Page 24 of The Princess of Portals

I made a run for the trapped Apprentices, but the Techno Knight was faster. He tossed the clothing racks aside. I sent more at him, all the ones in the shop this time. That slowed him down a bit, but not enough. He still stood between me and the Apprentices, and he wasn’t moving.

Ok, fine. Be that way. Time for Plan B. I teleported to the Apprentices.

“Everyone, grab on to one another,” I instructed them.

As they hurried to do as I said, I tried really hard not to think about the fact that I’d never teleported eight people—plus myself—all at once before. This would work. It had to.

Of course it didn’t. There was only so far stubbornness could get you, and I’d already hit that limit. When I tried to teleport, I just couldn’t. I pushed and heaved and grunted, but all that happened was I felt like I was slamming into a wall. Blood sprinkled the floor. My blood. Oh, splendid. My nose was bleeding.

Ok, so teleporting was too big of a spell for me right now. I tried something smaller. I cast a stop spell on the Templar, or tried to anyway. He slowed but didn’t stop. He was still moving toward us. I frowned. I’d hardly slowed him down at all. And now blood was dripping from my ears as well as from my nose. The world flipped, like a boat capsizing, and I fell to the ground.

The Templar’s heavy boots thumped toward me, slow but steady. I was done for.

Then, suddenly, he stopped and turned to look at something I couldn’t see. I was dizzy and my vision wasn’t all that great. I heard noises. It sounded like magic, like a rapid flurry of spells. All sorts of spells from all sorts of supernatural races.

The Techno Knight grunted, staggering back. He tried to fight, but he was off balance. Another blast of magic hit him hard, sending him flying through the broken window.

A hand reached down to me. I looked up and saw Nevada. She and Sophia and Sophie and Cindy and Tari had positioned themselves in a ring around me. Magic simmered on their hands and halos. They’d combined their magic, working together to bombard the Templar with more spells than his armor could handle.

My mouth dropped in shock. “It was you guys? You fought off the Templar?”

Tari’s eyes narrowed into tiny points. “Try not to sound so surprised. You’re not the only Apprentice with magic, Savannah Winters.”

I took Nevada’s hand, allowing her to help me to my feet. “I’m not surprised that you have magic. I’m surprised that you used it to help me.”

“Of course we helped you,” Sophie said. “We’re going to be Knights, so we might as well act like them.”

Sophia nodded in agreement. They all nodded.

“Thanks, girls.”

Laughter sliced through the room like a well-sharpened blade. “How touching.”

The smile died on my lips. That’s what we got for celebrating too soon. The Templar stepped into the shop. He lifted his left hand, casting a spell that threw Sophie, Sophia, and Cindy off their feet.

“How inspiring.”

He lifted his right hand, and Nevada, Tari, and I joined them, six bobbing bobbles floating in the air.

“How useless.”

A gust of wind blasted through the shop, knocking us back, pinning us to the wall like fruit flies caught in a pool of sticky syrup.

“Savannah Winters.”

He strode toward me, his armor ablaze with blood-red magic. I struggled against the spell holding me there. From all the grunting and growling, I knew my fellow Apprentices were struggling too. None of us made any progress.

“This is where your journey ends.”

An arrow whistled through the hole in the shop and sank into the wall between me and Nevada. There was a breaking sound, like glass shattering, then all six Apprentices dropped to the floor. The Templar’s spell was broken.

A man in a dark hood and cloak appeared in the opening. His face was shroud in shadows, and he wore a mask, but I could make out sharp, humorless lines and even sharper eyes. They were one hundred percent focused on the Templar. They didn’t waver, didn’t blink, didn’t flicker in our direction, not even for a second. All he saw was his target.

The masked man shot an arrow into an opening in the Templar’s armor. The Templar retreated back a few steps, clutching his arm.

The masked man fired more arrows. He knew exactly where to aim them. The arrows exploded on impact, blowing off chunks of the Templar’s armor.

“A Metamorph,” I said to myself.