18: The Heart Remains a Child

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EIGHTEEN: THE HEART REMAINS A CHILD
FEBRUARY 15
PHOEBE DOMINGO

SHE WOKE TO A POUNDING in her head and a sterile gauze around her stomach. She was in the Infirmary—though she didn't really remember how she got there—and around her were seven of her classmates.

The clock on the wall said it was sometime after midnight and she was certain the rest of the Academy was silent, if not empty. The last thing she remembered was standing outside Mr. Donovan's suite, inspecting a magical rope from Queen Clarion's office. The dance was in full swing and shortly after, the comet passed and all hell broke loose.

Phoebe stretched awake from her impromptu unconscious spell just in time to see King and Queen Diamond enter the Infirmary. Across, by Wil's bedside, Mr. Donovan stood up and met them while Nurse Lucia did a quick check on each of the Eight. When she was finished, she nodded to King Walter and made a hasty exit out of the Wing.

King Walter spoke first and when he did, he wasted no time with introductions or explanations. In fact, he jumped right into it—something a very exhausted Phoebe appreciated.

"The Eight of you are special—more so than any group of wizards in the history of the Three Realms. In fact, with the proper training, together your power can rival even that of an Alchemist."

Phoebe looked across at Wil, who was holding back giggles.

"Something funny, Wilmarie?" There was no hiding the disdain in her mother's voice.

Wil shrugged. "Sorry, it's just... You'd think the Three Realms would do a better job picking its saviors or whatever. I mean, look at us. Does this band of misfits really look like the kind of people the fate of the world should depend on?"

Ignoring his daughter, the King continued.

"Sixteen years ago, a comet was used as a binding agent for a spell to protect you all. And last night, when the comet returned, the spell was rendered ineffective."

Beside Phoebe, Drew Briggs snickered. "Kind of foolish, don't you think?" he asked. "Tying our protection to something with an expiration date?"

Wil cackled. The King and Queen glared. Then Queen Clarion cleared her throat.

"In order to recast the spell, we will need to harness the energy from a supernatural event—like the full moon."

"But that's not for weeks," said Liam Heart, and Phoebe noticed the bandage wrapped around his arm—in the exact place where she'd seen his tattoo weeks earlier.

"Mr. Heart is correct," King Walter said. "And until the spell is redone, you will be vulnerable to Dark attacks. Anyone who wishes to harm you will have the access to do so and that leaves the Realm vulnerable as well. We will need to move you to a safe, secure location until then."

"Where are we going?" asked Logan Rogers, a boy Phoebe never exchanged more than five words with. It was odd to think they were now tied to the same fate.

"There's a safe house in a secure location where you'll stay until the spell is complete," answered the King. "No one outside of this room knows its location and therefore, you will remain completely off the grid. Dr. K and Mr. Donovan will be taking you there later once you've grabbed your things."

Phoebe rubbed her fingers together as she tried to process everything she had just heard. Around her, the others seemed to be having just as much trouble. Wil disguised any hint of worry or fear with sass. Kate pushed her cuticles as far back as they'd go—something her manicurist would likely resent her for. Nicole twisted a strand of blonde hair around her finger so tight that the tip turned purple. Cam Miller and Logan Rogers were white as ghosts, Liam tugged at his gauze, and Drew rubbed his shoulders to ease a sore back.

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