape carefully. It was familiar terrain from her childhood days. She recognized every corner, every tree, each blade of grass. How many hikes, bike rides, and picnics had she been on with her parents? Before the memories overwhelmed her, she pushed them aside and focused on her surroundings.

It took her a while to discover a forest that couldn't possibly have been part of the normal human world. It was in the middle of a large field with a colorful sign advertising "Fresh Strawberries — Pick Your Own." There were a few people, some of them children, scurrying about the field. They were bending down, carrying their filled baskets, and laughing. But not one of them noticed the forest. Nobody was gazing at the trees with their mighty crowns. One child simply ran towards it and then disappeared. There was no doubt in her mind that it was a fold.

She parked her Mini on the side of the road and hurried over. Immediately, a young woman, probably a student, approached her and offered her a basket.

"Welcome to our strawberry farm. You pay after you pick. The ones that end up in your mouth are free of charge."

"Thank you, but my friend is already here. I see him over there, so we don't need another basket." She smiled at the leggy twenty-year-old and made her way towards a father holding his two-year-old son in his arms. Unobtrusively, Mayla bent down a few steps before them to pick a strawberry. She peered over her shoulder and saw the student busy greeting a young family, allowing Mayla to proceed unnoticed. She popped the strawberry into her mouth. It could have ripened a little longer in the sun, but it already had flavor. She thought about picking another but felt guilty for not paying.

As she left the field and stepped onto the leafy forest floor, she heard countless birds chirping. How big was this world-fold? Who had created it and who lived there? Was there a picturesque witch village hidden amongst the trees, like in the forest in the middle of Bornheim? But her curiosity would have to be satisfied at another time. She fished out her amulet key and thought, 'Perduce me ad Pyrenaeum desertum.'

In the blink of an eye, she landed in the meadow in front of the hut and Tom appeared before with his wand drawn. "Oh, it's you. Where have you been?"

"I was with my parents." It was only partially true, but it wasn't a lie either.

"For that long?"

"I wasn't watching the time. How is Kitty? And the little ones?" She brushed past him, taking in his scent of wildness and meadow. Before his smell could rattle her again, she felt the genuine emotion that had prompted her swift return. Tentatively, she opened the closet door and crouched down to the sleeping kittens who were curled up against Kitty's warm belly. She gently stroked the mama cat's head.

"You did a great job, Kitty. And thank you for letting your little darling be my spirit animal."

Kitty meowed softly and Mayla scratched her behind the ears, whereupon the cat began to purr. Immediately, Karl started to whimper — it was easy for Mayla to tell the mewing kittens apart. Visually, it was no problem either since Karl had a black coat and the other kitten was caramel brown.

She sensed Karl — he was calling her and between them was forming an emotional bond that Mayla never wanted to give up. She rubbed his forehead softly and he pressed his little head against her finger.

"Sweet little Karl, I'm here." She stroked his back gingerly. "Go back to sleep, little Karl." Leaving the door ajar so as to give the cats enough privacy, she strolled outside to join Tom.

He was sitting at the table, poring over the books in search of clues as to where her grandma might be hidden. She watched him. Black strands were falling across his forehead and his green eyes were darting left to right as he read. Was he the one she was looking for? The last living Montgomery? The last descendant of the Air Circle founding family?

At that moment, he glanced up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" As casually as possible, she settled down at the table across from him and avidly drank a glass of water.

He looked at her quizzically. "And?"

"And what?"

"Did they remember you?"

The question came so abruptly — she hadn't been expecting it and the memory hit her like an unanticipated giant wave, along with the understanding that her parents had forgotten her. A lump formed in her throat. She couldn't get a word out, so she just shook her head.

Tom reached out his hand to her — but he'd pull it back anyway. But, contrary to her expectation, he placed his left hand on hers and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. Tears welled up in her eyes and she could no longer hold them back. Suddenly, he rose and sat next to her. He put his arms around her and gently pulled her against him. A sob escaped her throat, then another, and she leaned against him gratefully. An endless stream of tears rolled down her cheeks onto his shirt. Instead of pushing her away, he continued holding her tightly. This time, he stayed

with her. Finally...

After a while, her sobs subsided and he stroked her hair. "It's all right. I know it's not easy when you have... no family. You'll get used to it."

Mayla looked up and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Heavens, she didn't want to think about how her makeup had smeared. She quickly ran her knuckle under her lower lashes to remove most of the black puddles. "You... also have no family?"

He nodded.

It was the perfect moment to ask him about his kin. "Where is your family? Are your birth parents also... dead?"

Lowering his gaze, he rose from the table so quickly that the bench wobbled. "Let's change the subject."

Okay, direct inquiries about his origins were not a good idea. Yet an optimal opportunity had presented itself — she'd had to seize the moment! Still, it had destroyed the closeness he'd allowed between them for the first time. She sighed and took out her compact from her handbag. With the help of a cotton swab, she freed herself of those pesky panda eyes.

Tom tapped the thick tome lying open on the table, which he'd been perusing before Mayla had returned. "I've discovered something in this book. It's about the search for hidden world-folds. Look, your grandmother made notes on this section."

She quickly put away her compact and turned her attention to the text Tom was pointing to. "I don't see any notes."

"Of course she didn't write in the book — she didn't want to ruin it. Actually, your grandma is conscientious that way. Here, look, with a spell, I can make her notes visible." He reached for his wand and pointed the tip at the book — yet the day before he'd rashly cast a spell without it. Right in front of her eyes!

"Aperi!"

Next to the printed letters there appeared curved, handwritten notes. As Mayla tilted her head to read them, Tom turned the book toward her.

The chapter was about an Englishwoman named Wendy Shepherd, who had been doing research on the southern coast of Britain because she believed she had stumbled upon a hidden world-fold.

"What does that mean, hidden world-fold?"

"Hidden folds are kept secret from the majority of witches and wizards. Some journalists and scientists search for these secret folds — for various reasons."

"For example?"

"Some cartographers want to be the first to provide maps that actually show every single world-fold. They hire explorers or go about it themselves. Obviously, they can't search the whole world, so they peruse historic texts for clues that point to such hidden world-folds."

"Like this chapter on Wendy Shepherd?"

Nodding, he pointed to a black-and-white photo of a smartly-dressed woman in her forties beaming confidently at the camera. "She was one of the more recent researchers. According to the text, fifteen years ago, she pursued a vertical trail of light in the air that could have indicated a hidden world-fold. But, as she tried to open the fold, she was strangled by her own necklace within seconds. Since the investigating detectives found no clues at the scene, the general consensus was that magic was involved."

Goosebumps spread over Mayla's bare arms and she clutched her necklace. "How could that have happened?"

"Read the note your grandma wrote in the margin."

Mayla bent a little closer over the book.

Strangled by metal — could indicate the von Eisenfels' base.

"What does she mean by that?"

"Apparently, your grandmother believed Wendy Shepherd had stumbled upon a world-fold the von Eisenfels had created and were hiding in."

"So, where does metal come into play?"

"Just as founding families and their coven members control certain elements, such as you control fire, the von Eisenfels family can bend metal to their will without much effort."

"How could my grandmother determine the material of the necklace? Women also wear leather cords around their necks or beaded chains or..."

He pointed his wand at the photo. In the next moment, it was as if he were holding a magnifying glass on the woman's neck.

"How did you do that?"

"The spell is called 'Amplifica!' So take a closer look."

Mayla bent over the book. Now she could easily make out each link of the gold necklace shimmering in the sun. "So, the explorer's necklace was made of gold, which means a member of the von Eisenfels might have killed her?"

"That seems to have been your grandmother's assumption. Besides, the supposed murder took place when Vincent von Eisenfels was already locked up in the world-fold."

"Okay. And that has what to do..." Her eyes widened. "Do you think my grandmother jumped there and was captured by a member of the von Eisenfels family? That would explain why there are no clues about her abduction or a struggle at her hiding place! Because nobody was there. She left... and never made it back."

"I concur."

Mayla's brain raced. "She jumped to that hidden world-fold for a closer look. Since she didn't come back, she must have been caught by someone who didn't approve of her being there. Does Vincent have any living relatives?"

"That's to be assumed. He's in his early fifties, so his parents could still very well be alive."

"Hm... not much is known about the family. All records were destroyed, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"So it is unclear whether he has any siblings or how many we should expect."

"It's also conceivable that the hunters hang out in the fold. He was recruiting followers even back then, before he murdered your parents and the other members of the founding families."

"Can the hunters also enchant metal more easily than the rest of us witches?"

"Only if Vincent has formed his own coven against the permission of the four head witches and initiated the hunters with an appropriate ceremony."

"A coven of their own?" Was her grandmother in the hands of this Metal Circle? What would they do to her to get Vincent freed? Mayla jumped resolutely to her feet. "If my grandma is being held captive there, we must go and free her immediately! Can we do that even though it's only the two of us? Or should we take reinforcements? We could inform Angelika and Artus about it, as well as the Inner Circle — besides, even if we go alone, it's important we tell somebody in case something happens to us, too."

"Don't forget about traitors. Marianna Lauber wasn't the only one at Donnersberg Castle."

Mayla clenched her hands. "Darn it. Where the heck is Georg? This is the perfect opportunity for him to show us that most of the police are good and on the right side."

Tom stifled a comment. "Let's go to the castle for dinner and talk to Artus when a moment presents itself. He's the only one we should confide in."

"But Georg..."

"Think about what happened at your grandmother's house." He looked at her steadily. "Mayla, face it. We must assume he betrayed us."

"I don't believe he did."

"So why didn't he warn us? Surely, he must have heard the policemen jumping behind the curtains — if they weren’t already there!"

"He told them to stop and they didn't listen. Maybe... You know, I trust my instincts, which tell me Georg didn't set us up."

"Okay, but I still don't see why he didn't hear them when they arrived?"

"I didn't hear it either. The owl was hooting loudly — it must have drowned out the sound. I'm going to jump back to our meeting place. Maybe by now he's been there and left me a message."

"If you insist. But I'm coming along."

"Are you even able to jump yet?"

Tom looked at his hands. "It has to work."

"Maybe it would be more sensible if I used my amulet key. That way you can rest for a while longer."

"Don't make me out to be weaker than I am."

"That was not my intention. I just don't fancy you collapsing along the way or jumping to Timbuktu because of a lack of concentration — then I'd have to stop looking for my grandma and search all the folds of the world for you!"

He laughed softly. "If you insist, Miss von Flammenstein."

His laughter made her happy. "Take my hand."

Without taking his eyes off her, he walked up and put his hand in hers. "Like this?"

Under his gaze, her stomach churned wildly and her cheeks grew hot. "A bit tighter."

He took that one last step to overcome the distance between them, stood very close to her, and wrapped his arm around her. Slowly, he bent his head and stopped short of her lips. "Like this?"

Her body trembled. Staring at his lips, she lifted her chin and waited. Would he make the final move?

As if time had stopped, he bowed his head and placed his hand on her cheek, his lips touching hers. The feeling was wilder than she had expected. The kiss ignited a fire inside her that blazed violently and burned within her chest. She pressed her body against his and he responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her more passionately, more insistently. It was so much better than it had been with Henning. This was pure, it was real, and Mayla finally knew how Tom felt about her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

When he released her, it was no less abrupt than it usually was when he pushed her away or left her alone. Yet the kiss left a promise, a foreshadowing, a certainty that tingled on her lips. And that was enough for her. For now. Tom was preoccupied — something was bothering him, and that was why he kept his distance. But it obviously had nothing to do with her personally.

He lifted his gaze so he could look past her easily, then turned his head as if checking that they had everything they needed. With a wave of his hand, the books floated into the hut, the awning turned back into an old cloth, and the table and benches transformed into logs that flew leisurely to the cabin. "Up here, we get thunderstorms almost daily. We shouldn't leave anything outside." He was letting his guard down, performing magic in front of her without his wand — and it seemed he didn’t even notice.

Mayla's heart beat faster as the certainty of her discovery caused a rush of joy. She had found him. He was the heir. Andrew Steven Montgomery had become Tom Carlos. From the beginning, she had felt that the name didn't do him justice, that it was too short, too insignificant. At last, she knew the truth.

"Good to know." She waited until he looked at her again and held out her hand to him before he could say anything else that might send a wall up between them, between that wonderful kiss and this moment. "Come on, let's get going."

He seemed calm as he took her left hand, though she sensed his excitement. He’d been shaken up, at least as much as she was. Was it only the kiss or was it that as he’d picked up his wand and casually slipped it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, it dawned on him that he had performed spells in front of her without his wand? She had no idea. However, after that moment just now, she was absolutely certain that the day would come when he'd tell her his secret. One day he would be ready and she was willing to wait. A few days at least. Then she would find out what he had been up to and why he had left the Aguilera family — and perhaps the reason why he kept her at arm’s length. In the meantime, she enjoyed the confidence and certainty spreading through her heart that he felt the same about her as she did about him.

Chapter Thirteen

As they landed on the cliffs overlooking the Rhineland, an icy wind swept over the rocks, stinging Mayla's eyes. She blinked the tears away and looked around. Tom leaned against a trunk with his arms folded and waited while she wandered through the forest.

"If need be, I'll hide among the pine trees," Georg had said jokingly to her just two days before, but no matter how thoroughly she searched, she didn’t discover any traces of him anywhere.

"This isn't right. Maybe something happened to him?"

"What could have happened to that cop? He betrayed us and now he doesn't dare come here."

"I don't believe it!"

"Did you find a note from him or some other message?"

She shook her head sadly.

He pushed off the trunk and came toward her. "Then let's not waste time. We make easy targets. I'm certain he has told his colleagues about our hideout. We are no longer safe here. Come, let's go to the castle and see what's going on."

She agreed out of necessity even though she was convinced Georg hadn’t betrayed her! It was simply out of the question. But for the life of her, she couldn't think of any other place he would have left her a message. There were more important things to do now than to wait there racking her brains.

Tom held out his hand to her invitingly and they clung to each other in an almost intimate way. But he only glanced down at her briefly and then looked over her, as if he was afraid he'd weaken again. As she clutched the amulet key, she thought, "Perduce nos in arcem."

In the blink of an eye, they landed in the reception hall of the venerable castle. It felt a little like coming home. Immediately, they heard firm footfalls approaching from the hall. Hopefully it was Violett Piers. How wonderful it would have been to finally run into the witch with her red hair and jingling bangles. She grinned as she remembered the lessons the friend had taught her.

But it was not the impulsive Violett who stepped through the arched doorway but Artus von Donnersberg.

"Tom? Mayla? Where did you two come from? I thought you had a life- injury, Tom, and were unable to move. Did my wife wildly exaggerate wildly again?"

Mayla smile. "No, she didn't."

Tom waved his hand dismissively. "It wasn't that bad."

She refrained from reminding him that he could only jump from one world-fold to the next with her help. But she knew him well enough to know he was extremely private and no one needed to know that he was not in full possession of his powers. As the last living Montgomery, he must have implemented the practice early on as a precaution, especially when he had run away from the Aguileras at the age of fifteen. She wondered when he would finally tell her his story. Why had he run away to never return?

"Come, tell me what happened." Von Donnersberg led them into the castle hall, which was deserted, even though it was early evening. The round table was small and seated six people at most. No one had settled into the armchairs in front of the fireplace or by the window and there were no voices breaking the tranquility of the old building.

Puzzled, Mayla glanced around. "Where is everyone?"

"Things have changed here." The lord of the castle approached the table, settled into his magnificent seat, and gestured welcomingly to the other chairs. "Please, sit." With these words, the table grew slightly longer.

Mayla sat next to Tom, slipped her bag onto the tiled floor, and crossed her legs. "Where are the Inner Circle members? Why is it so empty in here?"

Von Donnersberg turned to Tom, frowning. "Didn't you tell her?"

She looked questioningly at the two men. "Tell me what?"

Von Donnersberg pointed to his hall. "Since you exposed Marianna Lauber as a spy, my wife and I decided to withdraw our offer to use our castle as a permanent residence to members of the opposition. There could be more traitors. If this hall is open to everyone at all hours, anyone could eavesdrop on all the different conversations, making it impossible to figure out who is spying on us."

Mayla nodded in understanding. "Marianna wasn't much of a conversationalist, but since everyone was always here, even in their spare time, she was able to follow conversations without being noticed."

Von Donnersberg nodded.

"He even dismissed my cooks."

Mayla glanced over her shoulder and saw Angelika von Donnersberg entering the great hall, staring reproachfully at her husband. As always, she was carefully dressed, the hem of her robe barely touching the stone floor and her hair tied into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck.

Graceful as a queen, she moved toward them and settled next to Mayla. "I am glad you are here. How are you?" She looked Tom over and her penetrating gaze immediately revealed that he was not yet fit enough to jump through the world.

But Tom was not impressed by her maternal perspicacity. "It's all right. I understand you helped Mayla prepare the healing potion. I thank you."

She merely nodded and a deep vertical wrinkle formed on the bridge of her nose. "You look thin. Good thing I cooked plenty."

Mayla raised her brows. "You cook?"

"I haven’t had the choice since my husband fired the entire staff. As if my hardworking kitchen ladies were traitors." Obviously, she considered it a personal affront that her husband suspected her staff of eavesdropping on conversations. Meanwhile, she waved her wand and a large casserole dish of lasagna and a glass bowl full of salad appeared on the table. Then, Angelika conjured four plates and some cutlery. After another flick of her wand, the lasagna cut itself and a piece floated onto each of the plates, which then landed on the table in front of them. They were large portions, barely manageable. And on top of that, she summoned a small bowl for each of them, which the serving spoons then filled to the brim with crunchy salad.

Von Donnersberg looked at his wife, who slipped her wand into her sleeve, shook out the napkin, and draped it over her lap. "We can't take any chances in these times."

She glared at him belligerently, though she refrained from starting a fight in front of the others. But, judging by their expressions, the last word was far from spoken.

Mayla kept her eyes on the food, which smelled temptingly of feta cheese and tomatoes. What a feast this was, after all that bland gruel!

Tom was not impressed by the tense atmosphere. He glanced over his shoulder and surveyed the room. "It's only us, right?"

Von Donnersberg put down his napkin. "Yes, no one but the four of us are here. As soon as someone jumps here, I see it. I've placed a protective spell over the castle. You can speak freely."

Tom propped his arms on the table beside his plate. "We came across something that might explain Melinda's disappearance."

Angelika's mouth dropped open and she lowered her knife and fork. "Ah, finally! Clue me in."

"We discovered a note in one of her books. Melinda was looking for the von Eisenfels."

Von Donnersberg pricked a piece of cheese with his fork. "We know that. Go on."

Mayla looked back and forth between the two of them. "Apparently, she discovered a world-fold where the family has been hiding — or at least their followers."

Angelika turned pale. "Where?"

Tom peered over his shoulder again, but there was no one else in the room. "In southern England. The book was about a researcher, Wendy Shepherd, who went there some fifteen years ago in search of hidden world-folds. Apparently, she became aware of the area because of a lightning-like manifestation. But when she tried to open the world-fold, she was strangled by her own necklace."

Von Donnersberg calmly got a bite-sized portion of lasagna onto his fork. "That could be the von Eisenfels, since they control metal like we control fire, which is why they've been so adamant for centuries about creating a fifth circle, the Metal Circle."

"My grandmother noted that in the margin."

Angelika held her hand in front of her mouth. "Good grief. I guess that means Vincent still has living relatives."

"Either that or hunters are in the fold and ambushed my grandma."

"You think she jumped there to investigate that possible fold?" Artus asked.

Mayla nodded.

"Why do you think hunters are there? Surely, the murder of the researcher points rather to members of the von Eisenfels family — it was caused by metal."

Tom leaned forward as if he still feared others might overhear them. "Or Vincent founded his own coven years ago and passed on his power over metal to the members."

Angelika gasped, unable to eat another bite, but her husband oh-so-slowly cut up his lasagna. "It would explain their unity and strength. But many of the hunters still wear their signet rings, which identify them as members of other circles."

Tom nodded. "I've thought about that too. Maybe they've merged with another symbol so they can still appear to be members of their covens to listen in on others."

Mayla fished out the box of chocolates Tom had given her a few days ago and held it under Angelika's pale nose, but the castle mistress shook her head. Mayla chose a vanilla truffle and placed it on the plate for dessert before enthusiastically devouring dinner while Tom and von Donnersberg discussed the likelihood that there might be a fifth forbidden coven.

"You believe Vincent started this coven before he was captured by Melinda, Tom?"

"It would explain so many things."

"How could he have managed that? Knowledge is only passed on within the founding families to prevent such an affront."

"Maybe he came across some old records. Maybe someone wrote down something — a member of the founding families or even one of his ancestors. That family has always been trouble. Who knows, maybe they tried several times before but only recently succeeded."

Von Donnersberg took a bite, chewed for a long time, and finally swallowed. "It would be a plausible explanation — even if it doesn't exactly strengthen our position."

"An independent circle..." Angelika looked at her husband, suddenly looking much older. "If Melinda is in their hands..."

"I know. We absolutely have to get her out of there."

"As soon as possible, otherwise... She's my best friend!"

"Angelika, we will manage. Step by step. Now, please eat something."

His wife heaved a sigh and, lost in thought, poked at her salad.

Mayla had long since finished her meal and turned her attention to the chocolate. "If my grandma was there to investigate the fold, maybe she didn't get caught outside the fold."

Tom whirled around to face her. He hadn't eaten a bite yet. "What do you mean?"

"If my grandma is as powerful as you claim, she must have been able to open the fold. So when she was taking a good look at everything within the fold, she was... discovered or even ambushed."

"I too believe that's much more likely," von Donnersberg remarked.

"If only we had some idea how big the fold is and how many hunters are hiding in it." Mayla glanced around the room. "Is there any way to find out?"

Von Donnersberg dabbed his lips with his napkin. "There are scientists who specialize in calculating hidden world-folds."

"You can calculate their size?"

Von Donnersberg pointed at an old globe on a wooden rack standing next to the window. "There are still a few maps that show Earth as it looked about three thousand years ago. It was much bigger then because there weren't as many world-folds. If you compare these old maps with the maps of today, you can calculate how much space a world-fold occupies."

Immediately, her mind began to spin. The calculation of areas... "Could you explain that in layperson’s terms?"

Angelika placed her spoon and fork a bit apart in front of her plate. "Look, Mayla, the spoon is Frankfurt and the fork is supposed to be Wiesbaden. On old world maps, the distance between the two cities is about seventy kilometers. On today's ordinary mortals' maps, it's only thirty. Ergo, in between there must be one or more world-folds, which together are forty kilometers wide. Understand?"

"I think so. Do we have such old maps of southern England?"

"We don't," von Donnersberg replied. "But I know someone who collects them and specializes in calculating hidden world-folds."

Angelika put her hand on her husband's. "We must be able to trust him unconditionally, Artus."

Nodding, von Donnersberg ran a hand through his white whiskers. "Arnold Binder."

Mayla jumped in. "The librarian?"

The castle lords looked at her skeptically. "You know him?"

"Yes."

Tom casually touched her leg and she faltered. He gave her an easy smile, but his expression cautioned her not to reveal too much. Maybe he had a point. She was reluctant to explain why she couldn't disclose the contents of her grandmother's letter. The best thing she could do was change the subject. "When can we talk to Mr. Binder about these calculations?"

"It’s too late now. I'll go see him tomorrow."

"I'll come with you," Angelika spoke up. "I have a few books I should return, and I also want to borrow Antonia Mancini's new work. Her flair for arranging different types of roses is amazing. I want to redo the bed in the corner by the tower and I need inspiration."

The subject of plants – either how to arrange them in a pleasing manner or the healing powers they held – was not of particular interest to Mayla. The knowledge in her grandmother's standard book was enough for her. Memorizing all those spells plus the herbs might take years — as was the case for things of little interest. "What good does knowing the approximate size of the hidden fold do us?"

At last, Tom began to eat. "The more we know before we enter enemy territory the better."

Mayla gleefully let the vanilla truffle melt on her tongue. It renewed her strength and confidence, and she looked around resolutely. "So, tomorrow we'll jump there and enter the fold."

Von Donnersberg looked at her, shaking his head. "Tomorrow is too soon. First, we must learn as much as we can about the fold. And we should observe the hunters. Maybe then we can determine if they actually are a secret fifth circle. The more information we have, the more likely we are to succeed in freeing your grandmother."

Mayla wanted to object because, out of concern for her grandmother, she felt a sense of urgency. Melinda von Flammenstein had been imprisoned for weeks — perhaps even tortured. It was possible that her life was hanging by a thread. They had to hurry! But Angelika beat her to it with a question that threw her completely off track.

"How annoying that your policeman is no longer by your side. He could have been useful. Have you heard anything from him?"

"From Georg? No, not since..."

"Not since he betrayed us," Tom interrupted. His tone conveyed his annoyance.

"Betrayed you?" Angelika chuckled unhappily. "That isn't actually correct."

Bright-eyed, Mayla leaned closer. "What do you mean?"

"Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"He's in jail."

"What?" Mayla jumped up from her chair, sending it to the stone floor with a bang. She waved her hand, thinking of a spell, and it placed itself upright again. "Why?"

"Von Wickert realized Georg was on your side. Well, on… your side, Tom."

"I should have known," he grumbled.

Mayla rubbed her hands on her head. "He didn't betray us. I knew it! That's why he didn't show up at the arranged meeting place. He's been arrested. We’ve got to set him free!"

Tom shook his head. "Set him free? Perhaps it's a ruse to catch us. Believe me, Mayla, you can't trust cops, not even him."

Von Donnersberg gulped down a bite of salad. "I'm certain you’re wrong, Tom. If it was a ruse to catch you, it would be in all the papers and the owls would be hooting it from the fir trees. But that isn’t the case. We only found out about it through our contact at the police department. It appears von Wickert is trying to keep his arrest a secret."

Mayla slapped the table with the flat of her hand. "There you have it. Tom, we have to get him out of there. He's helped us, been on our side the last few weeks, and I believe he's starting to realize the world isn't as black and white as he's believed it to be these past few years."

Angelika looked at her sternly. "That is dangerous."

"My grandma wouldn't want me to hide here and let an innocent man rot in prison. I am the last descendant of the von Flammensteins. It's time I use my powers for something good."

"But you might..." Angelika started to speak again when von Donnersberg laid a hand on his wife's arm.

"Let her be, Angelika. She's right, after all."

Tom folded his arms across his chest. "What prison is he in?"

Mayla raised her hands enthusiastically and her empty salad bowl flew to the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces. She quickly thought 'Refice,' pointed her hand at the broken glass, and the shards reassembled. She could sense Angelika's astonished gaze. Yes, she had made progress. She ignored the unspoken question and turned to Tom. "Are you in?"

"I can't let you go alone."

"Tom, thank you, I..." Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. Then she turned and looked euphorically at Artus and Angelika von Donnersberg, who in turn cast astonished glances at Tom and Mayla. "So, where is Georg being held?"

Chapter Fourteen

Mayla was not able to rush to Georg's aid as quickly as she had hoped. She would have preferred to start that evening after learning of his arrest. Tom, however, was not yet fit enough and they lacked information.

"Tell us everything you know about his arrest and the place where he’s being kept prisoner!" she’d urged Artus von Donnersberg. He and Angelika thoroughly relayed the information they had received from their police informant.

They had arranged to meet two days later in the afternoon. By then, von Donnersberg would have found out how big the hidden world-fold in southern England was and Tom and Mayla would make a plan to break Georg out of prison.

After dinner, Tom and Mayla jumped back to the log cabin in the Pyrenees. After greeting Kitty, along with Karl and his little sister, they went outside. The temperatures were mild. Under Tom's guidance, Mayla conjured up two sofas on the lawn, on which they made themselves comfortable under the stars. The sun had set some time before behind the high rocky peak in the west, and only a pale glimmer of light stretched along the horizon. Above them, thousands of stars twinkled, but Mayla was oblivious of them. "I wish we could set him free right now."

Tom suppressed a grumble, though it was written all over his face. He silently drank a cup of healing potion that would speed up his recovery, glancing at her repeatedly. Between them was a small side table on which Mayla kept a box of chocolates. Out of sheer excitement, she ate almost the entire box. When she noticed, she hesitated and with great effort put the last piece of dark chocolate back in the box. "This one's for you."

Tom chuckled softly. "Uh, go ahead and eat it. Tomorrow, we'll jump to Ulmen City to buy more."

She beamed at him enthusiastically. "That's a fantastic idea." This caring side of him was new but fabulous. Solemnly, she took the chocolate and smelled it. She thought about Georg as the scent of chocolate caressed her senses. "When will we free Georg?"

"You'll have to be patient for a couple more days."

"A couple more days? Who knows what they will do to him in the meantime!"

"We’ll contact Tauber tomorrow."

"The detective?"

"That's right. He's going to scout out the police station where Georg worked."

"Can't we see him tonight...?"

"He's busy tonight."

"All right. So Tauber will scout the station. Does it even have a jail?"

"Only a holding cell. Regular prisons are in their own, specially-created world-folds. But, according to Artus, Georg isn’t being held in any of those official detention centers."

A chilly wind blew. Shivering, she hunched her shoulders and pulled in her legs. Tom pulled his wand from under his leather jacket and with a flick of his wrist, a cozy blanket landed on her, and she pulled it up under her chin. Comfortable now, she stretched her legs out again.

"Thanks. Do you have any idea where they might have taken Georg instead of an official prison?"

"According to Artus, at first, to the police station. I have a hunch he won't be there anymore. It's best if we have Tauber also shadow von Wickert."

"That'll take too long. We could hide in the forest and keep an eye on the police station from there. That way, Tauber can follow that vile von Wickert."

Tom raised his dark brows. "Vile?"

"I'll never forget the way he towed me behind him like a balloon before I knew I was a witch. Back then, you abandoned me."

He laughed softly. "I didn't have a choice. Besides, you were dying to get better acquainted with the police."

She recalled the day Tom had saved her from the hunters and the sobering encounter with the cops in the woods all too well. "That despicable fellow. How could he arrest Georg instead of listening to him? Surely, he's an ally of the von Eisenfels and their new circle."

"I think he’s more of a bitter old policeman who feels unfairly treated by people for some reason and uses his position to get back at the world."

"I believe he's a traitor. Either way, Georg is under his control. Hopefully we'll find out where he's being held tomorrow. He’ll be a great help in freeing my grandmother."

"Oh, I believe we'll do fine without him..."

She gave him an admonishing look, and he smiled.

"... but I’ll do everything I can to free him from prison. However, you have to promise me one thing, Mayla."

"Hmm?"

"When I say 'get out of here,' you'll listen. Understood?"

"Yes, Dad."

He laughed softly. "And to be safe, we'll practice some attack spells. It's about time you learn them."

"I'm more than ready!" She clasped her hands together and stretched them. "Shall we start right away?"

"No more tonight. I'd have to demonstrate them for you and that might needlessly... set back my recovery. Tomorrow morning, however, we'll practice for an hour or two. Tauber is never in his office before ten o'clock."

Disappointed, she lowered her hands. She would have liked to have done everything right away: learn attack spells and free Georg as well as Melinda. Not only was her grandmother in danger — no, now her best friend was, too. Hopefully von Wickert wouldn't do anything to get information about Tom and the outcasts out of him. With luck, he would leave him in peace and Georg would be all right.

She sighed heavily and glanced at Tom. He had been watching her and she felt herself blush under his gaze. A tingling sensation traveled down her neck and tickled her between the shoulder blades. About an hour before, they had exchanged an impulsive kiss... in front of the cabin. Here gaze went automatically to his lips, which spread into a barely visible grin.

A clap of thunder cracked into the night and the moment they heard it, thick raindrops started pelting them as lightning shot through the darkness not far away, illuminating the mountainous landscape.

"A thunderstorm!" Laughing, Mayla jumped up and ran into the cabin, with Tom following close behind. She turned the sofas into cloths and got them to fly to her. The table would weather the rain. Her wet hair was hanging in her face and she brushed it aside with a grin. In the few seconds they had been caught in the rain, her blouse had gotten soaked and even her pants were sticking to her like leggings. A chill traveled down her arms.

"Aren't you going to light a fire before you freeze to death in your wet clothes?"

His comment made her glance up. She blew effortlessly on the logs that were lying in the fireplace, and then the cabin was filled with a flickering glow. She looked back at Tom, who was waiting not two paces from her. The green of his eyes was shining and his gaze pierced her to the core.

Her heart started to beat faster as he took a step toward her and held out his hands. Before he could pull them back again, she grabbed them and overcame the distance still between them. She looked at him as if she were spellbound, watching as he slowly tilted his head and stopped a few millimeters from her lips. Before he could change his mind again, she stood on her tiptoes, put her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his. She felt his hands on her back. He pulled her closer and kissed her with a passion that sent goosebumps down her arms and legs as she sank into the kiss. Tenderly, he placed a hand on the back of her neck. It tickled. He pulled away and looked at her. Then he smiled, more genuinely and openly than Mayla had ever seen him smile before. It almost made her happier than the kiss. Tom's facade had broken down, the wall was collapsing, and he was starting to open up to her.

Without another moment's hesitation, he pressed up against her and kissed her with a passion that sent heat rushing through her body. It was like magic, as if their lips were made only to kiss each other. Without breaking apart, they hurried to the bed. Tom released her clip and stroked her wet hair. Slowly, he unbuttoned her blouse and every time his fingertips touched her bare skin, electrifying currents shot through her. He slid the blouse over her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, and tenderly ran his finger over her skin. He took off his leather jacket and Mayla immediately pushed up his shirt, which he then pulled over his head. Half-naked, they gazed at each other. Then, he kissed her again and pressed her against him as if they were one, as if he finally understood that the two of them belonged together.

∞

The next morning, Mayla was awakened by a high-pitched mew. She stretched and looked around. She was lying in bed, her head resting on Tom's chest. When had they fallen asleep? She couldn't remember. She gazed at him tenderly. He was fast asleep and looked relaxed and happy. Was it because of that wonderful night? Because they had finally found each other?

"Mew, mew."

She laughed. "I'm coming, little Karl."

So as not to wake Tom, she rose quietly and gently, then pulled on her pants and blouse, which had been drying in front of the fireplace. She tiptoed over to the closet where little Karl was crying his lungs out.

"Good morning, little darling. Did you sleep well?" She stroked his tiny head gently. She was overcome by a warm feeling that surged through her chest, making her even happier. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the love she felt for the little cat. Then she tried to convey it to him by thought. Was that the way to do it? He mewed again and pressed his forehead against her finger. "Did you see it, sweetheart? I love you so much. Welcome to the world, sweet little Karl." Then she stroked Kitty's head. She looked spent. "Well, did those two let you get any sleep?"

"She didn't sleep as well as we did."

Grinning, she turned and saw Tom getting out of bed, stretching and yawning. As her gaze wandered over his sinewy body, she thought happily of the previous night.

"Hungry?"

"Not for gruel, that's for sure."

He slipped on his pants and there was a smile on his face that made her infinitely happy.

"I guess I should stock up on supplies to accommodate your tastes."

She went over to him and kissed him. He put his hands on her face devotedly and returned her kiss. She stroked his chest lovingly before he pulled his shirt on.

"When we go shopping for chocolates, we'll pick up a few other groceries. I'm not a great cook, but I'm sure I can make something tastier than gruel. Theoretically, we could go out for breakfast and then go shopping."

"We mustn't get careless. I'm a wanted outcast, which for many people is equivalent to a mass murderer. And don't forget that ever since the event at your grandmother's house, you're also on top of the most wanted list. Besides, we were going to practice attack spells this morning. We have some oatmeal left over from yesterday. We can warm that up." He waved his wand and the pot flew over to them.

She was disappointed that he was still using the wand in front of her instead of his hands and unwilling to talk about his origins. Her grandmother had urged her that as soon as she found the heir, she needed to get him to publicly announce his heritage. But she wanted to give him some more time and not ruin this wonderful morning.

She retrieved the bowl and spoon from the cupboard, said goodbye to little Karl, and joined Tom outside.

"Would you be so kind?" Invitingly, he held the pot of gruel under her nose.

She sighed pathetically. "For the record, I strongly object. This is the last time I'm eating this." However, she couldn't keep the smile off her face as she blew on the gruel, which soon started to steam.

Using the cooking spoon, Tom slapped a far too large portion into the bowl for her and he ate directly from the pot. After they finished everything, Mayla used the Te-Ablue spell to clean the dishes and sent them flying back into the cupboard.

Before they set out, they freshened up. Mayla then ran outside and shook out her washed hair. With her fingers, she combed it out and pinned it up again at the back of her head with the big clip.

"Okay, now I'm ready. Let's do it. Are there attack spells other than the Dirumpe spell that I can use to make something explode?" Standing in a wide-legged stance in front of the hut, she tilted her head to the left, to the right, and to the left again, looking at Tom expectantly.

"Attack spells, like any incantation, primarily require the utmost concentration and imagination. A useful one is the disarm spell. It's simple. You imagine your opponent's wand flying out of their hand while you shout or think, 'Dearmo!' Got it?"

She nodded. Tom gripped his wand tighter as she concentrated. Loudly, she called out, 'Dearmo!' Immediately, Tom's wand flew out of his hand.

"Very good. Again!" He turned for his wand, which was lying on the grass more than fifteen feet away. Would he use his hand to bring it back? But Tom jogged over to fetch it and she sighed inwardly. When would he finally trust her completely?

As he ran back, he was grinning. "See? I'm powerless if you use the disarm spell."

Yeah, right. She refrained from insisting on the truth right at that moment since she didn't want to ruin the amicable atmosphere.

"Ready?"

He nodded.

She stared at the wand and thought, "Dearmo!" But this time the wand remained in his hand. "Why isn't it working?"

"Because I'm making it harder for you. Your opponent is counting on you to use that spell. It's only easy if you encounter a beginner."

"Or an old woman."

Tom shook his head. "Never underestimate old witches. They are far more powerful than you imagine. You've never noticed that the heads of the circles are witches, not wizards?"

"So, when it comes to magic, women are stronger than men?"

"In direct comparison, yes."

"Why is that, considering magic works like a muscle?"

"It does work like a muscle, but witchcraft energy is something primal. I'm sure Angelika could explain it better than I can. Let's keep practicing."

It took a while, but she got increasingly better at disarming him even when he resisted. Once Tom was satisfied with her progress, he suggested she practice a distraction spell next.

"If you can convince your adversary into believing you're there with reinforcements, it will greatly work to your advantage. Either he'll be distracted enough for you to escape or he'll retreat, fearing defeat."

"Wonderful. A distraction spell. What do I have to do?"

"The spell is a bit more complicated. It's not enough to just recite the spell 'Averto.' You also have to visualize how you're planning to distract your opponent. A noise like the sound of footsteps, a shadow, a sense of someone approaching from the side — whatever you can think of can..."

A high-pitched mewling and the plodding of little paws could be heard from the cabin.

"Little Karl? Oh, no, did he fall out of the closet?" Worried, she hurried to the hut to find the newborn cat lying in the closet, halfway under his mommy's belly, asleep. "What...?" She slapped her forehead. "That was a distraction? I thought it was real."

Tom grinned. "The better you know your opponent, the easier you'll know what to use to mislead them."

"I understand."

"Ready?"

She mused. What could she distract him with that he wasn't expecting?

"Try something easy first."

She imagined what heavy footfalls sounded like on grass. Then she thought 'Averto' and pointed her hands at Tom.

He didn't respond. "Have you done anything yet?"

"Nope!" Highly focused, she again imagined heavy footfalls on grass and the feeling that takes over when someone approaches from behind. "Averto," she whispered. Again, Tom did not turn around.

"Did you forget the spell?"

"No, darn it! It's not working."

He chuckled softly. "What did you imagine?"

"Heavy footfalls through the grass, approaching from behind."

"That's too complex to start with. Just imagine heavy footfalls. You can add the grass and direction they're coming from once you've practiced."

She practiced and practiced, but it wasn't working. "Shoot! I'm not getting it. Teach me something else."

"You can't give up so easily!"

"Don't give up so easily? That was my thousandth try!"

"Seventy-third, to be exact."

"You've been counting?"

"Sure!"

"Why? To rub it in how slowly I'm making progress?"

"No, but if your hundredth time is also unsuccessful, then you're worse than Ralf Kautz. He was in my graduating class at witch school and failed every exam."

"Great, thanks a lot!" Furious, she concentrated, pointed her hands at Tom and angrily thought, 'Averto!'

"Great. I heard something." He clapped his hands. "Ha, I knew that would do it."

She frowned. "What would do it?"

"Anger."

She glared at him and he laughed.

"From the beginning, you've accessed your powers easier through anger. I hope this isn't a bad omen that you're going to join forces with the evil side..."

"You just wait." She thought, 'Dearmo,' but he'd been expecting it and quickly conjured a shield in front of him. As she lowered her arms, cursing, his shield dissolved and he pointed the tip of his wand at her. She didn't need to hear the spell he was casting because suddenly, she was lifted off her feet and was flying through the air. "Put me back down right now, you... you bully!"

He laughed. A moment later, she landed in his arms and he gently set her back on her feet. He bent over her and tapped his finger under her chin. "Do you forgive me?"

Her knees weakened, so before his lips landed on hers, she thought 'Averto' and Tom turned, his wand drawn.

"Who...?"

It wasn't until she started laughing that he realized she had cast a spell. He grinned. "Well done. Now you know that one too."

She regarded him with a fiery look. "Practice session finished?"

"Practice session finished." And then he kissed her again until she forgot everything around her.

Chapter Fifteen

At ten o'clock sharp, Mayla and Tom jumped into the world-fold at Lake Constance, where they were to meet the detective, Rupert Tauber, at the little beach café. Like last time, guests were eating breakfast or having a second cup of coffee, enjoying the view of the huge, brilliant blue lake. The waves roared, foamed, and flowed in rhythmic movements onto the sand as a strong wind blew and the sun hung in a cloudless sky.

Mayla strolled beside Tom across the wooden planks of the terrace, staring longingly at the fresh fruit salad and fragrant croissant an elderly lady was enjoying with a satisfied smile. "We should have breakfast here!"

"Too dangerous. Come."

He was back. Taciturn Tom, on the run from everything and everyone. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as they entered the café together. Inconspicuously, they crept to the back where the restrooms were, but this time Mayla was paying attention. She was eager to find out how to get to the detective and his hidden office. Tom took out his wand and thought a spell, which caused a third door to materialize next to the ladies' room. She definitely had to ask him about the wording later.

He opened the door and let her go first. Was the room even smaller than last time? Once again, the space was literally full of smoke that immediately choked her lungs. Coughing, she tried to see through the haze.

The first thing to materialize through the thick smoke was the old-fashioned hat. Then the pale, wrinkled detective and the table he was drumming his scrawny fingers on gradually came into view. A cigar lay in a simple glass ashtray, smoldering incessantly.

"What do you want?" His voice was raspy and his expression was anything but friendly. He eyed Mayla skeptically, but nowhere near as suspiciously as he had the day they'd first met. Apparently, he had known who she was for a long time. Had he been tailing her? Had someone hired him to watch her? An oppressive feeling closed in around her chest, but she didn't let it show. Still ahead of Tom, she settled at the table and looked at the detective fearlessly.

"Our friend Georg Stein has been arrested. He's the chief inspector..."

"I know!" he barked.

"Then you must also know," Tom intervened, sliding into a rickety chair beside her, "that he hasn't been locked up in any ordinary prison."

Unflinchingly, the detective glanced between them without betraying how much he knew about Georg's arrest. "What do you want to know?"

"Where he's being held," Mayla boomed excitedly, "and how he's being guarded!"

"That's going to cost a pretty penny..."

Sure, the detective had to be paid. She rummaged in her purse for her wallet. How much for a stakeout in the witch world? Tom, however, put his hand emphatically on her leather purse to prevent her from counting her remaining bills in front of the detective.

"One hundred talers for telling us where he's being held and how many people are guarding him! Also, I want you to keep Anton von Wickert under surveillance. He arrested him."

The detective picked up the cigar, took two long drags, and exhaled thick curls of smoke into the air that immediately blended into the haze. "A chief inspector who's been arrested and tail another police officer?" Again, he puffed on his cigar. "Five hundred talers!"

"Two hundred!"

"Four hundred fifty!"

"Three hundred, and for that you'll get us the information by this afternoon!"

The detective eyed her critically before his fist thundered on the table. "Deal!"

"See you at five!" Tom rose, and Mayla followed.

Her heart was pounding excitedly as they weaved through the tables past the guests and along the beach. She wondered where Georg was being held. Were his colleagues treating him well? Or were they being especially hard on him because he had been one of them, causing him unspeakable pain?

Tom could read the worry on her face. "He will track him down."

"I hope he's all right. We need to get him out as soon as possible."

"We will, trust me. In the meantime, we'll keep an eye on the police station. Or do we have to get you some chocolates first?"

At last, they reached the sand dunes, which offered some privacy. Mayla stopped, panting, and braced her stinging side with one hand. "Yes, please! It will help me concentrate better."

"The lady's wish is my command. So, let's jump to Ulmen City first. Are you ready?"

"Sure. More than ready." Finally, she would get a taste of city life again — even if there were no buses driving around or cars honking in the all-witch town, at least there was something happening. "First, I'd like to know the spell that will get me to the detective."

"The spell?"

"Well, you had to recite something to make Tauber's office door visible."

He hesitated. Why was he hesitating?

"I need to know in case you..." she continued, but he interrupted her.

"You have to promise not to tell the cop. Do I have your word?"

"I promise. So? Do I also use the Aperi spell like I did with the cryptography?"

"That spell isn't enough. His office is doubly protected so that only those he knows show up at his place. You have to imagine the door and think 'Aperi grapheum Taubi.'"

She tapped her temple with her finger. "I'll remember that. Now, are we going to jump to the front of the library in Ulmen City?"

Tom shook his head and looked at her intently. "No, never jump to the same place in a city or you'll attract attention. At the very least, shopkeepers will remember your face and know you have an amulet key. And that little fact should be known by as few people as possible. You have to show up somewhere else every time, remember that. Did you bring sunglasses?"

"Sure!" She pulled them out of her bag and put them on her nose.

Tom pulled a pair of large aviator sunglasses from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. "I need you to be absolutely inconspicuous. Talk as little as possible and avoid all unnecessary eye contact."

"But I'm wearing opaque sunglasses!"

"Even more than humans, witches sense whether they are being looked at or not. We do not want to be recognized."

"Most likely, nobody will recognize me anyway. It's not like anyone knows me!"

"If only you knew."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Meaning that ever since that wonderful article appeared in the paper, everyone wants to know who the confused witch is that the infamous renegade Tom Carlos bewitched and dragged to the dark side against her will."

She laughed. "That sounds wicked."

"What I mean by that is that there are countless newspaper articles and even sketches of you that have been posted, and not only in police stations."

"Of me? If they're as bad as the ones the cops have, we have nothing to worry about."

"The ones I'm talking about are better. Much better. They look like photographs."

Mayla paled. Tom put a hand on her shoulder.

"We'll jump to a little cobbler's shop. It's down a side alley not far from the confectionery. It'll take less than fifteen minutes and then we'll jump straight into the woods by the Frankfurt police station. Got it?"

She nodded. Her heart beat faster. Would witches and roaming cops actually recognize her that easily? Darn. She'd been looking forward to the trip to the city and now her pulse was racing with excitement. But she wouldn't let the news spoil the trip for her. She straightened up and looked at him steadily. "What's cobbler in Latin?"

"Sutor. Since you've never been there, it's best that you jump with me. Take my hand."

She took it, and a tingle traveled up her arm as he squeezed her hand tightly. A moment later, her feet came off the ground. The blue of the sky and the lake vanished, replaced by the red of brick houses and the bright yellow of sandstone buildings illuminated by the mid-morning sun.

They landed on cobblestones in front of a small store with a window displaying shiny leather boots in various sizes and "Kowalski Cobblery" written in Gothic font along the top.

Tom walked up to the narrow store door and put his hand on the iron knob, which was shaped like a hiking boot. "I need grease for black smooth leather. Wait here for a minute."

No way. He couldn't shake her off that easily. It was exciting to learn about witches and their stores. Waiting outside the shop window on the street like a faithful dachshund wasn't for her. "I'm coming in with you!"

The store bell jingled as they entered the narrow space, which was dominated by a wide sales counter. The walls were lined with shelves of shoe care products and racks of laces in every possible color. Chic heels, elegant ankle boots, and sturdy hiking shoes were displayed on a large wall shelf alongside work boots and stylish men's shoes. The intense smell of leather, rubber, and glue hung heavy in the air, giving Mayla a dull headache. Maybe she should have waited outside after all.

"I'll be right there," a woman's voice rang out from one of the rooms in the back, which, judging by the sounds, was the workshop. A moment later, a tall woman sashayed behind the counter, a green apron tied around her slender waist and a cobbler's hammer in her left hand. Her arms were muscular from hard work.

"What can I do for you?" She spoke in a strong dialect, probably Rhoen.

Mayla regarded her curiously and the cobbler stared back at her openly before Mayla pointed to Tom and began inspecting the handmade boots.

Tom was standing in front of a mid-sized shelf, searching for the right jar. "I need grease for black smooth leather boots. Do you have any?"

She stepped up beside him and the smell of glue and leather drifted past Mayla. "I recommend this one. It's a little more expensive, but all you have to use is the Ungue spell and your shoes will be shining like new."

Ungue spell? Mayla recalled all the Latin words she had learned so far until it came to her. It meant 'rub in.'

Tom raised his hands in protest. "I take care of my shoes the old-fashioned way, no magic. I need old-style leather grease with Vaseline."

The cobbler raised her blonde eyebrows and eyed Tom with a mixture of approval and disbelief. "Hardly anyone does that anymore." She reached past him to the shelf and pulled out a shiny silver can. "I recommend this shoe polish."

Tom opened the container, smelled the grease, and then felt it. He nodded. "I'll take it."

They checked out at the counter where the cobbler tapped the amount into the ancient cash register, which rattled loudly as she pressed the bar.

"There aren't many who take care of their shoes without witchcraft. Are you in the trade?"

"No." Tom's expression was as inscrutable as ever. He paid and grabbed the container. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Mayla called to the cobbler, who watched them with interest as Tom pushed her outside. "You are always so rude."

"It's for our protection. It's better if she doesn't remember we were in her store half an hour from now. Come on, the confectionery is up ahead."

"Well, I remember rude men who only give humdrum answers to my questions for days! You should reconsider your tactics."

Without replying, he peered over his shoulder. When he was sure no one was watching them, he pushed her along the alley.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to talk about all sorts of things." She laughed and the corners of his mouth finally twitched.

They walked along the alley, which very little sunlight had managed to enter. The cold seemed to spread from the stones of the houses to them. Shivering, Mayla hunched her shoulders. She should have put on her cropped jacket. When they finally exited the dark alley and turned onto the busy main street, the sun shone on their faces. Mayla deeply inhaled the fresh, warm air. There was no traffic, at least in the sense that she was accustomed to — no cars, buses, or bicycles roared past them, but masses of people pushed their way through the streets, taking advantage of the morning to run their errands. It reminded her a little of Berger Street on a Saturday morning except there were cars.

Mayla was about to march happily among the townsfolk when Tom held her back by the arm. "Wait." He pointed to a group of young men clustered around a fountain that was at the center of the marketplace. "I bet those are hunters."

"Hunters?" Her pulse quickened as she tried to check out the five as unobtrusively as possible. They were in their mid-twenties, eating sandwiches out of bags, and cracking up at a joke one of them had made. Passersby didn't even seem to notice them. In the marketplace in Frankfurt, the atmosphere had been quite different when the hunters had appeared. People had given them a wide berth, many even abandoning their purchases to avoid getting in their way.

"Are you sure, Tom? They seem fairly harmless."

"I'm sure. Now listen to me. You must not look at them again."

Great, telling her not to look at them made her want to even more. But she pulled herself together and averted her eyes. "Why didn't we just go to Frankfurt and to a confectionery outside the fold?"

"Because then the hunters would have noticed us right away. They'd have seen our magic and we'd have been in trouble faster than you could imagine. So, keep your head down, Mayla! And don't look at them."

"Then how will I know if they've noticed us and are on our tail?"

"If you look at them again, they will sense your gaze. Believe me!"

Anxious, she stared at her hands. "Great, what am I supposed to look at now?"

"Look at me or down the street. At the confectionery over there. You know the spell to get back to the cabin. Keep the amulet handy so nothing happens to you."

"Darn those hunters. Do they always have to be everywhere?" As unobtrusively as possible, she marched after Tom, who walked down the street with seemingly casual gait. Talk about a disappointing shopping spree. No strolling through the streets and succumbing to the charm of a witch town. "Is there any place they don't loiter?"

"Fewer and fewer. Look, up ahead is the confectionery."

Cautiously, she raised her eyes. Don't look left, don't look left! She followed Tom's index finger with her eyes and spotted a store with a wide front. The two display windows on either side of the front door boasted countless gleaming silver trays and white ceramic bowls. Her eyes widened when she spotted the rich selection of chocolates and she quickened her steps.

"How delicious!" She reached the store before Tom did and stood there with her hands and nose pressed against the window. Small chocolates, large ones, some with light chocolate, and some with dark. She saw pistachio pieces and almond slivers, coconut shavings, and raspberry icing. Wonderful! How much money did she have with her?

Tom chuckled softly, which snapped her out of her trance. She rushed into the store and inhaled deeply. The scent of chocolate was incomparable, heavenly, elating, and vibrant. With a blissful smile on her face, her eyes wandered over the display from one variety to the next.

Immediately, a rotund gentleman in confectioner's garb, with a slanted white hat on his head and a tray in his hand, approached. "May I entice you with my latest creation? Cream truffles with a hazelnut center coated in white chocolate."

"You may!"

He waved his wand and one of the delicacies floated toward her. She enthusiastically took the chocolate and held it under her nose. She closed her eyes happily and inhaled deeply. She smelled hazelnut inside, and white chocolate. But there was something else. "Did you add nutmeg?"

The pastry chef's eyes lit up as if he recognized a kindred spirit. He put a finger to his lips and winked at her. "Don't tell anyone, it's my secret ingredient."

"My lips are sealed." With due solemnity, she popped the candy into her mouth and closed her eyes. The chocolate melted on her tongue and a comfortable, carefree feeling overcame her. "Wonderful! A fantastic creation! You have to box up a few of those for me. Do you also have rum chocolates?"

The confectioner guided her through his store and she ended up with four individual packages. Tom kept looking outside and his impatience grew with each additional chocolate Mayla tasted. She refused to be rushed. This was her time. The moment she had been longing for since the night before.

"We should get going," he urged her again.

"Oh, what a pity." The confectioner clasped her hands. "I hope you will honor us again soon, Mrs...."

Mayla took in a breath, ready to reply, when Tom intervened. "Of course she'll be back, but now we've got to be going or we'll be late for an appointment. Are you coming?"

"I'll be back as soon as I run out — which won't be until next month." She winked and beamed at the rotund pastry chef, who twirled his mustache, blushing. Solemnly, he handed her the four boxes and escorted her to the door, bowing and paying her compliments.

"It was an extraordinary pleasure."

"The pleasure was all mine!" Once outside, she happily waved goodbye to him while balancing the four boxes on her arm. Tom tried to take them from her, but she declined. "I'm not handing these over to anyone anytime soon."

"If we come under attack, a box or two could easily fly up into the air."

The comment had its intended effect. Immediately, she pressed two packages into his hand and hugged the other two to her chest. Eyes shining, she thought of her spoils and without quite realizing it, let Tom pull her past a flower store and barber store into an alley. As soon as they turned the corner, he grabbed her hand and they jumped.

Chapter Sixteen

Holding Tom's hand, Mayla jumped into the woods not far away from the police station where Georg worked — had worked, rather, because it was questionable that he would retain his job after escaping. As soon as they broke him out of jail, he too would be on the run, just like Tom.

"Maybe he won't like us breaking the law to free him from the clutches of his colleagues. Mr. By-the-Book will never tolerate life as a fugitive."

She shook her head decisively. "He has been wrongfully imprisoned. Of course he wants to escape!"

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"I know him."

"Isn't it more likely that you need him by your side so badly, you aren't even thinking about what he wishes?"

"Tom, I'm absolutely certain Georg did not betray us. The police already suspected that he was on our side. Otherwise, they wouldn't have shown up at my grandma's hideout. We can't leave him to the wolves. He would do the same for us. Now be quiet or they'll discover us."

They positioned themselves behind some shrubs. Tom pointed his wand at the sparsely covered branches. 'Cresce!' In the next moment, new shoots grew from the branches, forming large leaves so nobody could see through into their hiding place.

Mayla attended to the first box of chocolates while they kept an eye on the entrance of the police station. It was late morning, so the majority of policemen had long since arrived and were busy performing their duties. Hardly anyone entered or exited the station.

"Oh my, so delicious! The confectioner knows his stuff. You must try these."

"Shh. There are many who come to the forest to gather herbs. We should only talk when necessary."

"Sure, you'd like that." She turned her attention to the next nibble. Just then, a woman whistling to herself emerged from the alley that led to Bertha's hotel and started heading straight for them. Mayla ducked her head and pressed the chocolate boxes to her chest while Tom crouched quietly beside her. But the woman did not approach the woods and instead marched into the police station.

"Oh, a visitor. Makes me wonder why she's going to the police."

Tom peered through the shrubbery, keeping his eyes on the main entrance. "I doubt it has anything to do with Georg."

"Do you think the detective is already tailing von Wickert? Perhaps he already knows where they're holding Georg?"

"We'll find out this afternoon. Look." He pointed to the police station's small side door, which exited into a narrow alley. A small shadow appeared.

Mayla narrowed her eyes, but couldn't see who was sneaking out. "Is that von Wickert?"

"Judging from the height, it could be him, but he isn't the only short police officer. I didn't see the face."

"We could follow him."

"No, Tauber will tail von Wickert while we watch the station. Everyone has to stay at their post. Otherwise, surveillance doesn't work."

That made sense. She popped a sweet filled with whipped chocolate into her mouth. "That's true. I'm merely questioning if it's wise to be here with all the bugs and ants crawling over our shoes."

"We're observing. Believe me, patience is a virtue."

"There's no proof of that!"

"Look, the woman is coming back out and she seems pleased. She's probably filed a police report or ratted someone out."

"Why do you think so badly of people?"

"What other reason could there be?"

"Maybe someone was reported missing and she had information. She does look pleased with the world, like she was able to help someone."

"You're too gullible, Mayla. You have to be suspicious of everyone."

"Even you, huh?" She laughed, but Tom gave her a serious look. His eyes closed and suddenly all the familiarity from their interactions was gone.

"You must never trust me!" He said this emphatically, as if he had to remind himself.

Mayla's heart skipped a beat. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Shh. Over there." He pointed at three policemen who were exiting the station and marching straight toward the diner where she and Georg had eaten dinner the night she'd learned she was a witch. "Lunch time. It'll be quieter now."

"Now we can talk calmly about what you meant by that."

"No, watch. It's going to get interesting now."

"But everyone left for lunch..."

"Making it easy for someone who doesn't want to be discovered."

"Nothing is happening. So, why shouldn't I trust you, Tom? What's going on?"

"Shh, we don't want to be discovered." He said it in a way that left no room for discussion and his gaze was sealed off — this said more than his words.

Maybe he needed some peace and quiet to think about everything. The closeness they had experienced was probably unfamiliar to him and he needed to collect himself.

She watched him more than the station until a movement in the small alley caught her attention. Two hooded figures were creeping along the narrow street. They kept peering over their shoulders. Sensing they were unobserved, they quickly entered the station through the side door.

"Who are they?"

"I'd bet your chocolates they're hunters."

She clutched the boxes to her chest protectively. "What would they want at the police station?"

"What do you think?"

She shrugged. "Are they going through records?"

"No, there are always a few cops at the police station."

"So someone is expecting them..."

Tom nodded slowly. "We have to assume so. The big question is who."

They glanced at the building, but they were too far away to see what was going on inside.

"We need to get closer. Maybe they'll talk about where Georg is being held."

Tom shook his head. "Too dangerous."

"Oh, come on, there's always danger involved in a rescue mission."

"We're staying put so we can see who comes and goes. That way we can narrow down the suspects. Soon, we'll figure out who might have been talking to the hooded men, which makes it likely they're on the von Eisenfels' side."

"Surely it would be useful to eavesdrop on them. Isn't there a spell we can use to listen to what's being said inside the building?"

"Of course there is, but every police station is protected against such magic."

"Makes sense." Shoot.

Nothing happened around the station for a while, so she thought again about what Tom had said. Why did he say again that he wasn't to be trusted? After all, they had kissed and not an innocent peck on the cheek, but... heck, that had not been an ordinary kiss! And then last night — if that didn't mean the ice between them had thawed and the wall he had put up around himself was collapsing, then what did?

She glanced at the hand he had resting on his knee. She could take it or innocently place her hand on his and see how he'd react. Her heart urged her to do it, but at the same time, she knew he wouldn't want that. She sensed it. Though he was crouching beside her as he had an hour before, a thick wall was suddenly standing between them, one that made it impossible for her to approach him.

He was the heir to the Air Circle, that much was certain. What could be so bad about it that he kept her at a distance? Perhaps it was forbidden for different coven members to be together? No, that couldn't be it. Otherwise, Georg would not have courted her so openly. Perhaps it was different when the lovers were members of the founding families. Maybe it was a Romeo and Juliet scenario, similar to the situation with the Capulets and Montagues, with an unspoken feud between the head witches of the Circles — a power struggle.

What would happen if they... stayed together? Would the Air and Fire Circles merge? Would that mean other fire witches could then also control the air element and vice versa? Would the power structure be upset, leading to intense conflicts between all witches and wizards if they were to remain lovers?

Disputes or not, love was the strongest power. Who would come between two lovers? Who would begrudge them happiness?

Many! Especially those whose positions of power were threatened! Completely absorbed by her disturbing thoughts, she stared at the tips of her ankle boots, where there was a black beetle crawling.

Meanwhile, the hooded figures left the station through the side door and quickly disappeared down the alley. A little later, the first policemen returned to the station, whistling.

"Look." Tom pointed to a dark-haired officer who was leaving the station. The only thing that stood out about him were the prominent freckles across the bridge of his nose. "It could have been him."

"Him?" Had she seen him at the police station the night when she'd discovered she was a witch and met Georg? It had been a few weeks ago and she couldn't remember clearly. She only recalled Georg and von Wickert from that evening when she had been dragged — or rather, flown — to the station like a criminal.

Three other police officers left the station.

"They're also suspect," Tom murmured.

"Wait a minute. The one in the middle looks familiar. I think he was there when von Wickert arrested me."

Tom eyed the lanky man, who had a face like a hundred others. He nodded slowly. "That may be, yes. I think I remember him too. Do you know his name?"

"No, but as soon as we free Georg, we'll know. He'll remember the men involved."

"We've seen enough for today. Let's jump back to the cabin and in four hours, we'll meet Tauber. I'm curious to see what he's found out."

∞

They spent the late afternoon at Tom's cabin in the mountains. As Mayla had feared, Tom kept his distance. Pretending to look through her grandmother's books again, he retreated to the farthest corner of his hut, where he stayed for several hours without saying a word.

She wasn't in the mood to discuss why he was so withdrawn again. He wouldn't tell her the truth anyway. She ignored him and devoted herself to little Karl, Kitty, and the second kitten, who squeaked and mewed enthusiastically when she petted her. Again, little Karl pressed his little forehead against her fingers as she gently stroked him.

"You sweet little darling. I hope you open your eyes soon so you can start to explore the world."

Little Karl sent a warm feeling that enveloped her. She kissed him gently on his little head and let the three of them rest.

It was hot outside, but she didn't want to impose on Tom. He needed rest and solitude. Whatever was going on with him, he seemed to want to work it out by himself and she would respect that — for now!

She peered through the open door of the hut into the dark corner and saw his silhouette in the shadows, his hand holding a book instead of her.

She forced herself to look away from him and summoned a log. "Converte!" Before her eyes, the firewood transformed into a deck chair that unfolded in the partial shade of the hut. Sighing, she slid onto it. She slipped the ankle boots off, rolled up her sleeves, and leaned back. She needed a distraction. It would be best to eat a chocolate to calm her sad heart.

"Vola!" Her purse flew to her and landed on her stomach. As she pulled out a box, her fingers closed around a piece of paper with a noticeably smooth surface. It was the photo of her and her parents. Smiling, she pulled it out and looked at it. She was no longer part of that family... thankfully, she still had her grandma!

Oh, her grandma. Hopefully, she would hang in there... Hopefully, Artus von Donnersberg and his wife could gather enough information so she could be freed soon.

She almost lost herself staring at the photograph when suddenly, a large, long shadow slid over her. Startled, she put her hand to her heart and raised her eyes. It was Tom. He was standing there in his freshly polished shoes, looking at her expectantly. Had he come to...?

"We should get going. Are you ready?" His voice was rough, dismissive, and cold. Mayla's heart was beating fast and restlessly, as if running from an inevitable rejection.

She cleared her throat to make sure her voice wouldn't crack. "Is it five already?"

"Almost." He spotted the picture in her hands. "What have you got there?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't worry, I won't take it away from you. Who do you think I am?" His expression remained aloof and serious, almost somewhat melancholy.

She was on the verge of finally letting him know that she knew his secret. Maybe she should just tell him. Maybe it would help and he would confide in her. She drew in a breath as Tom spoke, as if he suspected what she wanted to say.

"Get up, we can't miss Tauber. You have everything?"

Sighing, she placed the photograph back in her purse, put on her shoes, and rose from the deckchair. "Yep."

He lowered his head and stared at his shiny shoes. He almost looked uncertain, and she took a step toward him. But before her hand could touch his arm, he replied, "Remember to jump behind the rocks so the guests don't see us arrive. That's safer." And then he was gone.

Mayla took a deep breath. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she immediately held them back. The situation was complicated, but she wasn't going to give up that easily. Closing her eyes, she thought about little Karl. She sent him a hug and he immediately replied with a heartfelt squeal. "See you later, little darling." A bit more composed, she reached for her amulet key and thought, 'Perduce me ad lacum Brigantinum.'

Chapter Seventeen

She landed in soft sand at the foot of the high cliffs, a few paces from Lake Constance. A fierce wind was blowing across the beach, driving large waves onto the sand. It was so cold that Mayla's arms were immediately covered in goosebumps. Her hair flew free from its clip and whipped around her head.

Tom immediately trudged off, nimbly climbing the rocks jutting out of the water to the other side of the cliffs, with Mayla following. Spray hit her face and she squinted as a high wave slapped her legs.

"Darn, couldn't we have jumped behind the dunes?"

"It's safer here. Now let's go."

They rounded the massive rock and reached the stretch of sand where the quaint beach café and Tauber's office were located. Mayla's pants and blouse stuck to her skin, and even her hair was damp. "Please, charm my clothes dry before you run away again?"

"The spell is called 'Aresce.' Memorize it."

That was it. Angrily, she put her hands on her hips. "I don't know what's gotten into you suddenly, but you can still be friendly!"

He turned to her. "I didn't mean it like that..."

"Yeah, right! Don't pretend everything is fine. Something happened, who knows what, but suddenly you're Mr. Unapproachable again. That doesn't work for me!"

"Mayla, that's not what I meant, I..." He ran a hand down the back of his neck. "You have no idea how risky it is for you to be around me. I..."

"What, you? I know who you are. I went to see your foster family. They told me everything. I don't know what happened back then, but for some reason, you believe you're dangerous, so you've put up a wall around yourself to keep anyone from getting too close. So, here's a news flash for you. I'm a tough woman, so whatever your problem is, we can solve it!"

Tom narrowed his eyes and peered at her questioningly. "When did you go...?"

"When you were recuperating from your injuries." She looked at him unflinchingly. "I know who you are."

His eyes widened for a split second before he glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was approaching or eavesdropping. "I told you I'd help you free Georg and your grandma. And I am." Without responding to her claim that she knew who he was, he left her and marched down the beach toward the café.

Agitated, she felt her cheeks and her whole head getting hot. How much more time had to go by before he finally talked openly with her?

"Aresce!" Her clothes billowed in the wind and a second later, they were dry. The wind had ruffled her hair, so she brushed the loose strands behind her ears as she plodded behind Tom.

He stormed up the wide staircase onto the café terrace, past a few patrons, and into the building. Without greeting the bartender, he marched straight back toward the restrooms. A door abruptly appeared next to the ladies' room, which he rushed through without bothering to knock. Was he that upset because she knew who he was? Why?

Like the two times before, the room was filled with haze produced by the detective's tireless smoking. Mayla settled at the table next to Tom and focused on the meeting. That was more important, for now. "What do you have for us?"

Tauber placed the smoking cigar in the ashtray and tapped the table. "Payment first!"

Tom had already dropped a jingling little bag, apparently with the agreed-upon talers inside, onto the table. "Where is he?"

The detective took the coins and calmly counted them. "In the world-fold at the Hauptwache, Frankfurt's historic police station."

Mayla's eyes widened. "There's one there, too?"

Tom leaned forward. "Where exactly?"

"He's being held inside a dilapidated shack near Blue Lake."

They'd stuck Georg in a shack at a lake near the Hauptwache? How many world-folds existed in Frankfurt?

Tom locked eyes with Tauber. "How many police officers are guarding him?"

"Four, rotating every six hours. The next guard change is at six."

"Any additional spells?"

"The Obsurdescite and Motus indica spell."

What?

Unperturbed, Tom continued, "And von Wickert?"

"Keeps showing up and interrogating him."

"Did he talk?"

She watched Tauber as he reached for his cigar and started puffing. "I don't think so, or von Wickert wouldn't be coming back so often."

Tom nodded and rose.

What? That was it? "We still need to know how..."

"We'll talk about the rest outside, Mayla!"

His brusque manner irked her and she had to restrain herself so she didn't throw something at him unceremoniously. Of course, he was experienced and knew more about the world of witches — nevertheless, he had no right to treat her so badly!

Together, they left the detective's office. As soon as they were on the beach out of earshot of the cafe's guests, she bombarded him with questions. "What's the matter with you? Please, let's talk about everything calmly."

"There's no time for that. We must hurry — or do you no longer want to free Georg?"

"Of course I still want to, but..." She took a deep breath. "What are the two spells guarding him?"

"The Obsurdescite spell prevents anything said inside the shack from escaping to the outside."

"So, we can't hear if anyone is with him when we jump there."

"Exactly."

"And the other spell?"

"The Motus indica spell detects the slightest and smallest movement within a set perimeter of the shack."

"Then how do we approach it without being detected?"

"We'll figure something out."

"Couldn't we jump directly inside?"

"No, in all likelihood there is also a spell preventing that, so we'd immediately set off an alarm."

She deliberated feverishly. "Like at my grandma's house. The police put a spell like that on it, too. The only reason we didn't set off an alarm was because Georg informed them that he was going there."

"Exactly. I'm sure they used it on Georg too."

"So how do we get there?"

"We jump as close to the shack as possible and immediately cast a protection spell around us. With any luck, your magic will already be so strong that the Tutare spell will overpower the Motus indica spell."

Mayla's mouth dropped open. "I can do that?"

"Let's hope so."

"But then..."

"Yes?"

She was about to say that he could do it too, but she remained silent so as not to antagonize him further. "Nothing. So, what's the plan?"

"You're not that familiar with that world-fold, right?"

She shook her head.

"So you'll jump with me. As soon as I recite the spell and we lift off the ground, cast the Tutare spell around us so we're immediately protected when we arrive in the fold. Make sure the shield envelops us completely, not only in front. You have to stay focused once we're there. You must imagine the shimmering bluish shield around us at all times. Think you can manage that?"

She narrowed her eyes, determined. "I'm sure I can! What else?"

"When I signal you, dissolve the protection spell for a few seconds so I can take out the guards."

"Take them out? You're not going to...?"

"I'm going to cast a spell that'll knock them out."

"Teach me, I need to be able to do that too."

"Animo linquatur! And remember to imagine it. Without it, no spell will work, no matter how advanced your powers are."

Animo linquatur, animo linquatur, animo linquatur.

"Okay, so you'll take out the guards, then we'll break into the shack, free Georg, and jump — to where? To your hut in the mountains?"

"Correct. As soon as we enter the shack, the alarm will go off at the station. We'll have no more than two minutes before the cops show up. We'll have to hurry without being distracted."

"Reinforcements will arrive that quickly?"

"We'll be fine." He smiled at her almost confidently, but there was still an aloofness in his facial features that diminished the effect.

"When do we leave?"

Tom pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open. "Right away. We have half an hour before the guards rotate. The cops watching the shack should be tired and not as alert as at the beginning of their shift."

"Wouldn't it be wiser to act at night?"

"No. Once it's dark, they'll expect something like this. Besides, we won't be able to see as well."

"I thought witches had the ability to see even in the dark."

"With a spell, yes, but it complicates things unnecessarily. We'll do it now. Are you ready?"

She stuffed the chocolates into her purse, tilted her head left, right, and left again, and stretched her hands. Oh, God, what were they in for? "I'm ready!"

"Then let's free your policeman."

Her policeman? He hadn't said that since they'd first kissed...

This one sentence made it clearer than any other of his gestures or words that things between them had ended before they could truly begin. Her chest felt tight, making it almost impossible for her to take a deep breath. She closed her eyes to avoid looking at him when he abruptly grabbed her hand.

"As soon as I say the Perduce spell, you cast the shield. Are you ready?"

Her voice would have cracked if she'd spoken. Nodding, she raised her arms.

"Let's go!"

Chapter Eighteen

"Perduce nos ad lacum Caeruleum," Tom murmured. Mayla immediately imagined an impenetrable blue shield around them. 'Tutare!' she thought with all her might, squeezing her eyes shut as they lifted off the beach.

His hand clasped hers so tightly that it hurt. Was he really pressing down that hard, or was it just his touch that was causing her pain? She didn't know. Not that it was important — it was irrelevant right then. She had to focus on the magic shield and not be distracted by his strong grip.

The ground they landed on was soft. It was grass, and Mayla's nostrils were filled with the scent of jasmine. No distractions! Her hands trembled as she pictured the shield in her mind and slowly opened her eyes.

They were standing at the edge of a clearing amid tall, ancient oaks with trunks that were so thick, it would have taken five men to encompass one. A few paces away was a large jasmine bush, its star-shaped blossoms gleaming in the early evening sunlight as if this were the most picturesque place on earth and no one could be forcibly held there. They crept up to the shrub and hid behind it.

In the middle of the clearing was an old, dilapidated shed. The door hung askew on its hinges, the shutters were broken and lay discarded on the grass, and the windows had cracks. Cobwebs spanned the window frames, swaying back and forth in the balmy wind. That's where Georg was being detained?

The protective shield flickered.

"Mayla, stay focused," Tom murmured. "I'll take care of the guards."

When she saw a shadow emerge from behind the hut, her pulse quickened. Swiftly, she closed her eyes to maintain the necessary concentration. Only when she saw the shield clearly in her mind again did she dare open her eyes. The guard did not look up but kept walking around the hut.

"He didn't notice us. Good, keep it up, Mayla." He gripped her hand tighter. "Let's sneak a little closer to the shack. I'll lead."

Yeah, sure, great. Her heart began to beat faster when she felt his arm around her waist, gently guiding her closer to the shed. Shoot, she shouldn't let her mind wander, but why was he so withdrawn? Why couldn't they be together? Determinedly, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Stay strong! She had to think of Georg and free him. Who knew what that creep von Wickert was doing to him to make him talk?

"There are two guards ahead, less than two meters from us."

Oh, God. Keep calm, she could do it! She was a strong woman who would free her friend! Cautiously, she peeked past the jasmine bush to watch the policemen who still hadn't noticed them. They shuffled around the shack, yawning. Apparently, Tom had timed it well.

"I'm going to count to three, and then you'll drop the shield for five seconds."

She nodded.

"One, two, three."

She lowered her hands hastily and he silently shot a fainting spell at the first of the two men, who toppled to one side like a felled tree. Immediately, a deafening noise shrieked across the clearing and through the forest. The alarm. The second policeman jumped to the side and spotted them. He drew his wand and Mayla reacted instinctively.

'Animo linquatur!' she thought, imagining the officer collapsing unconscious — which he did instantly.

Thick iron chains snaked around her and Tom from behind. Startled, they turned and saw two more cops running toward them.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" one of them roared, raising his wand to attack.

The chains tightened on their own. Mayla couldn't get them off, but Tom reacted as fast as lightning. Casting a silent spell, he freed himself and immediately sent up a protective shield in front of them. The next malediction from the police officers bounced off it harmlessly. "Quick, free yourself from the chains. As long as we're behind the shield, they can't tighten them."

How the heck was she supposed to accomplish that? They were already too tight. Darn it, she was a witch. There had to be another way. Think! Think! What spell could she use? Finally, something occurred to her. "Converte!" The chains turned into countless spoons that clattered to the ground.

"On the count of three, take them out."

Oh, goodness, two at the same time? Was she able to do that? She had to, there was no other choice.

"You can do it, Mayla. The alarm from the Motus indica spell has long since gone off, as you can hear. In a moment, this place will be swarming with police. Every second counts. One, two, three."

'Animo linquatur!' she thought, and a beam of white-yellow light shot from her fingertips, striking the two guards in the chest, causing them to fall unconscious to the ground.

"Quick, into the shack!"

Mayla ran across the clearing to the rickety door and attempted to push it open, but it wouldn't budge. How could such a battered, old door not spring open with the slightest push?

"It won't open."

"Let me." He pushed her aside and pointed the tip of his wand at the knob. "Aperi!" Still, the door would not budge.

Harried, Mayla glanced over her shoulder. Were the bushes over there moving? Was that a shadow behind the jasmine? Still, no other policeman had appeared.

"Now what're we going to do?"

Even though Tom blocked her view of the door, she saw him point his right hand at the knob and squeeze his eyes shut. Apparently, he recited a spell silently because the lock abruptly popped open. Without a moment's hesitation, they rushed inside.

It was gloomy inside the shack, as if a spell kept the sunlight out and the air damp. Although the room was tiny, they couldn't see Georg anywhere. Mayla took three quick steps into the shack, searching. "Georg?"

"Mayla?" A silhouette emerged in the darkness. Someone was sitting chained to a chair in a corner. And he was coughing.

"Georg!" She rushed to him. It was too dark to get a proper look at him, but he appeared pale and exhausted. His plaid shirt had a long tear in the sleeve and his blue jeans were so dusty they looked gray.

"We came to get you out of here."

"No, you've got to leave. It's too dangerous."

"Nonsense! Tom, the chains."

Tom had already stepped behind the chair and was pointing the tip of his wand at the heavy shackles.

"What's going on?" they heard an officer yell outside.

"We've been ambushed."

"Hurry, they must be here for the prisoner!"

Mayla's heart beat faster than was healthy. "Hurry up, Tom!"

"I'm on it — make sure you cast the protection spell."

'Tutare!' she thought, and a shield formed around them. She turned her back on Georg and Tom to keep an eye on the door. Every now and then, she peered over her shoulder. "What's taking so long?"

"They're magical restraints. I'm almost there."

At last, she heard the chains rattle as they fell to the floor. Georg tried to stand, but he swayed. Tom wrapped an arm around Georg to steady him until he found his balance. How many hours had they had him chained to the chair?

At that moment, the door was thrust open and von Wickert rushed in, followed by three other policemen. All three had their wands raised. Von Wickert recognized Mayla immediately. "So, we meet again, you devil spawn!"

"Devil, yeah, right..."

"Don't let him distract you, Mayla." Tom moved beside her.

A barrage of sparkling beams fired at her shield, which shook upon impact. Von Wickert drew down the corners of his mouth, deepening his wrinkles. "Now you finally show what powers there are lurking within you. I knew you were putting on a show — just like our chief inspector! Since when have you been in cahoots?"

"You're holding me illegally!" Georg insisted. "Hardly anyone knows I'm here, am I right?"

"No one believed me when I warned them that you were up to something and fraternizing with our enemies! I knew I had to make you talk. But that's no longer necessary. Tom Carlos came to free you — that's all the proof I need. Reinforcements will be here soon. So, you traitors, you might as well give up! You don't stand a chance."

Mayla's pulse quickened at this pronouncement. "Come on, Tom!"

Tom took out his protective amulet, but Georg grabbed his wrist.

"It won't work in here — protection spell. We have to get outside."

"Dang it!" She felt the officials' countless maledictions pushing back her shield and gritted her teeth. The magic within her blossomed, shooting through her body like a warm force, giving her the strength to withstand the attacks. "Can't you use a spell to break down the walls?"

"This is a police-secured interrogation room." Von Wickert shifted his weight from one foot to the other so that his wand was closer to her. "No one gets in or out of here with a spell."

Shoot, now what?

"On three, Mayla," Tom whispered in her ear, so softly she wasn't sure he'd actually said it. But then she felt his finger in the small of her back, tapping once, twice, three times. Immediately, she lowered her hands and he shot over her, knocking von Wickert and two officers off their feet. Mayla sent the Animo linquatur spell at the last standing officer, who collapsed like a sack. A malediction shot at them from outside, cast by someone out of sight, grazing Tom's left hand. He pulled it in, shaking it, but he didn't grimace.

"Tutare!" Mayla shouted. "For heaven's sake, this isn't getting us anywhere. Georg, why aren't you helping?"

"They confiscated my wand."

"Then figure out something to get us out of here. Tom and I will keep the cops at bay."

Another malediction shot through the room, but it bounced off Mayla's shield.

Georg placed himself in front of her but was helpless without a wand. "We have to get out of the building."

"Let's go." As Tom pushed Mayla toward the door, a broad shadow created by several policemen fell across it, blocking their way out.

"Stop, in the name of the witchcraft law!" The cops rushed into the room.

Tom could no longer be stopped and pulled Mayla along. She strained to keep up the shield. Georg followed, limping. Tom tapped Mayla on the shoulder again. One, two, three. As soon as the shield dissolved, Tom, with his hand and wand raised, shot at the officers, who cried out and fell to their knees. It was different from the fainting spell. And it was powerful.

"Shield, Mayla!"

She reacted immediately. As soon as the protection shield was back around them, Tom pulled her and Georg past the officers who were curled up on the floor.

The threshold was only two steps away. In a moment they could use the amulet key to jump and escape the policemen. However, Mayla was suddenly incapable of taking another step forward. Something pressed against her shield, forcing her back into the shack.

"What's going on?"

"The building is surrounded!" an energetic female voice rang out from across the clearing, as if through a megaphone. "Put your wands on the ground and your hands up!"

A glance outside confirmed that what she'd said was true. Numerous police officers formed a half-circle around the entrance. They were holding up their wands, creating a collective shield that pushed against Mayla's.

Her hands began to tremble. How long would she be able to keep the shield in place? Sweat was forming on her forehead and her shoulders and arms felt leaden, but she kept her hands raised. She belonged to one of the powerful founding families. She ought to be strong enough! "Is there a plan B?"

Georg put his hands under her arms to support her. The touch gave her energy, as if he were giving her his power through his hands. "Hold on. Push them back. You are a von Flammenstein — which they don't know."

Gritting her teeth, she tensed her muscles, forcing all her power into her hands and the protection spell, but the pressure on her didn't ease up. "Tom..."

He came to her, holding up his hand and wand. He narrowed his eyes as he murmured a spell that added to her protective shield. "Give it your all, Mayla. Together, we can do it."

The pressure on the shield eased and finally she felt the protection expanding. The officers gasped in surprise as they were pushed back by Tom and Mayla's magic. This was the moment they needed to escape. Mayla hurried after Tom as he crossed the threshold in two long strides, with Georg following closely behind. As soon as they exited the shack, Tom grabbed his protective amulet, linked arms with Mayla, and grabbed Georg's arm.

"They have a protective amulet. Quick!" The policemen fired the next malediction as Mayla dropped the shield and finally felt her feet leaving the ground. The brown of the shack and the green of the clearing swirled into a vortex and a malediction from the officer standing next to the jasmine bush chased after them. It wasn't until Mayla saw the spell whiz past them and the man's face blur that she breathed a sigh of relief. They had made it.

Chapter Nineteen

They landed in the meadow in front of the cabin in the Pyrenees. Georg fell to his knees, but he immediately rose again. Concerned, Mayla wrapped her arms around his waist for support. "Are you all right?"

Nodding, he straightened up. "I'm no longer used to landing while in motion."

She took a step back, tilted her head, and looked at his face with concern. He had lost weight and was pale. "Did you get any food at all?"

"Some," he grumbled, not looking her in the eye.

"I'm sorry we only have prison fare to offer you too, but you can eat as much as you like," said Mayla, who would have been all too happy to give him her portion of gruel. "Did they keep you in that dark shack all this time?"

He shrugged and laughed to downplay his miserable condition. "They did. But it was not all that bad."

"Not all that bad?" Aghast, she put her hands on her hips. "Your own people tortured you!"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "It wasn't so horrible, believe me. Von Wickert tried to get me to talk."

Tom leaned against the wall with his arms over his chest and one leg crossed over the other. "So, what did you tell him?"

Georg puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. "So, you're still around."

"I'm aware you cops are a cranky bunch, but am I supposed to believe that is a thank you..."

Impatiently, Mayla raised her arms. "And you're bickering again. Quiet now, the both of you!"

Georg gave her an apologetic smile. "Thank you, Mayla. I'm assuming the rescue operation was your idea."

A smile flitted across her face. "We didn't know you had been captured or we would have rescued you much sooner. I searched for you at the Rhenish rocks, but you never showed up. Last night, Artus and Angelika von Donnersberg told us that von Wickert and your other colleagues had arrested you."

"The main thing is that you got me out of there." He ran his hand through his red beard, which was longer than usual. "Von Wickert and my colleagues didn't believe a word I said when they arrested me. I tried to explain that the hunters weren't working with the outcasts but were probably acting on Vincent's behalf. They accused me of treason and espionage."

"Who interrogated you? Only von Wickert, or your other colleagues as well?"

Georg's gaze darkened. "He was the only one. He pressured Laukers and Ivanovic, the two policemen who were present when I was arrested, not to tell anyone where they were holding me."

"And yet there were always officers guarding the shack."

"They didn't come in. Von Wickert used a powerful spell to shield me completely. It's a miracle you were able to gain access. Your powers must have grown strong, Mayla."

She glanced over at Tom, who shook his head imperceptibly. Georg was to be kept oblivious of the fact that he'd broken down the door. She recalled her grandmother's words that the air heir should finally admit publicly to his origins. But could she simply ignore Tom's unmistakable signal to leave it be?

As if Tom could read her mind, he immediately changed the subject. "Believe it or not, we might have found the place where Mayla's grandmother is being held."

"What? And you're just telling me this now?" Georg whirled around to face him. "Where?"

"In a hidden world-fold in southern England. We came across a note from my grandmother in a borrowed book." She quickly summarized what they had gathered so far.

Again, Georg ran a hand through his beard. "That would explain why we didn't find any signs of a struggle in her house. She wasn't ambushed in her hideout but was overpowered in the world-fold. My God, finally we have something to go on. What's our next move?"

"Tomorrow we'll meet with Artus and Angelika von Donnersberg. They might have found out more about the fold and how big it is. I hope you'll come along."

"Of course. I'll help you free your grandma. As you can see, von Wickert relieved me of my signet ring — so in a way, I'm also an outcast." He held out his unadorned hand to them. "But first I must get a new wand or I won't be able to use my powers." He looked searchingly across the mountain landscape, which consisted only of grass swaying in the wind and which was mostly already in shadows since the sun had disappeared behind the high mountain peaks. "Is there a forest nearby? Or some trees?"

"You're welcome to take a look around." Tom made a sweeping gesture towards the vast landscape. "In principle, though, I'm fine with you remaining unarmed."

Mayla rolled her eyes. "You don't have to run off to find a tree. Tomorrow morning, I'll jump with you into the forest at the Rhenish Cliffs. I'd like to watch you make a new wand. It sounds exciting."

Georg grinned. "Thanks. So, how are you?"

The cats meowed a greeting and Mayla pulled Georg into the cabin to introduce him to her spirit animal. "Look, this is little Karl."

He stroked his head carefully. "Cute little fellow. So, what happened to the owl that warned us at your grandma's house?"

Mayla gave little Karl a parting smile and they withdrew. On their way out into the evening sun, Tom walked past them and into the cabin for a cup of water. "That was my grandma's owl. Obviously, neither it nor the crow was my spirit animal."

She heard the cup suddenly hit the table, and Tom emerged from the cabin. "What crow?"

"The one nearby that kept cawing."

He surprised her by grasping her arms. "Why didn't you tell me about this? When did it show up?"

Mayla pulled free. "Ouch! What's gotten into you?"

Georg stepped between the two with his arms crossed. "What is going on, Tom?"

"Where exactly did you first encounter that crow?" Tom inquired again, ignoring Georg.

"In several places. I can't be sure it was always the same one, but there was a crow outside the window at the inn where Georg and I spent the night. Then, in the forest when I... read my grandmother's letter, I also saw one sitting in the branches. And when I was in the bookstore, before I knew I was a witch, there was a crow cawing somewhere in the night. Why?"

Tom ran a hand down the back of his neck. "He knows about you."

"Who knows about me?"

"He's been watching you."

"Who? What are you talking about, Tom?"

Georg eyed him seriously. "Who's been watching Mayla?"

"It's merely a hunch." Tom glanced over his shoulder, surveying the grassy mountain landscape as if someone in this desolate place might be eavesdropping.

"What's your hunch?" Mayla looked up at him. He didn't say anything but gave her a pained look. She clenched her hands and tears welled up in her eyes. "Talk to me, Tom. Don't close yourself off like this all the time. What's going on?"

Georg figured it out. "Vincent von Eisenfels."

Mayla's jaw dropped. "But he's..."

"He's trapped, yes, but his spirit animal is not."

Immediately, Georg looked around as if von Eisenfels was already there to kill them.

Tom was still looking at her, unable to take his eyes off her. His gaze was suddenly so open and so clear that her arms were instantly covered in goosebumps. She read grief, pain, fear, and something else that made her feel like someone was crushing her heart. It was regret.

She stood still and stared at his face, unable to speak.

Georg broke the tense silence. "I take it Vincent's spirit animal is a crow?"

Tom blinked as if the question brought him back to the present, nodding slowly.

Georg frowned, forming a deep crease on his forehead. "How do you know?"

"Melinda and I have been gathering anything we could find on him for the past three years. Every anecdote, any memory, regardless of how insignificant, that anyone had of him. Years ago, one of his classmates told me that his spirit animal was a crow."

The hair on Mayla's arms had stood up, and she ran her hands over them. "But the bird following me could have been another crow. Maybe even an ordinary bird instead of a spirit animal. Maybe it wasn't even the same one, but a different animal each time. It's not like I can tell them apart."

"It's possible," Georg mused.

"Damn unlikely though." Tom angrily kicked a rock through the blades of grass across the meadow before he got himself under control. "When was the last time you encountered the crow? Did you notice it at Donnersberg Castle? Or here at the cabin?"

She shook her head thoughtfully. "No, definitely not here! The last time was in the forest where we were waiting when Georg jumped to the station — just before they arrested you, Georg."

Tom closed his eyes.

"What is it? What are you thinking?"

He shook his head. "It's not important. We have to act fast. Best to forget whatever we had planned. We need to hide you somewhere."

"Hide me?"

"You're sure you've never seen it around here?" Tom made a sweeping gesture with his hand that encompassed the cabin and the mountain landscape. "Think carefully, Mayla. Did you ever notice it here?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, I'm fairly sure I..."

"Fairly sure isn't good enough. Think!"

"Calm down." Georg raised his hands. "What are the chances of an attack? Do you think he can just show up here?"

Tom let out an unhappy laugh. "Of course, any time! You must never underestimate him. His capabilities are... unimaginable. He could just as easily send someone after us."

"Wait a minute," Mayla interjected. "He can't come himself since he's confined to the world-fold. Anyone showing up in his place won't have his capabilities. Tom, we are both powerful witches. We're members of the founding families. They would have to overpower us first!"

Tom paled, as did Mayla when she realized what had slipped out.

Georg's gaze darted back and forth between them. "Wait a minute. What am I missing? You're also a member of a founding family?"

Tom shook his head. "I'm not..."

The cat had been unintentionally let out of the bag. But her grandma's request had been clear. She and Tom were to step out in the open and fight the hunters and von Eisenfels together. The moment had come — the grace period was over. He was no longer a child and it was time to face his responsibilities. Still, a slight blush appeared in her cheeks. "I've seen you cast spells with your hands. You must accept your legacy and act accordingly. You are the last living descendant of the Air Circle founding family. Your real name is Andrew Steven Montgomery."

Tom didn't say a word.

"What?" Georg was shaking. "It's not true, is it?"

"It is," she insisted.

Tom ran a hand through his dark hair and glanced over his shoulder again. "What makes you think that, Mayla?"

"In her letter, my grandmother instructed me... to find the heir to the Air Circle founding family. As a clue, she mentioned the Aguilera family in the Pyrenees. And according to the spell, we're also in the Pyrenees. So, you haven't moved far from them."

Tom shook his head. "I'm not..."

"I visited Cesaro Aguilera, your foster father. He told me something bad happened back then and that you had left as a result, never to be heard from again. So, what happened?"

"What makes you think I'm the one he's talking about?"

"His description. Dark hair, green eyes. Besides, I've seen you cast spells with your hands. Therefore, you must be a member of a founding family."

Tom closed his eyes while Georg stood there flabbergasted, letting his hands drop. "You're the last living Montgomery? Prove it."

"Georg, stop that nonsense. He doesn't have to prove anything." Tears shimmered in her eyes as she grabbed his hands. "Tom, whatever happened back then with the Aguilera family couldn't have been that bad. Tell me about it. Please..."

Tom exhaled forcefully through his nose, broke free of her, and took two steps back. He straightened up and squared his shoulders so that he appeared even taller, then looked down at them bitterly. "I'm not the last Montgomery alive."

"Stop lying."

"I'm not lying!"

"Then why can you cast spells with your hands?"

Tom glared at Mayla without making a sound. Georg's eyes instantly widened and he placed himself protectively in front of Mayla. "Blow a good wind at us."

"I can't."

Georg spread his arms as if to keep Tom from coming closer to Mayla and started walking backward, causing them to stumble across the meadow and nearly fall. "I know why you can't."

Tom fixed him with his eyes and glared at him challengingly. He hurried after them — two steps, three — and then stood in front of them with his legs wide apart. "Then say it!"

Mayla wanted to stop, but Georg kept pushing her away from Tom, across the meadow, to nowhere.

"What's he supposed to say? Georg, what's going on? Let me go to him!"

Raising his chin, Tom stared down at her dismissively. "Come on now! Explain it to her. She wouldn't believe me anyway."

"He's a..." Georg's hands shook and he reached back to Mayla, almost clawing at her waist. "He's a von Eisenfels!"

Mayla's heart stopped beating. "A von Eisenfels? That can't be... Vincent has been locked up in the fold for years."

"Spill it," Georg roared, stopping a few feet from Tom. "Tell us who you really are!"

Tom crossed his arms in front of his chest. He didn't go after them and just stood there while a strange calmness overcame him, almost as if he was happy to finally come clean and put an end to this game of hide and seek. "My real name is Valerius Vincent von Eisenfels. I am his son."

"Get the amulet key and charm us away, Mayla, quickly!"

Mayla was unable to move and stood frozen in place behind Georg. The son of... Tom was the son of...

"It can't be... It cannot..." She raised her eyes and took a step around Georg, who immediately grabbed her around the waist. "You are the son of..."

Tom watched her and when she didn't finish the sentence, he did. "...the son of your parents' murderer."

"Mayla, now!" Georg roared, fiddling with the chain that held the amulet key around her neck. He yanked out the amulet and held it out to her. Mayla reached for it with infinite slowness. All the while, she couldn't tear her eyes from Tom. He was standing tall in front of the hut, alone and abandoned, though there was something like triumph in his eyes, even if it was only a facade.

"Perduce nos ad scopulos Rheni!"

Chapter Twenty

They landed on the high cliff overlooking the Rhine valley where the three of them had spent a lot of time together. Exhausted, Mayla sank to her knees and slumped to the ground. Georg grasped her shoulders and tried to pull her back to her feet.

"Come on, we can't stay here. He knows this place. He knows we're..."

"He won't come."

Georg squatted down beside her, wrapping an arm around her. "How can you be so sure? He is after all, the son of..."

"He won't come." Suddenly, her hands began to shake violently. Her whole body was starting to tremble and her gaze went blank. Tom's real name was Valerius Vincent von Eisenfels. He was the son of Vincent von Eisenfels. Who was his mother? Did he have other siblings? Did he visit them on a regular basis?

"Still, let's go, it's too dangerous here. At least, let's go back to the little inn."

Lifting her eyes, she struggled back to reality. Georg's gray eyes showed concern as he brushed a stray strand from her face and put his hand on her cheek. "Mayla, it'll be okay. He's not going to hurt you. I'll protect you."

An attempt at a smile flitted across her pale face. "Without a wand?"

"You can only make a wand at sunrise. Let's go to the inn. We can spend the night there. In the morning, I'll make myself one."

She nodded and clasped the amulet key again. "All right, but I'd prefer to spend the night at old Bertha's."

Georg smiled tenderly at her, but he shook his head. "That's too close to the station. Remember, I'm a wanted man. Besides, he knows the hotel, too."

"All right. Perduce me ad deversorium silvae silentis." They lifted off from the rocky ground and landed on the lawn in front of the cozy inn.

Anja, the innkeeper, had only one double room left, which the two took for one night. They ordered some food that she'd bring to their room so they could eat undisturbed. Neither was in the mood for company, and also nobody could eavesdrop on them that way.

"I still can't believe it," Mayla immediately began as the door slammed shut behind them. "Did you know von Eisenfels had a son?"

"No. No one knows. I'm wondering who his mother is and if she was behind your grandma's disappearance."

"Oh, God, how are we going to free my grandma without Tom's help? Just the two of us?"

Georg put his hand on her arm. "Calm down. We can do this. We just need a good plan. Come sit down."

She shook her head. "First, I want to shower. I have to wash off the dirt from the last few days and..." wash his scent off me because otherwise, I'll go crazy, she wanted to say, but didn't.

Georg understood anyway. "It's fine, I'll use the bathroom after you. First, I'll trim my beard — I can't look like this when I spend the evening with a lady."

Mayla smiled sadly. Oh, how she had missed him and his kindness. "It's good to have you back." After expressing her gratitude, she disappeared into the bathroom.

∞

Half an hour later, she was sitting on the bed wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, her clothes hanging in the bathroom to dry. She'd finally had the chance to wash them the old-fashioned way, which was why she wanted to dry them the normal way. Somehow, she found it cleaner than using her witch powers. Also, probably because it was a matter of habit.

Georg had also washed his clothes by hand and hung them next to Mayla's before returning to the room in a bathrobe. He found her sitting on the bed hanging her head, her back against the headboard.

"Mayla, are you all right?"

When she looked up, he saw tears glistening on her cheeks. "I left little Karl at Tom's." She sobbed, her body shaking. "I hope he doesn't hurt him. How could I have been so selfish? Little Karl is still so tiny. I should have made sure he was protected."

Georg sat down next to her and stroked her shoulder. "Don't worry, his mother is with him."

"But she's Tom's spirit animal. Who knows what she's..."

"She would never hurt her children."

"But she's a spirit animal of the von Eisenfels family..."

"...that doesn't make her a bad mother. Don't worry. She will protect her children from everything and everyone — even her spirit mate. And another thing – I really don't feel like praising that swindler – but I'm sure he won't do anything to little Karl."

All of a sudden she felt guilty. How could she have accused Kitty of such a thing? She knew the cat. Kitty was still the same loving animal who'd come to her rescue so many times. And each time, Tom had appeared shortly after. Why would he have helped her out of life-threatening situations so often? He could have just as easily let her die or be caught by the hunters. What were his motives?

A gentle knock on the door made her jump. Georg stood and opened it. Anja entered with two trays of sandwiches, tomato salad, and scrambled eggs floating into the room behind her. She immediately disappeared again, without so much as a glance at Mayla. Discretion was obviously a top priority for her.

The trays landed on the bed in front of Mayla but, uncharacteristically, she pushed them away. "I have no appetite."

"I understand you're in shock and sad, but you have to keep your strength up. We have lots of things to take care of. Take at least a few bites. Look here." From behind his back, he whipped out a third tray the landlady had inconspicuously given him. It contained two plates, each with a large piece of chocolate cake.

New tears streamed down her face, but she wiped them away with the back of her hand. "You're wonderful."

"That's what I wanted to hear." Georg placed the tray on the mattress next to her outstretched legs. "Normally, I'd insist you eat right. Today, however, I promise not to say a word if you devote yourself exclusively to our desserts."

A smile flitted across her flushed face and, satisfied, Georg sat down beside her on the bed at a proper distance. Starving, he tucked into the delicious food while she poked listlessly at the cake.

"Shouldn't I try to persuade Kitty to join us, along with little Karl and the other kitten?"

"No, let her rest. I'm sure little Karl will come to you in the next few days, all in one piece. Spirit animals wean much faster, even more so when their witch needs them."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"How can he do that? He doesn't know where I am. Not to mention, he doesn't have an amulet key."

"Spirit animals possess an ancient form of magic that doesn't require the help of objects or spells. It comes from the heart. You'll see, little Karl will show up near you, in a week at the latest. Until then, you can communicate with him telepathically. Try it."

She closed her eyes and thought about the cute little ball of fur. She pictured him and soon after felt a warmth around her heart that was not of her own making. It enveloped her and cared for her as if little Karl was an ancient friend. How old might his soul be? She opened her eyes and smiled, relieved. "He's fine."

"I told you so. Now turn your attention to your plate. If you are going to crumble up my piece of cake like you did yours, I'd rather eat it myself."

She stared at her dessert in disbelief and grinned. Tentatively, she forked a small piece, but as she was bringing it to her mouth, she paused. "Why did Tom save me so many times?"

"We can only speculate about that. For my part, I'm glad I was with you when you found out and you're no longer under his influence. He might be spying for his father."

"Then why was he so horrified when he found out about the crow?"

"He was probably miffed because his father is spying on him."

"I don't think so. He was..."

"Mayla, let me be perfectly straight with you. The von Eisenfels family is homicidal. You can't trust him anymore!"

"That's what he told me the first time we met."

Georg frowned perplexedly and shook his head. "He was acting mysteriously to win you over. He wanted to win your trust at any price. Be glad you finally know the truth."

Did she? From the beginning, she had wanted to know where he'd come from and what his story was, but she hadn't expected that she might not like the answer. He was the son of her parents' murderer. He had known it all these weeks — and hadn't said a word.

How close she had been to him... They had kissed and spent a night together. She had slept in his arms. Their hearts had felt so connected, as if from then on they could only beat in unison.

A lump formed in her throat and it felt like a ring was forming around her chest, squeezing it mercilessly. Had she been in danger all this time? She couldn't imagine it — or was she merely refusing to? What was his agenda? Why hadn't he done anything to her when she had lain defenseless in his arms?

Georg took the plate from her hand. Only now did she notice that she had taken two small bites of the cake at most. "Lie down, Mayla. You look exhausted."

She merely nodded, then slid lower onto the bed and under the covers. Georg set the trays on the corner table and settled into one of the comfortable armchairs. Seeing him in the chair, she patted the bed beside her. "Come on, it's wide enough."

He shook his head. "No, Mayla, you sleep in the bed. The armchair is fine for me."

"But I'd like for you... just to lie with me. Please."

He smiled and sat on the bed next to her. Again, he wanted to object, but she pulled him onto the bed by the arm, turned on her side, and leaned her back against his chest. "Hold me." Silent tears streamed down her face as Georg held her.

"Sleep well, Mayla. I'll be right here."

Grateful, she stopped crying and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth and security he offered. After a few minutes, his arm grew heavier and she heard him snoring softly. She listened to his steady breathing while she thought again of Tom, her grandma, and everything she had experienced and witnessed over the past few weeks —up to and including Tom's revelation.

She had allowed events to pull her along like a balloon following the whims of the wind. She had let herself be patronized by Angelika and Artus von Donnersberg, be influenced by Tom and by Georg, and be chased by Vincent's followers, and all the while she hadn't stopped once to give it some thought. To collect herself and reflect on what she wanted. That practice was a thing of the past. She was Mayla, the last living descendant of the famous witch Melinda von Flammenstein. Her powers were growing with each passing day. She felt it whenever she cast a little spell. It wasn't just the practice that made the spells spill from her lips so easily, no — she was growing stronger. The magic no longer merely tingled in her fingertips but literally burned in her hands, her arms, and her entire body. Her insides were filled with a power she had to use, that she wanted to use to free her grandmother and to finally assume her rightful place.

She would take a good look at the witches and wizards who had been running the Fire Coven's council since her grandma's disappearance and get them into line. And as for Tom... She pressed her lips together firmly. She wasn't afraid of him! Like her, he was a descendant of the five most powerful witch families that had ever existed in history. Whatever his plan was, their paths would cross again — that much was certain.

She would have to practice, to study like a woman possessed in order to face the tasks life had thrown at her and to prepare for the encounter with Tom and the man who had murdered her parents. The era of helpless Mayla was over!

'Vola!' she thought, and Witchcraft 101, her grandmother's book, slipped out of her purse and floated to her. She opened the textbook to the beginning and started reading.

Chapter Twenty-One

The next morning, Georg was awakened as someone cleared their throat and rudely shook his shoulder. He stretched and felt for Mayla, but she was no longer next to him. The left side of the bed was empty.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and found himself looking at her. She was standing impatiently in front of the bed, dressed and ready to go. At once, he could tell something was different. Her eyes were made up darker than usual, but that wasn't it. Her expression had become harder, more determined.

"Did you sleep well?"

Yawning, he nodded.

"Sorry to wake you, but time is of the essence. You should eat breakfast so we can get going. Of course, you have to make yourself a wand first."

He frowned. "What's wrong, Mayla?"

"Nothing's wrong. I simply want to free my grandma. Now get out of bed."

Yawning heartily again, he rose and disappeared into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, they had eaten breakfast and paid for the room. They left the inn before the sun had risen. Mayla picked up a stick and blew a flame on it before they continued through the dark forest, side by side.

"What do you want your wand to be made of? Oak or willow are supposed to be the most suitable woods, though rowan is also powerful."

He looked at her puzzled. "How do you know all that?"

"Violett told me about it, and I've also been studying my grandmother's books."

"When?"

"Last night."

"So, you didn't sleep at all?"

"No, I did, a few hours."

Georg studied her. What had happened to the Mayla he knew? At that moment, she tripped over a large tree root. Grinning, he steadied her by the arm to keep her from falling to the mossy ground.

"Don't laugh!"

"I'm not."

"Then why are you grinning like that?"

"Because I'm happy."

"About what? That I'm tripping over my own feet?"

"Yes."

She furrowed her brows, making him grin even wider.

"I'm happy for the opportunity to show you how to make your own wand. Granted, you have no use for one, but maybe the knowledge will still come in handy someday. I made my last wand from a yew tree. It's my family's wood."

She looked at him with interest. "Does every witch family have a preferred wood?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. However, I think it's time for a change. I have to make myself a more powerful wand to take on the von Eisenfels and the coven they seem to have unlawfully established. I'm considering rowan, since the tree complements the water element. Can you help me look for one? It'll save time."

Her eyes widened with delight. "Search? Yes, of course. I read about a spell in my grandma's book. Inveni... Now I need the Latin word for mountain ash."

"Inveni sorbum! For best results, imagine a rowan tree at the same time. That will make it even easier."

Mayla visualized the tree with bright red berries. "Inveni sorbum!" A glittering beam shot from her fingertips and illuminated the gloom. It flew through the air like a bolt and disappeared between two oaks.

"Quickly, we have to follow it!" Georg let her take the lead and they chased after the flash, leaping over nettles and balsam, further and further away from the inn and deeper into the forest. A shadow fluttered in front of them, probably a butterfly startled by their frantic chase, only to disappear again.

Dawn was breaking, creeping its way gradually into the woods. They followed the flash and encountered a gently babbling brook. There were rowan trees growing on its banks, the mighty crowns resplendent with bright white blossoms. The flash circled the trunks a few times before fading away.

"It's a good thing we used the spell. Without berries, I wouldn't have recognized the trees at all. What's the next step? We don't have to cut one of them down, do we?"

"No, my wand requires a branch that grew fresh shoots this spring." He leaped energetically across the stream and stretched up to a low-hanging bough. He felt it with his fingers all the way to its end, where green tips were sprouting from a couple of branches. He grasped one of them with both hands and waited for the light of the morning sun to appear on the horizon. "Oro, sorbum forte, donum magicum." He gently broke off the branch, which did not splinter or fray. The branch broke cleanly as if it had been sawed. A small spark sprang from the break and a new twig, scarcely smaller than the one Georg had broken off, grew out in its place.

Mayla blew out the flame on her fingertips. It had grown bright enough. "Wow, it's like you didn't take anything from the tree. What did you say?"

"It's an ancient formula. Loosely translated, it means: strong rowan, I ask for a magical gift."

"Now what? Or is that it?"

Grinning, he shook his head. "Watch and learn." He walked to the trunk of the rowan tree and pressed his hand against the smooth bark. The stick was in his other hand. He closed his eyes and said, "Fortitudinem, sapientiam, vigorem dona!" He carefully tapped the stick three times against the trunk and its tip began to glow. The glow grew stronger and more powerful until it was a steady bright light that spread beyond the tip of the stick to Georg's hand and the trunk of the rowan tree. Mayla was blinded and turned her face away for a moment. When she looked back at Georg, the stick in his hand had a fine light wrapped around it like a ribbon.

An owl screeched and Mayla looked up. A bird's broad wings stood out against the red morning sky. Was it the owl she'd encountered at her grandmother's house? Or was it another messenger of bad luck?

Georg raised his arm and the bird landed on it. It was not the owl Mayla had seen outside the kitchen window. This one was not brown, but instead had a white belly and plumage around its that face formed a heart-shaped frame. It was slightly larger than the owl at her grandmother's hideout and its eyes were pitch black.

Slowly, Georg brought his arm to his face, and the owl let out a soft "shush," pressing its head against his.

"Gratias ago, sorbum forte." He stroked the shiny bark one last time and turned back to Mayla. "May I introduce you to Creola, my spirit animal."

She carefully took a few steps closer. The owl tilted its head and watched her with its dark eyes. Before Mayla could reach the owl, it let out a hoot that sounded like "shriiiii," as if telling Mayla to stop. The owl looked at Georg for a moment, blinked its black eyes, spread its wide wings, and flew away.

"A beautiful animal. I didn't know your spirit animal was an owl."

Georg smiled. "Yes, a barn owl. She's something special." He gazed after her as she flew over the forest until she was only a tiny dot in the morning sky.

"Did she come for the new wand?"

He nodded. "She was already nearby when you freed me. Last night, she flew here so she could warn me in case there was danger. Since I couldn't cast spells without a wand, she wanted to stay close."

Curious, she looked at the stick in his hand. "Is your wand ready now?"

"We'll have to test it." He pointed the tip at a group of wood anemones gleaming in the morning sunlight. "Vola!" A flower broke off and flew to him. He took it in his hand and tucked it behind Mayla's ear. "White flowers go well with your dark hair."

"Wow, that means your wand works. What did you say to the rowan when you put your hand on the trunk?"

"First, I asked it to give me — or rather, the broken branch — strength, wisdom, and energy. Once it did that, I thanked it."

"The last part I understood." Tilting her head, she looked at the wand in his hand, its tip still glowing. "Now, do you need more practice or are you ready for action?"

"It's like a car. As soon as you get behind the wheel, you automatically know what to do." He winked at her.

"What exactly happened to your amulet key? Did von Wickert take it from you during the interrogation?"

"As soon as they arrested me, they confiscated it. It was one from the police station, which is why von Wickert wanted to accuse me of theft too. Yet it's my right as chief inspector to carry the key with me at all times in exceptional situations." He cleared his throat. "At least it was my right. I will get my job back, I promise you."

"You should. You can't let von Wickert take over."

"Exactly. But first, we'll free your grandma. That takes priority." He pointed the tip of his wand at the tear in his shirt. "Refice!" The fabric patched itself up and looked like new again. He put a hand on Mayla's shoulder. "When were you and Tom supposed to meet with the von Donnersbergs?"

"This afternoon. But we should jump there now to get there before Tom — though I don't think he'll show." Her shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly, but she immediately squared them again.

"Well, let’s go."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Even before her feet made contact with the cold stone tiles in the entrance hall of Donnersberg Castle, she saw the lord of the castle standing in front of them with his wand raised. Von Donnersberg recognized Mayla and lowered the wand, but he eyed Georg suspiciously.

"Good morning, Mayla. I see you were able to free the policeman."

"Sure did. This is Georg."

The men shook hands and the lord of the castle eyed Georg's finger. Not spotting a signet ring, he nodded in satisfaction.

"Georg Stein, it's a pleasure to meet you. A fine castle you have here." He looked up and took in the vaulted ceiling and shiny suits of armor.

"That's kind of you." Artus looked at Mayla quizzically. "Where's Tom?"

Unsure how to explain, she pointed to the hall. "We had a most... enlightening conversation yesterday. I think we'd better continue talking inside."

Von Donnersberg frowned, but with a wave of his arm, he invited her to enter the hall. Mayla was expecting to find a silent, empty room like two days before when she'd been there with Tom, but the members of the Inner Circle were sitting at the table. "What's going on?"

Violett Piers immediately jumped up from her chair and threw her arms around Mayla's neck, her numerous bracelets clinking loudly together. "There you are. I've missed you. How's the witchcraft coming along?"

She hugged Violett happily. "Better. You won't be able to fly me around, I can tell you that."

Violett pinched her arm playfully. "Like I'd still dare." She hooked arms with Mayla and pulled her toward the table. Those present regarded Georg suspiciously.

"Isn't he a cop?" Anna Nowak asked, raising her perfectly plucked eyebrows. She was already pulling out her wand, when Georg quickly held out his hand, smiling charmingly at her.

"My name is Georg. I'm a cop on the run because I tried to convince the police that you don't cooperate with the hunters. Apparently, that undertaking made me an outcast too. They confiscated my signet ring, as you can see."

The notion made Anna smirk. Violett winked at Mayla and pointed to those present.

"It's great that you did that. Here we have Angelika von Donnersberg and Eduardo de Luca, along with Manuel von Weissenstein, Susana Sanchez, Nora Andersson, and Anna Nowak, whom you just met, and sitting over there is Pierre Dubois, Thomas Winkler, Markus Reichel, Matthew McGregor, John Stone, and I'm Violett Piers."

"John Stone?" Grinning, Georg walked over to him and the Englishman rose. His sweatpants rustled. "We are not related, are we?" Grinning, he slapped his shoulder.

John grasped his hand. "Not that I know of."

"What's he doing here?" Markus Reichel inquired, closing the political pamphlet he had been studying.

"Georg is going to help us free my grandma," Mayla explained, settling down next to Violett.

"He wants to go with us to the secret fifth circle?" Anna asked, stunned.

Mayla listened. "So it's true? Vincent von Eisenfels and his family have formed a fifth coven in secret?"

Violett propped her thin arms on the table and nodded. "After you came here with Tom, Artus immediately rounded us up to gather information. From the looks of it, the hunters are united by a coven. Speaking of which, where is Tom?"

"Tom won't be coming." In turn, Mayla looked at those present. "He has... He is..." She was at a loss for words. How could she say who he was when she could hardly believe it herself? He was the son of her parents' murderer. He was a von Eisenfels. A quiet voice inside her told her that it didn't make him a criminal, but should she listen to that voice?

Georg came to her rescue. "He has been living under a false identity. His real name is Valerius Vincent von Eisenfels."

"What?" Anna shrieked, rising from the table so abruptly that her chair wobbled. "I don't believe it. You two are lying. Tom would never... He's never... No, he's loyal, he's..."

Hearing that fact spoken aloud again hurt Mayla as if someone had struck her with a curse. However, she couldn't let it stop her, couldn't let it weaken her. She had to be strong. "He told us himself. And... I've seen him cast spells without a wand several times. At first, I thought he was the last living Montgomery — or I would have been suspicious sooner."

Artus and Angelika cast silent glances at each other. "He told you himself? To both of you?" inquired the lady of the castle.

"Yes, he did, right after we freed Georg."

Pierre Dubois pounded his fist on the table. "He is a spy for his father. He was here to spy on us. Sacrément! He's the second traitor. Now we also know how von Eisenfels learned of the hiding place back then."

"Wait a minute." Appeasingly, von Donnersberg raised his hands. "At the time his father was imprisoned, he couldn't have been but five years old. That was over thirty years ago. We've known him..."

He looked questioningly at his wife, who continued sadly, "...for three years. Melinda brought him to us."

"My grandma?"

Eduardo pounded his fists on the table. "He immediately attached himself to her, of course! Probably a special assignment for his father!"

Von Donnersberg raised his hands again. "We are not here to guess and judge. We have come together to develop a plan. The protection around the world-fold where Vincent is being held is crumbling. I've been there to check out the situation for myself. It won't be long now before he will succeed in freeing himself. In addition, Marianna Lauber overheard where the fold is located — if the hunters didn't already know, by now she'll have told them the location. We have to assume they will try everything to help him escape. I assume they will take advantage of the coming full moon."

"The next full moon?" Mayla raised her dark brows. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"During a full moon our powers are strongest," Violett murmured to her.

"And when is the next full moon?"

The red-haired witch looked at her intently. "Tonight."

Mayla looked from one to the other, stunned. "Tonight? Then we only have a few hours..."

"We have to free Melinda as soon as possible. Otherwise, we won't be able to stop him," von Donnersberg said pointedly.

Mayla turned to Angelika. "Did you find out anything from the librarian, Mr. Binder?"

Angelika nodded. "You were correct in your discovery. There is a hidden world-fold in the south of England near Exmouth. It must be well over five hundred years old and has the approximate dimensions of a large city. Fortunately, you discovered Melinda's note in the book, otherwise, we'd still have no leads."

Suddenly something occurred to Mayla. Startled, she looked at the others. "Tom found this out..."

"Damn, maybe it's a trap," John speculated.

Violett listened. "Did you see your grandma's record? Was it her writing?"

"I'm absolutely certain of it. I also received a letter from her. I know her handwriting."

"A letter?" Von Donnersberg immediately held out his hand. "May I see it?"

"I don't have it anymore."

The lord of the castle looked at her suspiciously, then turned his gaze to Manuel. "If it was her handwriting, I assume she's there."

"She is there." Angelika pulled out a book. "She borrowed this guidebook on southern England some time ago. I found more notes in it."

"We didn't discover the book," Mayla reflected aloud. "But then we only took the history books because all the other books were about plants. The guidebook must have been stuck in between. How could we have missed it?"

Georg shook his head. "We didn't overlook it. Arnold Binder didn't show us the book."

She looked at him, mouth agape. "Are you certain?"

He nodded.

Angelika waved it off. "It was almost half a year ago when she borrowed it. You probably only looked at the books she took home in the last month or two. Yet her research has been dragging on for years."

"So she went to the south of England to that world-fold." Pondering, Mayla drummed her nails on the table. "We need a map of world-folds in the area. Then we can jump there and enter the hidden fold today."

"No." Von Donnersberg shook his head. "We need someone to spy on the fold for us first. Someone should watch the hunters. If we rush in there blindly, they'll spot us right away."

"I'm not going to wait a few more weeks to get my grandma out of there. You said it yourself, Vincent's prison fold won't hold much longer." Darn. Her grandma had asked her to find the heir to the Air Circle and she hadn't been able to complete the task. With him, she could have protected the fold.

"We cannot be rash..."

A shrill sound boomed through the hall and everyone covered their ears. Only von Donnersberg instantly jumped to his feet and ran into the hall with his wand drawn. That must have been his alarm spell. Someone had arrived. Tom?

Excited, Mayla pushed her chair backward and rushed after him, along with Anna and Georg. When they arrived in the entrance hall, the alarm fell silent and no one was to be seen.

"What was that?" She peered toward the corners and the armor as if someone was hiding there, but there was no shadow to be seen. Strange. "So no one showed up?"

"Yes, someone was briefly here, but before I saw him, he disappeared again. He left this for us." Von Donnersberg bent down and picked up something small and brown from the stone floor, holding it aloft between his index finger and thumb. It was a chocolate.

"A chocolate?" Anna frowned.

Mayla's eyes opened wide in disbelief. "It's not real. I can smell that right away. It must be a Nuntia spell. Who would..." She looked at von Donnersberg with her mouth hanging open. "Tom..." and as she said his name, her heart clenched.

He nodded. "I think so, too."

"Since it's a chocolate, the message is meant for me." She promptly held her hand out to him.

Von Donnersberg handed it to her hesitantly. "We should look at it together with the others."

She studied the fake chocolate thoroughly from all sides. It looked like

the one with the chocolate mousse filling that she had bought at the confectionery in Ulmen City and asked Tom to sample. Why was he sending her a message? Was he trying to explain things? Justify himself? Tell her he loved her and that, regardless of what family he belonged to, he wanted to be with her forever?

"Come." Von Donnersberg put his hand on her back with a fatherly gesture and pushed her back into the hall. Everyone looked expectantly at Mayla as she held up the chocolate. It wasn't until she saw the chocolate ball wobbling back and forth between her fingers that she realized how badly she was shaking.

Violett rushed to her side. "You're as white as a sheet. What happened?"

Wordlessly, she held the chocolate under her nose. Violett furrowed her reddish brows skeptically. Mayla cleared her throat to make sure she hadn't lost her voice. "This isn't real. It's a message from... from Tom."

"What? A Nuntia spell? How would you know?"

"I just know." She hurried to the round table and dropped into the chair before her legs could give way. Georg and Violett sat down next to her, which she hardly noticed. The night before, she'd read about the Nuntia spell in her grandmother's book. She had memorized not only how to cast it, but also how to open such a message. Without hesitation, she brought the chocolate to her lips and thought, 'Te aperi!'

The ball floated from her hand into the air, spun above the tabletop, and grew larger and larger. A shadow spread across its center. As it grew, the fake chocolate dissolved and a dark shape appeared in its place. It grew larger and larger, shooting up into the air — until it resembled Tom.

He looked pale and battered. He had not slept the previous night — that much was certain. As if it was truly him, he turned to Mayla and fixed her with his green eyes. He locked his gaze with hers without saying anything. It took him a moment to speak, as if he were truly looking at her and at a loss for words.

Her heart pounding, she grabbed the armrests of her chair. She squeezed them so tightly that her knuckles turned white as she stared spellbound at Tom's apparition.

"Mayla, I have an important message for you. Although I did not reveal to you who I really am, it is imperative you trust me now. I know I've always told you not to, but now you must. I saved your life several times and I would do it again in a heartbeat. Just because my father is the murderer of your parents doesn't mean I have a dark soul."

She curled her fingers even tighter around the armrests. She stared at Tom without blinking. Was this an apology?

"Last night and the night before, I was with the hunters’ circle. I mingled with them. Now that you know who I am, I revealed who I was to them to find out more about the new coven."

"Like he didn't go there in the first place! Don't believe a word that liar says!" Matthew McGregor roared, but von Donnersberg raised his hand, and the Scot remained silent.

"During the course of this, it came to my attention that your grandmother is indeed being held captive in the hidden world-fold in southern England. They used a ruse to lure her there. They altered the book and the passage about the researcher to trap her."

"Who does he mean by them?" Angelika murmured to her husband. "The hunters?"

He leaned toward her. "He'll let us know, I hope."

"They've prepared a prison cell and put the Exsugo spell on the interior."

Those present gasped in shock, with the exception of Mayla, who merely blinked in irritation. "What is the Exsugo spell?"

Georg clenched his hands. "It sucks out your witch powers. The spell is ancient and belongs to the forgotten spells. It must be what was used to rob the abducted witches of their magic."

Meanwhile, Tom continued, "I knew my father had studied ancient scriptures and forgotten curses. That's why he was able to kill living witches in such a way as to absorb their magic during the process. He even deprived the members of the founding families of their powers in this way. And so the other coven members are not as powerful as he is."

"Except Tom himself was the one who cast the spell," Eduardo de Luca chimed in, his strong peppermint breath wafting to Mayla.

"Shh," von Donnersberg admonished him, then let his gaze wander around the room so that everyone present knew not to interrupt Tom's message.

"Whoever had the power to cast that curse — your grandma, Mayla, is locked in a cell with this spell over her. Every day she grows weaker. That's why it will only take a few more hours for my... for Vincent to escape the world-fold. I'm sure they'll take advantage of the full moon. Tonight, the hunters will go to the fold to free him. And that's the only chance you'll have to save your grandma. If she has to remain in this prison, she'll be dead in only a few days."

"That's not true! She won't die!" cried out Mayla, who had tears in her eyes.

As if Tom had heard her words, he looked at her regretfully. "I hope you believe me, Mayla. There's so much riding on this. You have to make a choice. Either you go to that world-fold tonight with everyone who opposes Vincent to prevent his escape or you free your grandma. He and his people purposefully planned it that way — I'm convinced of that."

A shiver ran down her spine. Was this a trick? Was he trying to mislead her? Lure her into a trap, like her grandmother? No, Tom wouldn't...

His message wasn't over yet. "The fold in southern England is extremely well-guarded and remember, they were able to capture even your grandma, so don't underestimate them. Don't be reckless. Melinda wouldn't want that.

"As soon as the sun sets, the hunters will be on their way. That's when you must be there searching for your grandmother. You must find her, free her, and be gone from there before Vincent is at large again and returns to the south of England to the hidden world-fold because he certainly will, and then you won't be able to get out of there."

Tom held out his hands to her, palms up. The gesture had something helpless about it. At the same time, he looked as serious as ever, his face showing nothing of what was going on inside. "That's all I can do for you. With my return, my fate is sealed. If you want to check on little Karl, you can. I will not return to the cabin again. But don't try to take him from Kitty. Once he's weaned, he'll come to you on his own."

A tear made its way down Mayla's cheek and formed a drop on her chin, but she didn't feel it.

"I wish you good luck and... Georg?" He turned his head and looked at his rival. "Take good care of her." With those words, Tom's image shrank and fizzled out as if it had never been there.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Aloud discussion broke out, but Mayla didn't hear a word of it. She stared at the center of the table, above which Tom had just been visible. No, not Tom, just the illusion of him. His fate was sealed. What had he meant by that? Was there no way out for him? Did he have to... side with his father?

"Mayla?" Georg gently brushed away the tear from her chin. "We'll free your grandma. Don't worry."

Hearing him brought her back to the present and the Inner Circle's debate rained down on her. Only now did she realize how fiercely the witches were arguing with each other.

"He wants to trap us, il traditore," Eduardo cried out.

"Never!" Anna interjected, giving him a reproachful look. "Tom wouldn't do that. We can trust his word."

"The way he trusted us?" the Italian countered.

"I'm not surprised he kept his origins to himself." Von Donnersberg tugged at his white beard. "Hardly any of us would have ever believed him."

Eduardo gestured wildly with his hands, causing Susana and Manuel, who were sitting next to him, to back away. "And rightly so. He's a von Eisenfels. Everything he's heard here, all our names and our abilities, he'll betray to our enemy — if he hasn't already been doing so all these years."

"No, he hasn't." Anna pointed her long fingernail accusingly at Mayla, as if she were the guilty party. "She's the only reason he felt compelled to go to the hunters."

"Give me a break," Georg barked. "No one forced him to take that step. It was only a matter of time before the truth came out. Even he must have realized that."

Anna's eyes blazed with anger. "He believed he owed her something. That was the only reason he put himself in danger."

That was enough. How long was this going to continue? Mayla stood up abruptly, causing all conversation to fall silent. "We don't have time for such arguments. We have to free my grandmother from the hidden fold tonight!"

"But what about von Eisenfels?" Matthew interjected. "If the hunters try to liberate him tonight, we must prevent them from doing so at all costs! He must not be allowed to go free again."

"My grandma will die if we don't get her out tonight. It's the only opportunity."

Von Donnersberg looked around the room. "Except for a member of the founding families, no one will succeed in preventing Vincent from escaping."

Those present fell silent and looked at Mayla, conflicted. She read hope in some faces, and in others she saw disappointment and distrust. But she did not let that faze her. "I will free my grandma! There's no question about it."

"But if it's a trap..." ventured Susana.

"I'll take that risk."

Matthew took the floor again. "The reason we came together was to put an end to von Eisenfels and his machinations. Melinda wouldn't have wanted us to let him escape because of her."

"I'm not sacrificing my grandma for that murderer!"

"There's someone else who can stop him," Georg muttered, drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. "Alessia De Fonte, the head witch of the Water Circle. I will go to her and explain the situation."

"I'll go with you," John boomed immediately, rolling up his sleeves. "I used to belong to the Water Circle, too."

Mayla looked at Georg doubtfully. "Isn't that too dangerous? After all, you're on the run."

"I am on the run from the police, they even took away my signet ring, but I didn't break the rules of the circle."

"That's how we all lost our signet ring, damn!" John slapped Georg on the shoulder and winked at Mayla. "I'll take care of the cop."

"You'd best be going now!" von Donnersberg advised. "We need as many heads as possible to come up with the plan for tonight. And some of them will find it easier to get involved in the rescue operation if they know Alessia will be confronting Vincent."

Angelika snorted contemptuously. "I wouldn't hope for that. For decades, Alessia has only cared about herself."

Matthew shook his head. "Tom may be trying to set us up — and we're walking right into their trap."

"That's slander," Anna fumed. Mayla smiled involuntarily at how faithfully Anna defended him. "Tom would never do anything like that. If he says we have to free Melinda tonight, then we should do it."

"You'd blindly jump off a cliff after him, wouldn't you?" Eduardo retorted.

The comment infuriated Mayla and she slammed her fist on the table, and with that the arguing died back down again. "Whoever wants to accompany me to the south of England tonight is welcome. End of debate!"

As another discussion threatened to break out, von Donnersberg raised his hand angrily. "I will accompany Mayla tonight and help in any way to free Melinda. Those who want to help us may stay. Those who will merely make senseless assumptions and not analyze Tom's message objectively can leave this room immediately."

Upset, Eduardo and Anna narrowed their eyes and continued to glare at each other, but they kept their mouths shut. The others exchanged meaningful glances.

The lord of the castle glanced around. No one stood up, and no one continued to argue if Tom was setting them up or who was to blame for what. Von Donnersberg clasped his hands together. "All of us are standing by your side, Mayla. But we need a good plan."

∞

Together, Georg and John jumped to Italy to the headquarters of the Water Circle, where Alessia De Fonte and her descendants had been hiding for decades. The others spent the day running through possible scenarios and making contingency plans for every eventuality they could imagine. They formed groups and devised a plan to penetrate the hidden world-fold. They didn't know what to expect, only that it was about the size of Frankfurt, and this made planning enormously difficult.

Georg and John returned to the castle in time for lunch. Their enraged expressions spoke volumes. Von Donnersberg immediately confronted them. "She's not helping us?"

Georg shook his head. "She hasn't changed at all. Ever since what happened more than thirty years ago, she's isolated herself and evaded all responsibility."

"I'm sure you're no longer wondering why I didn't mind them taking my signet ring, right?" John grinned half-heartedly.

"I've marveled at her inaction for years, too. It scares me that she only sees the power she was born with, but not the responsibility."

Curious, Mayla approached and looked at the men seriously. "So von Eisenfels will escape tonight..."

The three men looked at her with icy expressions and nodded. Von Donnersberg tugged at his white beard. "It's incredible how he managed to plan all this from the fold. Who was he communicating with? Who was able to cross the borders?"

Mayla and Georg glanced at each other. "It was his spirit animal."

"His spirit animal?" Von Donnersberg clutched his coat. "Is that true?"

Mayla nodded. "At least, that seems to be Tom's theory. He was alarmed when I told him that a crow had been following me for weeks."

"Fair enough, the animal can get to and from him and they can communicate with each other through feelings and images," John pointed out. "Anything the crow observed, it probably communicated to him, but the bird couldn't get out what he was thinking or planning. How could it talk to anyone else about the plans he came up with?"

"I'm wondering about that too," von Donnersberg mused aloud.

They joined the others and ate lunch. Angelika and Pierre, who had not let the tension get the better of their enthusiasm for cooking, served them a dish of ravioli and vegetables they had prepared with a few flicks of their wands. The witches devoured their portions and immediately turned their attention back to the preparations for the evening's rescue.

In the afternoon, Angelika took Mayla aside and they retired to the two armchairs in front of the fireplace. Although it was pleasantly warm outside, there was a pervasive cold in the castle, which was why the open fireplace was still burning even in May.

"Mayla, if Tom is right, which we assume he is, and your grandmother is locked in a magical prison, it will not be easy to free her. We will practice the necessary spell for you to master. Try to do as little magic as possible and use your powers wisely, or they may not be enough."

Eager to learn, Mayla crossed her legs and leaned forward. "What is the spell?"

"It is complex and part of ancient magic that is not actually used today." She pulled a slim book from the folds of her dress. The title, "Mechthild von Siegen: Traditional Knowledge of Ancient Magic," was difficult to read despite the burgundy letters. The spine was creased in several places and the corners were dog-eared. The edges of the book were stained and the paper yellowing.

"What does 'ancient magic' mean?"

"Magic as it was in the olden times before it was divided for the covens. Magic in its pure and original form."

"Do you have any more books from back then?"

"No, I only possess this edition. My great-grandmother discovered it in a used bookstore and acquired it for our family library."

"How old is the book?"

"I would guess over four hundred years. I'm afraid it's not a witch book from that time, but a compilation of old sayings from the bygone era. At least there's a chapter on the Exsugo spell Tom mentioned." She leafed through it carefully until she reached the section she was looking for. "Here, read for yourself."

Mayla took the old book with the necessary reverence.

The Exsugo Spell:

The Exsugo Spell is an ancient curse that predates the founding of the four covens, when the witch world was unstructured and ancient feuds turned families against one another. With the help of this spell, one witch is able to deprive another of their magical abilities. The result is death.

Mayla glanced up, alarmed. "Death... It says it here, too. Tom was telling the truth. My grandma will die if we don't free her tonight."

Angelika stroked the silken fabric of her dress with apparent calm, but her jaw tightened. "She will, yes."

Taking a deep breath, Mayla turned her attention back to the text.

The Exsugo spell could be used directly on the witch. This, however, required great magic powers. Common practice, apparently, was to transfer the curse to a prison. A witch locked in such a cell would grow weaker with each passing day until the last spark of magic had been sucked out of them and they died.

No records have been preserved about how the curse is cast.

Mayla looked at Angelika. "Von Eisenfels must have figured it out."

"Yes, apparently. And he will have passed on the knowledge to his family and coven members."

Mayla read on attentively.

However, there are passages in ancient books that reveal how to break such a prison: The Fusion of Ancient Magic.

She frowned. "Again, ancient magic. Can you tell me more about it?"

Angelika leaned back in the chair and folded her hands together over her stomach. "Before there were the four covens, all witches and wizards were united. They were all part of the same magic, drawing their powers from the same source. With the founding of the four covens, the magic was divided. I don't know more details. There is another chapter about the unification of the old magic, which we can look at in a moment. In any case, four witches from the four different covens must come together. Once they have combined their powers, together they cast the spell that breaks the prison."

"Okay, I get that. So, I'm a fire witch, Georg is a water witch." She turned to the round table where the remainder of the Inner Circle members were planning and discussing. "We still need an air witch and an earth witch."

Angelika pointed to Anna Nowak. "She is the only earth witch in our trusted circle. And as for air witches, we have Nora Andersson, Thomas Winkler, and Pierre Dubois."

"Anna Nowak is the only earth witch? It would be good to have a backup in case something happens to her along the way. Isn't there someone among those who were at the big evening round?"

"We don't know which of them is a police informant or an informer for the forbidden coven."

"I thought you trusted the people here?"

Angelika nodded. "Marianna Lauber was the informer in the Inner Circle we were searching for. We have to be careful, but we also mustn't get carried away with treating each other only with suspicion. We all bonded with each other for a reason. We want to maintain the foundation of order and thus peace in our world. I am convinced that none of those present here is an informer for the hunters."

"What about the police?"

"I don't think so either."

"Okay, so Anna is the only earth witch..."

"Exactly. I think for a water witch you'll pick Georg, right? And Thomas, Nora, or Pierre should also be told."

"I'll take care of it. But first, I want to know how the spell works." Once again, she bent over the old book and stuck a finger between the pages she had just been reading. She searched the table of contents for the other chapter and flipped to the appropriate page.

The Fusion of Ancient Magic.

For the fusion of ancient magic, four witches or wizards, one from each coven, must come together and join hands. They must all feel the desire to unite as well as feel their cohesion and togetherness in their hearts.

Hopefully, they could succeed — even if they had only known each other for such a short time!

When they feel the connection, they must speak the following spell:

Aer et terra,

ignis et aqua,

nostro iussu,

foedus facite!

Mayla thought about it and she loosely translated the wording to "air and earth, fire and water, ally yourselves because we demand it." Intrigued, she bent over the old writing again.

The more powerful the partial elements of magic, the more powerful they are as a whole.

"It's good," Angelika explained, "that you are a member of one of the founding families. Hopefully that will suffice."

"It has to! That was all that is written about it." She flipped the book back to the chapter on the Exsugo spell and ran her finger across the page until she found the line where she had stopped reading.

The united magic must speak the following spell: 'Anathema rumpe!' This spell must be repeated several times and with the help of metal, the prisoner can be freed from the Exsugo cage.

Angelika pointed to the magic spell. "Anathema rumpe means..."

"Break up, spell, or something like that."

Astonished, the lady of the castle looked at her. "You understand?"

"Yes, Georg taught me a lot of Latin before he was captured. And I've been reading a lot in the Witchcraft 101 and the herbal book lately. All those spells have taught me quite a bit of Latin."

The lady of the castle nodded appreciatively. "That's good, Mayla. I see you are on your way."

She smiled at Angelika. "May I keep the book?"

"Only until we leave. I'd like it back before then."

"Thank you." She rose and walked to the blackboard. The first thing she wanted to do was to brief Anna and Pierre so they could talk quietly about how to proceed and how to merge the old magic. Mayla headed right for them and Anna immediately looked at her as if she sensed Mayla wanted to discuss something with her.

"Anna, may I speak to you for a moment, please?"

"What is it?"

"In order to free my grandma from the prison that is stealing her powers, we need to bring the ancient magic together. I understand you're the only earth witch here."

Anna's eyes widened for a moment. "Merge the old magic? Are you serious? That's dangerous. Even I don't know if there are any spells left that could get it to work."

"There are," Susana confirmed, wrapping a long dark brown strand of hair around one of her fingers. "Only a few works mention them, but I read one once." She looked with interest at the book Mayla was hugging to her chest. "Is that an old witch book? Where did you get it?"

"I borrowed it from Angelika."

Anna looked over at the lady of the castle, who was still sitting in front of the fireplace, lost in thought. "We mustn't leave Melinda to the von Eisenfels family. I'll help you. But first I want to know exactly what we have to do."

"Very well. Follow me and I will explain to you and the others how the spell works."

Anna rose, gave Susana a quick wave, and walked with Mayla to the others. "You're a fire witch, your cop friend is a water witch, and I'm an earth witch. We still need someone to represent air."

"Right. I was going to ask Pierre."

"I suggest we ask not only him but also Thomas and Nora. That way, if someone suddenly becomes unavailable, they can be easily replaced."

They called Georg, Thomas, Nora, John, and Pierre together and the seven settled down at the end of the table, where they could talk undisturbed. Mayla showed the others the book and the sections that dealt with the Exsugo spell and the unification of ancient magic.

Thomas, Nora, and Pierre decided Pierre would cast the spell and the other two would stand by in case of an emergency. The part of the water wizard would be Georg's responsibility, while John would remain close by as a substitute. The two were getting along well — they'd talked about the latest soccer games of the season on their trip to the Water Circle headquarters and acted as if they had known each other for years.

They had no one to replace Mayla. As the only witch from a founding family, her powers were indispensable. There was no replacement for Anna either, but she'd emphasized several times that Mayla could rely on her.

Ever since they'd had their conversation, the feeling between the two of them had changed. Mayla was pleased to see how well they could work together. Anna gave some constructive suggestions, was focused, and was apparently as motivated as Mayla to free her grandma from the clutches of the forbidden coven. She gave her a smile and was pleased to see Anna return it.

As if her grandmother had guessed what task had awaited Mayla, she'd instructed her to find the heir to the Air Circle. Darn it. She could have used him, but now it was too late to search for him. They'd have to succeed without him. As soon as her grandmother was free again, she'd immediately start looking for him — even if she had no idea where to begin.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The day flew by. The large grandfather clock in the castle hall struck eight and the general nervousness increased. All the members of the Inner Circle were preparing themselves for the rescue.

Von Donnersberg brought out an atlas that indicated all the known world-folds. The hidden fold where Melinda von Flammenstein was being held was on the Jurassic Coast, close to Exmouth and near a picturesque beach called Sandy Bay. Exmouth itself had several folds, as was common for any major city, but the distance from there was too far and they would lose too much time.

Only one commonly known fold was found in Sandy Bay, and it was within a vacation home development. According to Angelika, several witches had complained that the few cottages booked up quickly each summer, so they had pressed Melinda to create a world-fold there. Years ago, the head witch had agreed and secured a piece of this idyllic stretch of coastline in the form of a fold. They spent vacations there together with normal people who had no idea that the beachgoers alongside them possessed magical powers.

They wanted to jump into this fold and approach the hidden world-fold on foot from there. Since no one but the von Donnersbergs, Mayla, and Nora possessed an amulet key, they jumped together to the south of England.

Georg was settling in nicely with the group. He was open, fun, and he sought the company of the others, chatting with all of them in turn. By the time they left for the south of England, most of them had gotten to know him better and their initial objections to having a policeman accompany them had passed.

Violett gave him admiring glances that he didn't seem to notice and even Anna once made him laugh so loudly that von Donnersberg looked up in irritation. Only Eduardo de Luca kept his distance, as if he resisted succumbing to his charm and wit as much as the others.

When the time came, Georg sauntered up to Mayla. He winked at her and took her left hand. "Are you ready?"

She nodded. It felt good to have him back. He was her friend. A friend like she'd always wanted. Things felt easier with him and she breathed a little more freely. With Georg, the task ahead seemed doable although the shock of Tom's revelation still burned in her soul.

Suddenly a warmth flowed through her and she paused. A feeling of devotion enveloped her heart and she thought she heard a subtle mewing in her mind. She closed her eyes and smiled. Karl. Did he sense that she was putting herself in danger? That she was leaving on a mission with an uncertain outcome and he couldn't be with her? In her mind, she sent him as much confidence as she could muster. The little guy shouldn't worry. How wonderful it would be when he was finally with her...

With a self-assured smile, she stood with the others. Violett, Matthew, and John joined them and then she thought, 'Perduce nos ad sinum arenosum.'

They landed on the lawn amidst white-painted cottages built all over the place that almost all looked the same: elongated bungalows with floor-to-ceiling windows and wraparound wooden porches. On one of them there sat a couple of witches in deck chairs. They glanced up in surprise when they noticed the fifteen people appear before they leaned back and murmured in annoyance, "Oh, no, a tour group. Now the peace and quiet is over."

Grinning, Mayla walked with the others toward the coast. It probably would have been wiser to jump at a later time.

The wind grew fiercer the closer they got to the sea. It loosened strands from her clip, and they fluttered wildly around her face. Her excitement mounted as she trudged along the coast with the others, the wild sea to her right, until von Donnersberg raised his arm.

"See over there? That's the headland called Straight Point. Once we pass that, we'll find the hidden fold."

Mayla looked searchingly at the promontory and the grass along the coast, but could not see anything out of the ordinary. Hopefully they would be able to open it.

"We'll wait until the sun has set. According to Tom, that's when the hunters will leave to rescue Vincent. That will be when she's the least protected. If we're lucky, it won't be noticed that we've rescued her until we're already back home."

And when they arrived at the castle, Vincent von Eisenfels would be free again...

Mayla's pulse quickened. Georg sensed it immediately.

"Are you all right?"

"No. It's not fair. Either I prevent von Eisenfels from escaping the fold or I save my grandmother's life. How on Earth did he manage to this this up so cleverly while exiled in the fold?"

"He's stronger than we could have imagined. However, we can't rule out the possibility that someone else did it for him. We shouldn't make him more powerful than he is."

She gave him a thoughtful look. "You're right. Still, I'd rather he stayed locked in that cursed fold forever!"

"I wish there was something we could do too, but the only ones who would be able to stop him from escaping, besides you and your grandma, are Alessia De Fonte and her descendants, and they're hiding like cowards in the Water Witches' headquarters as if the matter did not concern them and as if von Eisenfels would not be able to get to them sooner or later.

"How could I have turned a blind eye to their inactivity all these years? I just obediently followed them, as I was taught to do by my parents and my superiors and instructors in the police force. There was more than one incident when Alessia flexed her power while shirking her responsibilities as head witch."

"Reproaches won't do any good now. At least, you've realized it."

"But she and her family are the only ones who could stop von Eisenfels tonight."

"Or the Air heir. He could, too." Angry at herself, she punched her fist into the air. "That's why my grandma wanted me to find him. He could have prevented all this. If only I hadn't been so certain Tom was the last Montgomery, I would have kept looking and tracked him down."

"Reproaches won't do any good now." Mayla looked at Georg, who grinned. "Hey, it goes both ways. Or do you think just because you're a von Flammenstein, different rules apply to you?"

"No, but... I have the same responsibilities as Alessia."

"Mayla, don't be so hard on yourself. Anyone would choose as you did and free their loved ones — no matter what else was happening in the world at the same time. Life always comes first. And your grandma is not only your last living relative, she is also one of the most powerful witches. We need her in the fight against the von Eisenfels family. No one here wants to sacrifice her — especially since it's highly doubtful that your powers would even be enough to prevent Vincent from escaping."

Taking a deep breath, she gazed out at the endless horizon. The water was calm, in stark contrast to her feelings. "I know my decision is the right one. Still, I hope that... she will see it that way too."

"Your grandma will agree, trust me."

A violent gust filled her nose with the scent of saltwater and with it, the thought of Tom. She looked longingly over at the headland, which had the same innocent appearance for her as it did for all other people. Was that why he smelled of saltwater? Because he came here often?

The sky behind them was turning pink and the sun was touching the horizon. The moon had long since risen and glowed silver against the darkening firmament. They waited in silence, no one making a sound. Everyone gathered expectantly for the unknown, the unforeseeable that awaited them in the hidden fold. Was it a city? A castle? How many witches lived there? Or was it only hunters? Only the von Eisenfels family? How many members did the family have?

When von Donnersberg gave the signal, they lined up next to each other and drew their wands. Mayla directed her hands at the hidden fold and together with the others murmured, "Te aperi, munde contracte!"

A dazzling flash tore through the air, growing taller and taller. The light was dazzling and Mayla closed her eyes for a moment, only to immediately open them again excitedly. It looked as if the air was ripping in two, as if it were breaking open. Suddenly, the lightning burst outward, pushing the grasslands, the cliffs, and the sea to the sides to make way for another world.

Before them appeared a mountain with a meadow on its slopes, its vegetation reaching above their knees. It was not a great mountain, but rather a large hill with a stately country estate on it, the kind Mayla had only seen in pictures. It was a multi-story structure built of dark stone and of such enormous dimensions that the structure could have covered a soccer field. Wide staircases led from two sides to the spacious terrace, from which one could enter the magnificent building through a large, wide iron gate.

It was quiet in the world-fold. No one was walking across the lawn, no one was on the terrace or peering out of any of the yellow-tinted windows, some of which were cracked. The whole property looked uninhabited, as if its glory days were long behind it. It exuded an ominous atmosphere. An intangible threat hung in the air, as if horror was lying in wait behind the closed doors.

Shivering, Mayla hunched her shoulders. "Where are the hunters? Or the inhabitants of the... house? Can you even call that a house?"

Without taking his eyes off the building, Georg murmured, "We'll meet them soon enough."

Together, they crept closer to the structure with their heads down, as if that would make them less likely to be seen.

"There's a spell we can use to make ourselves invisible, isn't there?" Mayla mused aloud.

"We need to conserve our energy. If this mansion is protected by a spell, the alarm will go off regardless if we are seen or not."

Everyone stayed close together as they crept up the hill. The sun gradually disappeared and darkness spread across the property. An owl hooted. Mayla looked beside the country estate where there were tall fir trees growing, their tops and branches swaying back and forth in the coastal wind. At the very top sat two owls. "Are they yours?"

Georg nodded. "The other looks like the one that tried to warn us at Melinda's house. I think it's your grandma's owl."

Following this explanation, Mayla waited a little for Kitty to come streaking around the corner. But she'd probably never do that again. She had to watch out for little Karl and his baby sister. And once they were weaned, Kitty would have nothing to do with her. She was Tom's spirit animal and he was now on the... other side... wasn't he?

Stop. She shouldn't think about that or let it drag her down. She had to free her grandma. Now. Otherwise, she would die.

They did not approach the main entrance. It was secured with a gate of iron, the element of the von Eisenfels family — no one would ever be able to force their way in. With watchful eyes, they circled the stately building, where still nothing moved.

"We need to find a weak spot." Nora and Matthew had pointed that out at the afternoon meeting when summarizing their plan. They hadn't known what was in the fold, but it stood to reason that Melinda was being held captive in some kind of structure.

"How do we detect a weak spot?" Violett asked.

"That would be a place," Angelika had explained, "without any iron or other metal. That's how we can get into the building where Melinda is being held. Once inside, we'll have to improvise. Whatever we encounter, the motto is to split up as little as possible. We are strongest together. Should we be attacked, Nora, Susana, Manuel, and I will take care of the protection spell. Violett, Thomas, and Matthew will bring up the rear. Mayla, Anna, Pierre, and Georg will stay in the middle so they can conserve their strength. And Artus, Eduardo, and John will lead.

"Once we find Melinda's prison, Mayla, Georg, Anna, and Pierre will set about breaking the Exsugo spell. The rest of us will protect them, come what may. The main thing is that no one discovers us before we find Melinda."

That was their plan.

Von Donnersberg pointed to the north and they hurried in unison behind him and circled the house. The sun was setting and the last rays were illuminating the well-secured estate. The building stood on a stone foundation, so there was no access to a basement. The few windows that existed on the first floor had bars. The back of the estate looked no less imposing. They didn't discover a single door that wasn't covered with iron.

Mayla craned her neck to search the upper floors for a way in when she discovered a small balcony under a gable on the third or fourth floor. Surely, that was a possibility! Shoot! How were they going to get up there? Wait a minute. Tom had climbed the walls of buildings several times — when they'd fled from the hunters in her apartment, he had shown Georg and her how he did it.

She pointed to the balcony, which the others had also discovered. "Our entrance is waiting up there. We can use the Commove spell to dislodge individual chunks of stone a bit from the masonry to use as holes for our hands and feet."

John studied the facade thoroughly. "It's worth a try." He raised his wand and murmured, "Commove!" With this, stone steps emerged from the wall. They were half a foot deep at most, but close enough together that it could be managed. He climbed first and when he had made a good bit of progress, Mayla started behind him. It was darn high — even higher than when she had scrambled out of her apartment with Tom and Georg. But going up was easier than down.

She looked down, peering under her outstretched arm. Whoa, that was a long way. She quickly raised her head again and climbed up after John, who was swinging over the stone railing of the balcony. He was an athlete, so he made it look easy. She took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. It was probably the smallest test of courage she would have to endure tonight. She kept climbing, brick by brick, until she reached the balcony. One, two, three. Her left hand clawed at the railing, but it was so wide she couldn't get a firm hold. Her hand slipped. Wow! Her gaze went down. How far down was it? John grabbed her wrist and pulled her up. Her pulse raced through her body at an unhealthy gallop as she crawled trembling over the railing. When she finally had solid footing under her feet, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Immediately after her, Georg scaled the balcony and, like her, turned his attention to the glass door, the last obstacle standing between them and the interior of the stately residence.

John assisted the others, who pushed onto the balcony behind them. Gradually, it became crowded. Mayla raised her hands to charm open the door, but Georg stopped her. "Let me. You should conserve your strength. Only use it if you have to — that way you'll have more power to free your grandma." He pulled the wand from the back pocket of his jeans. "Aperi." The glass door swung open without any resistance and he stepped across the threshold. Mayla followed.

By now it was so dark outside that the little light shining into the room through the balcony door was useless. Mayla spotted a candle in a small brass stand and blew on it. Georg lifted it up by the brass base.

"You're supposed to be conserving your strength."

"There's no need to overdo it. As a fire witch, it's no problem for me to create a small flame! By the way, you need to conserve your energy too — we need you for the spell."

"I can be replaced, you cannot."

The flickering light of the small flame illuminated the clunky furniture that was covered in white cloths. Cobwebs stretched across corners and a thick layer of dust covered the floor.

"No one has been here in a long time. I wonder if this is actually the place my grandma is being held."

"We'll find out." Determined, Georg marched to the door and Mayla tiptoed after him. It wasn't locked and immediately sprang open when he put his hand on the handle. By the light of the candle, they saw they were in a long hallway that led to an open stairwell. Its broad steps wound like a spiral from the first floor up to the roof.

Mayla bent over the railing and peered down into the darkness and back up. She saw nothing but gloom. Nowhere did she hear anyone screaming. None of the shadows glittered with sparks that revealed that a powerful ancient spell had been cast in this mansion. She looked at Georg, whose face was bathed in the warm light of the flame.

"Now what?" he asked.

Behind them, Angelika and Artus came creeping down the hall.

"Can we use the Inveni spell to locate my grandma?"

Angelika shrugged her narrow shoulders. "Try it. Since you're related, it might work."

Mayla imagined her grandma and thought, 'Inveni.' She waited, but no sparks flew from her fingertips to show her the way. "Apparently, we have to find her the old-fashioned way." She was about to take the candle from Georg when Angelika grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Look." The old witch pointed to her wand and gently blew on it. A small flame formed over its tip. "You can do that with your hands too."

"Without burning myself?"

"Of course. I've seen your grandmother and mother do it countless times. Go on, try it."

Hopefully, Angelika was right. Feeling rather queasy, Mayla imagined a small flame on her fingertip and blew gently on it. As the small fire ignited, she experienced no pain. The flame followed the movement of her hand, dancing incessantly on her fingertip — yet Mayla felt no heat. Fascinated, she held her finger in front of her eyes and observed the spectacle. If her parents had seen this, they would have reconsidered reprimanding her so often when she had played with matches. She felt a sting run through her, but before the memory of Peter and Anneliese Falk could sadden her, she ran down the stairs. Somewhere in these old walls was her grandmother. It was time to finally free her.

The others followed close on her heels. The next floor down was as dark as the previous one. They wandered down the hall and listened at closed doors, though not a sound was heard. At the end of the hallway, they spotted another door that they almost missed. Mayla pressed her ear to the damp wood and was about to turn away again when... wait, someone was talking. Wide-eyed, she signaled to the others that somebody was behind the door.

Georg stepped next to her and listened. He nodded slowly and turned to the others. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he raised his wand. Without knowing what was going on, Mayla thought, 'Tutare!' and a protective shield formed around the group. Not a second later, bright flashes of light shot toward them and pelted the shield. From behind, three men approached. The tips of their wands lit up in the darkness each time they cast the next malediction.

Angelika sprang next to Mayla and put her hand on her arm, simultaneously lifting her wand. Mayla felt it becoming easier to maintain the shield. Angelika had reinforced her spell and together they sealed off the group from the attackers.

"When I say now, you stop, Mayla. You must conserve your strength. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Now."

She lowered her hands and Nora and Manuel lined up next to Angelika to reinforce their protection.

"Alarm!" one of the attackers shouted. With that, all the candles on the walls throughout the house lit up. The door they had been listening at burst open and six hunters rushed out. Drawing their wands, they pushed them back with their maledictions. Trapped between the two groups, they had nothing to do but take the stairs down.

They had to stay close together and walk slowly so that Angelika, Nora, and Manuel could maintain the shield around them. This caused them to lose valuable time.

"Shoot! Look!" Violett pointed down at the next level they were heading towards, where hunters were also starting to appear.

"Intruders!" screeched a woman who seemed familiar to Mayla. She scrutinized her until it dawned on her. The woman wasn't wearing glasses or a brown cardigan. Her black hair was not pinned up in an old-fashioned knot with a nibbled pencil stuck in it but fell loose over her shoulders. And the look from the hazel eyes was as probing as that of an old acquaintance.

"Marianna Lauber!"

Chapter Twenty-Five

Marianna Lauber raised her eyes and an unusual smile appeared on her symmetrical face. Her brown eyes flashed as she tossed her long black hair over her shoulders.

"So we meet again, heiress of the fire witches. I would have loved to have taken you aside and sucked out your sweet founding powers back at Donnersberg Castle. Unfortunately, the plan foresaw a different fate for you. Since you have eluded the hunters in your home, I have the pleasure of absorbing your powers." She raised her wand and hurled a malediction at them, causing them all to stumble on the stairs despite the protective spell. Why the hell was she so strong?

Nora, Angelika, and Manuel fell over each other and the protection shield around them crumbled. Mayla was the only one standing, and she raised her hands. "Dearmo!" she screamed, and Marianna's wand slipped from her hands. But before it could fly away, another caught it with a spell and returned it to Marianna.

At the same time, a curse from above hit Pierre, who lay writhing on the ground, holding his chest. He gasped for air and panted as if he was about to suffocate.

"Tutare!" Mayla and Violett cried out, as if they'd planned it in advance, and the shield flared up around them and Angelika immediately bent over Pierre.

"It's the Pressa curse. Again. We have to get him out of here."

Von Donnersberg crouched down by his wife and Pierre. He felt his chest and forehead, which broke out in beads of sweat. "You're right." He beckoned Eduardo to him and placed his protective amulet around his neck. "Take him home."

The Italian squatted down next to Pierre and clasped the amulet.

Angelika rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. Although she was in the midst of battle, her hair and clothing were impeccable. "I still have some of the necessary potion. It's in the castle kitchen! You know how to administer it?"

Eduardo nodded. He looked at Violett and Mayla, who only glanced at him briefly so as not to break their concentration. "The only way I can jump is if you break the protective spell, since it's wrapped completely around us."

Mayla took a deep breath and exchanged a quick glance with Violett. The hunters seemed to be waiting for them to drop the shield. Well, they had no choice — Pierre was going to suffocate. They had to risk it.

Inhaling deeply, she nodded to Eduardo and looked at Violett, who blinked her eyes. At the same time, they made the shield disappear. Immediately, Georg, Angelika, Nora, and Matthew hurled the disarming spell at Marianna and the other hunters, who unfortunately had charmed a shield in front of themselves. Eduardo wrapped his arm around Pierre and disappeared with a faint sparkle. All that remained was his unmistakable peppermint scent.

Immediately, von Donnersberg and Georg sent up a new shield around them. Nora and Susana stood next to them, grabbed their free hands, and with raised wands supported them with their magic.

"I knew Tom wouldn't forget you," purred Marianna, who was enthroned amidst the hunters as if she occupied a higher position among them. "When he came to us to reveal his true origins, I immediately distrusted him! That's why I and a few people stayed here to give you a little surprise."

"Why is she so strong?" Georg murmured.

"Perhaps she killed other witches and robbed them of their powers. With each murder, her powers grow darker and more unpredictable," the lord of the castle whispered.

"How are we going to get past them?" Susana muttered.

"Perhaps we should retreat and..." Thomas suggested.

"No way!" Mayla looked at them, one after the other. "We have to free my grandma. I won't leave this country estate without her." She strained to find an escape route. She was peering over the railing when an idea finally came to her. She leaned toward Angelika and whispered in her ear, "If we jump down together, we could use the Vola spell to decelerate our fall. What do you think?"

Angelika looked discreetly over the railing and back at Mayla. She gulped but was in agreement. "It's our only chance. If the two of us do it together, it might succeed." She whispered the plan to the others, and they all looked down a little nervously. They had to move quickly before their expressions gave them away.

Georg and von Donnersberg inconspicuously positioned themselves closer to the banister, extending the protective spell around them, and without a moment's hesitation, Mayla leaped over the railing. "Vola!" She slowed a little, but not slow enough. Angelika descended after her effortlessly, but even she could not break her fall. They rushed toward the ground at breakneck speed.

"Together, Mayla!" the old witch shouted, and straining, they thought, 'Vola.' With this, their pace slowed a little, but not nearly enough for them to land unharmed on the ground. Darn it, this couldn't be the end!

Just before they hit the ground, their descent slowed and they sailed the last few meters to the ground like leaves in autumn. Someone who had also cast the Vola spell was standing there. A large shadow scurried away the moment Angelika and Mayla landed on the cold tiles.

Who was that? Tom? They couldn't run after him because Anna, Manuel, and Susana were already rushing toward the floor. "Vola!" Mayla and Angelika shouted, and the three floated gently to the ground. As soon as their footing was secure, they cast a protective spell so they couldn't be attacked while the next ones took the plunge. The last at the top were John and Georg, who broke the protective spell around themselves and jumped simultaneously over the railing as if they had rehearsed it for months.

"After them!" Marianna yelled, leaning over the banister as the hunters shot maledictions downward.

Mayla, Angelika, and Violett were already searching the hallway where they had landed.

"There was a shadow!" Mayla pointed to the corridor where the stranger had disappeared. "I think it was Tom."

Von Donnersberg blew on his wand and a flame appeared. It lit up the long corridor lined with oil paintings, which appeared to be portraits of the von Eisenfels family. The frames were covered with thick layers of dust. The hallway lay silent before them. Not a single movement was to be seen.

Finally, John and Georg landed on their feet. They looked around, perplexed. There were three corridors leading off from the hallway. Several maledictions hit the shield from above, urging them to hurry. Von Donnersberg pointed down the corridor where the shadow had disappeared. "If our unknown helper ran that way, we should follow. Maybe they wanted to show us the way."

They rushed down the long corridor, their footsteps muffled by an old carpet that emitted swirls of dust. Further back, a light flared momentarily only to disappear again. Wasn't there also a big shadow again? Tom? Was he here to help them? Could they trust him?

Matthew raised his wand. "Tutare!" Immediately, the bluish glow formed around them as they pressed onward. They came upon a turnoff that led down a narrow staircase into the basement.

A sense of certainty that she couldn't explain spread through Mayla. Melinda was being held captive down there. "We have to go that way. My grandma is there. I know it. Quickly!" She ran, her heels clacking on the stone steps. Ignoring the echoing sounds of her ankle boots, she rushed downstairs two steps at a time as Georg and the others raced after her.

Her grandmother was there. She knew it. And she was fighting for her life. Suddenly, an image filled Mayla's consciousness. She saw her grandma lying on the floor in a cramped cage, her hands limp and eyes closed. Her breathing was heavy and a glow was moving away from her. The hunters were stealing her magic.

Driven by the terrible vision, Mayla hunted on, followed closely by the others. It grew steadily darker. She quickly blew a flame on her fingertip to light the stairs, and when she finally reached the last one, she found herself in a low vault. The walls were exposed and in the center was in a cage where Melina von Flammenstein lay, as she'd seen in her vision.

"Grandma!" Before Mayla could conjure a shield in front of her, she was abruptly swept off her feet and thrown backward at Georg, who had just reached the vault. They fell back onto the stairs. The steps pressed into their backs and they groaned as they scrambled to their feet.

"Tutare!" Georg roared while Mayla lit the narrow space with the flame on her index finger. Two hunters rushed toward them. They wouldn't stop her from freeing her grandma. She nodded at Georg, who dropped his guard, and Mayla yelled, "Animo linquatur!" The two hunters fell to the floor like lifeless dolls, motionless. Nothing moved, no one was seen, and nobody came to the hunters' aid.

"Those seem to have been the only ones."

As if on cue, three more shadows emerged from the unlit corners and a bright flash of light shot toward them.

"Aaaahhh!" Doubled over, Mayla held her stomach.

Georg stood in front of her and lifted his wand, but before he could send up his guard, a malediction hit him, sending him to his knees.

Thomas and Nora rushed into the room and cast a shield, but they could not extend it far enough to encompass Mayla and Georg. As the spell fizzled out, a red beam hit them both in the chest and they went down, groaning.

At the same time, Angelika rushed into the room. The skirt of her dress was billowing. With a deep wrinkle of anger between her brows, she inhaled deeply and blew on the hunters. One of them dropped his wand, screaming, and held his hand but a bluish shield immediately formed in front of the others.

"Tutare!" Angelika shouted, and a large magical shield appeared in front of them. At that moment, the excruciating pain that was burning Mayla's insides finally stopped. Was it because she was behind the protective shield?

The others pushed into the vault and gathered behind the shield. Georg rose to his feet and immediately grabbed Mayla by the shoulders. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, but..." She pointed at Thomas and Nora, who lay gasping on the floor. Violett was squatting next to them, feeling their chests. The Pressa spell had also hit them, and they'd suffocate painfully if they didn't take the herbal potion as quickly as possible.

"How are we going to unite the old magic now? How are we going to free my grandma? All three air wizards have been taken out, as if they knew what we were up to."

Panicked, they looked over at the cage where Melinda lay, inanimate. Her white curls spread like a fan around her head, her legs were bent, and her hands stretched limply beside her. Only the steady glimmer of light that traveled from her small body to the bars testified that there was still some strength left in her. Mayla was so desperate that she wanted to scream. But Georg wasn't ready to give up.

"Don't we have another air witch with us?"

Angelika shook her head. "All the others are water and fire witches." She took two steps toward the cage, but von Donnersberg held her back. The three hunters in front of them were shooting incessantly at the shimmering blue shield. If she left it, she could be killed instantly. Meanwhile, Marianna and her hunters rushed down the stairs toward them and besieged them from behind.

Manuel, Susana, Matthew, and John stood by Angelika and helped her extend the shield around them. Still, the protected space was getting smaller and smaller. Their forces weren't enough. Von Donnersberg and Thomas arrived and supported them so they could hold up to the pressure from the hunters.

"We must attack!" Mayla murmured to Georg, but he shook his head.

"As soon as we break cover, we'll be hit with maledictions from behind and the front at the same time. We can't chance another one of us getting hit."

A large shadow emerged from the corner behind the cage. Tom? Was it him? Would he side with them? Or had he lured them into this trap?

But it wasn't Tom who stepped out of the shadows. It was someone else. Although Mayla had only seen the tall man a few times, she remembered him immediately. It was the leader of the hunters, who was equally charming and dangerous in appearance. He narrowed his dark eyes to slits and watched Mayla. Darn! This was the end.

The leader of the hunters raised his hands, which held no wand. A malediction shot toward them, flaring brighter than any before. He could cast spells without a wand...

"He must be a von Eisenfels," John shouted, raising his wand to strengthen the shield around them. But the curse swept over them and hit Marianna behind them, who went down screaming. Then the stranger turned to the hunters beside him and struck them down with a single malediction.

The others dropped their guard and defended themselves against Marianna's companions while Mayla looked questioningly at the stranger. She raised her hands defensively in front of her just for safety and took a step toward him. "Who...?"

"You have come to rescue Melinda von Flammenstein." It was not a question but a statement.

Mayla nodded. Out of the corner of an eye, she saw Georg raise his wand at the stranger, but she pushed it down. "Wait." She narrowed her eyes to slits. "Are you...?"

"We'll sort that out later. The moon will be full at any moment, then Vincent von Eisenfels will be free to come here. Hurry, we're running out of time."

"But we lack an air wizard to free my grandmother."

The stranger looked directly at her and she detected a green glint in his almost black eyes. "How fortunate that I am the last living descendant of the founding family of the Air Circle."

Dumbfounded, Mayla stared at him. "You're Andrew Steven Montgomery?"

"Yes, and quickly now. How can we free the head witch?"

Mayla blinked in disbelief, but then it was as if she'd flipped a switch. There was no time to lose. "We need to merge the old magic." While she quickly summarized what spell they needed to cast, Georg and Anna were lining up beside them. They held hands and closed their eyes as more maledictions were spoken at the top of the stairs, but their allies were watching their backs.

"Aer et terra,

ignis et aqua,

nostro iussu,

foedus facite."

A tingling sensation traveled through her hands as a flow of energy coursed through Mayla to the stranger and on to Georg, both of whom were holding her by the hand. A purple glow formed around them and flared up like a blazing fire.

"Hurry up, there are more coming!" Susana shouted.

Carefully, they released their hands without breaking their connection and lined up on the four sides of the cage. Mayla opened her eyes for a moment, saw her grandma lying almost dead in front of her, and quickly closed them again before the sight could break her concentration.

In a melodic chant they had not previously rehearsed, Mayla, Georg, Anna, and Andrew murmured, "Anathema rumpe, anathema rumpe!" The magic beam that indicated the magical powers were being sucked from Melinda's body subsided and then immediately resumed.

"We have to try again," Anna shouted.

Mayla wasn't going to give up so easily, either. Hadn't Angelika also mentioned something about metal? Maybe it would be enough if she grasped her chain. She immediately wrapped a hand around the golden heart. "Concentrate. We can only do it together."

Mayla and Andrew spread their fingers, Georg and Anna gripped their wands even tighter, and the purple glow flared again. It drifted around them, penetrated the cage, and settled over Melinda like a cloak.

"Anathema rumpe!"

A loud bang sounded and the sucking stopped. The Exsugo spell was broken. Still, the prisoner didn't move. Mayla rushed to the bars and pointed to the small door. "Aperi!" The prison popped open and she scrambled inside to her grandma. "Grandma, grandma, I'm here. We've freed you. It's going to be okay now." She caressed her wrinkled forehead, but the old witch did not stir. "Help me."

Georg was already reaching into the cage to gently pull the head witch of the Fire Circle toward him by the arms. Mayla pushed from the inside until her grandma was completely out of the cage. Georg lifted her and Mayla climbed out of the tiny prison in a flash.

"We've got her!" Georg exclaimed. Mayla took him by the hand and the group huddled closer. "Now!" Angelika and Artus dropped the shield around them and, following her intuition, Mayla wrapped her arm under Andrew's before grabbing her protective amulet, thinking, 'Perduce nos in arcem.'

Chapter Twenty-Six

They reached Donnersberg Castle without being hit by a malediction but still exhausted. John and Matthew carried Thomas between them into the hall. Manuel had Nora in his arms and they laid her down with Pierre, who was sleeping quietly on a bed that had been conjured up in the corner. Violett immediately poured Nora and Thomas the healing potion, which relieved their terrible pain.

Georg carried Melinda to an armchair, which Angelika transformed quick as a flash into a couch and laid her down on it. The head witch groaned softly, the first sign of life she gave, and tears welled up in Mayla's eyes, and she quickly blinked them away. She stood next to her grandma, clasped her cold hand, and kissed it. "Grandma, I'm here. You're safe now."

Angelika stepped up beside her and stroked her arm. "I'll take care of her. Get some rest. I'll call you as soon as she wakes."

Mayla nodded, trying hard not to burst into tears. She turned and saw Andrew, who was being questioned by John, Manuel, and von Donnersberg.

"You're the last living Montgomery?" Von Donnersberg folded his arms across his chest. "Prove it!"

Mayla and Georg joined in. "He helped us unite the ancient magic and he cast a spell without a wand. What more proof do you need?"

"He could also be a von Eisenfels."

"Then the spell we used to set my grandma free wouldn't have worked."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Von Donnersberg pointed to the heavy knight's armor and swords lined up against the walls. "Blow them over."

Andrew had drawn in hardly any breath before he blew gently in the indicated direction and the armor and weapons flew around the room like strips of paper. They fell to the floor, clanking and clanging loudly. "I'll show you just this once. That will have to suffice as proof. I'm not here to justify myself and explain for hours. Vincent von Eisenfels is at large again. I helped free the head witch of the Fire Circle because we can't stop him without her."

A chill shot down Mayla's spine. "Are you sure he's free again?"

Andrew pointed out the window at the full moon shining above the mountains in the dark firmament. "The moon has reached its full size," he said.

"He could have been unsuccessful because we freed my grandma and her powers are no longer being sucked out."

Andrew pointed to Melinda, who had not yet regained consciousness. "Her magic has reached a low point. She hung in there for a long time, much longer than any of them had planned. In her current state, she can't possibly hold him back."

"You were wise to mingle with them. You were the leader of the hunters." Mayla looked skeptically at Andrew. "Why did you attack me several times?"

"At first, I didn't know who you were. Then I had to keep pretending."

Was that enough of an explanation as to why he brutally assaulted her?

"You were with them?" Von Donnersberg invited him to his table. "Tell us all we need to know. There's nothing more we can do tonight anyway."

Angelika tended to Melinda, Pierre, Nora, and Thomas while everyone else went to the table to listen to Andrew's tales. Von Donnersberg had several loaves of bread, butter, ham, and cheese fly out of the castle kitchen to the table and they all ate ravenously.

Andrew kept a low profile. There was much about his life he did not want to reveal, but he did explain why he had joined the hunters four years ago. "They killed my parents. They and Vincent von Eisenfels. I knew the day would come when he would break free and continue his campaign against us and the laws of our world. That's why I mingled with them. No one knew me. No one was counting on me. I was able to spy on them without anyone giving me away. I darkened my green eyes so they wouldn't betray me and my strong magic powers helped me rise quickly in the ranks."

"Weren't any of them skeptical about your extraordinary powers?"

"The hunters were pleased. When someone powerful approaches them, they don't ask about their origins. Besides, I've been subordinate to the leaders for a long time so as not to draw attention to myself. It would have been different with von Eisenfels — I knew that."

John pulled a stack of playing cards from his pants and shuffled them to calm himself. "Who set the trap for Melinda?"

"Who gave the order, I don't know. The person has never named. Countless orders have been given to me, but I never set eyes on anyone."

Von Donnersberg tugged at his beard. "Who could it be?"

"I don't know. But this person held the strings as long as von Eisenfels was locked up. I don't know how it will be from now on."

"Maybe Marianna Lauber?" Mayla asked.

Andrew shook his head.

Von Donnersberg nodded thoughtfully. "Since he has a son, there must have been a woman at his side before he was locked up. Maybe it's her."

"Or someone who is his right-hand man..." Matthew reasoned.

"Did you find out anything about that, Andrew?" John inquired.

"Nothing. There's no talk about the family's private affairs. I had hoped to learn more before turning my back on the hunters, but since you would not have succeeded in freeing Melinda without me, I had to break my cover sooner than planned."

They talked for a while longer until everyone in the castle went to bed, one by one. Pierre, Nora, and Thomas were still feverish, so Violett and Angelika shared the night shift to administer the healing potion every hour.

Melinda still hadn't regained consciousness, but Angelika reassured Mayla. "It will take time for her to recover, but eventually she will awaken."

Mayla insisted on being placed in a room with her grandma. She wanted to stay by her side and be there when she opened her eyes. Georg was reluctant to leave her alone in the meantime, and von Donnersberg offered them two adjoining bedrooms. They were grateful and accepted. Angelika floated Melinda onto one of the beds and left the room without comment, which was unusual for someone normally so brash. Exhausted, Mayla let herself slide onto the empty bed and leaned against the headboard. Anticipating her needs, Georg took the chocolates out of her purse and held the open package out to her.

"Thank you." She took a vanilla truffle and smelled it for a long time before popping it into her mouth. The white chocolate melted on her tongue, soothing her senses. She snuggled down on the bed, her eyes never leaving her grandma. It wasn't long before she fell asleep.

Melinda stirred in the early hours of the morning. Georg, who had been watching by Mayla's side all night, nudged her. Immediately, she shot up and looked around.

"Is she awake?" When she saw her grandmother blink, she rushed to her bedside and grasped her hand. She wasn't cold anymore, but warm, and her face was no longer so pale. "Grandma?"

With infinite slowness, Melinda opened her eyes and Mayla felt like she was looking into her own. Melinda frowned until a softness came over her face and she tried to sit up.

Georg was immediately there to help her up, but Melinda slapped his fingers with unexpected ferocity. "Take your hands off me right now, you bully!"

Mayla laughed. "That's Georg. He was trying to help you."

"The day I need help getting up is a long way off."

Georg grinned. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll retire now and leave you ladies alone." Like a long-forgotten knight, he bowed and disappeared from the room.

Smiling, Mayla turned to her grandmother, who sat upright on her bed. Her cheeks had taken on a healthy blush and her eyes glowed with vitality. "How are you feeling?"

Melinda just nodded and looked at her tenderly. "Mayla, my darling." She spread her arms and the two of them squeezed each other as if they could make up for the many years of separation. They rocked each other back and forth, comforting each other wordlessly. Only after a while did they let go, and Melinda clasped her by the shoulders. "Just look at you. Goodness, you've grown so strong already. You have grown even more beautiful since magic started flowing through your veins."

Mayla smiled.

"What happened?"

She told her grandma what had transpired over the past few weeks as they ate the remaining chocolate from the box together. When she got to last night and explained to her grandma that she had to choose between stopping Vincent from escaping or saving her life, she held her breath tensely.

"Oh, sweetheart, I see you're blaming yourself."

"No, my decision was the right one. Still, it's my fault he's loose."

Melinda shook her head, her white curls bouncing around her dainty shoulders. "It's certainly not your fault. I would have made the same decision, Mayla. Rationally, it would have been wiser to keep the bastard in his fold, but the family bond is stronger than reason."

For a while, they regarded each other tenderly until Melinda glanced outside. "Is it summer already? How long was I trapped?"

"It was a couple of weeks."

"What's the date?"

Mayla pondered. "Today is May third."

"The third of May?" Melinda's gaze softened. "My darling, happy birthday."

"I completely..." She shook her head in disbelief. "I completely forgot about it."

Her grandma hugged her and kissed her on the forehead.

"Birthday or not... How do we proceed?"

Melinda sighed. For a moment, she appeared tired, but then she squared her shoulders and clenched her left hand. "We'll hear from Vincent soon enough. Then we'll know what to do. There are exciting times coming. I hope you have enough chocolates ready." She winked at her and they laughed. "But tell me one more thing, my darling. Who is this Georg?"

"He's my friend."

Melinda raised her white brows. "Your boyfriend?"

"Not that kind of a friend. We're truly just friends."

The old witch shook her white curls in disbelief. "I would have thought that a very different man would be by your side when we met again."

She looked at her grandmother sadly. "You mean Tom?"

"I would never interfere with your choice of men, but yes, I assumed it would be him."

"I... He and..." Mayla paused and collected herself. "Apparently, he wasn't completely honest with us."

"What do you mean?"

"He's the son of... of Vincent von Eisenfels."

Her grandmother frowned. "How did you learn of such a dreadful thing?"

"He told me so..."

Wordlessly, Melinda turned her head and looked out the window. The sun was touching the horizon and its reddish light streaked across the mountains surrounding the castle. She stared outside silently before she heaved a deep sigh. "It's obviously going to be even more exciting than I suspected. But that's okay, my darling. We'll figure it out."

"Aren't you worried that he spied on you and might report to his father?"

Melinda brushed the subject aside impatiently. "We'll see. Give me a day to recover. In the meantime, show me what you've already learned. From now on, I will take over your training. We must prepare ourselves for what is to come. As soon as I have regained my strength, we will pay a visit to the council and many others as well. Even though Vincent is now free again, I will fight until my last breath to make him and his allies pay for what they have done to us and other witch families!"

Epilogue

He stood on the lawn in front of the house and targeted the invisible barrier that had prevented him from escaping for over thirty years. He rarely tried to break through the magical barricade. He conserved his magic and gathered his strength so that his curses would be stronger.

He knew his people had caught the old fire witch. And she was growing weaker. With each passing day. He had expected her granddaughter to appear again. It had been clear that as the old woman's powers weakened, so would the spell that had blocked her magic. It was part of his plan. As soon as he escaped, he would destroy them both — if the old one had not long since died in her prison.

Every day, he watched her granddaughter. Followed her at almost every turn — without her having the faintest idea. He let out a hideous laugh. Melinda had wanted to protect her by hiding her and keeping her away from the witch world, but that had only made her granddaughter weaker. She had no idea what she was capable of, no practice, and hardly any knowledge. Murdering her would be easy for him. Downright boring.

He raised his hands and fired a beam of red light to break the fold. Something happened that made his sneer grow even wider. The shield around the fold wobbled. His malediction hadn't bounced off like it had all those years before. No, he had left a mark. He raised his hands again. He cast one destructive spell after another, over and over, to break down the invisible wall that shielded him from the outside world. It vibrated and flared up.

Taking great strides, he trudged toward the obstacle. He reached the point where he encountered something hard and impenetrable. He pushed against it repeatedly, as he had countless times over the years. Did it just move? Was the shield around the world-fold giving way?

Again, he raised his hands to cast the next curse on the same spot and again it did not bounce off but penetrated the invisible wall.

He raised his head and looked up, confident that victory would be his. The full moon was only a few moments away. In a moment, his time would arrive. Yes, soon he would be at large again and then he would hunt them down. All the members of the old founding families who were still alive. And all those who had tried to stop him. All who had stood in his way. He would wipe them out until there was no one left. And then nothing would stand in the way of his plans.

Laughing, he turned to the house that was supposed to have been his undoing. But it hadn't been. How much time had he spent in there, watching and learning, contemplating and waiting? He'd waited so patiently, like only one who was certain of victory would do.

When the shimmering silver moon reached its full size, it was time. The magic pulsed within him, burning through his veins, just waiting to finally work without limitations.

His pulse remained steady as the long-awaited moment began. He raised his hands, straightened up to his full height, and lifted his head. With his fingers pointed at the magical barrier, he cast the destructive curse that had not worked all these years, but this time would create his path to freedom.

The gleaming red light hit the invisible wall that separated this world-fold from the rest of the world. It remained in one spot, boring into the wall until a hole formed. It frayed along the sides, growing larger and making the barrier more permeable all around.

From the outside, more lightning bolts shot toward the invisible wall. Then more and more. The protection around the fold crumbled and fell away like the pollen from a park bench under a pelting spring rain.

He had been waiting for this. At last, the moment had arrived. He stepped toward the border, lifted his chin, and without being hindered, crossed it, and put his foot down on the other side.

A roar welcomed him. Countless followers and hunters who had aided his escape from this prison with their wands surrounded the fold. When they spotted him, their faces lit up in euphoric ecstasy.

"Vincent von Eisenfels! He is free! Now our time has come!"

He stepped toward them and they bowed their heads. None of them denied him this gesture of submission. Only one person strode toward him from the crowd, head raised undaunted like him. Without a word, the person stepped toward him and he toward them. The time had come. Their time had come. The day of the von Eisenfels family rule was imminent.

This is volume 2 of The Witches World-Folds Saga.

Volume 3 "Charms & Chocolate - Immortalized in Iron" Mayla's story continues.

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Charms & Chocolate - Immortalized in Iron

Witches, lots of chocolates, a love triangle, spirit animals, and a witch over 30.

The enchanting story continues.

Together with her allies, Mayla has managed to rescue her grandmother from the clutches of the hunters. But it's not over yet. Vincent von Eisenfels has escaped from the world fold, and sooner or later, Mayla will have to face him. Will Tom be back by her side? Who is working for the opposite side?

Find out and join Mayla on her next adventure as a fire witch.

"Charms & Chocolate – Immortalized in Iron“

Pre-order now

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Would you do me a favor?

It would be great if you could write me a review. It can be short — one or two sentences would be enough. Thank you so much. I appreciate your help, and look forward to seeing you for book no. 3.

Yours, Jenny Swan

Copyright © 2024 by Jenny Swan

All rights reserved.

jenny@jennyswan.com / www.jennyswan.com

Original: „Die Weltenfalten – Von Wind getragen“ von Jenny Völker

Translator: Holger and Lori Flock

Proof Reader: Tegan Raleigh

Cover: Miblart

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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