Free Ordinary Magic by Caitlen Rubino-Bradway Page B

desperate enough for an ord that theychased us down and threw fireballs,” Alexa said. “If one pair of adventurers are that desperate, it won’t be long before they, or someone else, turn their greedy little minds to this school.”
    “The children are safe here,” Mr. O’Hara said, more to Mom and Dad than Alexa.
    “Here, yes. Absolutely. No worries. But outside?” Alexa turned to us. “I’ll be saying good-bye now. I have to speak to His Majesty.” She hugged me tight, twice. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished, okay? Save me a seat at dinner.” I nodded and she kissed Mom and Dad, apologizing, “I’m sorry. It’s work; I can’t help it.”
    “We understand,” Mom said, planting kisses on her cheeks. “We’ll see you soon.” The
or else
was implied.
    As Alexa rushed off, Mr. O’Hara turned to Mom and Dad. “You must be Miss Hale’s parents,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Miss Hale has told us quite a lot about your family, though I’m certain she’s told you next to nothing of what she does here. Let me assure you, Alexa is our single greatest champion. You should be very proud of her.”
    “We are,” Mom said. You could hear it in her voice.
    He smiled down at me. “Miss Hale has told us all about you as well, Miss Abigail.”
    “I hope not all,” I said, because I have got plenty of embarrassing stories.
    “No need to worry, almost all of it was good.”
    Mr. O’Hara greeted Fred and Frances and Peter and welcomed us to the Margaret Green School. He said he hoped we were as excited to start the school year as they were. “If youwould follow Mr. Dimitrios here”—we looked around for a Mr. Dimitrios—“he will take you to your rooms and hand out your keys. You are all on the second floor.” The courtyard was open and sunny but I couldn’t see anyone. I glanced at Fred, who shrugged. Peter still had his head in his book and Frances kept her eyes glued to the ground.
    “They finally showed.” The voice was a low, warm rasp, like gravel and sand. I jumped, and Frances let out a little squeak. Peter smiled.
    Suddenly there was a mountain next to us, one with horns.
    Mr. Dimitrios was a minotaur. A real minotaur; the hoofs, the horns, the tail, the nose ring, even the spear, it was all there. His horns were short, just peeking out of his floppy hair, which made him look young—well, youngish. Minotaurs don’t really like people knowing things like how they age and how old they get. I had never seen a minotaur before except on those shows where they interview movie stars; huge and hulking in the background are the minotaur bodyguards. Which is probably why Mom and Dad were smiling so much as they shook Mr. Dimitrios’s hand. If this school had hired a minotaur, even a young one, they were serious about security.
    It also helps if you don’t get weirded out easily. Minotaurs are a strange race. They’re magical beings—they can interact with, or manipulate, or use magic, whatever the right word is. But they choose not to lots of times, and that freaks out some folks. I guess they think it’s simpler to just punch someone in the face, the old-fashioned way.
    Before we could recover from that little surprise, Beckyherded us toward the west side of the building. Mr. Dimitrios joined us, one of his strides eating up three of ours. He was big and muscular and hairy, but his fearsome beast image was ruined somewhat by his wide, lopsided smile.
    Becky stopped at a door that was mostly bars and an enormous lock and hauled it open one armed.
    It turns out we weren’t the only people at the school—kids were here tucked away in the dorm. There were doors open all along the first-floor hall, and we heard the buzz of conversation and music, and someone complaining loudly about having to do laundry. As we climbed up a flight of stairs to a bright-white hallway, three kids raced by us going the other direction. Becky barked at them to slow