Lola Smith's Arc

Chapter 1 of 6

Lola Smith burned a hole through the kitchen table by accident. She was only trying to reach for the bread. Her right hand sparked orange, her left frosted the crumbs with ice, and her tail knocked the chair flat. She was ten years old, and she did not know how to stop any of it. Three bloodlines lived inside her. Half of her was human. The rest was demon and dragon, and she had the horns and wings to prove it. Somewhere out there were the parents who had given her all of it. She wanted to find them. She wanted to learn what she was. But no one had ever taught her a single spell, so the magic taught itself, and it taught itself wrong. Her wings twitched when she was scared. Her fingers lit up when she was angry. Yesterday she had cried, and every window in the house had cracked. She was starting to think she was dangerous to be near. So she left before she could break anything else. She walked until she found a tower she had only heard about in stories. It rose pale and tall, covered in glowing marks she could not read. Diamond-shaped windows glowed blue and pink. A crystal burned at the very top. The carved doors stood shut, but warmth leaked out through the seams, the kind that pulls you closer instead of pushing you back. Lola pressed her palm flat against the wood. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she whispered. "I just want to learn." Her hand flared. Fire and frost poured out of her at once, more than ever before. She braced for the doors to burn. They did not burn. The glowing marks along the tower drank her magic up. Fire, frost, shadow, all of it flowed into the walls and vanished. The marks brightened. The doors swung inward on their own. Inside, the air felt cool and steady. The heat under her skin faded to a low hum. For the first time in weeks, her wings lay flat and her hands stayed still. The tower had swallowed the wild part of her and held it safe. Stairs curled up into the light above. On the bottom step sat a folded gray cloak and a single lit candle, waiting. Someone had left them there. Someone knew a girl like her would come. Lola climbed one step. Then she stopped. The candle flame bent toward the stairs, as if pointing the way. She was safe now. But she was not alone in this tower, and whoever waited above her already knew what she was. She gripped the cloak and started to climb.