The Joy of Hex

by Sarina Dorie

  He closed his eyes, his forehead furrowed in concentration. “I’m sorry . . . I don’t have the magic to sense life as I once had.”

  “But if I am pregnant, that means you’re going to start to recover, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded. “Just so. If I have collected my debt, it means my father might forgive me for some of my rebellious behavior. He might even help protect our household or give me a new home.”

  It was hard to say which was worse, King Viridios’s inattention when his son needed him most or a favor with the high price that came with it.

  The first order of business was my sketchbook. Not for drawing—though I was inspired. I flipped it open, finding the portrait Derrick had sketched of me. Flickers of light undulated against the page. This had been the last page of Alouette Loraline’s journal that Derrick had torn out, possibly thinking it was a blank book, or possibly because he had known what it was.

  Vega had banished the spell that concealed the text on the other pages, but not this one. I’d kept this page separate. I tried the spell for detecting poisons and curses, not actually expecting it to work. It didn’t. My instincts told me my biological mother wouldn’t have wanted her journal to fall into the wrong hands. She would have used a spell only for advanced Witchkin—possibly only for other Red affinities.

  I directed a small amount of electricity into my hand and touched it to the page. Magic rippled across the surface and dissolved. Across the page was drawn a diagram. No, not a diagram. It was the school crest, only there was a fourth symbol of lightning shooting out of a dragon. The picture was drawn with black ink, but I imagined this symbol would be red.

  In the margin, Alouette Loraline had written: Together, all colors blend into white to make the purest form of light. Unified, we are strong. As one, we will topple our oppressors. It’s only when all colors come together that they can strengthen the Red affinity instead of the Red affinity strengthening the magic of others.

  I didn’t know what that meant. The rest was in Old High German—not my favorite dead language. I could tell from the format that there was a list of ingredients. It looked like a spell. Some of the words were familiar enough that I recognized the unicorn horn and virgin’s tears. I remembered the spell used to create a Red affinity well enough that I understood what I was looking at. This one was different, though. There was an additional ingredient at the bottom.

  A dragon egg.

  I couldn’t read all the notations and comments Alouette Loraline had written in the margin, but I thought I understood the most important part. What I had found solidified my suspicions about the idea of balance.

  I understood how to become a powerful witch—more powerful than Alouette Loraline. It wasn’t about dominance and power. It was about balance and opposites. Everything I needed was contained in the colors of the rainbow.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Vega’s Wish Come True

  Excitement trembled through me. I could barely contain the inspiration. I had to share it. I left the paper and searched the estate for Vega, finding her in the nursery with the children. She held her baby, bouncing him up and down. She smiled and cooed at Sebastian. He was probably about five months old. I had never seen what my own daughter looked like at that age.

  I pushed away that pang of regret. I hated to interrupt one of the few times I found Vega smiling with such unrestrained joy, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “Vega, I know how to help you resurrect the dead!” I said. At least, I suspected I did.

  The children stopped playing with their toys. They all turned toward me, expressions somber and scared.

  “Necromancy?” someone whispered.

  “Hush,” the nanny said.

  Vega lifted a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Clarissa, darling, you’re going to frighten the children.”

  I glanced around at the wide eyes around me. “Sorry,” I said.

  It was an insensitive thing to say, especially so soon after the death of one of their adopted siblings.

  “I need to speak with you privately,” I said.

  Vega kissed her son and placed him in the bassinet.

  She strode out of the room, her heels clicking across the floor. “I hope this isn’t going to be another one of your brilliant ideas that ends in failure and disappointment yet again.”

  “Ditto.”

  I took Vega to the dance studio next to Imani’s room. Or what was left of it. One wall opened to the sky and part of the ceiling was gone. Splinters of glass from the broken mirrors dotted the floor, glistening like dewdrops.

  Vega’s heels crunched over broken bits of glass. “What’s your newest greatest plan for making me the most powerful witch alive?”

  I almost laughed out loud. That had never been my plan. “Is that what you think makes someone the most powerful Witchkin? To be able to raise the dead?”

  “An ordinary witch wouldn’t be able to execute such difficult magic. Only a powerful witch can perform such feats. So, yes. If I could bring the dead back to life, I would be the most dangerous and competent witch alive.” A little smile curled her lips upward. “I could wear any color I wanted. Even pink, and no one would doubt my power. Not that I would wish to wear pink.”

  There was her motivation. She wanted everyone to see her as powerful. Now I had to make mine clear. Or try to. So much inspiration was swimming in me it was hard to make my mouth work. It would have been easier to paint a picture.

  “We need balance to win this war. I am going to be the light, and you will be the darkness.” I placed a hand on my belly, thinking about the child conceived inside me. “I am going to represent life. Your interests represent death.”

  She crossed her arms. “Oh really? And just what makes you think this?”

  “I transcended out of my body and touched the Ruby of Divine Wisdom.”

  Vega stalked closer to the broken wall. “Great. Now you get to be even more of a know-it-all.”

  “You’re going to have to do the same and touch the Ruby of Divine Wisdom to transcend so you can gain knowledge and power.” And hopefully she didn’t turn evil like Alouette Loraline had.

  She crossed her arms. “I already tried. It didn’t work.”

  “Your affinity reacts strongest when you’re dancing, right?” I said.

  The wind ruffled her hair from the broken wall, sending black strands into her face. “Your point?”

  “Sex or pain isn’t going to work for you. Pure electrical energy will make you strong and can serve as a catalyst, but you need to fuel your affinity with the focus that brings you the most joy. You’re full of magic right now. You need to take advantage of that and dance.”

  “I’ve already tried dancing with Elric after one of our excursions. It isn’t going to work.”

  I hesitated. “Yes, but you haven’t danced with me.”

  She turned to me slowly, eyes narrowing. “You can’t dance.”

  “I can do some swing and salsa.” If I could remember it from the lozenge Thatch had made for me during our dancing date. “But I don’t think it matters what I do. The point is, you can.”

  Her grumpy expression didn’t change.

  “Will it hurt you to try?” I asked.

  Vega snapped her fingers, and jazz music drifted toward us, crackling like it was being played by an old-fashioned phonograph. She swept her hand to the side. Glass scraped across the floor, pieces clinking against each other like wind chimes. I dodged to the side. Vega yanked on the hem of her green day dress. It fell away, revealing a black-fringed flapper dress. It was exactly her style.

  The music picked up tempo. I didn’t know whether I was listening to swing or tango, or a fusion of the two, but then, that wasn’t surprising. I didn’t know music, not like she did. She kicked at the hem of my day dress, and it transformed into a ruffled black skirt, high in the front and longer in the back. It showed off hot-pink-and-black-striped stockings.

  “Wow.�
�� At least she knew my fashion taste.

  I wondered whether she was getting a muse-magic contact high from me.

  “Let’s get this over with.” Vega extended a hand to me. “I’m ready for the most disappointing dance of my life.”

  I knew enough to start with the correct frame for good ballroom posture. I placed one hand on her shoulder and the other in her palm, allowing her to lead. I’d been enjoying the waltzes, minuets, and period dancing with Elric. This wasn’t so different. Only lively. Closer. Faster.

  “You surprise me,” Vega said. “You aren’t a complete klutz.”

  “Right. Thanks.” It was easier not to trip when I wasn’t wearing a long skirt. Also it helped when my dress wasn’t lit on fire like that one time.

  “Can you . . . lead?” She looked away when she said it.

  I sensed a vulnerability in her, something she didn’t like others to see. I suspected this was what she needed to reach her happy place. She had to give up the reins and allow someone else to take charge for a moment so that she could let go.

  Knowing Vega’s need for control, I suspected it wasn’t easy for her to ask.

  “Anything for you,” I said. “That’s what friends are for.” I wanted her to know she could trust me.

  Vega closed her eyes. The beat in the music slowed. Her movements tempered to match it. I sensed the magic shifting inside her. The music slid sideways, changing into butterflies and snowflakes. Sweat smelling of autumn and petrichor beaded on the back of her neck. She let out a shuddering breath and released a rainbow.

  “Rise higher,” I said. “Let yourself become one with the stars.”

  It was tempting, the idea of rising out of my body and joining her in the dance in the cosmos, but this was Vega’s moment. It was her ruby to grasp. I simply swayed and stood with her for moral support. The music had gone silent. The only beat I heard was that of her heart pounding against my chest.

  I didn’t experience the same euphoria watching this from the outside as I felt when I was experiencing it myself, but I tasted threads of that magic in her, so I knew what was happening.

  She shuddered and leaned against me. It took all my strength to hold her upright. She swayed in a slow dance. The room was quiet save for the song of wind and the rustle of trees from outside.

  Vega lifted her head from my shoulder.

  “Did you get the Ruby of Divine Wisdom? Do you feel powerful?” Did she have power over death?

  She stepped away from me and rubbed her eyes. “That was great, but I don’t remember a thing. Except maybe . . . something about chocolate. Do you remember chocolate in these visions?”

  “Um, no.” I tried not to let my disappointment show. “You need to practice lucid-dreaming techniques. The first book Felix made me read to practice magic was called Lucid Dreams and Subconscious Messages. I think I can retain awareness because of the exercises in the book. If you study it, then I bet you can do what I do. You’ll be able to retain control and awareness while you transcend your consciousness.”

  “I’ve already read it. Ages ago.” She yawned. “I suppose it won’t hurt to give it another try. I’ll see whether I can get a copy from the school. If Gertrude won’t let me check out a copy, perhaps Thatchy will steal one from the library for me.”

  Right. Thatch was the last person I knew who would steal a book from the school library.

  It was torment waiting for Thatch to arrive at Elric’s estate that evening. When he did, the sky outside was dark. He looked exhausted.

  “Long day?” I asked.

  “Indeed. I had to assist Mr. Khaba in finding all the tables and chairs this morning. Some students thought it would be a brilliant idea to animate their arms and legs so that they walked off. After school in detention—” He stopped, looking me up and down. “What have you done with yourself?”

  I assumed he wasn’t talking about what Vega had done with my dress. “Do you mean my magic?” It was hard not to smile.

  “Indeed. It’s quite . . . peculiar.” He frowned.

  “Do I seem more whole to you?”

  “Perhaps.” He squinted at me. I felt his consciousness poking at my energy, trying to grasp what was going on.

  “Can we go to the dungeon?” I asked. “There’s something I want to show you.” I tugged him toward the stairs.

  “With you, I can only imagine one thing that would make you so . . . urgent.”

  I laughed and shook my head. He was only halfway right.

  I took his hand, leading him to his chamber of secrets. “You need to take off all your clothes and let me torture you.” I reminded myself, this wouldn’t be like with Odette. I wasn’t using him or hurting him. I was fueling his affinity, and he would enjoy it. This was an act of love.

  He grimaced. “The last time you suggested pain magic, it was so you could try to manipulate me into making a bargain with you. I should think I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Har har. I won’t do that again. I only tried to manipulate you because you kept my memories from me. Now I have my memories. I don’t have any hidden agendas.” He had trusted me enough to tattoo him the night Imani had been abducted. Of course, that hadn’t been my request either. My motivations had been focused and laid out bare for him to see when we’d added a clause to our oath of fealty for each other.

  I wanted him to trust me again. I needed us to be close like we once had been. “I just want to help you become stronger and return your magic to you.”

  “Certainly. You have an altruistic intent. It has nothing to do with you wanting something and using me as a means to get it.”

  I halted on the stairs. Was that my motivation? Did I only wish to help him so he could help me?

  “That was meant as a joke,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  “Obviously it wasn’t funny, or you would have laughed.” He draped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me against his side.

  “I think we have the same goals,” I said. “We want to be together, safe, and happy.”

  “Correct.”

  I buried my face against his chest, inhaling his scent of books and starlight. “We want all our loved ones to be safe. That means we need to be strong and complete.”

  “I agree.” He kissed the top of my head.

  I squeezed him around the ribs, trying to transfer some of that love inside me to him. “If I promise to be trustworthy, and don’t trick you, do you think you’ll be able to let go and allow yourself to enjoy pain magic?”

  His fingers threaded through my hair. “Isn’t it time for supper? We’re going to be late.”

  “Don’t change the subject.” I stared up into the storm clouds of his gray eyes. “This is more important.”

  He sighed. “If you are willing to give me pain without introducing any pleasure, then yes. I will see whether I can enjoy being tortured.” He said it so gloomily one would have thought I actually was going to be pulling out his teeth.

  The idea of hurting the man I loved didn’t arouse me, yet for the first time ever, I was actually excited to see whether I might be able to restore his affinity. I felt so energized from the lightning storm, and then going into my own personal nirvana, that I wanted to share that joy and elation with him.

  He undressed down to his underwear and socks before standing in front of the wall where manacles hung. They were so widely spaced they looked impossible for him to reach each. Then again, he was tall.

  “No way,” I said, smacking his tushy playfully. “You are getting completely undressed.”

  “Very well.” His gloomy expression turned indulgent, amused. He still had no idea what I was capable of.

  “So what tickles your fancy?” I asked. “Vises? Needles?” I picked up the whip and tried to crack it. I accidentally snapped it against my arm.

  He removed it from my hands and placed it back on his table. “We will stick to something we know you are able to control. The tattoo needle.”
He opened his sketchbook from the table and handed it to me. “Don’t deviate from my drawings. If you add hearts and swirlies, it will change the meaning of the runes.”

  “What kind of spell is this?”

  “One for restoration of power.”

  Perfect. “That’s just what the doctor ordered!”

  I chained him up to his wall, standing on tiptoe to plant kisses on his chin and neck. The tattoo he instructed me to execute was to be etched into his ribs. It was an easy spot to work on, the height of a canvas at eye level. I pricked his skin, keeping his book on a stool so I could refer back to it.

  He breathed through the pain, giving away no indication whether he felt pleasure or pain.

  I placed a kiss on his heart between peeks at the book. “Did I ever tell you, that time we went to the tattoo parlor and I got my tattoo, I was afraid you hated my design so much I thought you might change my stars into something else?”

  “Your design was . . . cute,” he said. “Just inappropriate for someone not trying to pass as a Celestor.”

  “You said my art was simple.”

  “The art was simple.” He offered me a small smile. “But it was well-executed.”

  “Someday I’ll add flowers, animals, fire, and water to go with it.” He would be able to execute that tattoo for me—once pain didn’t make me as weak. I would add all the affinities, all the colors of the rainbow, including the Red affinity. I wondered how an artist might represent touch as a picture. Maybe as a dragon.

  “When I was getting my tattoo, I actually thought you might make the tattoo artist give me the word ‘yolo’ but made out of penises,” I said.

  “Your imagination never ceases to surprise me.”

  I concentrated on the tattoo. My belly grumbled. Thatch’s breathing shifted, growing deeper, more relaxed. One of the servants called down the stairwell when it was dinnertime, but we ignored her.

  Sweat beaded on his lip. His skin flushed pink. I suspected he was enjoying this by now.