The Lost Founders: Butterpond Mysteries

By Emmie B.

 

One prophecy. Three girls. A history about to be revealed. 

 

4oo years ago, Magicals founded Haven on All Hallows's Eve. In creating the town, something else was created too, a sentient being that hovers over the town, only kept inside by the shield. 

 

In the present, Butterpond, Connecticut, is gearing up for their big Halloween Festival, but there is something not right with the shield… and only three thirteen-year-old girls can fix it.

 

Mira is a great daughter, an exemplary big sister, and a straight-A student. That is, until a trip to Washington, DC, landed her with a big fat B in History of Magic. Now, she'll have to compete against the eighth graders (again) for the extra credit she needs to restore her A. Will she and her friends be able to win?

 

Meghan has the soccer semi-final championship coming up. She has to be on her game to help Butterpond Middle School win. It's been five years since they had the championship victory, and Meghan is determined to bring it back. But when she starts seeing visions, a whole new worry begins to plague her. 

 

Maya is playing with her school's orchestra in the concert that kicks off the Halloween Festival. There's a solo spot she hopes to gain with music she's written herself. But will Ms. Chester believe in her contemporary music, or will Maya concede to her parents suggestions for classical music?

 

There's two weeks before a total collapse of the shield, the prophecy has found its chosen three, but will they accept their fate and save Butterpond?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emmie B.
• Release date: Oct 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781953798183

Book preview

1

Iused to wonder why so many books had kids as the heroes, doing work that was probably best left to adults, but then it came my turn to be a hero. Now, I know why adults don’t do it. It’s hard and usually life threatening. At least in my story, I’m not the only chosen one. There’s thirteen of us, but that comes later. For now, we’ll start with the day the human entered Butterpond.

My feet are killing me, my best friend Maya said, wiggling her toes from beneath her long flowy skirt, in her sandals.

They should hurt, those shoes don’t have any support built into them, my other best friend, Meghan, replied, leaning to look past me so she could show Maya her eye roll.

She’d know, she’s a leprechaun. It’s what they do. I piped up. You should’ve worn the tennis shoes she made us. They’re super comfy.

That's easy for you to say, Mira, you always wear tennis shoes. She wrinkled her nose. No, thank you, my toes like their freedom.

Then I suppose you’ll just have to deal with aching feet, Meghan replied. She tucked her short curly red hair behind her ear and continued looking at the brochure we picked up at the Museum of Magic. There’s a College of Leprechaun Magic in DC. I didn’t know that.

I grimaced.

You want to go back to DC? Maya asked. She pulled her long chocolate brown hair over her shoulder and weaved strands of it into an intricate braid. I don’t.

Me neither. I agreed. I prefer Butterpond.

Meghan laughed, You just hated all the walking, she who prefers to transport everywhere.

You’re not wrong about that. I really do like to pop around, but I also like the people in Butterpond and everyone in DC just seemed—

—brisk. Maya finished for me.

I nodded.

Even the other Magicals were kind of off-putting, if you know what I mean, I said.

Meghan shrugged. You didn’t really get to know anyone there, and everyone in Butterpond has known you since you were born. That’s not exactly a straight comparison.

Well, I don’t want to stay in Butterpond forever, I just don’t want to go back to DC. I want to travel the world with my violin on my shoulder—

—selling out concerts—

—and breaking cellists' hearts.

Meghan and I laughed. Maya pouted.

Hey, it’s a fabulous dream, Maya said, defensively.

I nodded. Yeah, it is. We just hear it three times a day.

At least, Meghan said, rolling her eyes again.

Whatever, at least I have a vision, Maya said. She stuck her tongue out at Meghan. I rolled my eyes this time.

What do you think is taking so long? Meghan asked, looking out the window.

We were sitting in a sixteen passenger van, well actually it was originally a fifteen passenger van, but Mr. Peterson made some calculating mistakes and the teachers had to add a seat. At the moment, we parked the van in front of a small guardhouse like the ones toll booths or national parks have for collecting money. A sign sat in the guardhouse's window that read: ‘Welcome to Butterpond! Population: 1,590,402 Magicals. Please wait for verification.’

I pointed to the sign. Maybe we’re waiting to be verified.

Yeah, but why does Mr. Peterson look so nervous? Maya whispered.

Sure enough, when I looked to the driver’s seat, I could see sweat pouring off of his face and the tips of his human fingers were turning to talons. The steering wheel was warping from the strength of the Griffin. I could tell he was nervous, but just in case I missed it, my extra witchy powers swooped in to give me a wave of nausea and some insecurity took hold of my chest, icy and boiling all at the same time.

I ground my teeth together and tore my eyes away from him, looking down at the floor between my feet. I breathed in and out a few times while Meghan and Maya had a conversation over my head, literally.

What do you think is going on?

I don’t know, but I think there might be more Guardians out here today than there usually are.

How would you know?

Three Guardians are wet from the good old Connecticut rain that showered on us fifteen minutes ago, which means there wasn’t enough space in the guardhouse for all five of them.

Well done, Sherlock. How very observant of you. So what in your powers of observation do you think is going on?

I felt Maya lean back against the seat. I don’t know. That was as far as I got. Come on Watson, it’s your turn.

I shook my head, a small smile on my face. They had such an affinity for the human story detectives; it was funny to hear them try to figure out situations like they were as good as Sherlock and Watson.

Um, I don’t know. Maybe something’s wrong with the shield. They keep poking and prodding at it.

Yeah, but if Mr. Peterson is right, then no one knows how the shield was created or how to maintain it, I said, re-emerging from my cocoon of non-feeling.

I know, but that doesn’t mean there’s not something wrong with it, Meghan pouted.

True, I conceded.

I watched as Mr. Peterson lowered the window on the passenger’s side. A Guardian stood there in their uniform. It was a light green button-up shirt and dark green pants with a wide-brimmed hat.

I asked my dad once why they wore that kind of uniform. He told me it was because Butterpond looked like a park to the humans and so they dress like human park rangers. The sign that welcomed us Magicals also read: Park Closed from farther away and only changed into a greeting for Magicals.

The Guardian and Mr. Peterson were talking. I closed my eyes and listened hard, blocking out all the chatter from the other students.

— have to do a full inspection. We had a human get through the barrier this morning.

I understand, Mr. Peterson answered, getting out of the van.

What if something horrible happened to the town? Maya asked, pulling my attention back to our seat. She gripped my arm, her eyes wide.

I patted her shoulder. I’m sure everything is going to be okay. But they’re doing a full inspection. I might be wrong, but I think I just heard that Guardian tell Mr. Peterson that a human got into Butterpond. I dropped my voice to whisper the last part.

Really? That’s not good, that’s really not good, Meghan said, watching the Guardian and Mr. Peterson out the window.

Butterpond, Connecticut, my hometown, was one of five magical communities. Butterpond and the places like it were strictly spaces where Magicals lived. Outside of those magical communities, Magicals and humans lived together, mostly in harmony. The thing about living with the humans, though, was that Magicals had to hamper their natural abilities, so that there was no overt difference between them and the humans. There were restrictions on the use of magic, who could buy magical items (only other Magicals) and where Magicals could go.

Butterpond has a shield to keep humans from being able to protect the magical communities inside. Something had to be wrong with the shield if a human had entered Butterpond.

All right, kids, we need to inspect the van. Can you please get out and line up next to the tree over here? Another Guardian told us, opening the side van door. She had short cropped hair, pointy ears, and effervescent purple eyes. As soon as I looked at her, I felt the wash of cool water through my body, though it was strained, somewhere in there, like her genuine emotions were being blocked by a dam. She was a water nymph, most likely, based on the ears and how I reacted to her.

My shoulders tightened even more.

Something was really wrong for the Guardians to worry as much as Mr. Peterson. Let’s just say Mr. Peterson was prone to worry.

The other students considered him the ‘cool’ teacher because he was the youngest of our teachers by far. Most of the girls clambered to sit up front with him. I didn’t get it, but Maya said they liked his eyes. I thought that was gross.

We were the only seventh graders on the trip, beating the odds in this year’s Magical Communities Competition held at Butterpond Middle School. We won fifth place, a spot usually reserved for eighth graders. But that also meant they pushed us to the back of the van.

The kids in front of the van unbuckled their seat belts and awkwardly began getting out of the car. The next row did the same until it was our turn.

We lined up in front of the three picnic tables as instructed, Meghan, Maya, and me at the end. The Guardian then began inspecting the van. She opened the different compartments in the floor that held our bags; she folded the seat, and looked in all the little nooks and crannies. She tapped the roof, looking for other compartments, I assumed.

The longer I watched her, the more the tide of her emotions ebbed and flowed, breaking through the dam she’d built to keep them locked up. I broke away, before it washed me out, to find that we were being questioned by another Guardian.

She was shorter than the other Guardians, her hair pulled into a neat bun, not a hair out of place. This Guardian shone out like a light, projecting confidence. And unlike the other Guardians, the firm brightness I felt coming from her was steady and true. She was confident. It wasn’t just an armor she was putting up to keep us kids from worrying.

All right young Magicals, I will come to each of you individually. I need you to show me verification that you are Magical. Got it?

We nodded, and she headed to the front of the line. Meghan and Maya watched nervously.

I took this moment to recenter. I stared directly ahead of me again, taking deep breaths, using a tree as my focus point this time.

We were facing toward Butterpond, and the tree I was staring at was probably beyond the shield, inside the town limits. I breathed in, held it for four seconds, and breathed out.

I had just been on a roller coaster of emotions. Fear, confusion, confidence, gnawing anxiety. It was enough to knock me out if I wasn’t careful. My stomach twisted. I inhaled again, held it for four seconds, and let it out. I did not want to be the seventh grader that threw up on the trip with the older kids. That would be a humiliation I’d never forget.

As I did my breathing exercises, the gnawing anxiety wouldn’t let go of me. It just kept churning my stomach. Was this how I was feeling? I looked down at my feet.

The churning stopped almost immediately.

I looked back up at the tree and felt a wave of nausea seize me again. I squinted, trying to see if someone was standing behind the tree, but I couldn’t make it out.

Was I feeling the shield?

No, that was a ridiculous assumption. There was probably someone hiding over there, that was all.

Mira, honey, are you all right? Maya asked, touching my shoulder.

Can you smell or hear someone over there? I asked.

Maya focused on where I was pointing. I heard her inhale really deep, scenting the air. She tucked the braid behind her ear, twitching slightly. Her ears looked like a human’s, but they were anything but.

I’m not getting anything. She sighed after a minute. Why? What’s up?

I can feel someone’s desperation. And I was staring at that tree, I said. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up like a startled cat, a sure sign that something was going on. My instincts were usually dead on in situations like this.

And you only activate your empathiness when you're looking at someone, Meghan said, her voice uneasy.

Exactly.

Empathiness? I’m not sure that’s a word, Shortcake. Maybe they should re-evaluate your GPA, a snob voice said. I turned to find a tall, blonde, and intimidating Haley Winthorpe standing over Meghan.

Meghan shrugged, looking up into Haley’s dark eyes, unwavering.

I think you call using words that don’t exist, innovative, wouldn’t you Maya? Meghan asked, not breaking eye contact.

Maya took her place on Meghan’s left side.

Yep, in fact it shows a mastery of language.

I stepped onto the other side of Meghan, completely self-conscious. I knew I didn’t look nearly as formidable as my friends, but I tried to keep an even, neutral face, fixing my