Crime of Magic

by Linsey Hall

  “Most times, it’s like a very faint light within me, but it feels miles away.”

  “All right. I’ll try to help it glow brighter.”

  “You can feel my magic?”

  “Some of it. One of my gifts is empathy. It’s not my strongest power, but I can sense emotion and other people’s magic. It’ll help.”

  I swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. “All right. Let’s do this thing.”

  I didn’t really have a choice, after all. My haywire magic was starting to cause some serious problems. I still hadn’t even faced the music for blowing Lavender off her feet and knocking her out.

  Lachlan laid his hands on my shoulders, gripping very gently. His touch was warm and strong. A shiver raced through me, but I tried to suppress it. I dragged my attention away from the heat of his palms and closed my eyes, unable to look up at him standing so close. I didn’t trust myself not to lean up and kiss him. His scent twined around me, the smell of an evergreen forest combined with his skin making me sway slightly.

  I shook myself, trying to concentrate on the magic within me.

  “Which gift are you reaching for?” His voice was slightly rough, as if he, too, were affected by our closeness.

  “The weird light that repelled the sickness wraiths and stopped the flowers from attacking us. I have no idea what it’s called or what it really does, but it seems easier than the prophecy power.”

  “Sounds like it’s related to life,” he said. “If it drove back sickness and controlled plants.”

  “Maybe.” I drew in a steady breath and focused on the magic within me. It was like an amorphous cloud, filling me with a sense of completeness. A sense of power.

  But it was unformed. Unorganized.

  “Try to visualize,” Lachlan said. “That can help.”

  I nodded, imagining that a fog filled my body. Within it, the lights of my different powers glowed. They were faint, but I could see them.

  I zeroed in on the pale white light that I was trying to master. It sat low in my belly, waiting to be called to the surface.

  As if he’d sensed me focusing in on it, Lachlan fed his magic into me. His hands burned warm as it flowed through my shoulders and into my body.

  I gasped, stiffening.

  My head swam.

  We felt connected.

  His magic was strong and pure. I could feel the honor that flowed within him, the strength and conviction and goodness. And the heat.

  He wanted me.

  But he’d wrapped that desire up tight, getting a serious grip on it.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tore myself away from the connection with him. I didn’t know if it was supposed to happen when he sent his power into me, but it was dangerous.

  Instead, I reached for my magic, for the light in the bottom of my belly. It glowed brighter. Like a firefly that was really trying. Lachlan’s magic was somehow grabbing onto my magic and feeding it.

  I reached for the light, trying to grasp it with my consciousness. It was a weird, ephemeral action, but I could feel the light beginning to fill me.

  I was doing it!

  The little light that had glowed within my belly became brighter, burning away the fog that filled me and replacing it with a powerful glow that gave me a massive burst of energy.

  It healed the aches and pains that rippled through my muscles, then filled me up with energy.

  Lachlan gasped, a low, ragged sound that made my heart race.

  My eyes popped open.

  His face glowed, bathed in a pale white light.

  It was coming from me.

  “I think you’ve got it.” His voice was husky.

  Suddenly, I remembered how close we were standing. How I felt the desire within him.

  I was barely a foot from him, so near that I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. Dark stubble coated his jaw, giving him a rakish look. The heat in his eyes completed the effect, and I swallowed hard.

  His scent twined around me, intoxicating.

  My heart thundered in my ears, and I swore I could feel every molecule of air in my lungs. I could feel every molecule of me.

  Particularly where his hands touched me.

  My gaze dropped to his lips. So tempting.

  No.

  I couldn’t.

  He was fighting this too. I couldn’t be the one to break.

  I stepped back, severing contact. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

  “How did I do?” I asked.

  Lachlan dragged his gaze away from my lips, as if he, too, was just remembering the restrictions we’d placed on ourselves.

  “Well, I think.” He touched his head, a smile spreading across his face. “My head feels better. I think you have some kind of healing light.”

  “A healing light that I’ve somehow managed to weaponize.” I’d always been sick of having defensive magic in an offensive world, so this was actually pretty cool. “I understand how I used it to drive away the sickness wraiths. Healing is the opposite of what they are, so they couldn’t come near me. But the plants?”

  “In a sense, healing is life. So you somehow used it to freeze them. Controlling their life forms.”

  The hair on my arms stood on end. “That’s intense. If I could learn to do that with people…” I shuddered. “I really don’t want that level of power.”

  “Right now, it’s only manifesting as freezing plants and animals—and only those of your choice, because the Cats of Catastrophe weren’t affected, correct?”

  “True.” I stepped back, needing to get a bit of space. “Let me try again without the help.”

  He nodded. The glow of my light had faded from his face, so I assumed I was starting with a blank slate.

  I closed my eyes and focused inward, calling on the magic within me. There was still the dark fog filling my body, but the white light glowed a little brighter. As if I’d made a pathway toward it with Lachlan’s help, and now it was easier to find. I called upon it, reaching for it.

  Seconds passed, then a minute. But slowly, it began to glow brighter, filling me up.

  Euphoria seemed to fill me this time, as if the light weren’t busy healing my wounds so it was able to give me a shot of pure happiness.

  “Whoa.” I opened my eyes and stumbled backward.

  Lachlan grabbed my arms, keeping me from going down on my butt. The heat of his hands shot through me, and I glanced up at him.

  Light glowed on his face again, and even more heat filled his eyes.

  “Do you feel that?” I asked

  He nodded, his gaze tracing over my face. I couldn’t read what was in his eyes, but I could feel it.

  And it was hot.

  He shook his head as if coming out of a trance, and backed up. “You’ve done well.”

  I cleared my throat, dragging my thoughts away from kissing him. “Thanks. I still have a lot to work on, but I’m starting to feel a bit better about it.”

  “With practice, you’ll learn what your gifts are capable of.” His gaze sharpened on mine. “I think you’re going to be very powerful, Ana Blackwood.”

  I thought of Bree, and the insane power that she was now able to wield. “I think you might be right.”

  The next morning, I woke with a sore back and an aching neck. Rays of sunlight burned my eyes, and I groaned, sitting up off the hard floor. Why the hell was I sleeping on the floor?

  Blearily, I blinked, spotting the three cats napping near the old oven, which was cool now. The whole house was cool.

  The whole house was made of gingerbread.

  Right. That’s why I was sleeping on the floor. Because I had refused to sleep in the witch’s bed. Lachlan had also refused, and he’d bunked down on the other side of the room. It’d taken me a while to fall asleep last night, mostly because of the thoughts of him that raced through my head.

  But he was gone now.

  “Hey, Muffin!”

  The curled up cat meowed loudly, a clear What the heck?!


  “Sorry, pal. Did you see where Lachlan went?”

  I was asleep.

  “I know your ears are good enough to hear him leave even if you’re asleep.”

  He inclined his head. True. He left about thirty minute ago.

  I stood, rubbing my aching neck, and went to the window. There were no devil bunnies out there, thank fates. And the sun had risen, though it was very low in the sky. We couldn’t be more than thirty minutes past sunrise.

  I opened the door, the scent of dew on the grass greeting me. The air was chilly, but fresh, and the rolling green field stretched toward the trees in the distance.

  “Hard to believe this place is full of devil rabbits and murderous pansies,” I muttered.

  Muffin meowed as he passed me, on his way to find a suitable bush, no doubt.

  I stepped off the stoop, but before I could go far, Lachlan appeared around the side of the house.

  He raised the basket in his hand. “I come bearing gifts.”

  “Food?”

  “Food that wasn’t in the witch’s house, which makes it even better.”

  My stomach growled. “Excellent. What did you find?”

  “Strawberries.”

  “Perfect.”

  As the cats chewed on the walls, devouring the gingerbread that was so oddly to their liking, Lachlan and I ate the strawberries and a bit of leftover bread and cheese.

  When we were done, we left the cottage. The cats had eaten so much of the gingerbread base that it leaned slightly to the left.

  “That won’t stand for long,” Lachlan said.

  Bojangles burped, and the frosting on his lips quivered.

  “Well done, cats,” I said. “We all did out part. Now another creepy witch can’t move in.”

  As if to punctuate my words, there was a great crash behind me. I turned. The cottage had collapsed in on itself.

  I dusted my hands off. “Good riddance to bad rubbish, right?”

  The cats meowed.

  We continued heading east, following the rising sun. The forest that we walked through was the most normal-looking one that we’d been in so far, with average height oak trees and a soft underbrush beneath our feet.

  “It’s too easy,” I muttered.

  Lachlan nodded, his wary gaze searching the forest around us. “Aye.”

  We kept walking, our footsteps silent and senses on high alert. Even Bojangles kept the racket down, though it was weird to see him walking like a normal cat rather than bouncing around like a ball.

  When the bushes ahead started rustling, I was almost relieved. Carefully, I drew my sword from the ether, keeping my gaze pinned on the foliage ahead. I poked around inside myself for my magic, making sure it was ready to use if I needed it.

  It was. Sort of.

  When the rabbit burst out of the bushes, I stopped.

  He was about as tall as my waist, with bright white fur and a very fine brocade vest. The top hat on his head bore a decorative feather, and the monocle over his right eye was trained on us. A pocket watch was gripped in his little hand.

  The White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.

  “Are you late?” I asked.

  “Not at the moment, no.” His whiskers twitched as he inspected us. “Who are you? You’re not from around here.”

  His question reminded me of the devil bunnies who devoured outsiders who dared trespass in their forest. I shook my head. “We’re not. But you’re not going to eat us, are you? We met some other rabbits who were obsessed with eating outsiders.”

  He blushed, his face turning pink all the way up to his ears.

  “Do you know the devil bunnies?” I asked.

  He blushed even brighter. Yep. The White Rabbit was embarrassed.

  “You do,” I said.

  He cleared his throat. “I might have had a relationship with a vampire bat at one time, yes. But those children would not listen to reason!”

  Holy fates, the White Rabbit was responsible for the devil bunnies because he’d hooked up with a vampire bat. I suppressed a laugh and shot a glance at Lachlan. His jaw was tight, as if he were about to burst out in a guffaw. Thank fates he held it in. It would definitely not go over well. The rabbit was far too uptight to appreciate us laughing at him.

  Then the Cats of Catastrophe blew it. They started to laugh, a strange purring-meowing noise I’d never heard before. Muffin was on his back, skinny legs in the air.

  The White Rabbit straightened, adjusting his monocle. “I hardly see what’s so funny!”

  Then he had no sense of humor. “I apologize for them. Terrible manners. Raised in a barn.”

  Princess Snowflake III hissed at me, and I was certain I’d pay for that remark later.

  The White Rabbit glared, then swung his pocket watch around. It twirled in the air, magic radiating from it in white arcs of light. Two doors appeared behind the rabbit, one red and one blue. Both were large enough for Lachlan and me.

  “You must select one to pass,” the rabbit said.

  “Where did this come from?” I asked.

  His gaze darted to the cats, who were now sitting upright and panting. “It’s the usual.”

  Somehow, I doubted that. The rabbit did not like being laughed at.

  “What’s behind either door?” Lachlan asked.

  “I’m not telling you.” The rabbit was aghast.

  “Seemed like it was worth asking.”

  Flames burst up on either side of the doors, making it impossible to go around.

  Perfect.

  8

  “Now pick a door!” The rabbit pointed.

  I frowned. I really didn’t want to go through the rabbit’s doors. But I also didn’t want to go through flame. I looked at Lachlan. “Any ideas?”

  “None. They look the same. I’m partial to red, but that’s a shite reason to go through a door.”

  “It is.” I studied the doors. “Give me a moment.”

  I called on my magic, this time trying to access the strange premonition gift. It lay dormant within me, somewhere deep in my psyche. I closed my eyes, trying out Lachlan’s trick of visualizing what I wanted. Why I wanted it.

  Images of the Protectorate flashed in front of my eyes. Of becoming a full member and knowing I had a home where I was accepted. Where I was with my sisters. Of them being happy there. Because if I didn’t make it in, they would leave with me. I didn’t want to screw things up for them.

  In my chest, the magic flared to life. It glowed with a blue light—or at least, I imagined it did—and made my mind feel clear and clean. Organized. Like a bunch of elves had come in and cleaned up all the shelves where I stored information, and I just had to ask my question and I would get an answer.

  Which door do I choose?

  Nothing.

  I asked again. And again. Each time, trying to hold on to the light of knowledge that filled my mind.

  Finally, there was an answer.

  None.

  The magic faded. I opened my eyes. “We’re not going through either door.”

  “W-what?” the rabbit stuttered, stomping one of his big feet. “But that’s…that’s….”

  “A good idea?” I walked toward the flaming wall to the left of the red door. “I know.”

  The cats trotted along next to me. I stopped in front of the flaming wall. Lachlan stopped at my side.

  I looked up at him and grinned. “Trust me?”

  He nodded. “Aye.”

  “Good.” I held my hand up to the flame. Yep. As I’d expected, it wasn’t hot. I stepped through, leaving the angry white rabbit behind. He was a wimp, though, if the story was correct. He wouldn’t follow.

  Lachlan did, of course. And so did the cats. I gave the wall of fire one last look, then started through the forest, continuing east.

  “You used your gift of premonition?” he asked.

  “I did. Using what you taught me. But I don’t think it’s premonition, exactly. It’s almost like I know the answers I’m se
eking. They come from within me, somewhere in my mind. Like I was born knowing. I just need to access it.”

  “You know everything in the world, then.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think it’s quite like that. But somehow I’m able to pull out some answers. Some kind of seer’s gift, like my mother’s?”

  “Well, it’s useful. I didn’t want to end up wherever he was sending us.”

  “His house, I think. In the story, he mistook Alice for his housemaid.”

  “I don’t think I’d make a good housemaid.”

  I chuckled. “I don’t think so either.”

  We kept walking, cutting through the forest at a quick pace. I couldn’t help but think back to how I’d managed to use my magic this time, calling upon it and actually having it obey me. Clearly there was something to Lachlan’s technique.

  I was getting better.

  With practice, I might just get the hang of it.

  “Any idea how far we need to go?” I asked.

  “It’s less than two days walk to the beanstalk. Then, we’re almost there.”

  I stopped dead and looked at him. “Beanstalk?”

  “We have to climb.” He looked slightly guilty.

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “Because you’re afraid of heights.” He shrugged. “Sorry. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “To save me from worry.”

  “That was the idea. But I think we’re close, now. There’s not much worry-free time left.”

  Just the idea of climbing the mythical beanstalk up into the air made me break out in a cold sweat, so actually, I didn’t mind that he’d hidden it from me. But it was a bad precedent.

  I frowned. “Don’t do it again. I appreciate it, but I can handle it.”

  He nodded. “Aye. Of that, I have no doubt.”

  Ten minutes later, a figure appeared between the trees. It wore a long floral dress and a bonnet decorated with flowers. But the head that peeped out from underneath the bonnet was definitely no one’s grandma.

  “The big bad wolf.” He walked upright, but was otherwise wolf shaped. I looked around for Red Riding Hood.

  Muffin arched his back, hissing.