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  Step into Magic

  Portals to Whyland Book I

  Day Leitao

  Copyright © 2018 by Day Leitao

  All rights reserved.

  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.

  dayleitao.com

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-7750637-4-2

  Print Book ISBN: 978-1-7750637-5-9

  Cover art by Xilveroxas

  Contents

  1. On foot and shoes

  2. Visits

  3. Getting Real

  4. Where?

  5. How?

  6. Communication

  7. One More

  8. The Imaginary Pursuers

  9. Fingers

  10. The Meaning of Yellow

  11. A Plea for Help

  12. Night Revelations

  13. A Long Way to the Top

  14. Looking Ahead

  15. About the Rebels

  16. Backstabbing

  17. Time to Turn Around

  18. Truths and Lies

  19. Going Separate Ways

  20. About Sian

  21. The Final Battles

  22. Darian and Cayla

  23. After the End

  The Spell Speakers

  Kissing Magic

  About the Author

  Afterword

  1

  On foot and shoes

  More than anything, Karina hated to be wrong.

  Wait. There was something worse: admitting she was wrong.

  Just the thought sent her into a hair-raising shiver. But there she was, giving herself a firm reminder: never accept invitations to alternate worlds from strangers.

  Quite useless advice, considering the odds of this experience ever being repeated. How could thoughtful, logical Karina have fallen for that? How did it even start? Ah, yes… she was looking for something. Something impressive. Something great. Something meaningful. She found something all right, but she was far from sure it was any of those.

  As with any journey, it started with a walk.

  Karina loathed questions without clear answers. Why couldn’t everything be simple, like math? Either the answer’s wrong or it’s right. No maybes or almosts. That meant she hated history, especially that last stupid test and the embarrassing grade that came with it.

  But did it even matter? She wanted to believe that life could be greater than just projects and school and family and classmates and all that day-to-day sameness. Karina stopped. Her feet had carried her some fifteen blocks from her apartment, and she found herself in a busy commercial street with nice shops, cafes, and restaurants. People passed by and the world moved around her while she tried to figure out where she fit in—and where she didn’t, unable to find where that emptiness in her chest had come from. It wasn’t just her low social studies grades.

  Glittery letters on a cardboard spelled “Yard Sale,” without any translation. This was an English neighborhood in a French-speaking city. Curious and having no real direction, she followed the sign.

  Junk lay over brown, overgrown grass in front of an ancient, decrepit wooden house. There were coats, small objects, boots, and too many shoes to count. Karina wondered who would want other people’s smells. Most shoes were somber: brown or black and slightly worn. One pair stood out, though, as the shoes almost looked like they were made of steel, not really for wearing, just decorative objects shaped like silver flats. Out of curiosity, Karina touched them. The feeling surprised her—they were as soft as fleece.

  An old woman with a grey ponytail sat on a rocking chair, behind all the stuff. Karina asked her, “Excuse me, what material is this?”

  The woman didn’t raise her eyes from a brown leather-bound book she was gripping. “I have no idea.”

  Karina pretended to take a closer look at the shoes just to check if they had any unwanted smell without being rude or obvious. Thankfully there was none.

  “They’re ten dollars,” the woman said, this time standing next to Karina as if implying she should either buy them or stop touching.

  Karina put the shoes back on the chair where she’d found them.

  The woman stared at her. “Size seven.”

  That was Karina’s size, but she hadn’t asked that question and wasn’t planning on buying any of that crap. She turned around and walked away.

  As she was getting home, she kept thinking how those silver shoes were curious objects. They felt so different from how they looked, and ten dollars was not a lot of money. But used shoes were a bad idea. Those didn’t seem used, but who knew? Ten dollars could go for something more important, like… chocolate—perhaps not that important. When would she ever see shoes like those again? A disturbing thought crossed her mind. What if someone else bought them? Those precious shoes were a bargain. Someone would probably notice them. This could not be. Karina ran back as fast as she could.

  The silver shoes were still there, shiny as ever, reflecting the sunlight. Panting, she gave the money to the woman and grabbed them. “I wanna take these.”

  They were Karina’s now.

  Cayla closed her book. She had memorized all the maps of Whyland; every river, every mountain, every major city, and yet, they remained two-dimensional: paintings on paper, still images without much meaning. Beyond the walls of the castle was a world she had yet to see with her own eyes. There was also someone she hadn’t seen in over a year. Her chest tightened. She closed her eyes and tried to forget those memories and the pain they brought with them.

  Inside, there was still something she wanted to learn. If she pressed her old teacher, sometimes he taught her a little, but only sometimes.

  Master Odell raised his eyes. “I see you’re finished. We’ll pick more books from the library. Any subject you’re interested in?”

  He seemed to be in a good mood. Cayla’s younger sister Ayanna was not in the room, so perhaps that was her chance. “It’s not in books. At least not in any we'd find in the main library here. You know much more than you’ve taught us.”

  A flash of understanding crossed Odell's face but he sighed. “Some things need to be buried. Forgotten. Or at least that’s what your father wants.”

  “He doesn’t need to know.”

  Odell shook his head. “I serve your father, Cayla.”

  Cayla gave up and stared at her book. Odell was in a bad mood.

  Karina stared at the shoes in her hands. Shoes. Right. Hardly an answer to some great question she was yet to ask. But the shoes were pretty—and different from any she'd ever seen. Despite their shiny finish, they were thin and flexible, almost like real ballet flats, but the sole was thicker, like normal shoes. Mysterious and fascinating, they’d become her special secret, a secret she didn’t want to share with anyone, not even her friends.

  A knock on the door startled her. Karina barely had time to shove her glistening shoes in the closet before Zoe walked in pulling a trolley suitcase. Overkill for a sleepover, but hey, to each their own quirks. For the first time since they’d become friends, Zoe was early, and Karina’s mom must have welcomed her in through the front door.

  Zoe spread the outfits onto the bed. “I brought clothes. For you and me. You’ll look so good you won’t even recognize yourself.”

  Karina stared at her friend. Zoe was pretty and all, and Karina didn’t usually mind her enthusiasm for fashion, but sometimes she went too far. Plus, Karina was perfectly comfortable with her own non-supermodel looks, wavy brown hair and eyes, thank you.

  Zoe cleared her throat. “I meant… you usually look great. You’re cute. It’s just, sometimes, it’s a matter of mix
ing and matching, trying different things. Not that you have to lend me anything—”

  Karina shrugged. “You can have anything you want.”

  Zoe smiled. “Thanks.”

  The idea of Zoe borrowing anything from Karina was rather preposterous, as her clothes were so much plainer than her friend’s, but at least she didn’t want to make her feel bad about it.

  Zoe started picking outfits. “We’ll look amazing at the dance.”

  So that was what it was about. Karina had stopped caring about school dances long ago, but there was something sweet in Zoe’s endless enthusiasm for them. At least her friend didn’t bring her special eyeshadow for brown eyes or come up with a ridiculous suggestion to tame Karina’s hair. But it was worse: she started talking about her crush. Karina had always felt like the least qualified person to give love advice, until she figured out that it wasn’t so much about advice as it was about listening and nodding. Karina, for her part, didn’t have a crush and was glad not to suffer from any of the illogical behaviors associated with the affliction.

  Even with an overflowing suitcase, Zoe had somehow forgotten her pajamas. Karina prepared a bed on the floor and told her friend to get a pair from the top drawer in the closet. Not hearing any sound, she turned around to check on Zoe. “Did you find it?”

  The girl stood in silence with her eyes fixated on something in the bottom of the closet. Oh, no. Not only had she seen the silver shoes, she stared at them with the greediest eyes. Karina’s heart sped up, without any idea where that fear came from. All she felt was that by no means should her friend even touch those shoes.

  She tried to divert her attention. “I’ll get you the pajamas. We need to sleep.”

  Without moving her eyes, Zoe asked, “Where did you get those?”

  Perhaps Karina could undervalue the shoes and make her friend lose interest in them. “They’re yard sale shoes. Too small.”

  “Can I try them?”

  “No!” Ouch. That sounded desperate. Karina tried to change her tone. “I mean… they won’t fit you.”

  “My feet are smaller than yours.”

  “Yeah, they’ll be too big for you.”

  Zoe bent to pick up the shoes. “I’ll see if they fit.”

  Karina was faster, sweeping them up in her hands “You can’t. They… are not mine. They’re a cousin’s, and she’s going to wear them for a wedding.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “I’m sure your cousin won’t mind if I just put them on for a second.”

  Karina sat far on the bed and put the shoes behind her back. “No.”

  Zoe sat next to her. “Karina, you’re being ridiculous. Let me try your shoes. I just want to see how they look. Don’t give me this fake cousin talk.”

  “Fine.” Lying was pointless. “I’m sorry. These shoes, they’re special to me. I don’t know how to explain.”

  “Are you four or fourteen? Still haven’t learned to share?”

  “I just like them very much.”

  Zoe sighed. “You said I could have anything I liked from your closet.”

  “And you said I didn’t need to lend you anything if I didn’t want to.”

  Zoe sat down again, looked away for a moment, and then looked back at Karina. “So you’re not lending me the shoes.”

  Well, no, and it sounded terrible when her friend put it like that, but before Karina could come up with anything to say, Zoe seemed to change her mind.

  “Fine, you're right.” Her voice was calm and understanding. “You don’t have to lend me anything if you don’t want to. There’s no point arguing.” She had a big smile. “You’ll see.”

  By Friday the girls’ argument had become little more than a distant memory. Karina walked into the school with her friend Tori. With lights down, doors shut, and only the gym illuminated, the school didn’t feel like the place she went almost every day. Karina had on a black dress and a small purse, both weighed down by the discomfort she felt in most social situations. But something else was making her feel uneasy. Zoe would be coming around later, but that was normal. The girls found a corner near the entrance stairs and watched people coming in as if on a strange fashion runway surrounded by a handrail.

  Karina was debating with herself whether she should nod to people she didn’t usually say hi to when a familiar face at the top of the stairs cheered her up.

  Zoe.

  Karina was about to smile when she noticed what was on her friend’s feet: the silver shoes. Zoe saw her surprised look and replied not with shame or embarrassment, but with a smirk. Karina felt hurt, betrayed. More than that, and beyond the feeling of not wanting to share something, she felt as if a part of her had been taken and was being used. A feeling almost as if someone had used her toothbrush or underwear, but this was much stronger.

  Karina’s first thought was to take back the shoes by force. Zoe would fall from her pride. Those thoughts formed an image in Karina’s mind. As the image got clearer, her anger disappeared, replaced by worry. In her mental image, there was blood surrounding Zoe’s head, as if Karina’s desire had escaped her control and had become an independent monster. The awful image looked real, felt so real it was disturbing.

  Zoe was about to descend the stairs. They were just stairs—surrounded by a steel handrail. But the impression remained. Karina ran as fast as she could towards her friend. The image in her head had almost become true; Zoe slipped. Had it not been for Karina holding her mid-fall, the girl would have landed face down from the top of the stairs. Not only had she slipped, the steel handrail had cracked.

  2

  Visits

  The day was so dark that Karina took longer than normal to wake up. But no. Her oversleeping had nothing to do with the grey clouds covering the horizon. It was exhaustion from the previous night. Zoe walking in the gym was the last clear image in Karina’s mind. After that, all memories were a jumbled blur. Lights being turned on, an ambulance coming in, hoards of people surrounding them, the shoes flying off Zoe’s feet, the shoes folded inside Karina’s purse. The shoes—and what they seemed capable of doing—sent shivers down her spine.

  In the kitchen, her mother blamed the poor maintenance of the school but was thankful that everything ended up well and added, “It was nice of you to go with Zoe to the hospital.”

  Karina recalled that part then. Just a broken leg. It could have been worse. Everyone said it, but she was the only one who understood the full extent of how worse it could have been. She felt guilty, certain that the shoes had played a part in Zoe’s fall, although she had no idea how.

  She ate quickly, helped her dad with the dishes, and ran back to her room. The shoes were still in her purse, rolled into a small size. Unbelievable that amidst all the confusion there had been time to hide the shoes and nobody— not even Tori— had noticed them. For everyone, it seemed that Zoe had come to the dance barefoot, because she’d never answered anything when asked about her shoes, claiming she didn’t remember them, as if a near-death experience could make Zoe forget what kind of footwear she had on.

  Enough from the previous night. The cracked handrail gave Karina chills. The shoes were evil, pure evil; succeeded in breaking a leg and nearly breaking up a friendship. Perhaps they should be returned or thrown away. But no, they were too precious for that. Karina would keep them, hide them, and never wear them or let anyone see them again. She placed the purse on a high shelf in her closet.

  Despite the wet and gray weather, Karina’s parents went out in the late afternoon, after inquiring a thousand times if she was okay, which was dumb since she wasn't the one who'd fallen. As a result, she found herself alone with her thoughts and decided to take a walk for the sake of sanity. A walk. She knew where she had to go.

  Karina came to the same street where she’d found the sign. Of course there'd be no yard sale in this weather, but she could at least find the old house. But it wasn’t in the street she thought it was—or in any street around it. Wasn’t she able to recognize the house without the
junk in front of it? Or maybe someone had renovated or demolished it. But there were neither demolished nor recently renovated houses anywhere. Maybe she was mistaken about the street. Maybe her memory was just bad. Maybe—she had no other explanation. The grey clouds were now coming down in minuscule droplets of rain, almost like a thick fog. She felt as if the dampness reached her bones, despite knowing well that it was a scientific impossibility. And she had definitely forgotten where the house was. Bad memory was not any type of impossibility.

  There was something odd about opening the door and getting home by herself. How strange that not so long before, her parents needed someone to look after her, as if she would set the house on fire, run away, or starve to death. Now, a couple of years later, everything was different. That night, however, she felt lonely and slightly scared. Her mom had left dinner in the fridge, ready to be heated, but Karina decided to make toast instead. While cutting some moldy pieces from the old bread, she noticed that the lights in her room were on. And they changed as if something had moved near them. Karina told her stomach to chill. It could be Zoe. With a broken leg? Karina took a deep breath. What was the point in wondering, if she could walk there and find out? She felt stupid for that, but she actually had to gather her courage, get up, and go to her bedroom.

  Indeed someone sat on her armchair: a beautiful woman wearing a long white dress that contrasted with her long, very shiny black hair. Her eyes were black too, deep, like old eyes that had seen many things, which was odd because the woman didn’t look older than 35, 40 at most. Karina no longer felt scared or surprised. She had almost been expecting someone like that, not that she thought her parents had changed their minds and hired a cool-looking babysitter, but more that she had a feeling someone would come looking for the silver shoes, and the woman’s looks fit the part. Karina’s first thought was to run to her closet and check, but that didn’t make sense because if the woman had been a thief, she wouldn’t be hanging around. Karina wanted to say something but had no idea what.