Elvie wasn’t sure how she felt about moving to Birch House. Elder had become home to her, with its maze of pathways, halls, and stairs. She’d miss Goodwin and his delicious cooking, as well as the presence of Callum, Alistar and Elisabeth.

But Elvie also realised that moving to Birch House could be an opportunity. She needed to weigh it up with one simple question: would moving to Birch House set back her quest to get home, or was it likely that a personal teacher would get her there faster? She had mixed emotions over working with Shrinth that ranged from worried, to curious to know what was in store.

After she’d caught the bus back to Elder House, she found Flynn sitting outside her room, idly throwing a bread loaf up and down as he munched on it.

‘Your chef does nice bread. Nice fellow too.’

Elvie nodded and opened the door to go into her room. It was her room now, as Rilla’s side was barren. The thought jogged her memory. ‘Did you speak to Rilla,’ she pleaded with Flynn.

‘I did,’ he said and bit into his bread. Elvie resisted the urge to knock it from his mouth so she could get the answer faster.

Once he’d swallowed, he replied. ‘We spoke… I think she’s receptive. I don’t know Elvie; Rilla was pretty tight-lipped on everything. I know she misses you, though.’ He shrugged. ‘So what did Shrinth want?’

‘You saw that, did you?’ Elvie gave him an overview of their conversation.

‘That’s great news!’ His enthusiasm exceeded hers exponentially. ‘Think of all the interesting skills you’ll be able to learn. I wish I was so lucky!’

He settled down to chewing, and Elvie again took in the absence of Rilla’s bed. Confiding in Flynn wasn’t the same, and not because he was a boy, but he had firm thoughts on things he wasn’t going to sway from. Everything was about learning more – always learning. In his eyes, learning was one of the most important things in life. On top of that, Flynn was still one of the people high on Elvie’s list titled: ‘I want to tell you, but haven’t yet.’ This meant that any confiding in Flynn always left a bitter taste in her mouth as she was forced to conceal certain information.

The absence of Rilla’s clothes, book, and old photos left an ache in Elvie’s chest. She stared at the emptiness longingly. I should have told her earlier… But that wouldn’t have solved the problem. Rilla would still not want her to leave, and her bed and table would still be a gaping void.

Or was it?

Because of the emptiness, it was plain to see. Propped against the bed was an old scroll.

‘What’s that?’ she pointed.

‘What?’ Flynn asked as the bread roll ventured back to his mouth.

‘That! Did you put that there?’

Flynn reached down, picked up the scroll and casually threw it to Elvie. ‘Why do you have a scroll?’

She gasped when it landed in her lap, as she sensed something different about it.

‘Oh, that’s odd,’ she said, turning the scroll over. It wasn’t large, about double the width of her hand. But it was written on old, wafer-thin parchment, which black lace encircled to keep it rolled tight.

‘What’s odd?’

‘It’s a spell!’

Flynn frowned. ‘How do you know? Wait. Why would you have a spell on your floor?’

‘But I didn’t put it there! Maybe Rilla…’ she trailed off. No, Rilla wouldn’t have put it there either. But, who did?

She untied the lace and unfurled the delicate paper. Not much was written. At the top, ‘Galw’ and below, just two words: ‘Ynn agoryllyn.’ She said them softly, so Flynn could hear, calmly enough that she would not invest any will into the casting.

‘Sounds Welsh.’ Flynn’s nose crinkled in thought. ‘At least, it kind of does, but they’re not any words I recognise, and I thought I’d come a long way with my Welsh.’

‘There are some motion diagrams as well. Why on earth would this be here? Are you sure you didn’t drop it?’

Flynn shook his head. ‘I don’t have access to scrolls. In fact, if I had to guess – a scroll formalised to that extent, with that level of detail, would be worth a hefty sum of money. If you knew what it did, you could make a tidy profit selling it on.’

‘Good point… We could cast it?’

‘Are you serious? No, are you crazy?’ Flynn scoffed. ‘We don’t even know what it does, or what it might even do.’

‘‘Galw’ means ‘summon’, I know from Oak House lessons.’

‘That doesn’t mean you should cast it! Summon demon. Summon spiders. Summon sharks… the list of things that you wouldn’t want to summon is quite extensive, you know.’

‘You don’t understand Flynn – there is something about this that feels familiar. I think this is a summoning spell for Elder House.’ A sixth sense screamed at her that this was something she should recognise.

That voice spoke. ‘Cast.’

‘But why here? Why now? We don’t know where it has come from, or why.’ Flynn argued. ‘This risk is too great!’

Elvie struggled, her intuition telling her to cast the spell despite the last outing with the cat going not quite as expected.

‘You’ve got a lot to answer for,’ she told him with her mind, hoping he would hear. She then spoke to Flynn: ‘I know if I take this to Alistar and Callum, they’ll want to study it – that’s what they do. They’ll study and study and study, and it will never see the light of day again. But you cannot learn Elder spells by study alone – I’m convinced of that. At some point, someone is going to have to embrace the risk!’

‘That doesn’t mean it has to be you!’ He clearly thought she was foolish.

‘You don’t understand. You can’t.’ It wasn’t his fault though, she’d never told Flynn the truth, never told him what really motivated her.

‘I understand you’re recklessness, and the reasons why? Because you’re in a Great House that can’t cast spells. I get that, but it isn’t a reason to throw your life away! Give it some time, Shrinth will teach you.’

But that wasn’t the reason. The way to get her life back was to try to cast Elder spells. The risk was worth the reward.

‘Cast…’

‘I’m going to do it,’ she said quietly.

‘You’re insane! Think this through – you don’t even know where it came from!’ His voice rose in pitch as he stared at her with wide angry eyes.

‘I’m still going to do it. Where there is a will, there is a way. You can go if you want, but I’ll have cast the spell before you can make it back to this room with anyone.’

The anger faded– perhaps he sensed another reason, or perhaps he was a more genuine friend than she credited him. Either way, he didn’t leave her.

His fingers danced through the air. ‘Adfer. Claritate. Pacam.’ Restore. Clarity. Peace.’ He poked her breastbone, and his spells instantly took effect. ‘Clarity of the mind, peace to ensure your casting is calm and focused – and a regenerative spell. It isn’t strong, but it will give us some protection if...’ He didn’t finish the thought, but strength and calmness imbued her from his spells. While he repeated the process on himself, she focused on her task.

‘Ready?’ she asked Flynn.

‘No… Are you certain this is what you want? I won’t leave Elvie… but we don’t have to do this, do we?’

‘Cast,’ the voice unhelpfully told her again.

She nodded firmly, conviction etched into her features.

‘Elvie…’ He looked her face over. ‘All right, I’m ready.’

She followed the motions of the scroll with her hand, but she left her focus generalised. Elvie visualised a successful casting, focusing on her happiness at the result. She couldn’t give anything more to it, as she had no real idea what it did.

In a clear voice, she said: ‘Galw Ynn agoryllyn.’

The spell rolled off her tongue and instantly met resistance – something didn’t want this spell to work, and it weighed on her like an anchor dragging her to the depths. For a fleeting moment, she was drowning, overpowered by the will of the spell. No. NO! This is for my parents. She pictured them in her mind and fought the spell with love, feeling the strength of her willpower blossom and grow from Flynn’s supporting magic. You… will… work. The staff-scar on her hand burned with a passion as whatever resistance existed shattered beneath her counterattack.

Instantly, the darkness that formed her shadow lost its shape and yawned into a vortex. She wasn’t sure what it was, but as it spiralled across the floor, growing like it fed off the light in the room. Her bed teetered on the edge as one leg crossed the threshold then listlessly fell forwards. Elvie had no way to stop herself. Flynn scrambled across the bed as she folded helplessly towards the blackness. His hand reached out to grab hers, but missed. He desperately clawed again, and this time sunk his nails into Elvie’s wrist. But he couldn’t stop her descent. A force drew her in – them now – with Flynn desperately gripping Elvie’s hand.

The black hole chewed them into its maw.

The world spun around them as they travelled at great speed. Lights whirled and fizzed and swirled around her in a kaleidoscope of colours. The roller coaster of motion she remembered from long ago was back; one moment Elvie was weightless and adrift, before gravity rammed the breath from her chest and ripped her downwards.