Day Leitao - Step into Magic

Copyright 2018 by Day Leitao

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Ebook ISBN: 978-1-7750637-4-2

Print Book ISBN: 978-1-7750637-5-9

M ore than anything, Karina hated to be wrong.

Wait. There was something worse: admitting she was wrong.

Just the thought sent her into a hair-raising shiver. But there she was, giving herself a firm reminder: never accept invitations to alternate worlds from strangers.

Quite useless advice, considering the odds of this experience ever being repeated. How could thoughtful, logical Karina have fallen for that? How did it even start? Ah, yes she was looking for something. Something impressive. Something great. Something meaningful. She found something all right, but she was far from sure it was any of those.

As with any journey, it started with a walk.

Karina loathed questions without clear answers. Why couldnt everything be simple, like math? Either the answers wrong or its right. No maybes or almosts. That meant she hated history, especially that last stupid test and the embarrassing grade that came with it.

But did it even matter? She wanted to believe that life could be greater than just projects and school and family and classmates and all that day-to-day sameness. Karina stopped. Her feet had carried her some fifteen blocks from her apartment, and she found herself in a busy commercial street with nice shops, cafes, and restaurants. People passed by and the world moved around her while she tried to figure out where she fit inand where she didnt, unable to find where that emptiness in her chest had come from. It wasnt just her low social studies grades.

Glittery letters on a cardboard spelled Yard Sale, without any translation. This was an English neighborhood in a French-speaking city. Curious and having no real direction, she followed the sign.

Junk lay over brown, overgrown grass in front of an ancient, decrepit wooden house. There were coats, small objects, boots, and too many shoes to count. Karina wondered who would want other peoples smells. Most shoes were somber: brown or black and slightly worn. One pair stood out, though, as the shoes almost looked like they were made of steel, not really for wearing, just decorative objects shaped like silver flats. Out of curiosity, Karina touched them. The feeling surprised herthey were as soft as fleece.

An old woman with a grey ponytail sat on a rocking chair, behind all the stuff. Karina asked her, Excuse me, what material is this?

The woman didnt raise her eyes from a brown leather-bound book she was gripping. I have no idea.

Karina pretended to take a closer look at the shoes just to check if they had any unwanted smell without being rude or obvious. Thankfully there was none.

Theyre ten dollars, the woman said, this time standing next to Karina as if implying she should either buy them or stop touching.

Karina put the shoes back on the chair where shed found them.

The woman stared at her. Size seven.

That was Karinas size, but she hadnt asked that question and wasnt planning on buying any of that crap. She turned around and walked away.

As she was getting home, she kept thinking how those silver shoes were curious objects. They felt so different from how they looked, and ten dollars was not a lot of money. But used shoes were a bad idea. Those didnt seem used, but who knew? Ten dollars could go for something more important, like chocolateperhaps not that important. When would she ever see shoes like those again? A disturbing thought crossed her mind. What if someone else bought them? Those precious shoes were a bargain. Someone would probably notice them. This could not be. Karina ran back as fast as she could.

The silver shoes were still there, shiny as ever, reflecting the sunlight. Panting, she gave the money to the woman and grabbed them. I wanna take these.

They were Karinas now.

Cayla closed her book. She had memorized all the maps of Whyland; every river, every mountain, every major city, and yet, they remained two-dimensional: paintings on paper, still images without much meaning. Beyond the walls of the castle was a world she had yet to see with her own eyes. There was also someone she hadnt seen in over a year. Her chest tightened. She closed her eyes and tried to forget those memories and the pain they brought with them.

Inside, there was still something she wanted to learn. If she pressed her old teacher, sometimes he taught her a little, but only sometimes.

Master Odell raised his eyes. I see youre finished. Well pick more books from the library. Any subject youre interested in?

He seemed to be in a good mood. Caylas younger sister Ayanna was not in the room, so perhaps that was her chance. Its not in books. At least not in any we'd find in the main library here. You know much more than youve taught us.

A flash of understanding crossed Odell's face but he sighed. Some things need to be buried. Forgotten. Or at least thats what your father wants.

He doesnt need to know.

Odell shook his head. I serve your father, Cayla.

Cayla gave up and stared at her book. Odell was in a bad mood.

Karina stared at the shoes in her hands. Shoes. Right. Hardly an answer to some great question she was yet to ask. But the shoes were prettyand different from any she'd ever seen. Despite their shiny finish, they were thin and flexible, almost like real ballet flats, but the sole was thicker, like normal shoes. Mysterious and fascinating, theyd become her special secret, a secret she didnt want to share with anyone, not even her friends.

A knock on the door startled her. Karina barely had time to shove her glistening shoes in the closet before Zoe walked in pulling a trolley suitcase. Overkill for a sleepover, but hey, to each their own quirks. For the first time since theyd become friends, Zoe was early, and Karinas mom must have welcomed her in through the front door.

Zoe spread the outfits onto the bed. I brought clothes. For you and me. Youll look so good you wont even recognize yourself.

Karina stared at her friend. Zoe was pretty and all, and Karina didnt usually mind her enthusiasm for fashion, but sometimes she went too far. Plus, Karina was perfectly comfortable with her own non-supermodel looks, wavy brown hair and eyes, thank you.

Zoe cleared her throat. I meant you usually look great. Youre cute. Its just, sometimes, its a matter of mixing and matching, trying different things. Not that you have to lend me anything

Karina shrugged. You can have anything you want.

Zoe smiled. Thanks.

The idea of Zoe borrowing anything from Karina was rather preposterous, as her clothes were so much plainer than her friends, but at least she didnt want to make her feel bad about it.