Kenna
It’s quiet here. The golden walls and spirling columns soak up the sun as I walk steadily toward my dad’s office. Beyond giant ceiling-height windows, the sparkling city of Moonrise, the capital of Eastonia, spreads out in a sea of cream and gold until it touches the banks of a lake the color of polished turquoise.
On the opposite shore, at the base of a towering network of mountains, sits Old Moonrise–the original witch coven native to the Roguelands. Once, twenty or so years ago, there used to be a palace built of crystal sitting on a ridge overlooking the old village and the lake.
Until, well, my mother destroyed it.
I smile softly at the thought of my mom and pick up my pace, my sandals clacking against the white marble tiles.
I turn a sharp corner, nodding hello to a tr
