Stephanie smirked and traced her fingers tentatively over the torn and tattered cover. Her father shrugged. “Either way, if you can read it, know that there might be a reason for your abilities.”

  Carefully, her mother handed her the book and watched her closely as her gaze studied every inch of the cover. Stephanie gripped the thickest edge of the cover and opened it, using her body to shield if from the stiff breeze. Her father put one hand out to hold it so that it wouldn’t rip off the spine. She paused, looking up and down the page, and turned it. Her gaze wandered across the next page.

  Her mother exhaled a deep breath and put her hand to her chest. “See? I don’t see anything either. Only blank pages. Maybe you’re right, Mark. Maybe it was merely some silly story.”

  “Blank pages,” Stephanie whispered to herself.

  The ambassador’s card.

  The battery rubbed against the outside of her thigh from where it rested in her pocket. She pressed her fingers tentatively to the page. A small trace of magic whirled from her fingertips but it was too minute for even her parents to notice.

  When the world needs a Morgana, one will rise to the occasion. There they were—the words seemed as clear as if they were written on the inside of her eyelids. Plain as day.

  She opened her eyes wide to find her parents standing there, staring at her. Her mother looked at the pages and back at her. “Do you see something we can’t?”

  Stephanie released a deep breath and chuckled but decided to keep her discovery a secret for now. “No. I like freaking you out a bit, that’s all.”

  Her mother laughed, relieved, and her father smirked and nodded his head. “Let’s get this wrapped up and in your bag. You need to get on the road. There is a TRAM to catch and you still need to go past the office building. With so much to do today, there is no reason to stand in the driveway and stare at a blank-paged book like a bunch of crazies.”

  She smiled and closed it, wrapped it up tightly once again, and placed it in her bag. As her parents moved around to the front, she swept her hand over it to provide it magical protection—or, at least, she hoped that was what she had accomplished. It seemed more and more, as each day passed, that when she looked for a specific spell, it would almost come to her without thought. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or merely a normal thing but then again, she didn’t really have anything to judge it against. Perhaps the book might help her in that way.

  All smiles, she shut the trunk and moved forward to hug both her parents again before she clambered into the back of the car. Her father held tightly to her mother’s shoulder as they waved, yelled their wishes for her to have good luck, and her mother sobbed into her tissue. She smiled as the vehicle moved off, knowing she would be back but focused on her excitement for the future ahead of her. It could be somber, sure, but she wouldn’t allow it to create any stress for her. Besides, she couldn’t walk into the building looking miserable.

  The car stopped outside the large, looming skyscraper and the door opened automatically for her. She stepped out with the envelope and walked into the large entryway. The same secretary stood behind the desk, this time with a more pleasant look on her face. “How can I help you today?”

  Stephanie handed her the paperwork. “I wondered if Mr. Martelle was in. I wanted to hand these to him personally.”

  The woman grimaced. “I’m afraid he has been on site but not in his office. I can hand-deliver them for you if you would like. I am not sure if he will even be back in his office today.”

  Stephanie frowned and tapped on the desk. “Shoot. I guess I’ll—”

  “Ms. Morgana,” a familiar voice shouted behind her.

  She turned as Mr. Martelle walked toward her with another person beside him. Instantly, Stephanie flashed a smile and retrieved the envelope with a whispered thank you to the secretary. She winked at her as she turned. The two shook hands but the man beside him simply stood there and glowered in her general direction. Still, she kept her composure.

  Stephanie put her hand out to the other man, but he dismissed her rudely with a flicker of fire in his eyes. “So, this is her. The woman who thinks she can come in and take what is rightfully ours.”

  She drew her hand back with a polite smile. “You must be Mr. Wesley. I assure you, there was nothing personal in my attempts. Only business, you see. Attempting to provide Mr. Martelle with the kind of service that he has come to expect.”

  He sneered and turned to the other man. Stephanie’s phone vibrated in her pocket as he turned his back to exclude her from the conversation. She stood her ground, although she stepped to the side. “Some no-name two-bit business, please. Don’t be a fool, Martelle. Okay, so we took our eyes off the ball a little. We can do better.”

  Stephanie was faintly worried by his pleading and the fact that they had more of a personal relationship than she had expected. Her phone buzzed in her hand again and she turned to the side to answer the call. No one paid attention to her at that point anyway.

  “Hello,” she answered and tried to keep the sound of Mr. Wesley’s gruff tone out of the receiver.

  “Stephanie! It is Brilgus, the ambassador’s guard,” the caller said jubilantly.

  She smiled. “Oh, Brilgus, so good to hear from you. How are you?”

  He chuckled. “Good, full of too many dinners, I suppose. I guess I should stop having those when I go with him.”

  Stephanie giggled and ignored the conversation beside her. “What can I do for you?”

  “I called to see if you would be in town tonight. The ambassador would like to have dinner with you.”

  She smirked, turned a fraction, and talked a little more loudly. “Why, certainly. I’d love to have dinner with the ambassador. I’ve been dying to catch up since our last visit.”

  Mr. Martelle shifted his gaze toward her and raised his hand to his companion. He stared at her for a moment and she mouthed the words, “I’m sorry,” with a huge grin on her face.

  He snapped his head back toward the angry man. “Two-bit?”

  Mr. Wesley fumed. “Yes! Two-bit, half a company, no real talent. No backing. Some slums from the other side of town—”

  The other man pointed to the young woman who stood nearby and laughed at something her caller said. “Let me ask you this. Do your people come in here to speak to me—the owner of the company and the building—dressed to impress? When I saw her yesterday, I thought she was the wrong appointment, not some representative from a cleaning company.”

  Mr. Wesley furrowed his brow and glared at Stephanie as she shifted her gaze away from him as she talked. “What?”

  Mr. Martelle folded his arms over his chest. “Do your people go to Washington DC to have dinner with ambassadors who have their people call you to set up the meeting?”

  His companion gritted his teeth and pointed his finger accusingly. “Now you hold on one second. Since when did cleaning become something you needed clout to do? Besides, don’t believe this schtick. I did that lame shit long before she was born. She’s probably talking to her brother or mommy on the phone. You would be an idiot to think that someone like her is that important.”

  He scoffed and gestured dismissively, and Stephanie narrowed her eyes. “One moment, please, Brilgus. I apologize.”

  She covered the phone receiver, turned to him, and pursed her lips. “First of all, I walked in here with the utmost respect, professionalism, and manners. I dress this way because that, sir, is how you gain respect, no matter what the business you happen to be in. If cleaning floors and toilets are demeaning to you and you therefore choose to come in sloppily and with an attitude, that is your problem. Because in my eyes, after watching two people grow and build this very business all my life, I can tell you there is nothing to be ashamed of. I am sorry that your business acumen and politesse are lacking but do not take that out on me.”

  Mr. Wesley looked at her, slightly confused, and silently mouthed the word politesse. Stephanie rolled her eyes. “If I weren’t on the phone with a gentleman, I would say it in words better suited to your understanding.”

  Mr. Martelle chuckled, stepped back, and watched it unfold. He rather enjoyed the sparring between them, and even more so the way in which the girl was able to articulate herself to leave Mr. Wesley in complete and utter confusion.

  Her opponent shook his head and looked at Martelle as he spoke in a low tone. “She is a fraud. A hoax. She doesn’t know any ambassador and she sure as hell isn’t traveling to DC to meet up with one. If she is, it’s for far more than dinner—”

  Stephanie’s mouth fell open in rage but before she could say anything, her phone buzzed in her hand. Brilgus had sent a text to get her attention. Please put me on speaker.

  She smiled and cleared her throat. “The ambassador’s security specialist would like to say something,” she said as she put the phone on speaker.

  Even though Brilgus was either human or half-human, he still spoke in a strong Meligorn accent and a deep booming voice when necessary. “This is Brilgus, lead armament to the great Ambassador of Meligorn. How dare you speak to this woman in such a manner? How have you lived for this long without recognizing the pre-eminent human witch who stands before you? Had you acted this way in any other time or situation, I would have watched her fry you for your insolence. Show your due respect.” His changed tone to a calm voice. “Shall we say the car will pick you up at eight pm then?”

  Stephanie snickered. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Brilgus. I look forward to seeing you and the ambassador.”

  They hung up and she stuck her phone in her purse. Suddenly, Mr. Wesley lurched and completely lost it. “How dare you put some half-breed Meligorn on the phone telling me I need to respect you, woman? I am under no obligation and to think you would have some witch involved in your—”

  Stephanie gripped her battery lightly, thrust her hand into the air, and waved it in front of his face. “Enough!”

  His mouth snapped shut and his lips sealed. His eyes widened and he touched his face, slightly panicked. She narrowed her eyes, stepped toward him, and scrutinized him with slow deliberation. “Now that I have your attention—”

  He mumbled, backed up, and clawed at the space where his mouth used to be. She tilted her finger back and forth in front of his frightened eyes. “I don’t appreciate the slurs you have thrown at my personage or that of my dear friends. Do you believe for a second that everyone is a conniving, lying, lower than a rat individual like yourself?”

  As if unable to help himself, he roved his gaze over the lobby and finally nodded. Mr. Martelle leaned his head back and laughed so loudly that it echoed through the marble-covered room. “Nice way to get him to admit that about himself.”

  The man, confused, looked at Martelle, back at Stephanie, and began to shake his head violently back and forth. Stephanie retreated for a few steps and folded her arms when she stood beside the other man and stared at Mr. Wesley. She admired her handiwork and how quickly she was able to translate her wants into magic. “What would you have me do? I have only two hours to get to the TRAM. I can leave that—” She motioned to his missing mouth. “Or return him to his less than admirable prior condition and allow the two of you to have a discussion.”

  Mr. Martelle sighed heavily and shook his head. He lowered his arm and shrugged. “Take it off, please. I guess I can’t have him run around my complex like that and scare the clients.”

  Stephanie raised her hand and snapped her fingers to instantly return his mouth to him. He gasped and patted his fingers wildly over his lips. For several moments, he stood there speechless, and she began to think she had somehow accidentally affected his voice.

  Finally, Mr. Wesley spoke. “Mr. Martelle, I—”

  The other man shook his head and raised a hand to silence him. “I want to make something very, very clear to you, Wesley. This is my building. The people whom I invite into these walls are only welcomed after careful examination of character, manners, and class. Apparently, I missed you in that review. If you ever come into my establishment again in a manner as brazen and blatantly disrespectful as you did today, I will have you arrested by federal police. Do you understand?”

  Mr. Wesley frowned and his nostrils flared. “Yes.”

  Mr. Martelle brushed his hands off decisively. “Good, then. It’s all settled. Now, if you wouldn’t mind removing your useless ass from my building, I would be much obliged. If you have thought about your actions, brought them to a careful review in your mind, and understood your wrongdoing during the course of the next three years, then you may reapply when the contract has ended.”

  The ex-contractor huffed and stormed out of the building but made no effort to look at Stephanie again. Her companion chuckled and glanced at her. “My lunch plans just walked out in a huff. Would you care to have a quick lunch in the building’s restaurant? We can have your luggage brought in and the car dismissed and call another once we’ve eaten. I’d like to have a chance to get to know the woman an ambassador from Meligorn calls for dinner reservations. I doubt any of my friends will have a better story than mine for at least a month.”

  Stephanie laughed. “That was a good one, wasn’t it? Although I apologize for the mouth thing. I got a tad carried away, I suppose.”

  Mr. Martelle scoffed. “Please. That was the best thing I have ever seen. He’s had it coming for years.”

  He put his hand on her back and guided her toward the elevators. As they waited, Stephanie looked over at him with curiosity. “Mr. Martelle, did you say three years?”

  “Yes,” he admitted as they stepped into the elevator and they began to close. “He was being a very large ass.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  This time, Stephanie was alone in her cabin in first class. That gave her the opportunity to put her feet up and she ordered a small dessert—there hadn’t been time for one after lunch—and a soda, leaned back, and watched the scenery change rapidly outside her window. It was a much-needed moment to herself. A time when she could reflect on her thoughts, worry little, and even shut her eyes for a moment and rest. She had to adjust to the idea that she wasn’t home because now, hers had become a place and circumstance where home was less defined by the four walls that surrounded her and more by her own comfort in herself.

  Taking the job in Washington was fantastic and she hoped that it continued as a long-term thing, but she had learned very young, watching the ghettos burn on the outskirts of Old Chicago, that everything was temporary. Even life was temporary, an extraordinary understanding for someone of her age to have, she knew. Nonetheless, it was there. That didn’t take away her questions and curiosity, but it was something that lingered forever in the back of her mind.

  Her cool bubbling grape soda was refreshing, and she pushed the tray aside and rubbed her stomach. She thought about bringing the book out, but her eyelids already tried to slam shut on her. Instead, she dumped the tray outside where they told her to leave it when she’d finished, locked her door with her palm signature, and found a blanket before she curled up in one of the reclining chairs. The trip wouldn’t take that long, but she still had a few minutes of sleep she could sneak in before the craziness of her new life punched her in the chin.

  It wasn’t long before Stephanie nodded off, her head comfortably cushioned against the soft velour of the chair beneath her. Her dreams wandered to visions of Meligorn, the pond from her testing, and a wide teal field of flowing long grasses beneath the purple haze of the MU spectrum. She looked around her and paused when she realized she now wore a long white gown that dragged on the ground behind her. Over her shoulders was a purple cloak, the hood slightly perched on the top of her head.

  The energy surged through her, and with every step that she took, it swirled around her bare feet. Up ahead in the grassy clearing, another person stood silently. But they were not Meligorn—at least by outward appearance. The woman stood turned away from her. Cascading ribbons of long brown hair, secured halfway with rows of tiny purple flowers, rolled gently over her back. She wore a similar robe but long and purple.

  Stephanie took several steps toward her and tentatively stretched out her hand, the need to connect with her astonishingly powerful. As if she were a character in a horrible action movie, the woman’s body tensed sharply and her head turned to look at Stephanie. Her eyes glistened a bright purple and she opened her mouth to emit a low moan that fluttered across the waves of wind and directly at her. Stephanie backed away and raised her hand as the sound drew closer and billowed up into a large cloud of magic. She screamed instinctively as the purple mass rolled inexorably toward her.

  Confused and actually afraid, she lurched forward in the chair and clutched her chest, breathing heavily. A sound at the door made her jump, and she looked up to where one of the attendants knocked a second time. She straightened her shirt and hair and pushed to her feet, shuffled to the door, and pressed her palm against the device to open it.

  “I’m sorry ma’am. Your door was locked. We have arrived in Washington.”

  She turned toward the window and blinked at the bustling train station outside. The man seemed to want a response, so she looked at him and nodded. “Thank you.”

  He glanced at her bags. “Can I help you with those?”

  Stephanie shook her head and pulled them down easily, still slightly dazed from sleep. “No, thank you. I’ve got them.”

  He stood to the side and smiled at her as she exited the train and stepped onto the sidewalk. The warm late evening air soothed her neck and the throbbing pulse of her muscles, stiff from the way she’d been lying. As she approached the curb, she found her car, waiting like before, and it took her quickly to the hotel.

  She was in the same suite, and everyone fell over themselves in their efforts to welcome her. Despite her efforts to shake the strange fog of the dream from her brain, she struggled to do so. Safely in her suite, she sent her family a message that she had arrived and jumped in the shower. Like magic, the water ran over her and washed away the heaviness that had sat in her chest like a rock. A little more relaxed, she dried herself off thoroughly and looked at the time. She still had two hours before she would be picked up for dinner.