A half-magic girl learns about heroism and taking action when she and her sister confront a wizard who endangers others for her own gain.  Even and Odd are sisters who share magic. Lately, though, it seems like that’s the only thing they have in common. Odd doesn’t like magic, and Even practices it every chance she gets, dreaming of the day she’ll be ready to be a hero. When the hidden border between the mundane world the sisters live in and the magical land they were born in shuts abruptly, the girls are trapped, unable to return home. With the help of a unicorn named Jeremy, they discover a wizard is diverting magic from the border to bolster her own power. Families are cut off from each other on both sides of the border, and an ecological disaster is brewing. But the wizard cares nothing for the calamitous effects her appropriation of magic is having. Someone has to do something to stop her, and Even realizes she can no longer wait until she’s ready: she needs to be a hero now . "Juxtaposing the sisters’ real world with a whimsical one populated by unicorns, dragons, mermaids, and more, Durst inserts a subtle message about the separation of families through closed borders.... [A] feel-good portal fantasy." - Publishers Weekly "Using the unrest at the border, Durst deftly weaves in a narrative of the separation of families with themes of standing up to unchecked power and finding the hero within." - Booklist  "Humor abounds... Whimsical fun." - Kirkus Reviews Sarah Beth Durst is the author of the New York Times bestseller The Spellshop , as well as over twenty-five fantasy books for adults, teens, and kids, including the Queens of Renthia series,  Drink Slay Love , and  Spark . She has won an American Library Association Alex Award and a Mythopoeic Fantasy Award and has been a finalist for the Andre Norton Nebula Award three times. She lives in Stony Brook, New York, with her husband, her children, and her ill-mannered cat. 1 LIKE MANY SISTERS, Even and Odd shared many things:       Their bedroom.       Their closet.       Six pairs of flip-flops.       Use of the living-room TV.       And . . . magic.       On even days, Even could work magic. On odd days, her one-year-younger sister, Odd, could. Years ago, before their family moved across the border from the magic world of Firoth to Stony Haven, the most ordinary town in Connecticut, the sisters had discovered they could each work magic on alternating days. Showing an imperfect understanding of how calendars work, four-year-old Emma had coined their nicknames—and they’d stuck. Emma became Even, and Olivia became Odd.       Now twelve years old, Even wished she’d picked a nickname that wasn’t a constant reminder of the fact that she lacked magic half the time. Like today, which was an odd day.       On odd days, she couldn’t practice her magic. If she couldn’t practice, she couldn’t get better. If she didn’t get better, she wouldn’t pass all the required levels of Academy of Magic exams and win her wizard medallion. And if she didn’t have a medallion, she couldn’t become a hero of Firoth, charged with protecting the magic world against all threats—a goal that had been her dream for as long as she could remember.       So, not a fan of odd days.       But at least she was still able to help out with the family’s shop on odd days, despite her lack of magic. It helped pass the time until she was magical again. That afternoon, Dad had left her in charge of the register while he went to pick up milk from the supermarket and Odd from her volunteer job at the Stony Haven Animal Rescue Center. Even loved being trusted to help their customers.       Like Frank the centaur, who was here to collect his order.       “So that’s one box of nine-by-twelve manila envelopes, one vial of imported ambrosia, and a Three Musketeers bar.” Even calculated the cost. “Twenty-six dollars and forty-eight cents. Plus one hundred forty-eight seventy-three for the rare honey shipment. Your total is one hundred seventy-five dollars and twenty-one cents.”       Frank handed her his credit card. “Excited about summer vacation? No more teachers, no more books, no more . . . Wait, that’s not right. ‘No more teachers’ dirty looks’ is the last one, which means the first one can’t be teachers . . .”       She grinned. For as long as he’d been coming into the shop, Frank had liked to try out mundane-world sayings he’d learned. He usually mangled them. “Pencils?” she suggested.       “No more pencils, no more books—yes, that’s it! Thanks, Even!”       “Actually, I’m not done with studying yet,” Even said. “I take the Academy of Magic level-five exam on Friday. I’m doing the remote course.” She’d been studying hard, practicing every even day and poring over her level-five textbook on odd days. She had it all planned out: Once she passed, she’d only have three more levels left until she had her junior-wizard medallion. And once she had that, the Academy could start