Later that afternoon, Ariadne sat in the courtyard, looking
at her mother’s book. She was frustrated that her spell had not worked. “How am
I going to protect myself from grandfather, if I can’t concoct a workable
spell?” She wondered aloud. “This is the same as imprisonment.” Exasperated she
tossed the book into the flower bed, raising a flurry of dust, scattering
insects and birds.
“Ow, Arie, that hurts!”
Startled, Ariadne saw coming from under the book, a glowing
orb, growing larger amongst the jasmine. It burst open and Ariadne saw, a
beautiful creature rubbing her head in pain.
