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She walked away and prepared herself to try it again. First she eyed the point on Morgan’s body that she was aiming for, and then she mentally formed a picture of the kind of kick she would use. She breathed in, deeply and slowly, and then, on the exhale, she ran toward him as fast as she could. But she started off on the wrong leg, so by the time she reached him, she needed to kick him with her left foot instead of her right. And she had no coordination with the left leg. Once again, she barely tapped him.

Morgan smiled patiently. “Balance is important, and you must learn to be as strong with your left leg as you are with your right.”

“It’s no use, Morgan. I’m just not very . . . athletic.”

“Nonsense! You’re far too young to say what you ‘are’ or ‘are not.’ In fact, I am too young to say it too! Perhaps a man who’s seconds from dying can make some sort of conclusion about the man that he is, but even then I think it’s presumptuous! You’ve escaped from the Brothers, on foot! You crossed the plains of Gulm, without any food! Then you escaped from the clutches of Bruce and Alma—and now you want to face the Master in person. You are no delicate flower, my dear. You are rugged and brave and you can be as forceful as a tornado if you want.”

A tornado. Josephine blushed. No one had ever seen Josephine as powerful in any way. But as she listened to Morgan, she thought to herself that maybe he was right. She had always felt that there was strength within her, bursting to get out. She’d never known, though, how to tap into it.

“How about this?” He continued with the lesson. “This time, I want you to run toward me and kick me like I’m a locked door that you need to force open.”

This image made sense to Josephine. She walked ten paces away, took a deep breath, and pictured herself as a massive tornado capable of flattening a whole town. She exhaled and went running toward Morgan, and this time, as she lifted her leg and bent her knee, she imagined her tornado-self knocking down a door and coming out the other side.

Her foot landed squarely in Morgan’s stomach, and Josephine could feel the full force of her body projecting through him. He reeled back in shock, the air knocked out of him. His bad leg collapsed underneath him and he crumpled to the ground.

“Oh, Morgan!” Josephine cried, and ran to him. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.”

He gulped for air and had to sit still for a few more seconds, but eventually, after he’d caught his breath, he began to laugh. “Yes! That’s it. Very good, Josephine!”

“But . . . you aren’t mad?”

“Of course not. You did exactly as I taught you.” He climbed to his feet and gave her a hug. “You are an excellent pupil, Josephine. And those long legs of yours are going to serve you well.”

Josephine marveled at the compliment. She’d always hated her gangly legs, and it had never occurred to her that they would be good for anything.

Just then, Ned rounded the corner. “What’s going on?”

Morgan grinned at him. “I was just teaching Josephine a few tactical moves. How did it go?”

“Well, the message was sent by horseback and the Master replied immediately. I was a bit shocked how fast.”

Morgan was startled. “You mean, he’s already answered? Let me see th—!”

Josephine interrupted. “I wrote the letter. I think I should get to see first.”

“Fair enough,” Morgan agreed, and Ned handed Josephine the letter. It was in a sealed envelope with a fancy seal stamped in wax.

As Josephine held the letter, she suddenly got very afraid. This was no longer just an idea; it was real. The Master knew about her and had written to her. She had no idea what might be in store for her.

She broke the seal and pulled out the letter, which was written on heavy parchment paper.

Dear Josephine Russing,

The Master is delighted to have a relative in his domain, and he respectfully requests your presence at his home for dinner and coffee. Please arrive promptly at seven o’clock. No guests.

Sincerely,

Mr. Seaworthy

Attaché to the Master

Josephine, wide-eyed, handed the invitation to Morgan. It had worked.

Morgan sensed her concern. “It’s not too late, Josephine. We can still take you to the Institute and get you back home.”

She shook her head. “No! I’m going through with our plan. If Ned is still willing.” She looked at Ned, her eyes forming a soft plea.

“Of course I’m still in.”

Relieved, Josephine smiled. “But the invitation says seven o’clock! How will we get there in time?”

Morgan studied the invitation again. “I know someone who might be able to help us.”

Morgan tottered off to find transportation, leaving Ned and Josephine alone in the apartment to get ready to leave. Ned packed a bag while Josephine kept practicing her new kick in a mirror. She was amazed that it was her in the reflection. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were electric. Her hair was out of her face and the concentration the exercise required gave her a fierce look, like one of the heroines in her books.

After a while she got winded and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. She drank it down in one gulp, and when she looked up, she found Ned staring at her, a strange expression on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“What’s it feel like?”

“What’s what feel like?”

“Passing through a magic door.”

“Oh. Well . . . there’s not much to describe, really. It felt like I was falling for a really long time, and a bit like my insides were on my outside, if that makes any sense, and then I landed. And that was it.”

“Do people look the same as we do where you come from? Or do they look funny?”

Are sens

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