Rise of the Mage (Resurrecting Magic Book 1)

by Keary Taylor

  We stayed up the entire night reading it.

  Mom had found a book in the library of the professor who she replaced. It was a book of stories. It talked about turning water into wine. It told stories about turning rags into beautiful garments. Old tall tales. But she recorded that when she touched it, a golden shimmer washed over the book. She felt something different.

  So she tried it, thinking it was silly.

  But it worked.

  She found another book while we’d been on a weekend to Boston. In the public library. It had revealed itself to her by whispering to her as she passed by. She didn’t give many more details about what that meant.

  But over the course of four years, she amassed this collection of books. And she was able to do all the things the books taught her.

  Her abilities slowly grew stronger. She recorded her guilt for not telling my father, but she was afraid. Not of him. But of what sharing her secret might invite. There could be dire consequences. He could get hurt. She could be hunted.

  And I’d cried when I came to the passage toward the end, where my mother said she’d tested me when I was fourteen. And she knew what I was.

  She was going to tell me when I turned eighteen. She would teach me.

  I was nineteen now. I could have known for over a year. I could have been learning this whole time.

  The last entry in her journal dated just two days before she disappeared. She talked about two books she’d bought from a dealer in England. They’d taken two months just to be shipped across the ocean and arrive at her office. She hadn’t had a chance to look through them yet, but they looked like they contained new information.

  And there was nothing else after that.

  I wished she were still here. If she could accomplish all of this on her own, what might we accomplish with the three of us? How much could we further this? How much more might we find?

  So, over the coming weeks, Nathaniel and I started going through the books. We still had our lives to balance, school schedules and homework and work at the library. But with very little sleep, we were managing to read nearly a book a day.

  And we spent every single hour we weren’t in class or at the library, together. We nearly lived together, and to my surprise, my father didn’t stop us. Nathaniel came over to our house half of the nights and ended up sleeping on the couch, or I went to the solarium and now my father knew where I was the nights I didn’t come home.

  We didn’t always talk much when we were together. It was hours spent curled up together on a bed, our heads bent over books. It was me lying in his lap, him with one arm propped up along the back of the couch, a book in his other hand.

  “We need somewhere safe to practice,” I said one chilly evening at the end of October. “It’s a risk doing it here.” I looked around the solarium, where we’d been attempting to make an empty glass jar transform into a pencil. We were working on the book about transfiguration, and it was exceptionally challenging. “You’re always at risk of being caught here. Anyone could wander by and see that you’re living here. Your walls are literally made of glass. Someone could easily walk past and see what we’re doing.”

  Nathaniel sat on his bed, holding one ankle, the other foot flat on the floor. I watched him wrack his brain. And then a light sparked in his eyes. “Come on,” he said as he stood. He held a hand out for me and scooped up the book on the coffee table. “I have an idea.”

  I pulled on my coat, as did he. We gathered up the supplies we were using, and together we walked out into the fast approaching winter.

  There was a shortcut to the beach through the forgotten garden. Hand in hand, Nathaniel led me down the stone path, through the thick bushes that had lost their leaves. We had to walk carefully to avoid being caught by the thorns. I was about to suggest we prune them back, but I shut my mouth. If the path looked taken care of, someone might get curious and come looking.

  We stepped out onto the beach, and Nathaniel pointed us south.

  The tide was low, so thankfully the sand was dry. There was little seaweed up on shore, and even now, there was very little driftwood. The beach was surprisingly clean and pristine.

  It was also entirely empty, because it was only forty degrees and the wind was blowing strong.

  But as soon as we started walking, I knew exactly where we were headed.

  It took ten minutes, because walking in sand wasn’t the easiest, but we finally got to the stone steps and made our way up the bank.

  Asteria House sat there, just as forlorn and decrepit as the last time Nathaniel and I came here.

  “Grab some of this wood,” I said, nodding my chin at the broken twigs and branches that were tangled into the bushes around us. “There’s a fireplace in there. Let’s see if we can’t get some warmth inside.”

  We gathered up as much as we could carry, and then walked inside.

  If anything, it felt colder inside than it did outside. It smelled musky in here, and it was dark with no lights on. I squatted next to the fireplace and set to propping up all the kindling, while Nathaniel walked around the house and closed all the windows.

  I closed my eyes for a moment when I was done and tried to recall the words I’d read. I’d only briefly glanced through them as we sorted through the books.

  I brought my hands together and rubbed them quickly, creating heat. I opened my eyes, looking at the kindling. And then I snapped my fingers.

  Fire instantly leapt to life in the kindling.

  “Where did you learn that one?”

  I startled at Nathaniel’s voice behind me. I twisted around to see him blowing into his hands in an attempt to warm them.

  “It was in one of the books from Mom’s office,” I said as I stood, watching the flames grow brighter and hotter. “I can’t remember which one. I read it while we were sorting through everything.”

  I clung my arms to myself, trying to keep warm. Nathaniel pulled me into his arms, wrapping them around me and hugging me tightly into his chest. He wasn’t any warmer than I was, but I lay my head against his chest and breathed in peacefully.

  Quietly, we watched the fire grow. Slowly, the air grew warmer.

  Nathaniel started humming a soft song. It was something I didn’t recognize. But he took my right hand in his left. He held it light and gentle. And he wrapped his right hand around my lower back. And gently, he swayed us to the music he hummed. Back and forth. No pressure. No time limits. Just me and him.

  I looked up at his face, staring into his green eyes. My heart felt at peace. I felt relaxed.

  I wasn’t stressing about how much we had to learn. I wasn’t trying to figure out how to balance this with my class load.

  I was just there, with him.

  When he came to the end of his song, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. My hands slid up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me. His hands came to my lower back.

  This felt so natural. It just felt…good. Like it was something that I’d done every day for my entire life. It felt like something we could do every day for the rest of our lives.

  He looked into my eyes when he released me, and I smiled.

  “What would you do with this house if it were yours?” I asked, turning away. I kept one of his hands in mine, and looked around the massive room.

  Nathaniel cast his eyes around and chuckled. “Hope and pray I somehow magically came into a lot of money.”

  He was right. It would take some money to get this place back to livable conditions. All the windows facing the ocean side were cracked or broken. Most of the siding was destroyed on that side, as well.

  And with the windows blown out, water had gotten inside and caused significant damage to the walls and especially the floors.

  The kitchen had been destroyed by looters. There was evidence of homeless people having lived upstairs at one point.

  It was a mess.

  But it wouldn’t be impossible to bring back.

  With the right amount of m
oney.

  Nathaniel’s words sparked an idea. An impossible one, for now, but an idea.

  “I’d want a great big couch here,” I said, stepping into the middle of the room and indicating my hands along one space. “And a huge rug in the middle. A really thick one, thick enough you could sleep on it.”

  I turned and walked to the grand dining room. It was one of the only things that hadn’t been looted, the chandelier that hung above it, because no one could reach it. Great big windows looked out over the ocean. “And a huge dining table here, big enough to fit fifteen people.”

  Nathaniel chuckled again, following me through the house. “Just how many children are you planning on having, Margot?”

  Instantly, I felt my face blush and from the look in Nathaniel’s eyes, I saw that he realized what he’d just said. He looked embarrassed, but I could also tell he was truly thinking about it.

  I fixed my gaze on him as I slowly walked toward him and then wrapped my arms around his waist. “A whole brood,” I said, smiling. “With seven boys and five girls.”

  Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at me as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “You want twelve children?”

  I laughed, tipping up and kissing him soft and gentle. “Fine,” I said, teasing. “I’ll settle for two boys and three girls.”

  He just smiled and kissed me again, and I knew that nothing about the future was certain. Anything could happen and anything could change.

  But something right here felt real. It felt like a promise.

  Here we were talking about having five children when we’d never even said I love you, and we’d never even had sex yet.

  But still, I turned, pulling Nathaniel after me as I walked into the kitchen and talked about the cabinets I’d install, and the double oven and the pantry big enough to store food for an entire year.

  Room after room, Nathaniel followed behind me while I daydreamed about living in a mansion like this with a whole flock of children. And the further we explored, the more we realized that even five children would never fill all the rooms. There had to be somewhere around fifteen bedrooms, and a dozen bathrooms.

  Finally, we returned from our renovation tour to the grand living room. Nathaniel spun me in a dance spin and dipped me low. My hair hung behind me, sweeping to the floor. I smiled up at him, and I realized then just how much I loved his smile. I loved how he was when it was just the two of us. I loved the man he showed me when it was just me and him.

  “Never stop smiling at me, Margot,” Nathaniel said as he slowly stood me back up. He placed a hand along my jaw, caressing my face. And there was something a little sad in his eyes. There was something that spoke to his terrible childhood, and I had to wonder. How many smiles were ever pointed in his direction? How many tender words were spoken to him? Who had ever cared for him in his life?

  I reached up, mirroring his position, and gently kissed his lips. “Never,” I promised him.

  And as difficult as it was, we pulled away from each other’s arms. We pulled out the book and the supplies. And we worked. We did the hand motions. We concentrated. And after an hour of trying, we turned a glass jar into a pencil.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Halloween came and went. Classes started heating up and there were beginning to be signs of students breaking down. This first semester was when you could start to tell if a student was going to make it all the way or not. Dad always said he knew by October if a student was going to drop out or not.

  November brought with it bitterly cold wind. Which made working in Asteria House difficult. We tried bringing every spare blanket and set of sheets we could find and boarded them over the windows, attempting to insulate from the wind. But on the days there was sideways rain, we resorted to sneaking into my mother’s hidden office to practice.

  And I started having to study for classes as we got further into the meat of the semester.

  Nathaniel and I found time to get together each day, but our us time grew less and less. Our classes were intense, especially Nathaniel’s, considering he was a junior. But we were both focused on the future, not this short term. We did what we had to do.

  But I started reevaluating my goals.

  What did I really want to do with my future? Was being a Latin professor really what I wanted now? Was a life at Alderidge really the best thing I could do with myself, considering the new things I had learned?

  I wouldn’t voice those thoughts to Nathaniel. He was so close now. After this, he only had three more semesters and he would be done with his undergraduate. At least then he could decide if more education was what he still wanted.

  So, we went about our days, studying until our eyes were tired and our brains felt ready to explode from having to store so much information.

  The middle of November, I walked hand in hand down the hall with Nathaniel. I was finished with classes, Thursday being one of my lighter days. But Nathaniel had two more classes. I walked him to his next class, discussing if either of us thought the potions book from my mother’s library was plausible or not. We both had doubts.

  “You’re coming over for dinner tonight, right?” I asked, stopping outside his classroom and leaning in the door. “Dad’s making lasagna.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips with a smile.

  I bit my lower lip and watched as he walked away into the room.

  I appreciated his shoulders. The lean muscles in his forearms. His narrow hips. The set of his jaw, and the pout of his lips.

  With a smile, I turned out from the door and headed down the hall.

  I was halfway down it when someone fell into step beside me.

  I looked over to see David Sinclair.

  I didn’t even try to resist rolling my eyes.

  “I brought you something,” he said, leaning in, a sly smile on his face. He extended a package out to me.

  It was a small box with a big white bow attached to the lid. I gave him a doubtful side glance as I opened it.

  Displayed inside was a beautiful set of diamond earrings, larger than any center piece I’d seen on any wedding ring.

  “What’s this about?” I ask, looking straight forward down the hall. “Why?”

  “Because beautiful, smart, powerful women should have beautiful presents,” David said. He walked a little closer, his shoulder brushing against mine.

  I stopped dead in my tracks, only I wished I had kept walking when I looked down the hall and saw David’s lackies following behind. All of them. Borden, James, Donald, Gerald, and Howard.

  “Do you have amnesia, David?” I asked.

  He blinked at me. “No. Why?”

  “Because I know I told you quite clearly a few weeks ago that I’m not interested,” I said. I handed the box back to him and he took it with a disappointed and confused expression. “You and I are never going to be an option.”

  “But Nathaniel Nightingale is the kind of man you’re into?” he asked doubtfully.

  I didn’t much like the look on his face.

  “Nathaniel is exactly the kind of man I’m into,” I said, taking a step forward. Borden and James stepped forward, coming to David’s side like they were going to protect him from me. I smiled, looking all three of them up and down. “Because he never needed to corner me with back-up to protect his feelings from being hurt.”

  Borden’s hand darted forward and clasped around my upper arm, his fingers digging in hard.

  I looked down at it, a look of disgust curling on my face.

  I called out to the dirt beneath his fingernails and asked it to shove back beneath them.

  He let go of me with a hiss, shaking his hand out. With confusion, he glared at me, but he didn’t say anything.

  David glowered at Borden, and I at least had to give him that. He hadn’t liked that Borden had put his hands on me.

  “Stop asking me out,” I said, looking back at David. “I’m with Nathaniel. I’m exceptionally happy. And you and I
are never going to happen.”

  And with that, I turned on my heel, and I walked away.

  One week later, I was headed to my writing class, when I spotted Borden and James talking to Nathaniel in the hall. Heat instantly flared in my veins. Because they weren’t really talking. Nathaniel’s back was against a wall and the both of them were right in his face.

  I stormed down the hall. My hands curled into fists and I felt heat gathering there.

  I was still learning what I was doing. But I knew my hands were growing hot enough that if I were to touch, or slap, or punch either of them, they’d be severely burned.

  But when I was halfway to them, Borden looked over. His eyes widened just a bit. He nudged James in the shoulder, who looked over his shoulder and found me in the hall.

  Trying to look cool and calm, they both walked away from Nathaniel.

  I walked right past Nathaniel, determined that I was going to put an end to this, for good, when Nathaniel’s hand snapped out, grabbing my wrist. Had he been anything but a mage, he probably would have been burned from the temperature of my skin.

  “Don’t, Margot,” he breathed out. “It’s not worth it.”

  Maybe I was still too angry. Maybe I was flaring too hot. But I stopped in my tracks and my head whipped back to look at Nathaniel.

  “Why won’t you stand up to them?” I seethed. “Why won’t you make them stop, even if it means a few bruises once? Why won’t you tell David how it is so he will finally leave us alone?”

  Shocked hurt reflected in his face. There was something in his eyes, and if I’d taken a moment, maybe I would have been able to read it.

  But I was too angry. At him. At the Society Boys. At life.

  So, I just turned, and I stormed off in the opposite direction, headed to my last stupid class of the day.

  I avoided Nathaniel for the rest of the day. I regretted what I’d said. I didn’t buy into society’s expectation of manliness. I didn’t want Nathaniel to feel as if he had to be macho and swing his fists and grunt and claim woman, mine.