The first day of Halle's last year of high school passed rather unremarkably. She suffered a bit of a social faux pas before third period, which caused her cheeks to burn for what felt like the rest of the day, but for the most part, she returned home unscathed.

Ian suggested they head down to the local bar, Elixirs and Brews, for dinner ("to celebrate," he had said). The place wasn't anything fancy, but it was charming enough, and the jukebox kept cranking out songs that Halle liked. Their food was tasty, nothing mind blowing, but the bartender kept their drinks full and the other patrons provided welcome entertainment.

Across the room, a girl with an apparent fondness for pink kept catching Halle's eye. Not wanting a repeat of her awkwardness at school, Halle kept her distance, though she couldn't help but be intrigued by the design on the girl's sweater. It featured a broomstick that vaguely reminded Halle of the ones in Henry Puffer... could this girl be a fan, as well?

Before Halle could refocus her thoughts, the girl was right in front of her, waving excitedly.

"Hi! You're new in town, right?" The girl's voice was light and airy, almost like she was out of breath. "I'm Margaux. Margaux Beaumont."

She offered her hand to Halle, quite formally.

"Halle," she said, impressed by Margaux's handshake technique. "Halle Langdon?"

The girl laughed, the most melodic laugh Halle had ever heard.

"Halle Langdon. It's a pleasure. Have a seat with me?"

Before she knew it, Halle and Margaux had been talking for over a half an hour. Ian had excused himself a little while earlier and he couldn't keep the smirk off of his face as he offered a quick "see you at home" to his daughter -- Halle wasn't normally so quick to warm up to new people.

"Have you done much exploring?" Margaux asked, chin in her hands.

"Not really," Halle admitted. "Not much time. You know, school and unpacking?"

"Then I'll take you. Tomorrow. I'll meet you at your house."

Halle had never met someone so upfront, so confident. Her friendships from back home (well, this was her home now, wasn't it?) had been slow to start, slow to build, but once they had, they were unbreakable. Margaux seemed like the type to jump headfirst into anything.

As time went on and Halle stifled her fourth yawn, she realized she should probably call it a night. First, though, she had one more question for her new friend.

"I was just wondering, um, is your sweater a Henry Puffer reference?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Halle felt a blush creep across her cheeks. She had never been ashamed by her love for the series before but, for some reason, mentioning it in front of Margaux felt juvenile, misjudged.

"It's not," Margaux said, mouth turning up at the corners. "But my brother would love that you thought so. He's always begging me to read those books."

Needless to say, Halle went home feeling like she had hit the friendship jackpot.

The next day, with his daughter at school, Ian finally had to confront what he had been avoiding for the few days since moving in: the locked room at the top of the stairs. Colleen had given him the key before her death, with only a few simple pieces of information. She told him that the plants would still be living, no matter how long it had been since they had last been cared for. The cauldron would be empty, and she specifically told him not to touch it. Finally, she told him to only let Halle see the room when she would truly appreciate what it meant. How was he supposed to know when that was?

Ian wasn't a stranger to his wife's magical inclinations. He also wasn't a stranger to the fact that his daughter would probably have the same ones. Nurturing her love of Henry Puffer wasn't just for Halle's enjoyment, it was also for open-mindedness, acceptance, hope that when the day came that she'd discover the reality of magic, it would be met with respect and curiosity, not disdain.


And with the move to Glimmerbrook finally a reality, Ian couldn't shake the feeling that that day was coming much sooner than he may have been ready for.

Margaux was home schooled, Halle had learned, so while it was a bit of a surprise that the former was waiting at Halle's house when she got off of the bus, it made sense.

"Do you want to see the secret of Glimmerbrook?"

Halle was caught off-guard by the question. What could this little town possibly be hiding? But Margaux wanted to show her, and Halle wanted to spend time with her new friend, so her answer was easy.

"Sure?"

"'Sure, question mark' or 'sure, period'?" Margaux put her hands on her hips and looked Halle right in the eyes. "Because I'm not sure if I can trust this secret with a 'sure, question mark' kind of person."

"Yes," Halle said, putting as much confidence as she could into her voice. "Show me."

Margaux's face lit up. "Let's go then."






The secret of Glimmerbrook came into view just a couple of seconds after Margaux's words.

"What is that?" Halle doubted Margaux could hear her over the waterfalls that surrounded them.

She couldn't believe her eyes. In front of her stood a giant stone arch, with incredible detail. It looked completely natural, like it rose out of the ground just as the flowers surrounding it did. The arch was radiating some kind of energy, an oil spill-like cloudiness in its center.

Halle felt lightning under her skin. It crackled inside of her, struck her bones and lit up her nerves.


"Can you feel it?" Margaux asked. Her voice was quiet but it echoed through Halle's mind.

"Feel what?" A silly question. Halle felt it, whatever it was. She couldn't tear her eyes off of the arch.

Halle felt a hand on her back. Margaux's, or a ghost's -- Halle couldn't doubt anything now. The touch amplified her electricity tenfold, and while she normally would move away from such a touch, it was comforting now, protective.


"This is our portal," Margaux said.

Halle turned to face her. "Your portal? No. Wait. Your portal?!"

"First things first," Margaux's face was lit up, the portal's colors dancing in her eyes. "Can you feel it? The lightning jumping through the air? The crackle under your skin?"

"How did you know?" Halle couldn't bring herself to just say 'yes.' Her mind raced with thought after thought.

"Glimmerbrook isn't just a small town with lots of trees," Margaux said. "We're connected to a different place, right through that portal."

Halle couldn't speak. She stared at Margaux, eyes wider than she previously thought possible.

"What if Henry Puffer were real?"



"I have a magic friend?" Halle asked, more to herself than anything. "This is a joke, right?"

"I'm serious, Halle. I know it's a lot to understand. But magic is real. It's in the air like oxygen, but only certain people can feel it. Me, my brother... and, if I'm right, you."

Could Margaux be right? Could Halle have magic in her blood? As she peered through the portal, she saw nothing but real life, blurry and distorted, like Vaseline on a camera lens. Surely she couldn't be a Spellcaster... or could she?

"Let's go home," she said, turning away from the portal and taking the first few steps to get back on the path.

Margaux nodded, eyes scanning Halle's face. "I'm sorry if this was too much," she said. "From our first words last night, I could feel the electricity coming off of you. I knew I could show you."

"I believe you," Halle answered. "It's just a lot."

She looked back at Margaux, pink bangs askew in the breeze. Halle felt something, that was for sure. She didn't know if it was electricity or magic or friendship or more, but she couldn't deny that it was there. And if she didn't figure out what it was soon, she thought she just might incinerate from all of the lightning inside of her.