Master George stared at Aaron, with brows furrowed and lips pursed. Aaron suspected more questions were coming. He shuffled his feet again and looked down. There had to be a way to get rid of this tutor sooner rather than later.
“I wonder, boy,” Master George murmured, twirling his dagger, “if you’re the only one injured, can you still heal yourself?”
“I—I don’t know,” Aaron stammered.
With two long strides, Master George closed the distance between them. A sharp pain bloomed in Aaron’s stomach, far worse than the effects of his healing magic. Master George stepped back, empty-handed. Aaron gaped at his stomach. The knife stuck out from his torn shirt, blood pooling around it. He grasped its wooden handle and clutched his side, trying to draw on his healing magic without any luck.
“I can’t stop the bleeding!” Aaron cried. He looked up at Master George. “I can’t do anything. Please, help me.”
Master George’s face twisted into a smirk. “I know the truth about you. You’re no different than that wretched Lady Florella.” He spat at Aaron’s feet. Then he opened a window and climbed down into the garden below.
Aaron pressed his hands to his abdomen and gritted his teeth against the pain. He reached the library door and attempted to turn the handle, but he couldn’t get a good grip because his hands were slick with blood. He rubbed his right palm on his pant leg until it was dry and managed to turn the handle just enough to push open the door.
“Help!” he called into the hallway.
Immediately, his mother rushed around the corner. What was she doing here? Usually, Nora was already in the courtyard before Aaron woke up, training her squadron of combat mages.
She stared at him with her eyes wide. “What happened?”
“Master George attacked me,” Aaron gasped.
Nora gestured to the servant who had followed her into the hallway. “Go get a healer! Now!”
She led her son back inside the library and helped him into an armchair next to the window. “Where did he go?”
“He’s in the garden.” Aaron winced in pain.
Nora’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be right back,” she hissed before leaping out the open window. She barreled toward Master George and sent a barrage of translucent daggers at him. He didn’t have a chance to see them coming. They struck his back, and he screamed and crumpled to the ground.
Aaron’s father rushed into the room, breathless. A healer in long white robes scurried in after him. Jonathan approached and squeezed Aaron’s hand. “You’re going to be okay, son.”
Aaron nodded but found that he couldn’t speak. His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. His father scooped him up and carried him to a blanket by the fireplace. Darkness consumed him.
Elara rubbed her arms as a chill in the air brushed over her. She pulled her light brown cloak tighter around her shoulders and undid the knots in the ribbon that tied up her wavy, wheat-colored hair, letting the tresses fall around her neck. Her father used to tease her whenever she stayed out working with the crops until dusk, claiming she was just another corn stalk blending in. She was tall and thin, with tanned skin that almost matched the color of her cloak.
It was just recently that Bennet Wynstrom had taught her to blend in with the trees of the forest. She always knew she was good with plants, but it wasn’t until Bennet found her that she understood the true extent of her powers. She could do more than just heal the plants she worked with—she could become one of them. So far, she had only managed it twice with any success, but she was getting better at it. Like a wood nymph straight out of a fairytale, her limbs and torso turned a sinewy dark green, and her hair became a cascade of leaves dotted with tiny yellow flowers.
Despite the thrill she experienced in her transformation, she sometimes regretted that Bennet found her. She would still be with her family now if it weren’t for him. But if Bennet hadn’t found her first, one of the Defenders of the True Four might have.
Elara never would have guessed that she was a hybrid mage. How could she be when no one else in her family even possessed any of the usual magical faculties? It was only after Bennet contacted her parents six months ago that she learned the truth. Her birth parents had died when she was two years old, and the father she could no longer remember was a combat mage. A fire burned down their house. Elara only survived because of her abilities. Her aunt and uncle found her in a mud pit surrounded by charred vine tendrils. Somehow, Elara had reached into the earth with her magic and guided the vines to the surface, opening up a wellspring in the middle of the family’s kitchen.
Elara’s aunt and uncle didn’t have any children of their own at that time, and they adopted her. Her brother and sisters were really her three younger cousins. She frequently reminded herself that she left before others discovered her abilities in order to keep her family safe. Anyone who didn’t know of Elara’s adoption would assume Rylan, Adaline, and Bella were also hybrid mages. Hybrid magic was the genetic outcome of a specific and rare family lineage traced back through four generations, and siblings with that lineage would all be hybrid mages. Her family’s luck with farming had always caused rumors, which made it better for Elara to get far away from prying eyes.
When Theo lay down in his bed, he had a hard time falling asleep. It was just his luck. The mattress was lumpy, and he found himself unable to get his mind off Tristan. He stared at the dark ceiling and remembered their last encounter. He couldn’t even count how many times he had recalled the same memory. It came to him less often than it used to, but it was still just as clear as if it had happened yesterday. Every time, he felt like he was watching a one-act play performed only for him.
In this imagined play, Theo was an onlooker watching himself from afar. He was packing his things for school. His mother had left an apple and a sealed container of stew on the kitchen counter for him. He noticed his mother also left a note in her scratchy handwriting that said she had to leave early to go visit her cousin in the next town over, but she loved him and hoped he had a good day at school. His father buttoned up the front coat of his constable’s uniform and was about to walk out the door when he noticed his son, patted him on the shoulder, and said a gruff goodbye before heading to work.
Tristan came in the back door a moment later, his white shirt stained with grease and unbuttoned at the top. He smelled of alcohol and slurred his words. “Off to schul, baby bruver?”
Theo squared his shoulders and stood taller. “Go take a bath, Tris. Get yourself cleaned up before Papa comes home for lunch.”
“Don’t wanna,” Tristan said, shaking his head vigorously. “Y’know I went to a meetin’ last night. Very intrstin’ it was. I got up and made a lil’ speech.”
Theo narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Why are you telling me all this? I need to leave, or I’ll be late for school again.”
“Because my speech was all ’bout you, baby bruver. I’m a Defender of the True Four now.”
“What does that even mean?”
Tristan grabbed a bottle off a nearby shelf and smashed it on the kitchen counter, causing glass shards to scatter all over the wooden floor. He held the bottle out in front of him, swinging the jagged edge toward Theo’s face.
Theo took a step backwards, reaching for the door handle. He fumbled with it for a few moments until he managed to push the door open and ran outside. Tristan pursued him, still waving the broken bottle around like a sword.
“As a Defender, it’s my duty to get rid of the likes of you, baby bruver. You and your dark magic are a poison. Tha’s what they said at the meetin’.” Tristan slashed at Theo, finally leaving a cut on the left side of his jaw.
Theo reached out to push Tristan away, grabbing Tristan’s unbuttoned collar in the process. A strange energy filled the air, and Tristan’s collar tightened like a noose around his neck. Theo let go of the collar with a look of horror, but it kept tightening. Tristan dropped the bottle he had been using as a weapon and choked for air as his face turned red.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do it, I swear!” Theo cried, his hands trembling.
What can we expect from you in the future?
Hybrid Magic is the start of a trilogy, so you can expect to see the rest of the books coming out over the next couple years! After that, I might venture into a different genre. Fantasy is my favorite, but I would love to try writing some sci-fi or dystopian stories too.
Do you have any “side stories” about the characters?
Hybrid Magic is a spinoff that takes place ten years after the storyline of my first standalone novel, The Temple Dancer’s Diary. Some characters with smaller roles in The Temple Dancer’s Diary are now getting their chance in the spotlight with a story of their own.
Can you tell us a little bit about the characters in Hybrid Magic?
This book is told from three different character perspectives, so I’ll share a bit about each of them.
First, Aaron Ztrong is a fourteen-year-old hybrid mage who became famous when he was younger for defeating another powerful mage. His magic abilities include healing, transforming objects, and making things levitate and fly through the air. His parents see so much potential in him, but he would rather spend his time with his friends and enjoy relaxing hobbies like fishing. He is a prankster who will do anything to get out of his lessons until his life is threatened by a group known as the Defenders who hunt down hybrid mages.
Second, Elara Pratt is a sixteen-year-old hybrid mage who grew up in a small farming village with her three younger siblings. Her magic involves helping plants flourish and grow in any environment. She can even transform into a dryad-like creature herself. After leaving her family behind to learn more about her abilities, she moves to a forest haven that was established to train and protect hybrid mages from the ruthless Defenders. Elara is optimistic, caring, and always eager to make a new friend. But no one is allowed to mess with her garden or any of her plant babies!
Finally, Theo Darien is a seventeen-year-old hybrid mage who grew up idolizing his father, a celebrated constable. Theo dreamed of having combat magic like his dad so that he too could take down criminals. He was initially excited upon discovering his unique abilities to transform any object into a weapon. Then his older half brother joined the Defenders and attempted to kill him because of those abilities. After running away from home, Theo was taken in by a teacher who promised to train and protect him. Theo is quiet and studious, yet also racked with guilt over his final confrontation with his brother. Now he is determined not to hurt anyone with his magic and will only use his powers for good.
What did you enjoy most about writing this book?
After writing my first book from a single perspective in first-person diary entries, I enjoyed writing this book in third-person point of view with multiple different character perspectives.
Who designed your book covers?
My best friend Naomi Henry designed both of my book covers. She is an amazing artist, and I was overjoyed that she wanted to work with me.
Are your characters based off real people or did they all come entirely from your imagination?
There are some personality traits each of my characters have that I based off of real people, but for the most part they came from my imagination.
Do your characters seem to hijack the story or do you feel like you have the reigns of the story?
My characters do hijack the story from time to time! I always create an outline before I start writing with major plot points that I want to include in each chapter, so I try to stick to that outline pretty closely for the plot and pacing. The characters develop more organically though. I start out with a few key personality traits in mind for each character, and then I see how they interact with one another. Sometimes their interactions and dialogue will surprise me by taking my story in cool new directions.
If your book had a candle, what scent would it be?
My book would have an autumn candle to match the cover art. It would be a burnt orange color with a woodsy scent containing a mixture of apple, pumpkin spice, and cloves.
Is there an writer which brain you would love to pick for advice? Who would that be and why?
I would love to get writing advice from Tamora Pierce. Her young adult fantasy books set in the Tortall Universe were my favorites growing up. The characters were nuanced, and the stories were so empowering for teenaged girls.
Fun Facts/Behind the Scenes/Did You Know?'-type tidbits about the author, the book or the writing process of the book.
I wrote the whole first draft of Hybrid Magic while I was pregnant with my daughter. I like to think that she was my muse, sparking inspiration whenever I experienced writer’s block.
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