Wounded Magic

by Megan Crewe

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “All these people are down for the same date, in different places. There’s no way all these people have something to do with special ops… They can’t even all be mages. What the heck is this?”

  I scrolled down and found the point where the records switched to the following date. That list went on and on too. “There’ve got to be thousands of entries here. All back in the early ‘80s. Are this many people even born on any one day…?”

  My voice trailed off as it hit me. That could be exactly what this data was. The Confed tested every new baby in their domain for “magical capacity” within the first few days of birth.

  I typed my name into the search field. An entry darted up: Rocío Maria Lopez. April 20, 2002, Brooklyn, New York, Brooklyn Hospital Center. At the far right of the row was a number that didn’t mean anything to me: 39.

  “Wow,” I said. “They have a registry of everyone born since they started testing after the Unveiling.”

  Desmond leaned over as I typed in his name. Another entry popped up, with a hospital in Chicago.

  “Your birthday is February 8th?” I asked.

  He inclined his head. “Crazy. But I guess it makes sense that they’d keep track of this stuff.”

  He had a number at the far right too: 27. I eyed it. “They must keep the Dull kids’ records too, or there wouldn’t be anywhere near this many.”

  I skimmed down the list again, this time focusing on the numbers. Most of them were in the single digits, but here and there I’d spot a higher one. None of them, so far, higher than my 39. A strange prickling sensation coiled around my gut.

  I typed in Prisha’s name. 23. Finn and Leonie weren’t there, but then, they were old magic. I’d bet the Confed didn’t test those kids. Brandt wasn’t in the database either.

  Sam came in at 28. Tonya, 16. Javi, 19.

  My heart started to thud as I entered the names of some of the Dull kids I’d gone to school with.

  3. 7. 1. 5. None of them over 10. I bit my lip.

  Desmond had been watching my progress carefully. “That number has something to do with what they found when they tested us,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m starting to think that’s our magical capacity right there. But the Dulls… They don’t have zero. No one has zero.” My hands went still over the keyboard. “Desmond, what if they’re not really Dull?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Finn

  I might have been returning to the most dangerous endeavor of my post-Exam life, but only one word could describe the feeling that swept through me as I stepped into the library conference room: relief.

  The Freedom of Magic League was circulating around the long tables scattered throughout the room, their voices blending together into a wave of chatter. The smell of cheap coffee and close-to-stale pastries reached my nose. The meeting might have been in a new space, but everything was perfectly, wonderfully familiar.

  For a second before I’d been allowed in, I’d been gripped by the fear that one of the three pseudo-bouncers who’d looked me over would toss me out by the collar. They certainly hadn’t given off the friendliest vibe. Then Luis had spotted me and stepped out, and we’d rehashed most of the conversation we’d had yesterday over the phone. I suspected he’d wanted to watch my face while I explained my motivations for being part of the League and my disgust with my granduncle’s role in the Circle, so he could better judge the veracity of those claims.

  My honesty must have been clear, because here I was: meandering through a space three times as large as the church room where I’d attended my first meeting, nodding to the many faces I recognized… and trying not to falter at the tensed expressions and averted eyes I was frequently getting in return.

  Luis might have shut down conversation about me as much as possible in the last week, but clearly word had gotten around despite his efforts.

  Grabbing a cola from the refreshment table seemed safe enough. On my way over, a head of red hair came into view nearby. I caught Callum’s eye and gave him a slight tip of my head. He’d done his bit, at least well enough that Luis had been convinced.

  My former classmate’s mouth twitched in what looked like a suppressed grimace, which I guessed was about as much friendliness as I could have expected from that quarter. He was still the bully who’d prodded me every chance he could get for our twelve years at the Academy. As the Fates willed it, let him be stewing over what I might know about his performance during the Exam.

  The figures around the refreshment table parted at my arrival as if everyone were afraid they might catch some Circle-mage pathogen from me if I passed too near. I managed to shoot a quick smile around me anyway as I took one of the cans. Then I slipped away to a vacant space by the wall, where I could watch the proceedings without intruding on anyone—and possibly lick a few wounds to my ego.

  I was reasonably certain I knew what Rocío would have said about this: You can’t blame people for being cautious. Think about how many decisions the Circle has made that’ve hurt them. It’ll take time for them to accept that you’re different.

  It’d taken time for her to trust me, even fighting side by side in the Exam. I’d put my foot in it more than once with her, and I probably would again. How could I even complain when this wariness was the trade-off for the huge house and the extensive library and so many favors offered to me over the years?

  I hadn’t lost everyone’s faith. Noemi moved toward me through the crowd with a tight but sympathetic smile.

  “How are you doing?” she asked as she joined me.

  I shrugged and smiled back more easily this time. “I’ve had warmer receptions. But I’m glad to be here at all.”

  Her gaze darted through the room. She dropped her voice. “There’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s—”

  “Okay, people!” Luis called from the table that’d been pushed up against the far wall as a makeshift stage. “It’s great to see so many of you here tonight. Let’s get this meeting started!”

  I turned to Noemi, but she shook her head. “It can wait until after.”

  Luis raised a fist in the air. “We want this next rally to be our largest yet—at least a thousand people on the street. How many of you are here for the first time?”

  Dozens of people waved throughout the crowd.

  “All the way from Arkansas!” a guy shouted.

  “I made it here from L.A.”

  “Vancouver.”

  “Atlanta!”

  Next, Tamara climbed up on the “stage” to share tips for finding more concerned people to recruit. A guy got up and talked about making appeals to family members and friends who were full mages. Then Luis took the microphone again.

  “We want to get moving with this rally. We’ve got the people, and our group is growing by the day. Let’s make it happen this week. The only thing left to decide is where we’ll draw the most attention this time.”

  Several people near the front tossed out suggestions in a clash of voices. Ary hopped onto the end of the table. Her sharp comment cut through the rest of the cacophony.

  “We’ve got a Lockwood here, don’t we? Let’s find out what he can tell us with all his inside info.”

  She stared in my direction with a smile that might have looked encouraging if you didn’t know her. It gave me the impression that she was considering how to flay the flesh from my bones.

  I hadn’t come here planning to act as any kind of leader. After everything, I’d intended to keep my head down and simply show I could be a good follower, the way I’d meant to in the first place.

  There wasn’t any easy way I could see to refuse Ary’s request, though. Luis motioned me forward. Swallowing hard, I wove through the crowd to the edge of the table, but there my legs balked. It didn’t feel like my place at all to be getting up there.

  “Well, what advice can you give us tonight?” Ary said with an arch of her eyebrows.

  I couldn’t
tell whether she truly wanted to make use of me now that I was here or whether she was hoping I’d make a fool of myself. Either one seemed equally possible—and at this point, equally likely to occur. I tipped my head back as I deliberated.

  What would my granduncle absolutely despise? What would make him feel as though we had power that he and the rest of the Circle couldn’t simply continue to ignore? The Confederation didn’t have any special events in the works that I was aware of until next month. The League wanted to act now.

  My thoughts traveled back to that night when Granduncle Raymond had confronted me after one of the early meetings I’d attended, and to the things I’d said to him. Immediately, all the fury I’d been holding in since the Exam stirred up again.

  I hadn’t been lying to Ary about being angry, no matter what she thought.

  “It’s the members of the Circle who make the decisions on policy,” I said. “They’ll look the other way and let their security force deal with us as long as they can. So I’d say we should get right in their way where they can’t avoid us. With a thousand people, we could probably surround the Confed’s main building, where the Circle’s chambers are. Blockade them in there for as long as we can. That’s the best idea I have.”

  Luis was nodding with a dreamy distance in his eyes, as if he were already picturing our victory. “I think we can manage that.” He turned to Ary. “Does that sound like a productive plan to you?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Let’s see how far it gets us.”

  If this plan didn’t get us anywhere, she’d use that as one more fact to push the League toward her own approach. This time, she might budge them.

  I’d better do everything I could to make it work.

  We spent a while discussing logistics for the rally, and then people split off into their own groups to work out details or to drift out the door. Noemi snagged my elbow as I moved away from the “stage.”

  “Come here,” she said.

  We crossed the hall to a smaller meeting room on the other side. Noemi shut the door. Her hand was trembling as she raised it between us.

  “What’s going on?” I said. “Is something wrong? Did Ary get on your case about associating with me, or—”

  “Just watch,” she said, in a voice so urgent I clamped my mouth shut at once. She unfurled her fingers, her hand palm up. Then she sang in a soft, thin voice a lyric about beaming sunlight.

  A glow flickered into being over her palm. It was no larger than a quarter and hazy but undeniably there. My jaw dropped.

  The glow disappeared, and Noemi clenched her fingers. She looked at me, her eyes shining. There appeared to be an equal mix of apprehension and excitement in her expression.

  My voice tumbled out of my mouth. “How the— You are Dull, aren’t you? You got your evaluation when you were born?” Everyone who’d been born since the Unveiling had been assessed before leaving the hospital or during their first doctor’s visit. If Noemi had any magical potential at all, it should have been identified.

  She clearly had that potential—I’d seen the evidence right in front of me—but she was also nodding. “I’ve even seen the certificate. Believe me, I checked it carefully. There was a while when I was in elementary school when I really hoped my parents had lied to me, that I was secretly a mage underneath. I guess I never totally gave up hope that there was a chance.”

  She bit her lip. “I wasn’t just using those books you lent me from an academic perspective. I’ve been trying out the exercises. After the first week, I started to see tiny effects, but I wasn’t sure if I was just imagining it—wishful thinking or whatever. Then last night I managed to do that.” She wiggled her fingers. “It seemed pretty definitive.”

  “I’ll say.” My head was still reeling. I set my hand against the wall for balance.

  The mage who’d tested her could have made a mistake. The paperwork could have been filed wrong somewhere along the way.

  Even as I thought of those possibilities, they didn’t ring true. Most mages showed their potential outwardly when they were kids without really trying. At least, most of the mages the Confed counted did…

  “Do you have a couple of friends here who are Dull that you trust?” I asked. “I think—I think we need an experiment.”

  When the phone rang, I knew it was Rocío before I answered. It was usually Wednesday afternoons that she called—and since my best friend had also been carted off overseas and the rest of my friends had gotten busy with college life, my phone didn’t ring a whole lot in general these days.

  “Hey,” I said, and her simple “Hey” in return was a balm on my nerves. She was still all right. Whatever catastrophe she’d been concerned about hadn’t happened—yet.

  Perhaps the revelation I was about to share would give her some kind of edge in avoiding it altogether.

  I cleared my throat and spoke the words I hadn’t imagined needing so soon. “You know, I’ve been thinking about the dragon you conjured on the Day of Letters.”

  “Have you?” Rocío said, with a slight shift in her inflection. “Hold on a second.” There was a rustling as she must have glanced around. A few rhythmic lines in Spanish spilled out with her breath. “Okay, we should be fine now. What’s going on?”

  “I found out something that could completely overturn the Confed.” I paced from one end of my bedroom to the other. “One of the Dull girls in the group I’ve been working with—I lent her some of my books with exercises for improving one’s magical talent… and it turns out she has one. They labeled her nonmagical, but she can cast, Rocío. Just a little, and it took her a while to work up to anything notice-worthy, but— I tried guiding a couple of her friends through it, and both of them were able to get a tiny effect after some coaching. It can’t be just a mistake.”

  Rocío let out a shaky laugh. “I think we’ve been coming toward the same place from two different angles. Desmond and I found this file— I can check. What are their full names, the three of them?”

  When I told her, she gave me a breathless, “I’ll be back in a minute,” and the phone went dead in my hand. I stared at it.

  A file? Were there records of this happening with other Dulls?

  It was closer to fifteen minutes before the phone rang again. “Sorry,” Rocío said, breathless. “But I found them. Noemi’s a three. Darcy is a seven, and Olivia is an eight.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Three what?”

  “I don’t know exactly. But there’s a database that looks like it covers every baby born to a Dull or new-magic family. I’m in there, and Prisha, and Desmond. You’re not. And we’ve all got a number. Everyone we’ve checked who was named a mage scored at least a ten. Everyone who’s a Dull is lower.”

  A jolt of understanding raced through me. “You think it’s a rating of potential. Noemi’s only a three, so that would explain why it took her a long time to produce any definite effects. Her friends harmonized with the magic faster.”

  “That sounds like the best explanation,” Rocío said. “I wasn’t sure. It’s not like there’s any way for us to test any theories here. But knowing what you saw…”

  She trailed off as if she didn’t quite know how to say the words. I said them for her.

  “The Confed’s leaders have been lying about everything, all along. There aren’t mages and Dulls. Someone came up with a cut-off point. A level below which they could be sure nothing magical would show up unless someone experienced took the person through the ropes, I suppose. And when was that likely to happen, the way we guard our texts and stick to our own?”

  “Yeah. But that means… if even someone who’s marked as a three could eventually cast a little… Pretty much anyone could work with the magic.”

  We were both silent for a moment as that idea sank in. “How could they have hidden this for so long?” I said. “All those mages doing the tests—wouldn’t someone have let it slip?”

  “It’s not mages doing the tests,” Rocío said. “At least, not most of the ti
me, I don’t think. There aren’t enough—officially—to have a mage in every hospital. I saw one of my cousins get her test. It was just a regular nurse on staff who did it, with a little tool she held up to his eye and his ear. She said the reading was sent off to the Confederation for analysis, and my aunt got the letter saying he wasn’t magical a week later.”

  “Hardly anyone might know what the actual data shows, then,” I said.

  “I bet they’d rather reveal the truth about the Exam than this.” A fraught note rang through Rocío’s voice. “My phone time is almost up. I wish we could— Thank you for telling me right away. I think there’s something I can do, knowing this, right now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Rocío

  “Are you sure this’ll make a big enough difference?” Leonie asked as the five of us hurried down the base’s hallway to the dorm rooms. A janitor had come through recently, and the saccharine-sweet smell made me feel like I was back in the basement.

  If what we were about to do worked the way I hoped, I wouldn’t be down there ever again. I wouldn’t be here ever again.

  “It changes everything,” I said, keeping my voice low. “A guy in my tutorial class was only listed as a ten in the database. For all we know, the “Dull” president is a nine. Do you really think that smidge should be a reason to cut someone off from the magic? Every supposedly Dull person is closer to that ten than the ten is to me or any of you.”

  Prisha shuddered. “The last thing I want to think about is my whole family learning to cast.”

  “They’d probably struggle with it,” I pointed out. “It wouldn’t come easy, and they wouldn’t be able to cast very effectively. But even a small talent… This assault the officials are planning, if it hurts the magic, it hurts everyone. All those people who’ve never cast might never get the chance to. That information has to make the Dull government listen.”