by Fiona Starr
Daria rushes to her feet. “Joely, are you all right?” She grabs my arm and steadies me in the chair.
My vision narrows to little pinpoints momentarily and I feel like I may pass out. Daria waves something under my nose and a sharp scent hits me like a slap. I’m back again, wide awake, but still reeling.
“What happened, are you all right?”
I shove my hair out of my eyes and tuck it behind my ears. “I guess it’s still kind of new. The idea of biological parents.”
She stares at me blankly for a second as it dawns on her. “My goodness, Joely. You didn’t know?”
I shake my head and fight back tears. “Once I got here and people knew about my sisters, they said things that made me wonder. Then my sisters kind of freaked out when they realized I was an initiate.”
“I imagine they must have been surprised as well.”
I laugh bitterly. “You could say that.”
“I’m so sorry to have dropped that on you like that. I assumed you knew. It never occurred to me…”
“No, it’s all right. It’s not your fault. I think that’s what is so troubling, you know? How is it that I wasn’t told? Why would they keep it a secret?”
“Something in your tone tells me that you aren’t ready to discuss this with your family.” she says.
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, in that case, I wonder if you’ll allow me to try something with you. I can do a little check of your power. I’ll be able to discern which of the ancient lines you belong to. If nothing else, it will allow us to proceed with the initiation. And perhaps it will narrow your search.”
“My search?”
“For your parents. They are obviously part of an ancient line and that means we have records on them.”
“Wow, I don’t know what to say.” My mind is racing with all of this, and I still don’t know what I am supposed to do.
“Are you interested in digging a little? You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
I find myself nodding without hesitation. I feel like I’m standing in the debris field of an explosion of my life. The bomb’s already gone off—there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t un-explode it; there’s no way to put the shattered pieces back together, even if I wanted to. There is no going back. But I’ll be damned if I am going to sit here knowing that something is so off kilter and do nothing to fix it. “Let’s dig. I want to know everything I can.”
“Great!” Her smile is excited.
“What do I have to do?”
“Not a thing. Sit back and relax, this will only take a few moments.
Daria moves her chair in front of mine and we sit face to face. She closes her eyes and waves her hands over me, starting at the top of my head and moving all the way down to my feet. She’s weaving patterns in the air, criss-crossing her arms and drawing elaborate symbols with her fingers.
A wave of energy moves over me, dancing over my skin and then pushing inside my body, probing and searching, tracing the lines along my spine and into my extremities. The sensation is almost like being dipped into a warm bath, only my skin feels cool. Whatever she’s doing, it’s operating completely inside my body.
Her energy pulls back like a whip. Daria opens her eyes and watches me, not saying a word. She seems uncertain about something. Like she doesn’t know what to say.
“How strange.”
“What is it? What did you find?” I ask.
“Joely, when your magic sparked, you said you were performing a charm? Is that right?”
I nod. “My friend and I were using the henge on my parents’ estate.”
“And it was just a charm, nothing more?”
“It was from a non-mage grimoire, but yes… it was just a charm as far as I know. Why?”
“Because whatever you did, you managed to remove most of a suppression spell that’s been concealing your power.”
Goosebumps cascade down my arms. “Suppression spell? What is that?”
“Someone deliberately hid your magic. You managed to break through some of it, but there is more of it still intact.”
Part of my magic is still suppressed? “Why would anyone do that?”
“I don’t know. It seems counter to everything we know about ancient magic. There is no reason to need to hide it from anyone. But this spell I’m seeing is old. Probably as old as you are.”
“Is that important?” I ask, feeling like an idiot.
“Joely. This was done to you. It was done deliberately, and without your consent.” She shakes her head. “Your power has been violated. The ramifications of such a crime… it just isn’t done.”
I went into this feeling hopeful, like I was about to unlock a small part of my past so I could figure out something to connect me to who I really am. Now I see there is something else going on. Why would someone do this to me? What if there is something horrible about me that I haven’t discovered yet? I know one thing for sure, I can’t handle being in the dark about anything anymore.
I look over at Daria in her chair. She’s got her arms crossed and she’s staring in my direction but not really focused on anything.
“Were you able to tell which of the ancient lines I am from?”
“Hmm?” Her eyes find mine and she blinks, coming back to the moment. “Oh, yes. Sorry. My thoughts have run away with me. You’re definitely part of the Tuath Dé line.”
“Tuath Dé,” I say, letting the words settle on my lips. It doesn’t mean anything to me. Nothing at all. But at least I have something that is true, even if it tells me nothing yet—it’s something.
Daria moves back to her desk and writes something on her notebook. “Joely, would it be all right with you if I do some digging on your behalf? I feel awful having opened such a can of worms into your lap. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself, and getting to know your fellow Society members, not peeling back the layers of your past. I’d like to help, if I can?”
“That would be so great,” I say, and I feel my chin quiver. I can’t tell if I am angry or sad or what I am feeling.
She takes one look at my face and comes over to me, wrapping me in a hug. “Oh, sweetie. It’s going to be all right. We’ll get to the bottom of this. We’ll find out who your family is, and how this awful thing happened to your power.” She steps back and braces my shoulders. “But the most important thing is that you’re going to be all right.”
Chapter Seventeen
JOELY
Conjuring class is exactly what I need after that meeting with Daria. The professor wastes no time on a lecture and instead brings us all into the yard behind her classroom for practice. I’ve been itching to do more with my power than float things across my room, but without any actual guidance I’ve been afraid I’d damage something or hurt myself or worse, someone else.
As promised, Alice and Zeke have saved a spot for me in the lecture hall, and as we head outside, they make sure that I’m with them so we can stake out a spot in the field together. It feels good to have friends like this, watching out for me as the rest of my life falls apart.
Once we are all in place, the professor paces the rows of students, making her announcements. There are about twenty of us in the class, and we’re all spaced out on a grid painted onto the grass in yellow paint.
“Good morning class, and welcome to Conjuring! I am Professor Naomi Brookwood and when I’m done with you, you’re going to be proficient in the art of conjuring!” She claps her hands and pivots when she gets to the end of the row.
“So, what is conjuring, exactly? Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know that conjuring is the act of bringing forth. It means to summon something from nothing. But we all know that you can’t actually summon something from nothing… You must have the raw materials in order to bring anything into being. I am sure you’ve all conjured shapes from piles of sand and created figurines out of a mess of broken glass?” She looks at us and smiles when several of the students nod.
“Your previous study of conjuring focused on how to conjure something from the materials that are right in front of you. But if I showed you a box of sand and then moved it to the other side of the field, you could still draw it to you and use it to create whatever you wish, right?”
I’ve watched my sisters practice conjuring all my life, so the concepts aren’t new to me. Thank goodness I can follow along so far.
“But what about the sand in the deserts of the world? What about the beaches you’ve been to on vacation? If I asked you to conjure a pile of sand from the Sahara, could you do it? Or if I asked you to share with me the scent of your favorite food. Do you think you could manufacture that for me on demand?”
Zeke calls out, “Can you teach me how to conjure a keg of beer?”
The whole class breaks out in laughter.
Professor Brookwood smiles. “You laugh, but actually, I can. But there’s a difference between creating a keg of beer that tastes the way you like it, and shoplifting a keg from the brewery’s warehouse.” She arches a brow at Zeke. “That’s an important distinction, so I am glad you brought it up. Conjuring is not sending something from one place to the next. Conjuring is manifesting. Creating. Forming something out of seemingly thin air. It’s an act of creation, not transportation.” She spins on her heel and walks back along the head of the field.
“All right, let’s begin.” With a wave of her hand, she conjures a massive pile of materials in front of each of us. There’s wood chips and glass shards, bits of metal and sand, paper, plastic, leaves and grass clippings, bark and twigs all thrown together in a heap.
“Now, using only what’s in front of you, I’d like each of you to make me a figure of your first pet. And if you were unfortunate enough to have never had a pet, I want to see your favorite animal. Your figure should be solid and sturdy enough to withstand being passed around. Bonus points if you can use more than one material in your conjuring.” She looks at her watch. “You have ten minutes, and… begin.”
I stare at my pile wondering where to start. I don’t even know any conjuring words. I glance over at Alice, who is levitating pieces of bark from the pile and making them float in front of her.
All right. I know how to move things… I eye the heap of materials in front of me and try to decide which ones would be best to use to make a figure of my rabbit, Cider. She was pure white, but not albino. She had brown eyes and long floppy ears. Everything about her was smooth and felt so good to touch.
I decide on glass. I begin calling the glass from the pile, trying to spot all the pieces I can see, and then I remember that Professor Brookwood mentioned that we can conjure anything from anywhere, even if we can’t see it. I close my eyes and call for the rest of the glass in the pile to float up, and in a moment, I have a swirling collection of shimmering shards hovering in front of my face.
I glance over at Zeke. He’s moving his hands as if he’s sculpting, but he isn’t touching the ball of iron in front of him. The iron moves as if it’s actually clay. A quick look around and I see that’s what everyone is doing.
I’ve never been a sculptor, but I know what Cider looked like. So I close my eyes and try to imagine all the glass melting together, forming a ball that I can mold. Then I picture Cider’s tiny pink nose…
“Time’s up!”
I open my eyes and I’m surprised to see a really good glass rabbit, even though it’s not totally clear that it’s my childhood pet. Cider’s ears were longer and the eyes are not right, but its’ definitely the right breed of lop-eared rabbit.
Professor Brookwood critiques everyone’s work and then with a flick of her hand it all disappears. “Well done, so we’ve established how it feels to pull objects from the immediate area. Now let’s try it with something you can’t see…”
We run through four more exercises, each one getting more difficult. I completed the second one which required conjuring a puddle of water from inside the ground. I got part of the third started, which was conjuring a bouquet of flowers. When she announces the last one which requires building a bird’s nest, my mind is totally blank.
“I can see that most of you have had enough. Can anyone tell me what’s wrong?” Professor Brookwood says.
A student in the back calls out, “I can’t see anything. In my head.”
Brookwood nods and raises her hand. “Exactly. Who else’s mind is blank?”
Just about everyone raises their hand, including me.
“So, we’ve learned that conjuring takes a lot of mental energy and focus. Those are the muscles you need to develop in order to become proficient. But proficiency isn’t enough. You also want to know your limits. Since this is first level conjuring, I expect everyone to be proficient in all that we do in class, but of course, it takes time and effort. But by the end of term, those of you for whom this comes naturally will begin to stand out. Everyone can be a conjurer. And if conjuring isn’t a primary strength for you, don’t abandon it. Harness it by digging into how it works for you. Know your limits. That way it’s always there when you need it, and you won’t be caught off guard when your mind goes blank.”
Chapter Eighteen
JOELY
I head back to my room to change for Magical Self Defense. It feels good to slip into leggings and a tank top and sneakers. I pull my hair back in a ponytail and head out, jogging across the quad to be sure to get to class on time.
“Hey, Joely!” Eliza calls from the grass. She’s marching toward me, and I can tell she’s upset. Again.
I slow to a walk and catch my breath. “Hey, what’s up?”
“What the hell did you do to mom?” She grits her teeth and gets in my face. Her breath is stale from coffee and sugar. It looks like she’s been crying.
“What are you talking about?” A guilty pang rings in my chest as I remember the last time my mom and I spoke. She was upset and had been drunk.
“Don’t lie. She told me you called. Something you said must have upset her because she’s a mess and she isn’t talking. So you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Eliza, look. I don’t…” My words are choked silent as a vice grip closes around my neck. Eliza’s hands are at her sides but I know she’s doing this. It’s signature Eliza: sneaky and cheap, and to anyone who happens by, invisible.
She bares her teeth as she speaks. “Don’t. Lie. To. Me.”
It’s ironic that I am heading to the one class that could help me out of this. I’ve never had self-defense training of any kind, mage or no. Part of me thinks about conjuring a stick to hit her with, but I don’t need any more trouble, even if it would be totally satisfying to try.
“Okay,” I say and raise my hands up in surrender.
She lets go of my throat but she doesn’t move away. “Well?”
“I don’t know… wait!” I jump back as she starts to attack me again. “Wait. Jeez, give me a chance, will you?”
She shoves her hands onto her hips and sticks her chin at me. “I’m waiting.”
“After my magic sparked, Mom and Dad had a fight.”
“About what? Was daddy upset that his little non-mage princess was no longer his little pet?”
Her words hit hard. “What? Do you really think that?”
“You’ve always been the one he was closest to. Everyone knows it. So what did they fight about?”
“I didn’t hear all of it, but I think I have figured at least part of it out.”
Eliza rolls her hand like a wheel, telling me to get on with it.
“Look, I am just guessing from what little I heard and what I know now. I have no idea if I am totally off base, but I think I’m adopted.”
Eliza wasn’t expecting that. “What?”
“You heard me. And if you think about it, it has to be true. You said yourself that nobody else in the family has ancient magic, so how is it possible that I do?”
“Because you’re a freak?” she offers, just to be mean.
I arch a brow a
t her. “Really? Come on, Eliza. I know we’ve never been friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong here. I am as surprised as everyone else.”
She scoffs. “You know, I wish I was surprised that you’ve made this all about you. That’s what you do though, right? Everything is all about you. Precious little Joely.”
“Okay. Then why don’t you tell me what we’re talking about?”
“Are you seriously going to pretend you have no idea?”
“No idea about what?”
“Mom is in the hospital. The gardener found her passed out on the back porch. When she came to, all she kept saying was your name over and over. It’s your fault.”
Whatever anger I was holding for my sister falls away. “Oh my god. Is she all right? What happened? When?”
“I don’t know why I expected you to be helpful.”
“Eliza, come on. When I talked to mom she sounded upset, but not with me.”
“There you go again, only thinking about yourself. Whatever. You can go to hell for all I care.” She flips her hair and flounces off, leaving me standing there wishing I could conjure something for her to trip over.
When I arrive at magical self-defense, I feel like I want to beat the hell out of someone. The fire inside me has my sister’s face all over it. But I know it’s not just Eliza that has me in this state. It’s everything.
A week ago my life was totally perfect. I didn’t have magic, and I didn’t really think it was a problem back then. Sure, I yearned for it just like every non-mage. Who wouldn’t want power when you know it exists?
But now that I have it, it’s brought with it so many other things. Aside from the complete life change of running away and coming here to Blakeborne and The Society, there’s the overwhelming cascade of new friends, new places, new everything. And what the hell am I supposed to do about the fact that I have a set of unknown biological parents somewhere in the world who seem to have concealed me power and thrown me away? And now the parents who raised me are having issues, and my mother’s in the hospital…