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scouts, searching for them in the woods; somebody had sent them to look for him and his friends. This girl had seen him on the battlements. Had she told anyone? If she had, their hopes were ruined. It was hard to gauge whether her intentions toward himself and the group were honorable ones or not.

“What do you intend to do with the information you have on us?” asked Alex coldly.

Helena looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Have you told anyone about us?” he pressed. Instantly, the atmosphere changed as all eyes focused with suspicion on Helena—even Jari’s eyes seemed to narrow slightly.

She shook her head, her sleek hair glinting. “No, I haven’t told a soul about you. I swear,” she said earnestly. “It is not our custom. You are guests here. If you desire it, I will continue to bring food and drink to you in secret each day, until you decide what to do next—whether you wish to stay here or move on. But I will not tell anyone of your presence here unless you wish it.”

Alex could not deny she seemed genuine. There was an honesty in her strange eyes that he could not ignore, and yet she had come from within the villa walls, from the unknown.

“We don’t want anyone else to know,” Alex said.

She dipped her head in a kooky curtsey. “Very well. Do you still wish me to bring food and water?”

Alex thought about the lake water and the burn in his throat. “If that isn’t too much trouble.”

She smiled. “Absolutely not. It is my pleasure. It is so very exciting to meet new people. You must tell me all about where you are from and what has brought you to our fair shores.”

A wary look passed between the others at this request.

“Perhaps you could tell us something of your fair shores first. An exchange of sorts,” suggested Alex.

“Yeah—why don’t you sit and share some food with us? Tell us all about yourself,” Jari encouraged as he sat down on the grass against the cottage.

Guardedly, they sat in a circle and shared out the food Helena had brought. Alex had his eye on the drinks, desperate to quench his thirst, but there were all kinds of foodstuffs in the basket. There were honeyed cakes that oozed with syrup and delicate pastries filled with a strange jam that was both sweet and sour at the same time. There were doughy white buns, soft and heavenly, with a melted cheese filling that was delicious, topped with crisp salad leaves and a shredded radish-type vegetable. Savory pastries too, with hearty, warming centers, delicately spiced with almost Moroccan flavoring that tickled the tongue for just a moment, before giving way to a comforting heat. They ate hungrily, satisfied sounds making their way across the group.

The drinks were strange and wonderful too. Alex popped open the top of a red-colored one and drank deeply. It slaked his thirst almost immediately, tasting of watermelon and strawberries mixed together, cool and refreshing on his tongue. It beat any soda he had ever tasted.

“So, tell us about this place,” Alex said, after polishing off half of the red drink.

“Well, where to begin? It is a school for magical students.” She paused thoughtfully. “Are you magical?” she asked.

“We are.” Natalie nodded, biting into one of the pastries.

“Are you from a school?” she ventured.

“We are,” confirmed Jari.

Alex frowned, not sure if they should have given that much away.

“You are from a school? Oh, how wonderful! We hardly ever get students from elsewhere around here. I thought I should check in case you weren’t and I had just bamboozled you! Can you imagine if you were non-magical and I had just told you I was magical—you’d think I was mad!” She giggled. “Now, where was I?”

“Stillwater House,” encouraged Alex.

“Ah, yes. So, this is a very ancient, very well-respected magical school for magically gifted students. It is much like any other magical school, only this one is for the children of noble mages,” she explained matter-of-factly. There didn’t seem to be anything arrogant in the way she said it, and Alex didn’t think Helena had the slightest notion how different this school was from the school they had come from.

“Noble mages?” asked Ellabell, quirking a brow.

Helena nodded. “Oh, yes—you know, magical lords, ladies, dukes, duchesses, barons, baronets, those sorts of people?”

Ellabell gave a slight shrug of understanding. “I suppose.”

“Well, they send their children here at a young age, to be trained up as the finest mages possible. It is very beautiful here, I know, but the work is hard and we put in so many hours. It is tireless, but it has to be this way in order to bring pride to our families. That is why we are sent here.”

That explained the beautiful architecture, the lush landscape, the advanced lessons, the happiness and laughter he had overheard—every difference between this place and Spellshadow. These people, these nobles, were born to be mages. It was instilled in them, no doubt, from an early age that they were special. They were born understanding their powers, wanting to be mages, instead of being dragged unwillingly from their homes and families and forced into it. Knowing that, he felt a twinge of bitterness. It was so much easier for them. He wondered if they even knew there were others out there, less fortunate, less willing.

“What about security? Doesn’t anyone ever try to leave?” he asked, wondering if there had ever been outcasts within the villa walls who did not want to abide by the status quo.

A look of curiosity passed across her striking eyes. “There are guards but not much else. Nobody wants to leave, and hardly anybody ever just turns up, so they don’t bother with much in the way of security. Plus, most of us are very strong. If somebody got in who wasn’t welcome or invited, they would undoubtedly be dealt with,” she replied, not realizing how chilling her answer sounded to the group of trespassers.

“Has anyone ever

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