Misfit, thirteen year old Ara is one of the youngest students training to become a Scholar in the Order of the Flame. She hails from a long line of healers who practice the old magicâhealing with their hands, hearts and plants. But the professors at the Citadel favor the new magicâa blend of psychic power and technologyâand Araâs intuitive powers begin to land her in trouble.
So when the Citadelâs Sacred Flameâlit from the wood of the mythical World Tree, Earthâs only connection to the starsâis replaced by fakery, Ara knows that its Keeper is hiding a dark secret. She is tasked by the Flameâs ancient guardian with locating a seed that will rekindle the light.
Braving the threat of Shadow Storms, Ara enters the forest in search of an exiled Scholar who can lead her to the World Tree. Guided by two unusual insects, and Immersed in a world of elementals and portals in trees, Ara quickly learns that sheâs not the only one looking for a treasure from the World Treeâand something far more sinister than a Shadow Storm is hunting herâŚ
Misfit, thirteen year old Ara is one of the youngest students training to become a Scholar in the Order of the Flame. She hails from a long line of healers who practice the old magicâhealing with their hands, hearts and plants. But the professors at the Citadel favor the new magicâa blend of psychic power and technologyâand Araâs intuitive powers begin to land her in trouble.
So when the Citadelâs Sacred Flameâlit from the wood of the mythical World Tree, Earthâs only connection to the starsâis replaced by fakery, Ara knows that its Keeper is hiding a dark secret. She is tasked by the Flameâs ancient guardian with locating a seed that will rekindle the light.
Braving the threat of Shadow Storms, Ara enters the forest in search of an exiled Scholar who can lead her to the World Tree. Guided by two unusual insects, and Immersed in a world of elementals and portals in trees, Ara quickly learns that sheâs not the only one looking for a treasure from the World Treeâand something far more sinister than a Shadow Storm is hunting herâŚ
ARA STARED DOWN AT THE CATERPILLAR BETWEEN HER PALMS.
It was bright green and looked curious as it explored the small felt pad on her desk. For now, that was its only place to roam around. It had a tiny face, Ara noted, and its legs moved in an interesting sequence, its little feet walking in segments of four. One of its back legs was smaller than the restâit didnât touch the felt.
A few giggles erupted through the measured calm of the classroom as students attempted to contain their fuzzy charges. Ara cupped her hands around her caterpillar to create a fence. She peered at it for a moment and then decided it was a âheâ.
Professor Marlowe spoke with her usual briskness: âAs you know, in this class we are here to study the powers of the mind. And how the mind can change physical reality, or matter,â she began. âCould someone tell me the first principle of our work?â she asked, clearly expecting a quick response, in spite of the fact that each student was busy corralling caterpillars.
âMind over matter!â volunteered Matthew, a boy near the front of the class. He wore glasses that were too small for him and had an easy smile. Ara liked him and was relieved whenever he chimed in with the correct answers. Ara spoke whenever she was called upon, but then Professor Marlowe would squint at her and say, âSpeak up, please!â and Ara would have to repeat herself.
âIndeed. This is basic to our larger studies here as Scholars at The Citadel. And our thoughtsââ continued Marlowe.
ââbecome things!â blurted Matthew, now holding his caterpillar in one hand. A few boys behind Ara chuckled amongst themselves.
Professor Marlowe simply nodded as she began to pace. She had a keen face like a hawk. Ara watched her take in the entire class in one glance and then turn away. âWe will begin with a simple exercise involving our caterpillars,â the Professor said.
Marlowe paused for a moment as she snatched up a caterpillar that had escaped from someone at the front of the class. It was Hans, Ara saw, as she watched him hold an open palm up to receive it with a whispered, âThanks!â
Marlowe placed the caterpillar in his hand with a raised eyebrow. âUnlike Hans here, you must pretend your hands are magnets. Focus on the space just above the creature and imagine a grid of lines there, in the air, like graph paper, as I described to you earlier. Once you see the grid, define and set your mental intentionâwhich is to put the wee beast to sleep.â
As Marlowe listed off the instructions, Ara watched her caterpillar explore his little world. He could walk well enough it seemed, but he was slow without the help of that hind leg. And he seemed to be listing to the right. Ara frowned to herself; perhaps she could heal him. But it would involve using her feelings and emotions, and that was against the rules. But unfortunately for her, that was still the only way she knew how to help him.
At thirteen, Ara was the youngest healer in her village. People would often bring their pets or farm animals to her familyâs house for healing. Well, to be fair, they brought them to her grandmother, the village herbalist. She would make them an herbal remedy but let Ara practice her healing abilities on any animal within her care. Ara would sit quietly, her hands laid on the fur or hair of the rabbit, cow, pig or sheep in question, and send healing through her hands. People seemed to think her efforts worked, but she was never sure how she did it. The only word she had for it was what she called her âheartbeamâ. But that word wouldnât be considered real at the Citadel, and the world of her village was far away from where she now sat.
Professor Marloweâs steely eyes scanned the room as she spoke to a space about a foot over their seated heads. Ara always found that unsettling. She knew Professor Marlowe was a powerful Scholar, but Ara also suspected that she could read her thoughts and feelings as if they were floating outside of her body ânot nestled within, where they belonged.
âYou have fifteen minutes!â Marlowe added, before turning her attention to a pile of papers at her desk. She sat at her chair and proceeded to read something that almost made her smile. Almost.
Ara felt her resolve strengthen. She had to help him, or at least do her best. It would be like ignoring a cry from a lost kitten or walking past a slender tree smothered by snow and bent to the ground. She decided to take the risk of getting caught. âOk, letâs see what we can do,â she whispered to the tiny green head.
Ara gently returned him to the center of her desk and set her hands in position. She imagined the caterpillar snoozing peacefully on her desk. "Time for sleep!â she commanded. She visualized the caterpillar at rest in her palms and sent that image through her hands. Within a few minutes her caterpillar had stopped moving, but she couldnât tell if it was asleep or just dazed.
Ara took a quick look about the room to assess everyoneâs progress. It appeared about half the class had indeed gotten their caterpillars to sleep, while the other half was still working on it. A piece of paper turned itself over in mid-air above Professor Marloweâs desk then added itself to the pile at her right. Ara had to be quick if she was going to use her heartbeam, even if for just a moment.
She closed her eyes and focused on her heart, letting it get warmer and larger, as she usually did. It felt totally natural but a little scary, tooâthis was exactly what she wasnât allowed to do here in the Citadel.
When it felt right, she opened her eyes and spoke to the caterpillar in her mind. She told it how beautiful it was, how bright and free. She beamed her love through her hands ever so carefully, in little waves. She peeked up at Professor Marloweâif she sensed anything amiss, her professor hadnât let on.
Ara gently touched her index finger to the caterpillarâs misshapen leg. ThereâŚthat was it. âGrow!â she told it silently, her heartbeam at full power. All of a sudden the misshapen leg of the caterpillar lengthened to its natural size. A little squeal escaped her mouth, and she sat back from her desk.
A few boys looked over at her with raised eyebrows and she heard a grunted âVictory?â from Orin, the boy sitting behind her.
Ara stifled a laugh as she grinned down at her caterpillar, sleeping peacefully, all of its legs now the same length.
A few of her classmates had begun to walk around and were talking amongst themselves. Ara decided she could tell her friend Nat about what had just happened while Professor Marlowe was occupied.
She left her seat with a quick backward glance at Merlinâ sheâd decided that was the caterpillarâs nameâand walked up to one of the front rows. They were seated alphabetically, and since Ara didnât have a last name, she sat near the back next to the W section.
Nat turned her head to smile at Ara standing beside her. âI actually got mine to sleep!â she whispered, her fiery eyes flashing.
âMe too! And mine had a leg that was too shortâI got it to lengthen!â Ara whispered back.
Natâs mouth hung open for a second. Ara was usually an obedient student and always followed the rules. Between the two of them, Nat was the spunky one. âReally?! You didnât use your heartbeam, did you?!â she exclaimed, and then quieted back down to a whisper.
Ara nodded in response.
âI want to see,â Nat announced, following Ara back to her desk.
Ara pointed at Merlinâs leg. âI had to try, and it worked!â she whispered. The caterpillar still hadnât moved. Nat leaned over to get a better look.
âAlright, time to wrap things up,â Marlowe announced from the front of the class.
âWow, AraâŚI bet you did heal him!â Nat whispered before she left for her seat.
Ara smiled to herself; knowing that Nat believed her felt good. Ara was used to being the only one who saw things and felt things. Sometimes, Nat would ask her, âDid that really happen?â and Ara only had to reply with a firm âyesâ for it to be taken as truth.
The rest of the hour passed without incident, and Ara noticed that everyone in her class had been able to get their caterpillars to sleep. That was one of the reasons they were all there in Marloweâs class in the first place. Everyone was good at concentrating and learning quickly. Most had a special skill, such as languages like Nat, or levitating objects, like her friend, Ember. Ara had the healing power of her hands, and sometimes she could see lights around peopleâs heads, something called an âauraâ. Old Mr. Cochran, the teacher from her village, had mentioned these things in his letter to the Citadel Scholars before she started last year, and Ara was grateful that had somehow been enough to get her in.
The Citadel was the oldest, most renowned university in all of Amethys and home to the Order of the Flame, the resident Scholars. Everyone younger than twenty-one was in the preparatory wing of the university. The youngest students were Araâs age and the oldest in their twenties, or even older. That was how long it took to be raised to the level of a full Scholar. One had to learn mathematics, philosophy, astronomy, literature and advanced psychic skills. Ara hoped in her case that it didnât have to take that long.
Mr. Cochran had attended the Citadel long ago and had made sure she understood the basics before leaving: respect the professors, adhere to the traditions, and do her best, which was what Ara planned on doing. Sheâd already learned all that she could in the village, and this was the only place for advanced learning. Mr. Cochran had never become a Scholar, but Ara knew that she could do it. Scholars worked hard to understand the mysteries of the universe; they created new sciences as they went, what Mr. Cochran called ânew magicâ. Araâs grandmother and maybe even Ara herself probably practiced the âold magicâ, but Ara had never heard him say that, exactly.
The bell finally rang, and Professor Marlowe gave some instructions for homework as she walked by with a basket to collect the sleeping caterpillars. Ara dropped Merlin into the basket with a pang of sadness, whispering, âBye!â to his tiny head. Then she gathered up her small bag and proceeded to leave in the midst of everyone else crowding the door.
Professor Marlowe stopped her just as she neared the threshold. âAra, please carry the basket to the gardens,â she said in an even tone.
So that was her punishment. Ara knew what was coming as she walked back to the large wooden desk. She saw Nat pause at the door and Ara gave her a short wave to let her know not to wait for her.
Professor Marlowe stood and handed her the basket of caterpillars, now awakening from their unnatural slumber. Sheâd have to be quick to make it down six flights of stairs and across the green.
âAra, you know well enough that we do not use our hearts or introduce emotions of any kind into our work. We use our minds, coupled with our understanding of natural law. Everything must be done in a state of calm; emotions are messy and do not follow the laws of physics, Ara,â she said. âIf you try that again, your marks will suffer. And it is likely you will not be raised to the level of a Scholar,â she warned, blinking a few times for emphasis.
âButâI healed his leg! My caterpillar had a leg that was too short and I helped him grow it longer to match the others!â she exclaimed. Ara bit her lips as soon as she finished speaking. Perhaps she shouldnât have said anything.
Professor Marlowe looked her in the eye, her gaze direct. âIsnât that unusual⌠If youâve created such a powerful bond, then please locate him again,â she said.
Ara hesitated to put down the basket. Sheâd have a hard time finding him in the mass of squirming caterpillars. And how could she prove to Marlowe that it had been real?
Ara glanced up at Marlowe to confirm she was serious, and then placed the basket on the nearest desk. She did her best to quell her emotions and quiet her mind, as sheâd been taught to do countless times. Of course it didnât help having Marlowe standing right in front of her, waiting.
Ara briefly closed her eyes and then opened them again, focusing solely on the caterpillars. First, she took them in as groupâthey were waking up one by one, rolling over onto their stomachs from their backs. âWhere are you?â she asked.
Ara let her mind go almost blank as she waited.
A few seconds passed.
And then more. She felt Marlowe shift position in impatience.
âThere!â Ara cried, seeing a thin golden light around her caterpillar.
She reached out a hand to scoop him up. He seemed to look like all of the others, but his face was different. And he had a tiny diamond-shaped design on his back, and there was his new leg, just as she had seen it minutes ago!
Ara turned to Marlowe and held out her caterpillar. âItâs this oneâŚâ she said, a hint of triumph in her voice.
Marlowe peered into her hand and then up at her eyes. Ara watched as a thought seemed to pass over her faceâfor a split second she knew Marlowe believed her. And then she nodded to herself and went back to being the same old Marlowe.
âI do not doubt that this is indeed your caterpillar, but there is no proof that you did what you claim to have done. As your teacher, I am charged with your proper training, not to encourage you to try things willy-nilly,â she said, folding her arms.
Ara sighed. She understood the rules perfectly well, and she also knew they were wrong. But of course she didnât have an argument as to why, and professors like Marlowe had most likely hundreds of books in the library and thousands of years to back up their principles.
âI understand,â she lied, in a high, quiet voice. She refrained from saying anything more about the tiny leg rejuvenating before her eyes.
âAll rightââ Marlowe began.
Ara picked up the basket once more. That part of her punishment hadnât started yet.
ââbest be on your way!â said a satisfied Marlowe to Araâs back as she scurried out the door, clutching the basket at armâs length.
This was going to be tricky. Ara quickened her pace to fast tiny steps so as not to jostle the basket. She knew the ins and outs of the Citadel corridors and back passageways pretty well, and there was no way she wasnât going to encounter someone on her trip to the gardens. She steeled herself for smug remarks and haughty glances and kept to the side of the wide stone corridors.
Few living things were allowed within the walls of the Citadel in the first place, since the Order largely looked down upon the untamed and unruly. The natural world was supposed to stay where it belongedâoutside the Citadel. Even seedlings and little plants were discouraged outside of the gardens, as Ara had discovered multiple times while trying to grow things in her room. Cats were allowed to control the mouse population, and their numbers were kept low.
She passed a group of older girls whispering in the center of the first set of stairs.
âEew, that is so gross!â said the first one who noticed her. They wore the same long white robes with long sleeves as Ara, but while her sash was white, theirs were blue. That meant they were at least in their third year. Ara noted that the school uniform looked like dresses on them, but more like an overcoat on her.
Ara kept walking, as she felt her own sash loosen from around her waist. She could ask sweet Jana, her dormitory matron, to hem it for her again; she always made sure that Ara had everything she needed. Ara didnât look back but could hear the girlsâ squeals bounce down the stairs with her.
Another flight down, she encountered two professors walking brisklyâthey hardly noticed her, even as a caterpillar fell at their feet. She barely had time to set the basket down, retie her sash, and scoop up the escaped caterpillar before it could be stepped upon.
Some moments later, breathing heavily, Ara passed out of a side door and into the light of a bright May morning. Phew! Now the caterpillars could fall anywhere, and she wouldnât feel responsible for their peril. All the same, she proceeded to walk along the edge of the green, past the stables, past the flower and herb gardens, to the mulching piles of the overgrown kitchen gardens. Here, she gently tipped the basket on its side to let the caterpillars crawl out. She could come back after her kitchen chores to retrieve it.
Ara spotted her caterpillar making his way through the pile.
âBye, Merlinâhave fun exploring!â she said to him.
Hands free, Ara looked back at the hulking structure sheâd just left, shielding her eyes from the sun. The white stone walls of the massive building crested the top of the hill. The Citadel encompassed libraries, laboratories, classrooms, dining halls and living quarters for professors, students, and staff. Vast like a castle and intricate like a maze, it even extended underground into the mountain. Ara had only been as deep as the storerooms below the kitchens, but sheâd heard the Citadel went much deeper.
The Citadel seemed to take on a different shape from each angle; from the lower lawns it looked like a sleeping giant and from the City, like a fortress. Ara often wondered what it looked like from above. On the side opposite from where Ara stood, lay the Citadel Cityâa bustling metropolis, home to several thousand people. And on the other side, just beyond the Citadel grounds, stood the Great Boreal Forest.
She could still remember that heady mixture of joy, excitement, and terror when she first rounded the bend in the road that meandered with the flow of the River Embla, a five-day journey from her village. Her father had walked beside her the entire way, as she rode their fat pony, Ginger, her legs swaying back and forth over the ponyâs bulging belly. Her mother had needed to stay home and tend their large herd of sheepâthey had over sixtyâand so the two of them had journeyed together.
At last, a small mountain had risen to meet them from the surrounding fields and forest. Her father had stopped to look at the great white walls of the Citadel and reached for her hand on the reins. Sheâd grabbed his hand knowing it would be there. And when they both tore their eyes from the building, sheâd looked into his eyes, misty with tears.
âWell, at least you wonât get lost!â heâd joked.
Ara had blinked rapidly and squeezed his hand harder. Her father had wiped his eyes and changed tack. âYou know how proud we are of you, chickadee. No one from our corner of the Great Boreal Forest has ventured here in a long time, and that changes with you. Itâs time for you to learn the new ways, and then you can teach us!â he declared with a wistful smile.
âDonât worry, Dad⌠Iâll do my best,â sheâd said, smiling back.
Ara was eager to learn more of everything. Her grandmother had taught her how to treat bruises, fevers, rashes, indigestion, and things like that. And sheâd learned basic academics from Mr. Cochran. She wasnât sure if she wanted to be an astronomer, or a better healer with the help of the advanced mental powers sheâd acquire. Sheâd learned in her first year that healing wasnât taught as a class, but that was perhaps to be expected, sheâd decided.
Ara had then leaned down from the saddle and given her father a big hug. Ara knew that it wasnât easy for her parents to send her to the Citadel, in more ways than one. They had limited means, and they didnât want her to be so far away. Before leaving, sheâd spent lots of time with her mother whoâd made her a special quilt for her bed at school to keep her from feeling homesick. But both parents had insisted it was worth whatever sacrifices they needed to make.
Ara had closed her eyes in her fatherâs embrace. He might not be like everyone elseâs dad, spending months at a time in the forest tracking deer; but he loved her more than anything in the universe. Thatâs what both of her parents always said before tucking her into bed when she was little. And she knew they still meant it.
âI bet youâll know the place as well as the forest at home within no time,â her father had said with a nod to the sheer size of the building as he pulled away.
Ara gazed up at the Citadel and then back to him, one eyebrow raised.
âYouâll seeâyouâll be the first junior tour guide,â heâd joked. Ara laughed at the absurdity.
Her father reached up a hand to replace the shawl that had slipped off her shoulders. Then he pointed to her necklace and motioned for her to tuck it away. A round red stone with a tree engraved on the front, it had been passed down through her family for generations. It was a gift from her grandmother and had belonged to her grandmother before. Her grandmother said it was an illustration of the World Tree, and Ara had always believed her. Smooth and weathered, the talisman looked ancient, and nestled comfortably at her chest. âRight,â she said, and tucked it beneath her sweater. It was just the sort of thing that the Scholars of the Citadel might look down upon.
âWho knowsâmaybe youâll be making suggestions to the Scholars. Donât forget, itâs also the seat of government. They make the rules for all the land. Iâm not so sure they remember there are people still living in the forest. Youâll be a reminder,â he added under his breath. And then he turned to her with a smile and cocked brow before pulling on Gingerâs reins once more.
Ara turned from the Citadel and set out for her favorite tree at the edge of the grounds. It was just far enough into the forest to be hidden, but close enough that she could easily pretend sheâd just been in the gardens, or looking for a paper that had blown away.
Students werenât allowed in the forestâit was too dangerous, due to the threat of Shadow Storms. Shadow Storms were described to Ara as a âdark windâ, created from the old magic of ancient Scholars. From all accounts sheâd heard, they sounded large but fast, running amok in the trees and leaving them bare of leaves. Ara had never heard of them before coming to the Citadel. They didnât seem to exist anywhere else in the forest as far as she knew, but sheâd be cautious all the same.
Ara scanned the grounds for the nearest guard and sighed in relief when she saw it was Henry. He was the nicest Citadel guard by far. Heâd caught her napping in the stables once, and he' let her snoop about in the library wherever she liked. It wouldnât be terrible if Henry saw her, but sheâd try not to be seen.
Ara had grown up like a feral cat in the forest near her home, making herself forts out of fallen branches and climbing the tallest trees. During the summer, she liked to bring her lunch to a great pine that grew near their old stone cottage. Ara would climb to her special spot and dangle her feet as she ate, one hand on the pineâs gnarled bark to keep her balance. Sheâd watch for sudden bird flight, and the rustling of undergrowth signifying a bear or large animal.
While Henry was looking the other way, Ara slipped into the forest. She had a few minutes before her kitchen chores, and she wanted to be alone. She let out a happy sigh as she breathed in the sharp spring air all around scented with new leaves and damp soil. She took in the webbed ceiling of green and gold above her with its infinite patterns of branches, and the new shoots of ferns at her feet. She could easily imagine a mirror world of roots identical to the arching branches above.
Ara greeted the stately old oak like a friend and placed her forehead on its trunk. This one was large, a Guardian Tree. Some people in her village called them Shepherds of the Forest. The oak grew at the top a gentle slope, the surrounding trees in an arc below. Ara noted its new, bright green leaves, still curled and tender, just bursting high above in its branches. Of course it had new growthâshe hadnât been here in over a week.
Ara took another look around to confirm she was alone, and lay down on the cool forest floor, head nestled in between the roots at the base of the tree. The nook was the perfect size for her head.
She breathed in deeply and felt her entire body relax, as dappled sun poured down through the leaves and her body lengthened to match the twining roots all around. Something within her head expanded and her skin came alive; then her edges seemed to go blurry. Ara felt the oak at her head reaching up to the sun. She breathed out and let herself expand along with it. Somehow, it always felt like she could really be herself in the forest.
Ara squinted up at the sky and saw a ball of golden light surrounded by two smaller orbs, one green and one violet, floating just off the ground to her right. She stopped breathing and stayed perfectly still while the lights bobbed and danced at the edges of her vision. Ara blinked to stop her eyes from tearing over and brought herself up onto her elbows. In a flash, the lights zipped past her, disappearing deeper into the forest. Ara flipped over onto her stomach to see them better, but they had vanished.
Ara sat up and looked around. The gray and brown trunks of the trees stared back at her, the spaces between them empty. She walked a short distance in the direction the orbs had flown. She peered far into the trees but only saw the slope of a hill in the distance, and maybe some boulders. What were they?
The sound of bells jangled in her ears, calling her back to the Citadel. Ara brushed off the leaves and moss and whatever else might be in her hair and set off in the direction of the bell.
When sheâd made it back to the edge of the lawn, she lingered behind a tree wide enough to hide her. A few professors were out now, walking about the green. She checked Henryâs positionâhe hadnât movedâand waited until the right moment to dart to the nearest gardening shed. From there it was easy to make her way to the kitchens, another figure in a white robe, bobbing in a sea of green.
13-year-old Ara is the youngest student at her school, the Citadel, where she and her friends are training to become full Scholars of different types of magic. Ara's strong intuition and connection to her village's healing traditions land her in trouble with her more scientific-minded professors, who disapprove of old-fashioned intuitive powers. However, when Ara senses the Citadel's Sacred Flame has been replaced by a lookalike, her intuition guides her on a magical journey to find the truth and reconnect her people to their roots. Ara travels through tree portals and is guided by magical creatures she meets along the way, including a dragon, forest spirits, and insect guides.
This is a classic elementary/middle grade fantasy, with all the tropes that fantasy lovers will anticipate. Geddes has crafted a believable world. Younger readers will enjoy the fantastical creatures and descriptions of the forest and adventures. Even older readers will appreciate the nods to conventions of the genre. Unintentional or not, the setting reminded me of a mix between Hogwarts and The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. (Magical school, small winged creatures guide the protagonist through a forest and to a great tree to save the world...) Because of this, sticklers for original ideas may be frustrated by these similarities, but I found there was enough originality in the plot to entertain and delight.
Ara's character was not as developed as I'd expect--she had very few character flaws and remained brave, patient, energetic, and up for anything throughout. However, this character type worked for the story and Ara will undoubtedly make a young reader's favorite character to look up to!
Apart from the somewhat shallow characters, this is a perfect book for young fantasy fans. Fans of Harry Potter, The Legend of Zelda, and The Chronicles of Narnia will love the setting and storyline of Ara of the Greenspell. Those looking to get into the fantasy genre will appreciate how easy the story is to follow and enjoy. Geddes writes for lovers of fantasy, plants, and magical worlds.