Chapter 1
Left foot forward, left foot back, right foot forward, right foot back. I closed my eyes and moved to the sound of the beating drum. My arms swept through the air as I drew a figure eight using alternating circular motions.
āLoosen your legs, Lia. You need to relax,ā instructed Master Jinho.
āNe, Seonsaengnim.ā Yes, teacher. Even before he said it, I knew. Nerves had gotten the best of me, and my legs were too stiff. I tightened the belt around my uniform and took a deep breath to clear my mind.
In front of me, Joon stepped in perfect rhythm with the drum. To the untrained eye, it probably looked like we were dancing. But this was actually a pretty deadly practice called Taekkyeon, a traditional Korean martial art. Even before Taekkyeon was officially listed as a UNESCO intangible cultural heritage, weāve been practicing it for centuries. Keeping it alive.
Joon glanced at the holographic image of Master Jinho shooting out from the silver box in the middle of the room.
Master Jinho clapped his hands and, to no oneās surprise, said, āExcellent pumbalbgi, Joon.ā
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I smiled and nodded in agreement. Pumbalbgi, or Stepping-on-Triangles footwork, was super important, and today Joon had it down.
Maybe Iād be just as relaxed as Joon if my magic power manifested like his had. Everyone knew that if you didnāt have any inkling of magic by the age of twelve, it was most likely something that would never happen.
I turned twelve a few months ago.
Normally, I was pretty good at Taekkyeon. But I couldnāt concentrate today. Feelings of dread welled up in the pit of my stomach. I knew how all this would end. Not well.
Because, too bad for me, the annual exam to get into the International Magic Agencyāsponsored school had three parts: Taekkyeon, academics, and magic.
It really wasnāt fair. I was so much better than Joon, but he could do the one thing I couldnāt. No matter how hard I tried.
āWeāll do one round of sparring,ā Master Jinho said as he sat down on a chair.
āNe!ā We strapped on chest guards and helmets. I patted my arms and legs. This was supposed to stimulate blood flow and circulation.
After a brief moment, we faced each other and focused on our footwork, swaying back and forth. The key was to maintain eye contact, read the situation, and react quickly.
Joon lifted up his left leg and kicked me. I deflected it with my arm and slapped his foot out of the way. Without missing a beat, I immediately responded with a high kick that landed square on the side of his helmet. Joon fell backward with a yelp.
āThere we go, Lia!ā Master Jinho leaped to his feet and cheered, giving me two thumbs-up. āAlways the fast learner.ā
Joon grumbled as he sat up. His birthmark peeked out of his uniform, and I motioned for him to cover it. It made him self-conscious, and he hated showing it to anyone. Not even me, his best friend.
He quickly adjusted his uniform. āThis is just practice. You didnāt have to strike so hard.ā
āSorry. I didnāt mean to.ā I reached out to help, but he waved my hand away and jumped up.
Master Jinho chuckled. āThatās what the protective gear is for. We must practice hard to be ready.ā
We stood shoulder to shoulder and bowed to Master Jinho. He bowed back and said, āKeep practicing together. Youāre both more than ready for the exam.ā
Red lights flickered on the silver box, and the image of Master Jinho faded away.
After we changed, we sat down on the foam mat and stretched. I reached for my toes and pressed my face against my knees. The backs of my legs burned from the session today.
Joon rubbed his hands together and chanted, āYakson.ā Medicine hands. Ever since Iād known him, which seemed like forever, heād always had this ability. Lucky him.
Once his hands started to glow an orangish color, he placed them on his shoulder. The color transferred from his hands and enveloped the injured area.
Even though Iād seen him do this a million times, it never got boring. I mean, how cool was it that he could heal himself? So, basically, as long as he didnāt get fatally wounded, he could heal himself just like that. Which was why his complaining that Iād hit him too hard was just ridiculous.
He moved his neck side to side as he rolled his shoulder. āGood as new. I forgive you for pummeling me.ā
āI shouldāve gone even harder,ā I joked back.
āHave you gotten your power yet?ā
I shook my head and took in a deep breath. āItās too late for me.ā
āWe could keep practicing. Maybe itāll show up soon. Thereās still time.ā
Things werenāt looking so good for me. People were either born with magic powers or they werenāt. Simple as that. It wasnāt entirely dependent on genetics, more like luck of the draw. But I had heard that if you were born into a family of magic, the odds of having powers yourself were higher.
I doubted being born to parents with very low doses of magic helped my chances. Appa had an eidetic memory, better known as a photographic memory. A pretty useless skill in a day and age when everything could be looked up on the phone. Umma had the power ofāwait for itāflexibility. And she wasnāt even that flexible. Yoga-level flexible, not superhero level. So my gene pool wasnāt all that great.
All I ever wanted was to be part of IMA, fight monsters, and be one of the four protectors of the world. Of course, normal people couldnāt actually see monsters. They concealed themselves well, blending in with humans. Some minded their own business while others, the ones that we were trained to fightāthey were the bad ones. End-the-world, steal-your-soul, open-the-gates-to-the-spirit-world type of bad.
I mustāve been so lost in my thoughts that I hadnāt noticed Joon waving his hand in front of my face.
āWhy donāt you follow your mom to work and see what being a desk agent is like?ā
āWonāt make a difference. I donāt want to work as a no-magic.ā Technically, my parents werenāt no-magics because they did have powers. But, and maybe this was worse, they chose to be desk agents. Why would anyone not use the magic they were given? It made absolutely no sense to me.
The no-magics had the worst jobs ever. Data entry, writing reports, and other boring tasks that required zero powers.
He sighed. āI really donāt see what the big deal is. Itās better than nothing, isnāt it?ā
āYou just donāt get it.ā How could he? He didnāt have to think about life outside of IMA.
I stood up and walked to the calendar hanging on my wall. There were exactly five days left until the exam.
Joon rushed out the door and yelled, āRace you to our hideout!ā He disappeared down the stairs.
A large tree stood smack in the middle of our yard. When we first moved here, Appa had been excited to discover it. A couple days later, he bought some wooden planks and got to work building me the most perfect tree house. It was my special place.
I climbed up the ladder fastened to the side of the tree. The inside was a lot larger than it looked from the outside and big enough for us to stand up straight. The good thing about having parents in IMA was that they were able to purchase special magic-infused wooden planks. To anyone else walking past our backyard, this looked like the average tree house. But the inside was a different story.
Joon stood in front of the whiteboard, which was getting pretty full of crossed-out words. We had been coming here for months now, trying to figure out my powers. I had to hand it to Joon for the countless hours of research heād done in hopes of coaxing my power to show up.
āToday itāsāāhe pointed to the whiteboardāāintangibility.ā
I groaned. Weād tried this a couple months back. Definitely not the most fun skill to test out. Intangibility was the official way of saying the ability to walk through walls.
āWhat is the point in all this anymore?ā I rubbed my knuckles. Last time, I believed with all my heart and then smashed my hand into the table. It did not go through.
āWho knows? Maybe your power decided to show up today.ā
Always the annoying optimist.
āEasy for you to say. You arenāt the one getting banged up every time. Andā¦ā
He finished what I was just about to say. āAnd even if I did, I could heal myself.ā Joon chuckled and flexed his arms. āCanāt help it. Born with it.ā
I sighed. No use arguing with him. āOkay. One last time. And then Iām so done.ā
If this was going to be my last hurrah, I was determined to make it a big one. I steadied my breath, just like weād learned from our IMA tutor.
The most basic rule was to empty my mind and, if I had a power, try to channel it.
Part of me wanted to prove Joon wrong. But the other part of me desperately hoped that I had some magic. That I belonged. Even a sliver would be fine.
Joon tapped the table. āReady?ā
I nodded, and before he could stop me, I closed my eyes and ran straight into the wall.
For a couple seconds, I mustāve lost consciousness, because when I opened my eyes, Joon was peering down at me with super-worried eyes.
āLia!ā He let out a huge sigh of relief before starting his rant. āThat was such a dangerous move.ā He stormed to the window and jabbed his finger out toward the grass. āWhat if youād had that power?ā
āBut I didnāt.ā
āNot yet.ā
āThink itās time you accept it.ā
āBut this is what weāve been dreaming about all our lives.ā
āDreams change.ā
He looked at me with a hurt expression. āI guess.ā
I couldnāt stand it. The way he looked like Iād just shattered his dreams.
āLike all agents do, I have a backup plan. So donāt worry about me.ā If I couldnāt be part of IMA because I was a no-magic, then I was going to be best friends with Dior. She was the most popular girl at West Hills Middle School, the normal-people school we attended during the week.
Since IMA agents needed to blend in, academics were very important and so most magic kids attended normal-people schools. But because our identities were a secret, we were under strict orders not to use magic or talk about IMA in front of normal people.
Maybe he was in denial, but things were already different between us. After we finished school at West Hills, there were days when Joon would take magic classes with his IMA tutor at his house, while Iād take random skills classes with mine. We used to do everything together.
āIām going to be Diorās new best friend,ā I said.
āYou know thatās the worst plan ever.ā
āWhy?ā
āBecause you donāt belong at West Hills.ā
Why should I settle for a boring job at IMA while he got to do all the cool magic stuff? No, I was going be the most popular gi...