Page 11 of The Tribes of Magic
“Savannah is right. Listen to her.”
“Listen to Savannah Winters, the worst-performing Apprentice of us all?”
Those words came from my favorite Apprentice of all time: Zoe Santos. A few of the Apprentices snorted. But Victoria came to stand beside me. I smiled at her to show her I appreciated the gesture.
“Don’t be stupid. She’s accomplished more as an Apprentice than all of you put together.”
“I can’t believe you’re taking her side, Vicky! You’re not even on her team!”
“This isn’t about teams, Zoe. It’s about right and wrong. And when it comes down to it, Savannah does the right thing. She rescued me and Jack yesterday. Right, Jack?”
“That’s right. Savannah teleported us to safety, all the way across the Park!”
“You can teleport that far?” Bronte asked me quietly, her eyes wide.
“Come on, Bronte, it’s no secret she’s a Polymage.”
Victoria nodded. “Dutch is right. Weallheard the mentors talking about last week after the heist.”
“Not that your rare magic has earned our team any bonus points, Savannah.” Dutch pivoted toward me. “Andwhyis that exactly? How can you save twenty-eight Apprentices and still have no points to show for it? That is justnotok.”
I knew Dutch was mostly only indignant over the points he would have gained by association for being my teammate, but I appreciated his words nonetheless.
“Come on, guys. Let’s pull ourselves together. If we can’t do it, no one can. We have to be better thanthat.” Victoria pointed at the grownups’ shouting match, which had expanded to encompass both sides of the fence. Soon it would spread to the whole street.
The sight of all that anger and hatred finally snapped the Apprentices out of it.
“Vicky’s right.”
The others nodded in agreement—well, all of them except for Zoe. Funny, no one had nodded along when I’d said the same words. I just wasn’t as popular as Victoria.
Not being popular was pretty much the story of my life.
Dutch pointed at the bright, shiny conference center waiting for us just down the street. “Ok, now that we’ve all kissed and made up, might I suggest we get to work before our mentors dock usalla whole lot of points?”
CHAPTER 4
AINSLEY
The kitchen smelled of caramelized onions and fresh herbs. Dozens of cooks peeled, chopped, stirred, and sprinkled—while the Alchemist in charge of them all waved his hands around and shouted until his face grew red, a conductor to a culinary orchestra.
As soon as the Apprentices had entered the kitchen, Ms. Featherdale, the event planner, had handed each of us a folded set of clothing. We now stood in a perfect line by the door, awaiting instructions. Today, we were supposed to be training as Elves, but in our white dress shirts and black pants, we looked a lot more like waiters.
“Fix your hair, Savannah,” Ms. Featherdale snapped at me before she scurried off, her high-heeled steps shaky and off-balance, like she was walking on a swaying boat. The pressure of pulling off a perfect Summit was clearly getting to her.
I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to form a sleek ponytail. A quick look in the oven’s reflective door was all it took to tell me that I’d failed miserably. It looked even worse than before.
Sensing my distress, Bronte came to my rescue. “Here, Savannah. Let me help you.”
A few minutes later, I had a perfect pair of Dutch braids.
“Wow. These braids are great. Thanks, Bronte.” I turned my head in front of the oven mirror, viewing the braids from different angles. There wasn’t a single strand out of place. “My braids always have little bumps and bits sticking out of them. How did you get them to be so perfect?”
I thought I sensed a sigh buried deep beneath Bronte’s smile.
“Practice, Savannah. Lots and lots of practice.”
I’d practiced a lot too, but my braids were never this pretty. There had to be a spell for that. I made a mental note to research hairstyling spells.
