I brought two fingers to my lips and whistled loudly. There was silence for a moment and then a colossal shadow blocked out the sun directly above us. My trusted pet dragon Lucky descended with grace and enthusiasm, landing with a notable earthshake in front of us.
“Hey boy,” I said, patting his nose like the massive Labrador he thought he was. He huffed warm smoke and smiled at me with his great golden eyes.
Lucky was by far the coolest pet of all time. He used to be a stone dragon statue in the Century City Capitol Building. I’d accidentally brought him to life before I knew about my power. As a result, the dragon turned into a living, breathing creature with gray scales, silvery ridges, and a wingspan that could provide enough shade for sixty of my classmates.
Liza had taught me since then how to temporarily give life to things so they could serve a purpose then deactivate, not run amuck indefinitely and require me to straight up take their life energies (crossing the Malice Line) to deactivate them. But I was sure glad I hadn’t known how to do this at the time of Lucky’s inception. He was a radiant, wonderful example of the good my magic could bring, and I hoped he would live a long and healthy life.
Girtha and Divya climbed onboard Lucky’s saddle and I leapt onto the back of his neck. Lucky lived at Lord Channing’s since our headmistress, Lady Agnue, forbade his occupancy of our campus. The grounds at the boys’ school were much bigger in order to accommodate the heroic training aspects of their curriculum, so this environment was better suited for a creature of Lucky’s size. Add to that, I think Lady Agnue worried some of our more demure princesses would’ve had nervous breakdowns if he’d stayed with us permanently.
It was fine by me. I missed him, but he was happy here. He had plenty of room, and Jason and Daniel served as his main caretakers to make sure he was content. As a bonus, the male protagonists used Lucky for advanced training drills and flying practice, which they loved and Lucky did too.
Plus, my dragon needed the exercise. He had an overindulged habit for naps.
I gave my loyal beast a supportive pat on the neck then a light kick behind a silvery ridge to signal takeoff. He huffed enthusiastically and spread his wings. I grinned and looked back at the girls. “Hold on tight.”
We lurched into the sky toward our school.
risa, this is small potatoes for you,” Liza said.
She was speaking to me through my Mark Two—a piece of magic tech that was the latest rage in enchanted communication. Modeled like a compact mirror, the device sat on the comforter of my canopy bed. Liza’s reflection stared at me through its looking glass, eyes showing support but also frustration. Her dark curly hair took up most of the background.
I stood next to my bed. Several of SJ’s glass collectible figurines were perched on my dark mahogany nightstand; I’d borrowed them from her desk across the room. She wouldn’t mind. I glanced over at her bed, missing my friend.
“Crisa?”
“Sorry.” My attention returned to the present. “I get that this is technically no big deal, Liza. But I think you’re underestimating how hard it is to go from a hundred to twelve miles per hour.”
For my very first sanctioned magic exercise in a while, Liza wanted me to bring three glass figurines to life. I could do it. I’d given life to buildings, for goodness’ sake. But that was the problem. I’d unleashed so much magic recently that what if trying to do something small resulted in me being unable to rein the power in?
“That’s just fear talking,” Liza replied.
Darn straight.
Liza had spent the first half of the semester teaching me about concentration and focus—stressing the importance of blocking out emotion when channeling Pure Magic because that was a big trigger for losing control. However, not only had I lost control—killing that magic hunter and doing a bunch of other bad stuff too—it seemed like lately I’d been using emotion to call on my magic constantly. My powers were much stronger when I did, so despite the danger, I’d leaned into the choice on more than one occasion. When the people you loved were on the line, you put aside what was for your own good and did whatever necessary to protect them.
I took a deep breath and held out my hand. Then I closed my eyes and concentrated. The familiar tingle spread through my arm. When I opened my eyes, my fingers were sparking with golden energy; the same aura consumed the figurines. The gazelle spread its wings, the bear rolled on its back, the hippo snorted.
A slight sense of relief flooded me. The magic was calm and under my control. I made the gazelle fly, the bear do a flip, and the hippo scale the books on my nightstand like steps. Then something felt wrong. My arm throbbed. There was a surge in my chest like a jolt of caffeine straight to the heart. It was my magic. It was pounding with excitement that I was using it again. I got scared and immediately shut down the powers. The glass gazelle dropped to my comforter and the other two animals froze in place, the enchantment having left them before I completed giving it.
“Crisa,” Liza sighed. “You can’t be so wary of yourself.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I said a tad tersely, my frustration getting the better of me. “Liza, you and Merlin pushed me too far. You showed me how to use Magic Instinct to my advantage so I could let emotion step in if I needed it. You taught me how to will myself past Magic Exhaustion so I could still defend myself in times of immediate peril. In a matter of months, I went from bringing a few blocks to life to resurrecting people and sucking life from giants. Now I’m supposed to go on trial in a matter of weeks and plea that I am not powerful enough to be a threat or weak enough to lose control, but frankly I don’t know if I believe either.”
Liza’s expression remained neutral, as usual. It was annoying. Between the anti-aging spell that made her over 150 years old, and the fact that her forest-sized prison kingdom prevented her from socializing with hardly anyone, she could be a bit lacking when it came to empathy.
I had to steady my temper and remind myself that I knew she cared. When the woman wasn’t using her visions of the future to tend to the protagonist book duties the higher-ups had forced upon her, she was a dedicated mentor to me, and I appreciated that profoundly.
“I know it’s hard, Crisa. But I did warn you from the beginning about the risks of developing your Pure Magic.”
“Yes, but you—” I sighed and shook my head. “Forget it. I’m having a tantrum. I’m sorry. I am just worried about what might happen the next time someone tries to hurt my friends or me. I don’t want to lose control again.”
“Then all the more reason to go back to regular practice,” Liza urged. “You’ve crossed the Malice Line several times, yes, but you recognize that you have the choice to continue doing so or not in the future. Don’t let one lost battle define how you fight the war. Forgive yourself and instead of running from the problem, do what you do best and take charge of your fate.”
Her words stirred me.
That was what I did best.
I closed my eyes and re-centered. A little fear was a good thing; it kept you humble and reminded you what was important. But I couldn’t move forward if I let fear of power keep me from using it at all. Even if it was scary, and made me think of regrets and past mistakes, I had to go on. Something that helped was reminding myself that when I’d done my craziest magical feats I had been under the influence of the magic-enhancing event known as the Vicennalia Aurora. Believing that I was not as powerful without it was a good way to shield myself from the wariness of friends, higher-ups, and my own mind.
I shook out the nerves and cracked my neck. “Okay, let’s try this again.”
An hour after my lesson with Liza, I was outside on the beautiful grass of the Lady Agnue’s practice fields, where protagonists trained and some of our more physical classes and clubs met.
I was feeling better about my magic. Venting about it to Liza had helped. I’d gotten a grip on my nerves enough to complete the small-scale exercises she wanted me to hone my control with. That was a start. And
it made me feel like less of a hypocrite as I coached my friends on the same thing.
“Blue, just take a deep breath and concentrate on the magic inside of you. Call it. Then guide it,” I said.
My blonde, spunky friend stood a few yards away. She groaned and tilted her head back. “It’s a little hard to concentrate when Miss Levitation over there keeps making so much noise.” She shot a thumb at Kai, who used her new levitation powers to launch bales of hay and wooden barrels at a target we’d pinned against a tree.
One of the cardinal rules of magic was that it could not be destroyed; it could only change form or change hands. When my friends and I had been with King Arthur and his wife Gwenivere taking back Camelot from the ruthless King Rampart, Rampart’s magical grandmother had been killed. When she died, her magic levitation powers had absorbed into the nearest warm body—Kai.
Similarly, Blue had acquired magic when she killed Camelot’s legendary monster, the Questor Beast. Its assortment of powers had absorbed into her, and so far that had resulted in her being able to produce mist for camouflage, create acid from her saliva and sneezes, and hunt down others by detecting their fear and adrenaline like a sixth sense.
Kai’s and Blue’s diverse powers had manifested in the form of normal magic, not Pure Magic, so their powers weren’t prone to dark impulses bent on corrupting them. That remained my problem alone. Despite the differing natures in our abilities though, I was assisting both girls with developing their powers, using the tools Liza had instilled in me.
I had to say, I enjoyed helping my friends. While I might’ve been a tad jealous of their normal magic, I got a lot of satisfaction out of aiding them gain control over the power they’d been saddled with. I was good at it too, devising different training exercises to meet each girl’s needs. Both girls seemed to respond to and respect my authoritative mentor energy.
Kai’s hands were glowing with silver energy, as was custom for holders of normal magic. She levitated one last barrel off the ground, only this time instead of firing it at the target, she brought it down beside her, released her hold on it, then sat on top.
“Sorry,” she said. “Blue, go ahead. I know the mist thing is the hardest of your new powers to summon.”
Blue shook out her arms then closed her eyes for a moment and didn’t move. We’d learned that stillness of mind was key to controlling Blue’s mist powers. Suddenly my friend’s eyelids shot open. Her irises had changed to an unsettling, glowing green, like those of the monster she’d slayed.
Mist began to rise around her. It was awesome. The mist grew thicker and expanded, making Blue look like the eye of a miniature storm. It spread until her lower half disappeared and the embankment had a ten-foot radius. Then her eyes snapped back to normal and in a rapid burst the mist vanished.
She staggered a step, panting.
“You all right?” I asked, walking over to her.
“Yeah, fine,” she said. “It’s tiring, but it’s getting better, don’t you think?”
“So much better!” I exclaimed. “Keep practicing. I’m going into the barn with Kai for a few minutes to run her through some different drills.” I motioned for Kai to follow.
The school knew about my friends’ normal magic powers, so practicing out in the open was no big deal. No one bothered us, though I wasn’t sure whether this was because they respected our space or were afraid. I could take a guess.
Regular, non-Fairy Godmother people having magic was not a common thing in Book. None of our other Lady Agnue’s classmates possessed it. But since most people around here were already looking at us sideways after we returned from our last quest, we’d decided to double down on the social pariah-ness and not keep Blue’s and Kai’s powers a secret. At least their reception had been more accepting. After all, the two of them—unlike me—didn’t have people worrying that they were spontaneously going to turn evil.
Kai and I stepped inside the recently renovated barn. I directed her to an area that functioned as a great place for combat practice. There were new sparring mats laid out across the wide floor space, high ceilings, and walls upon walls of hay bales that served as dividers. The hay bale walls also provided relatively soft cushioning if you got slammed back during a fight.
“You’ve been progressing really fast,” I said to Kai. “Now I want you to try something a little . . . bigger.” I gestured at the hay walls. “When I first started practicing magic, Liza would have me take command of building blocks and form new structures out of them. I’d like you to try the same with these hay bales.”
Kai glanced around the barn and furrowed her brow determinedly. “I can do that.” She pumped herself up for a moment and then channeled her magic. In about ten seconds, her body was radiating silver energy. The glow was more intense this time, as she was putting more of a strain on her abilities. The same silver aura enveloped half a dozen bales. They shakily floated away from their respective stacks. Slowly, Kai brought them together to compose a grand arch over the sparring space.
“Not bad,” I said.
“Not bad?” Kai repeated, still holding up her hands to keep the magic activated and arch intact. “Underselling much? This is super impressive.”
“Calm down,” I replied. “You’re good at basically everything. This you’re still new at. You’ve made a lot of headway in a short time, but your power still lacks a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
I hesitated a moment before taking a confident step forward. Practice with Liza today had made me feel less angst about using my powers . . . at least in small, controlled bursts. I reckoned it was okay to unleash just a little.
“Try to hold your structure so it doesn’t fall apart,” I commanded Kai.
Hand out and wreathed in gold magic, I focused on a trio of hay bales, giving them life. I ordered them to plow into Kai’s arch and they obeyed. My bales smacked into Kai’s structure like broncos. The silver energy around them instantly extinguished and they fell to the mat. Having completed the job I’d brought them to life to execute, my bales plummeted to the ground as well.
“That’s what I mean,” I said, pivoting to Kai. “Conjuring magic is one thing. Making it strong and sturdy is another. To quote a lesson Girtha once gave me, don’t get cocky.”
Kai stared at the bales of hay. A sour look crossed her face and I noticed a small spark of anger twitch in her eyes. I took that as my cue to back off.
“I’ll leave you alone to practice,” I said. “I’m going to check on Blue.”
I hastened out of the barn. Kai was my friend, but by necessity not choice. She and I had gotten along fine initially. We had a lot in common in terms of personality, starting with our adamant girl-power driven belief systems. However, our original attempts at friendship had gotten murdered weeks ago when I half destroyed her and Daniel’s home, Century City.
Holding my friends captive, the antagonists had forced me to bring a gargantuan dragon statue to life in the capital. While inanimate things I imbued with power followed my commands, this creature hadn’t because it held life previously. The statue had been a frozen dragon the prince of Tunderly once vanquished to rescue our realm’s Sleeping Beauty, and as a result it went on a rampage across the capital.
Bringing that dragon to life had been one of the hardest choices I’d ever had to make, but in a crucial, no-time-tooverthink moment I’d done it to save my friends, particularly Kai. Our enemies had killed her right in front of us and despite the strength of my resurrection powers, the dead only had a three-minute window during which they could be saved. So I acted.
As I’d planned, after resurrecting Kai I took the life back from the dragon and ended its chaos, which was a win, but the capital and its civilians experienced a lot of damage and horror before then.
I regretted that result. The guilt of it continued to hum underneath my surface. And yet . . . I didn’t regret my choice as a whole because I was physically incapable of letting a friend die, let alone the girl Daniel loved. Pr
omise to him aside, Kai dying would kill him essentially too, and I just wouldn’t have that.
Kai didn’t see this justice in my actions though. She held my decision against me and believed I shouldn’t have sacrificed the well-being of a city for hers alone. She’d told me so without mincing words and asserted that I didn’t deserve the power I’d been given. She also added that she wasn’t sure if I could beat my Pure Magic Disease because my actions didn’t reflect real goodness.
That accusation had stung, but Kai and I had agreed to put the event behind us. Still, times like now, I had to remember our relationship was a fragile one and I shouldn’t push it.
“How’s it going out here?” I raised an eyebrow skeptically at Blue who, instead of practicing, was lying on the grass with her hands laced behind her head and her blue cloak spread out like angel wings.
“Some freshmen walked by and got freaked out when they saw the mist. So I stopped. I was tired anyway.”
I plopped myself on the grass beside her. “Well rest up. I was thinking that we should focus on your hunting powers this coming week. Oh, but once your mist gets stronger, I actually have this drill planned where you would—”
“Crisa, relax. We don’t have to be training for something all the time. Can’t we just chill?”
Chill?
I almost laughed at the suggestion. There were antagonists trying to take over the realm, I had a trial coming up that would basically decide my future, and my magic needed to be controlled constantly. When did I have time to chill?
“What did you have in mind?” I asked, despite the voice in my head.
“I don’t know. We could talk about something more fun, like Twenty-Three Skidd. Or something more juicy, like you and Chance.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not a juicy topic, Blue. It’s barely an existing one.”
“You’re not giving him a proper chance. Pun not intended.” She sat up. “You should spend some more time with the guy. You never know what could happen.”
Into the Gray Page 4