Witching Games: The Fire Witch Chronicles 1 by R.A. Lindo (best sales books of all time .txt) 📕
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- Author: R.A. Lindo
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The upper floor of Roeylin’s is a quieter affair, designated as Staff Only. The staff in question are Society members, as they are in all buildings within The Society Sphere. From here, I have sight of Joseph, able to close in on him via one of the doors situated in each corner of the room.
All four doors are black and decorated with a brass handle. Those in the know pull the door handle out and twist it until the desired destination appears in gold lettering. You need a penchant for this to work: an item of jewellery usually decorated by a gemstone.
The Grayling penchant stone is topaz blue; Conrad’s tanzanite. I step to the door nearest to the window and pull the brass handle back, feeling the usual spinning sensation as if I’m losing my footing. The feeling of dizziness passes and I study the gold letters appearing above the door handle, waiting for Babberley’s Barbers to appear.
It’s the shop nearest to Joseph’s current position, and the one he’s about to enter to get to The Shallows: a strange place located beyond The Society Sphere. He’s up to something there, recently making it a daily routine. No one needs to visit The Shallows every day unless they’re Night Rangers like me, checking in on shifty characters.
Joseph Flint isn’t a Night Ranger or, until now at least, not shifty in the slightest, but his usual mutterings to invisible companions in The Chattering Tap have increased in intensity, suggesting a wizard on the edge — caught up in things he shouldn’t be.
With my Williynx in the form of tiny bird, I step through the door when my location appears, pushing the brass door handle as I do, happy to see a familiar slide glittering in the colour of my penchant stone, leading me to my destination and the man about to be tracked to his mysterious contact in The Shallows.
3
The Shallows
I appear in a barber’s chair in a tiny room with only one distinguishing feature: a peephole on the white brickwork ahead of me. Looking into the peephole is the first step, causing the barber’s chair to edge closer. Once my right eye is pressed against the white bricks, I wait for wooden stairs to appear before the peephole expands and I’m sucked through … my feet resting at the top of a staircase.
Most forms of magical travel aren’t as complicated as this, but some places in the S.P.M.A. have added security, mainly for particularly unique realms and those presenting a challenge. For example, the staircase I’m standing on now rises and twists into a formidable beast if it senses bad intentions. Challenge, by the way, is a euphemism for danger, Society elders preferring not to use the D word.
As blessed as our mercurial breed is, not all of us have the courage to match our magical gifts, meaning any whiff of danger usually triggers an exodus to gentler realms. The Shallows don’t fall into the ‘gentle’ category so I take precautions, retrieving a device from my leather trousers: a Follygrin.
Bound in leather, a Follygrin can track anyone at the mention of a few words: Ask and You Will Find. So I ask and the pages flick to the letter J … causing an intricate, moving illustration to form of the wizard in question … currently being lifted into the air by a carpet formed of white weeds.
Joseph Flint jumps from one moving object to another until he propels himself forwards, vanishing out of sight. I know where’s he’s headed now, making my way down the staircase towards a land of floating objects and shifting earth — on the track of an eccentric wizard seemingly up to no good.
With Laieya returning to a more majestic form, I reach the bottom of the steps and enter The Shallows, glancing up at the sky for any sign of Conrad. Many things move up above, including the carpets of white weeds, transporting the traveller onwards.
Conrad won’t be alone up there — the sky urchins an ever present force in all realms beyond The Society Sphere. Now an intrinsic part of the S.P.M.A., the scar-ravaged creatures are designed for battle, meaning whilst they view it as an honour to be welcomed into Society faculties, The Wenlands will always be their home.
I’m hoping the sky urchins won’t be needed this morning. The plan is to maintain subtle surveillance — the role of Night Rangers unless, of course, there’s more than mischief at work out here. Remaining invisible will help, so as I call a carpet of weeds towards me I whisper ‘Verum Veras’, the glittering curtain of light forming around me.
Conrad will hover high in the sky, out of sight, until I close in on Joseph which is when closer surveillance begins. With the glittering curtain of protection surrounding me, I get my balance as I step onto the floating platform, leading me towards the jump Joseph Flint made moments ago and the mystery figure whose company he’s so keen to keep.
With other floating forms gliding past me, I whistle to my Williynx before jumping into the swirling atmosphere of light … reappearing on the other side of a moving landscape. The land moves like a collection of rivers, the soil bending and twisting in various directions towards different parts of The Shallows.
Once you get to your destination, the earth dips into a steep incline, offering a panoramic view of the district you’ve arrived at. I’m guessing Joseph is headed to Poridian Parlour: a place where weary wizards and witches gather. There’s a certain someone said to be hiding out there— someone I’d love to reacquaint myself with: Alice Aradel aka the evening witch.
Alice Aradel picked the wrong side in the last war, leaving her crew to scatter far and wide, desperate to avoid a trip along Quibbs Causeway: the mind-altering path where the Mantzils
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