Wild Magic

by Madeline Freeman

“Cat fight!” calls Zane enthusiastically. “My money’s on Lexie!”

  Griffin tips his head back, laughing. “I’ll take that bet.”

  “Just hand it over!” Lexie’s voice is shrill. “You’ve had it almost a whole day. It’s not yours! That crystal’s been passed down in the Taylor line. It’s as much mine as it is yours!”

  “Get off me!” Crystal yells. “You’ll get your turn—”

  “I don’t want a turn, I want—”

  What Lexie wants is cut off by a small explosion. Lexie screams as she sails backward, colliding with the wall adjacent to the stairwell. Bridget leaps off the couch like she’s been jolted with electricity. Fox’s grip around my waist grows firmer as he pulls me toward his torso protectively. Zane and Griffin stare open-mouthed at Lexie’s crumpled form. Crystal’s eyes are wide, afraid, her posture rigid. Zane comes to his senses first, launching himself out of his chair and moving to Lexie’s side. She gets up slowly, leaning heavily on his arm. When she fixes her gaze on Crystal, Crystal’s stance relaxes and her eyebrow arches.

  “I said you’d get a turn,” she murmurs.

  Lexie charges at Crystal, fire in her eyes, but Zane catches her around the middle, restraining her. Crystal stands, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth. Her meaning is clear: I dare you. Lexie only fights harder to get away from Zane.

  This is quickly getting out of hand. I don’t know what my role in the group is, but I can’t sit back while Crystal taunts her cousin, or while Lexie’s eyes are so full of malice. I extricate myself from the circle of Fox’s arms and move between the cousins, one arm up toward each of them. “Okay, let’s just calm down.”

  “Calm down?” Griffin blinks a few times, shaking his head. “That was awesome.” He stands and edges toward Crystal, his hand out, his palm up. “Let’s see it, then.”

  “No way,” Lexie growls. “He doesn’t get it before I’ve had a chance to see it. Let go of me, Zane!” She struggles against his arms but makes no forward progress.

  Griffin takes another step toward Crystal, whose eyes narrow. “Keep coming, Griffin. I’ll do to you what I did to Lexie.”

  Fox stands. “Come on, Crystal. You made your point. You don’t have to throw us all across the room now, do you? It seems like overkill.”

  “I’ll decide what’s overkill.” Crystal’s eyes slide from Griffin to Fox.

  I can’t figure out what she’s trying to prove here. If everyone’s going to get a turn, why can’t we just get started? My experience with the circle until this point has been limited, but I can’t imagine Crystal’s been like this all along—why would everyone put up with her? One thing’s certain: If I have to pretend to be part of this circle, I’m going to actually be a part of it, not just a bystander. I step closer to Crystal—nearly an arm’s length away. Her muscles coil, ready to spring. I sigh. “Enough. You called this meeting because we’ve finally got that stone. If you’re not gonna share, I’d like to go home.”

  Crystal’s face tightens. She points at me with the crystal, like it’s an extension of her hand. “You don’t get to say how things—”

  She’s cut off as the quartz slips from her grip and flies straight to my hand. I catch it reflexively and stare down at it, dumbfounded. I barely formed the thought that things would be so much easier if she’d just hand the stone over, and now here it is in my possession. Did I just do a spell? My experience with magic is limited at best. In my reality, Crystal taught me how to light a candle, and the surge of energy that accompanied it was enough to scare me. The only other spell I’ve done—on purpose—is the one that moved us through time.

  I held this crystal last night. I took it from the clearing by the river where we did the spell, back to Jodi’s house, convinced I needed its power to cure her of a curse. I sensed the magic in it then, but I was too distracted, too hopped up on adrenaline to focus on it. Now the energy fills me, moving like wildfire from my right palm to every other part of my body, making my skin tingle and my hairs stand on end. I can do anything with this much power. No wonder Crystal didn’t want to give it up. Possibilities open themselves up to me—everything I could accomplish with this much magic. I could set things right—to the way they’re supposed to be. I could make Owen remember the two of us together, make Lexie remember that she and Crystal aren’t friends—and I could make sure Jodi remains uncursed and my mom stays alive. I can have everything.

  But to do those things, I need this power. Not the others. What would they even do with magic like this? They don’t deserve this magic, this power. No. I’m the one who needs to control it.

  My ring warms around my finger. My vision clouds and the flash overtakes me so quickly I’m not able to prepare for it. I can’t see anything, just a soft and milky nothingness. I’m pressed in on all sides, surrounded by something cold and hard. A hot wave of pain tears through my body and I try to scream, but no sound comes out. Cool air brushes my skin—I’m free of my prison. But I’m empty; I’ve lost something, something important. And I need it. Rage boils in my stomach. I will reclaim it.

  The skin of my ring finger is burning, I’m sure of it. The heat of the ring is overwhelming, cutting through the vision, pulling me back to present. I blink rapidly and the room comes back into view. I still clutch the crystal in my hand, and although I could swear there were flames dancing around my father’s ring seconds ago, the area looks completely normal. In fact, the skin under the ring is cool again, like nothing happened.

  “Give it back,” Crystal snaps, holding her hand out to me.

  Has no time passed? Fox’s face is unconcerned, not like it would be if I’d been unresponsive for any length of time. I stare at the quartz in my hand. The energy is still there, but it’s contained within the stone again, not filling me the way it did. I hold it out toward Crystal but hesitate. Did she experience the same thoughts that went through my head—the certainty that no one else should be able to wield the magic within? A look in her eyes is all I need to confirm the suspicion. I can’t give it back to her, not if it’ll bring on another episode of throwing people across the room. Instead, I place the quartz in Fox’s hand, watching his face for a reaction.

  Besides surprise, I don’t see a change behind Fox’s eyes. I allow my fingers to linger on his hand, reaching out with my psychic abilities the way I used to with Owen. As psychics, Owen and I would practice sending thoughts to each other, but a person doesn’t have to be psychic for me to pick up on his thoughts or feelings—I’ve been doing it accidentally for years. Slowly, a faint echo builds in my brain. I sift through the noise to decipher what’s going on in Fox’s head. He’s curious, confused, but not filled with desire for magic or plans for the power within the crystal. Removing my fingers, I sigh. It’s not affecting him the way it affected me.

  “Why don’t you guys take turns trying a spell with the crystal?” I smile encouragingly at Fox.

  Crystal releases an exasperated sigh but I catch her eye, raising my eyebrows. She and I need to talk, but not here in front of everyone else. I hope she gets my meaning.

  Fox grins as he stares down at the stone. He squares his shoulders and takes in a breath before turning to Lexie and holding it out to her. “Ladies first. You did, after all, suffer bodily harm for a chance to hold this thing.”

  Lexie hesitates before taking the crystal and smiling. “Thanks, Fox.” She sounds surprised.

  As she moves toward the center of the seating area, I grab Crystal’s arm and tug her toward the stairs. “We need to talk,” I mutter.

  She fights for only a moment before letting out a sigh. “Fine. I don’t want to watch this anyway.” Over her shoulder, she calls, “Don’t light anything on fire.”

  Lexie’s sarcastic ha ha follows us as we ascend the stairs. I don’t release Crystal’s arm until we’re safely in the living room. I cross to the couch but don’t sit: Crystal lingers in the archway between the living room and dining room.

  “What is it?” She rests her left hand in th
e crook of her right arm and examines the nail beds of her free hand.

  “Come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  She glances up only momentarily before resuming her study of her fingertips. “Feel what? Besides pissed that Lexie tried to grab the crystal from me. I thought she was bad before. And now, apparently, I have to deal with her because she’s in the circle.” She rolls her eyes for effect. “Make that one mark against this reality.”

  My mouth drops open. “That’s not what I’m talking about—”

  “Oh, I suppose you thought it was fine for her to take it from me. Clearly. I can’t believe you used magic to take it from me. That was kind of a bitch thing to do, you know.”

  “I didn’t mean to. It just kind of happened—”

  The look on her face silences me. She doesn’t believe me. “Does this conversation have a point? Because I’d like to get back downstairs.”

  “Can you even hear yourself right now? If anyone’s being a bitch, it’s you.”

  Crystal closes the space between us in three strides. She stands so close I can see the faint sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks. “Have you got something to say?”

  I fight the urge to take a step back. “I think there’s something wrong with the crystal. I— I felt something when it was in my hand. It was an overpowering desire to keep all the magic for myself, to not let anyone else touch it.”

  Her eyebrow hitches upward. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t touch it anymore.”

  “You shouldn’t either.”

  She snorts. “What?”

  “Are you honestly gonna tell me you didn’t have the same feeling when you had it? That it’s not the reason you didn’t want to hand it over to Lexie?”

  “I didn’t want to give it to Lexie because I wanted to discuss the anchoring spell before everyone got carried away messing around with magic.”

  As if on cue, cheers sound from the basement. Crystal holds up her hands as if to say see what I mean?

  She has a point; still, I can’t believe her motives were that pure. “You knocked Lexie across the room.”

  She shrugs. “She was climbing on me. Tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing.”

  The fact that I wouldn’t is clouded by my memory of holding the crystal in my hand. If someone had tried to take it from me while those emotions coursed through my body, I may have. “There’s something wrong with the crystal. I don’t think— You shouldn’t anchor the circle to it.”

  Her eyes go round. “Are you on crack? Of course we’re gonna anchor to it. I understand you’re new to all this, but we’ve been looking for this thing for years. The crystal will focus our magic so we can channel it better, use it better. Without an anchor, the magic is sporadic and unpredictable. Now, if memory serves, that’s exactly what scared you about learning to use your own abilities.”

  I press my lips together. She’s right about that. “I get that you’ve been looking for this thing forever. I’m the one who helped you find it, remember?”

  “Yeah, but only because you wanted it for something.” Her eyes narrow. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You don’t want us to anchor to it because you want it. You want all that magic for yourself.”

  An echo of the desire that coursed through me minutes earlier returns, but I tamp it down. “That’s not it. I’m serious, Crystal. There’s something—” The word evil bubbles to my lips, but I don’t say it. “There’s something dark about it.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re being paranoid. It’s just magic. And, loath as I am to admit it, you’re the one with the most magic in you. You should know better than anyone that it isn’t bad on its own. It’s just… natural.”

  Although her tone doesn’t suggest jealousy, she can’t hide her true feelings from me. I’m the one with the most ability—even if I’m not the most experienced. What the circle wants most of all is more access to abilities. If that’s the case, maybe there’s something Crystal’s overlooking. “What about me?” I ask as the thought takes shape. “Instead of anchoring to the crystal, could you—I don’t know—anchor to me? Then you could use my magic and—”

  She shakes her head. “You mean a binding spell?”

  “Sure—what’s that?”

  Another eye roll. “It’s a way to link people together. The circle looked into it years ago. It’s not the same as anchoring to something like the crystal. If we bind together, one of us could have more power—sure—but at the expense of everyone else. It’s just a way to pool energy, not give everyone access to more.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” I insist. “Why don’t we try a binding spell first, and if—”

  “No. We’re anchoring to the crystal. That’s final.”

  Another exuberant shout sounds in the basement and Crystal shifts, easing backward. I’m losing her—she wants to get back downstairs. Panic floods me. The anchoring spell—that’s why we’re here. “Are you doing the spell tonight?”

  She shakes her head. “It has to be done on the full moon. The next one’s Tuesday night. There’s some prep work we’ve got to do first, but I’m pretty sure we can be ready by then.”

  A shiver courses through me. Two days. “Look, promise me something: If I can prove to you that there’s something wrong with that crystal, you won’t anchor to it.” When she just stares at me, I grab her arm and give her a shake. “Crystal.”

  She pulls out of my grip. “Okay, whatever. But you’re wrong. The crystal’s perfectly fine. You’re just being paranoid.”

  Another cheer rises from the basement and Crystal pivots on her heel and heads for the stairs without a backward glance. As I watch her, I twist my ring around my finger, gasping as a sharp pain ricochets up my arm. With the thumb and forefinger of my left hand, I wiggle the ring from its resting place. Beneath the band is a shiny red strip of skin, like a burn.

  Chapter Four

  Nerves knot my stomach Monday morning. I’m not at all prepared to go to school. What if someone there can tell I’m not the girl I’m pretending to be? Before I get out of bed, I consider pretending I’m sick but quickly abandon the idea: My mom has always been of the if-you-don’t-have-a-temperature-you’re-not-sick school of thought and I don’t want to lose the gamble she’s different on the point in this reality.

  I take extra care selecting my outfit, not wanting another lecture from Crystal about not trying hard enough. I leave my hair straight and down, though. In addition to not having the faintest idea how to get it all wavy, keeping my hair down has been my default for most of my life. I used to use my hair as a curtain to hide behind, and I might need that security today.

  I sit patiently in the living room after breakfast, waiting for someone to take me to school, but neither Jodi nor my mom seem like they’re planning to do so. Their voices float to me from the kitchen; their easy banter is a weight in my stomach. They’re friends here. I’ve never known them as friends. But if we’ve been living here for years, it makes sense that they would have built a rapport in that time.

  An engine rumbles and I peek out the window. A large black truck sits in the driveway. It’s the same truck I saw at Fox’s house yesterday and I sigh. Of course, it’s his.

  My mom emerges from the dining room and peeks out the window above my head. A smile touches her lips. “You and Fox aren’t in a fight, are you?”

  I force a smile and shake my head. “No, we’re not fighting. I’m just… lost in thought.”

  Fox taps on the horn again—an almost polite beep—and I sigh. “I should go.” I wrap my arms around my mom, pulling her tight against my body. She stiffens for an instant before returning the embrace, rubbing my back with one hand and cradling my head with the other. I hold on a beat too long and she takes the opportunity to plant a kiss on the top of my head. A prickling sensation gathers in the corners of my eyes and I pull away quickly, not wanting to tear up in front of her. How would I explain my reaction? There’s no way she’ll believe the
re isn’t something wrong with me and Fox, and there’s no way I can tell her the real truth, that I never thought I’d be able to hug her again. Instead, I duck away and grab my backpack off the couch.

  Mom sniffs and shakes her head. “You must be having a weird day.”

  I rub my eyes as I rush out the door. When I get to the passenger side door of Fox’s truck, I stare at it in wonder. How am I supposed to get into this thing? The underside of the truck has to be at least two feet off the ground. I pull open the door and take in a breath. I have to pretend like I’ve done this before—like I’ve done this every day since Fox bought this ridiculous thing. I place one hand on the open door and the other on the truck’s frame and hike my foot onto the step before trying to hoist myself into the cab. It takes me several tries and by the time I make it into the passenger seat, Fox is shaking with barely-suppressed laughter.

  I glare at him as I swing the door closed. “Something amusing?”

  He presses his lips together as he puts the car into gear and backs out of the driveway. It’s not until he’s heading down the street that he looks at me, his gray eyes dancing. “Nothing. I just forgot how much I enjoyed watching you struggle to climb into this thing.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks. “Well, it’s ridiculous.”

  He laughs. “Thus the basis of its appeal.” He reaches over and places his hand on my leg, squeezing above the knee. On instinct I put my hand atop his, prepared to push it off, but I stop at the last second; I have to pretend. I settle for patting Fox’s hand twice before pulling mine away. “Don’t tell me you like Griffin’s Mustang better? You complained all last week when he was working on the truck that you couldn’t wait till I got it back. Did it finally win you over?” He pulls up to a stop sign and studies me before continuing. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of climbing in again, just like you did before. Don’t forget who wanted me to get this thing in the first place.”

  Fox laughs but I flush. Is he implying that I’m the reason he drives this monstrosity? No, he can’t be. No matter what reality, there’s no way I’d support him in buying something so giant and unnecessary.