Hidden Power Read Online Free PDF Page A

that looked more like servants. A young man caught her eye, long blond hair and luminous brown eyes, a soft, full nose and even fuller lips. He paused in his step, opened his mouth as if to greet her and, looking up at her more dignified companion, merely nodded and kept rushing along.
    The old man nodded. “I can see you’ve caught the eye of one of our young squires, Kayne.”
    “Squires?” she asked, but what she really wanted was to know more about young Kayne.
    “Mages in training, my dear.”
    No one else seemed to take notice of Aurora, or even her tiny Nayer, as the odd progression moved silently, even swiftly, through the crystal halls of Mage City. People were bustling about, but all seemed to make way for the kindly man who had invited Aurora to the fabled city of Ythuria.
    She could hardly believe her good fortune, or contain her excitement. The man paused outside a clear, glittering door and, with a wave of his staff, it opened to reveal a warm, inviting room with soft red lounges and small black tables. They, too, seemed stone-like and yet softer somehow, as if carved in place but with a master’s touch.
    “Sit,” he said. Almost as quickly as she did, a young woman in a white tunic approached, bearing a tray loaded with a teapot and two cups. 
    The old man nodded as she placed them on the carved crystal table in front of them. “Salamander root tea,” he explained, pouring for them both. “To revive your spirits.”
    She nodded, speechless. It was almost as if he could read her mind. She hadn’t felt tired, not really, until at last she sat in the comfortable red lounge cushion. The mug was heavy and white and warm in her hand as she sipped it cautiously. It was warm, but not too hot, and had a delicious spicy flavor. 
    “Uhhm,” she said. The young servant girl smiled and then took the Nayer’s rope. 
    “It’s okay,” the man said before Aurora could protest. “Nayers need refreshments, too.”
    Soon the little gray beast was gone and Aurora watched as more servants entered, bearing trays and plates of all sorts of treats, from frosted pastries to bubbling cheese to seared sweet meats to frozen custards that melted on her tongue with textures both rich and creamy.
    She ate until she was full – and then ate still more – and openly marveled at the old man’s restraint. “You haven’t touched a thing,” she said, eyes growing heavy. 
    “If you insist,” he said, reaching for a gleaming, decadent pastry shaped like a figure-8. He ate it with long, delicate fingers and, when he was done, brushed crumbs from his long, gray beard. “Might I ask your name, now that we’ve shared a meal?”
    “I’m Aurora,” she said, wiping a hand on her peasant blouse self-consciously before extending it for his.
    “I’m Iragos,” he said, rolling the name around on his tongue. She smiled; it sounded like he looked: dignified, careful, mystical. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
    She smirked, buoyed by the sugar and spice and everything nice. “I bet you say that to all the farm girls you find wandering in the Wandering Woods, staring up at your glass city.”
    He shook his head. “Not hardly. In fact, Aurora, most mortals can’t even see Ythuria.”
    She sat up slightly, easing along the polished surface of the crystal lounge. “Really? But… but… it’s sitting right there, as plain as the nose on your face. How… how could they not see it, Iragos?”
    He smiled. “Why do you think I invited you up here, dear? You are very special, indeed.”
    “I… am?”
    “Didn’t you know?” he asked.
    “No,” she said, averting her eyes. “No, I didn’t.”
    But she was lying, sort of. Aurora had always been, if not special, then at least a little… different. It was nothing she could put her finger on, just a vague sense that made her stand out from her classmates, even her family. Sometimes she answered a question before it was asked. 
    She would say, “Twelve!” only