Entry #2: THE MIDNIGHT FLIGHT OF THE SALEM MAGI

THE MIDNIGHT FLIGHT OF THE SALEM MAGI
58,000
MG Fantasy

Pitch:
THE MIDNIGHT FLIGHT OF THE SALEM MAGI is a secret history retelling of
Paul Revere's Ride.

Ark and Swanette are under a curse most parents would wish for— they
cannot tell lies. But when witch hunters start asking questions about
the Salem witches' descendants, the twins can't risk answering and
escape to Boston in hopes of finding safe haven.

Instead, they uncover an alliance between the witch hunters and
redcoats. In exchange for the military's aid capturing magi, the witch
hunters will unleash dragons against the rebelling patriots. Although
the twins were taught to stay hidden, they know the terror of being
chased and can't abandon anyone to such a fate.

Before Lexington is attacked, Ark and Swanette must form an alliance
with Abigail Adams, Boston's witch-in-chief, to save the patriots.
Because when dragons are coming, it's one if by land, two if by sea,
and three if by air.

First 250 Words:
At dusk I’m scheduled to burn at the stake. I don't like to brag, but
I'm really good at it. This will be my third time. It’s made me
something of a celebrity around New England. While burning magi has
always attracted large crowds, I like to think I’ve taken the
spectacle to a new level.

Thanks to my reputation, the villagers have packed the town square
despite the short notice. A local baker rambles through the crowd,
hefting a food tray overhead. "Get your gingerbread cookies! It's not
a bonfire without your favorite foods."

I’d wave the baker down, but I’m chained to a stake atop a log
pyramid. Unwilling to let mere captivity get in my stomach's way, I
hop in place to rattle the chains. "Do you have any oatmeal cookies?"

The baker raises his bushy eyebrows. "Kid, no one likes oatmeal cookies."

"Well, I do."

He shakes his head. "In that case, no one but you likes oatmeal cookies."

I let out a huff that turns to fog in the cold air. "I’m surrounded by
Philistines."

They form a crowd that stretches toward the horizon until their faces
begin to blur in the fading light. Latecomers scramble up ladders to
reach the nearby rooftops. A few have even taken the time to bring
telescopes.

From the audience size, every person in the region must have come to
find out if I can honestly survive being burned alive. Thank Goodness.
If everyone is watching me, no one is searching for my sister and
cousins.