Page 5 of The Princess of Portals

Nevada leaned in closer to me, so I could hear her over the girls’ symphony of compliments. “They’re both hoping that Dante will ask them to the Ball.”

“If they want to go to the Ball with him, why don’t they ask him to the Ball?”

Nevada shrugged. “They’re Elves, and Elves don’t ever do anything in a straightforward manner. They like making other people do what they want them to do.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” Ansel agreed. “But that’s just who they are. It’s hard to fight your nature. Elves are charming and devious. Metamorphs are impulsive and direct.”

“Sorcerers are dark and mysterious,” Nevada added.

“Nymphs are kind and harmonious.”

She grinned at Ansel. “And Alchemists are smart and studious.”

I looked at them, frowning. “But those are just stereotypes. Not all Sorcerers are creepy, and not every Alchemist is nerdy.”

“Not all,” Ansel said. “But most. And blending with the spirits—gaining magic—only emphasizes your natural qualities. That’s why it isn’t hard to guess which Tribe each Apprentice will be joining.”

“Ansel is an Alchemist,” Nevada said.

“And Nevada is a Nymph,” Ansel added.

“Sophie and Sophia are Elves. Jack is a Dreamweaver. Dante is a Metamorph.”

“The Victory kids are Metamorphs too.”

“Yeah,” Nevada agreed. “They really are.”

I considered their claim—that each of us was destined to be in a particular Tribe. Like it was preordained or something. Neat little boxes for neat little Apprentices.

“You guys make it sound so simple.”

“You are not simple to place, Savannah,” said Ansel. “I guess that’s because you’re a Polymage.”

It had to be more complicated than that.

“Are you excited about joining your Tribe, Nevada?” Ansel asked her.

“Yes. And also no.” She looked at me. “Do you think we’ll all still be friends after we join our Tribes?”

“Of course,” I told her. “Knights from all the different Tribes are friends.”

“Not all Knights,” Ansel said.

“Then we’re just going to have to promise one another to stay friends.” I took their hands and squeezed them. “No matter what.”

Nevada grinned at me. “Deal.”

“Agreed,” Ansel added.

Dante placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on Nevada’s. “I’m in too.”

I threw my brother a sidelong smirk. Across the table, his pretty admirers still had him in their sights. “Are you sure, Mr. Popular?” I chuckled. “We’re so terribly boring.”

“Boring?” he repeated, laughing. “Oh, no, little sister. You are far too curious to be called boring.”

“A little curiosity never hurt anyone,” I countered.