The grinding persists as one ring at a time, the stones shift into a new pattern. The runes that were once jagged and broken, suddenly take on new shapes. Even with the temporary Sight afforded to me by the glasses, I still can’t tell what it says.
But I think I understand what it means.
2
Octavia
Or at least if not exactly what it means, then what it means I am not. I am not going to be a normal mage.
There is no moment of applause, no smiling photograph with the teacher of my newly awakened magical affinity. Instead, the principal and the three teachers hurry me into an antechamber beyond and shut the door behind them before I can fully process what is going on.
“So, what are we going to do with you?”
I jump. Literally.
A boy wearing a worn leather jacket and a mop of unruly ruddy-colored hair steps out from behind the door as he speaks.
“Who are you?” I ask, still breathless from...whatever it is that just happened. I spot Wednesday take a step out of a doorway and attempt a smile at me, but it falters as the red-haired boy steps between us.
“I’m your paired, that’s what.” He raises his wrist. Branded into the tender there is the glowing symbol of the Ritual artifact; the Spindle. He looks down at the symbol with mild interest. “Lit up like crazy the moment before you stepped through those doors. Not going to lie, you are not at all what I expected.”
I want to tell him exactly where he could shove those expectations, but I’m interrupted.
“There has been a mistake,” the principal says. “Octavia. Follow me to my office. And Draven, I’d like a word with you later...about your activities last night.”
Draven looks over me one last time. The way his eyes linger on my body makes me shiver—and I would be lying to myself if I say I don’t kind of like it. Aside from the fact he fits the Ritual Mage stereotype in that dark and brooding way, he is actually pretty good-looking. Who am I kidding. Really, really good-looking.
“In trouble already? Maybe we are a better fit than I thought,” Draven says before looking over my shoulder at the principal. “And if by activities you mean the ritual I practiced in the common room...then I’ll save you the trouble. The rat was already dying when I found her.”
His eyes linger on me another moment, but he doesn’t wait around to find out what happens. Wednesday will have to wait to find out, too. She watches as I am dragged upstairs to the principal’s office. I’m shoved inside without ceremony before the door is shut behind me. There is nothing to do but wait.
In the meantime, I’m having trouble seeing properly. I take off the borrowed reading glasses, thinking they fogged up somehow in all the excitement—but as soon as I do, I happen to glance up, and I stop before I can put them back on.
I do not recognize the city I look out on.
What had once been an apartment block in construction across from us is now a massive dormitory. The same three symbols of the mages, Ice, Orb, and Spindle, adorn the front entrance.
I hold a lens up to one eye. Sure enough, my vision is now only distorted in the lenses. Now that I have The Sight, they are just another ordinary pair of reading glasses. I stow them in the front pocket of my backpack for safekeeping.
“Octavia.”
I whirl around.
The principal, all three teachers, and another boy I’ve never seen before step into the room. He avoids making eye contact with me as he stomps over to the bookshelves, brushing roughly past me so that my bag is knocked off my shoulder. It lands with the sickening crunch of broken glass, but he doesn’t so much as glance over his shoulder at me, let alone apologize. I can’t tell if he is pretending he doesn’t know what he just did, or if he is genuinely oblivious. Either way, I decide I already dislike him.
“Octavia,” the principal says again, drawing my attention back to him. “Did you do something to skew the initiation ritual?”
I feel an odd, prickling sensation at the backs of my eyes. For a second, I wonder if I am going to zone out again and forget the next couple of minutes, but it passes. “What?” I say, rubbing my eyes as the sensation finishes fading away. “No. Of course not.”
The principal keeps his eyes on me as he eases himself into his seat. The three others, who I am finally able to get a good look at, go to stand behind him. I can tell immediately which affinity each one favors. The first is a dark-haired woman who looks like she is clothed in woven tree branches; Earth Mage. The second is bald and stares at me with saucer-eyes, like he is trying to tell me something without using words; Psychic Mage. The third can barely conceal the dark tattoos springing from the top of his shirt and the ends of his sleeves; Ritual Mage.
The last one pulls up his sleeves a bit and leans towards me. I can make out some of the tattoos better, and I am pretty sure they are homemade. I shudder at the thought of having to carve into myself for a spell.
“You’ve no idea what this means, do you?” he says. I am more than a little confused by the way he says it. Why would I know what it means? Wednesday never mentioned anything like this happening before.
If one of them could get around to telling me what this all means, I’d appreciate it a lot. It isn’t until I make out the shocked looks on their faces that I realize I must have spoken my thoughts aloud.
Rather than back down, I try to cross my arms in front of my chest and look less mortified than I feel.
Rather than wait for one of the teachers to answer, the boy does instead.
“The magic is divided into separate affinities to protect mages,” he says. He doesn’t turn away from where he is pulling a book from one of the shelves on the wall. “It makes magic predicable, or at least as predictable as magic can be.”
“I know that,” I say, though I’d only been partly listening when Wednesday told me. She’d tried to tell me so much over the summer that at a certain point it had all just kind of mushed together. I wrack my brain for what else she tried to tell me about the affinity rituals. “The ritual doesn’t actually choose mages, it just tells you which affinity you had all along.”
“It is more than that,” the Psychic teacher adds. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, mimicking my own posture. His eyes still bore into me as before, but he looks a little less stern. The thought crosses my mind that he may be using his powers on me. I wonder for a second if Psychics can read thoughts. I run a series of quick scenarios through my head that involve me pushing him through the window. I take it as a hopeful sign when he doesn’t so much as blink.
“The affinity ritual binds you to another mage with your same affinity,” the Earth teacher says. I can tell from the way she runs her fingers through the roots of her hair as she says it that she hasn’t told me everything yet.
“But... I don’t have one?”
I remember how the entire circle glowed; each of the artifacts lit with a supernatural blue light.
“Quite the opposite,” the boy interrupts again. He tucks the book he was looking through under one arm and finally turns to face me. I can’t help but notice that he’s absolutely gorgeous. Full, round lips. Jet black hair swept up out of his face. Large, almond eyes the softest shade of brown I’ve ever seen. God. Is there some rule that all mage men are incredibly attractive, or are my hormones as messed up as my magic? “You might be the first mage ever to get all three affinities...”
“I am?”
He ignores me.
“But you aren’t the first to ever get more than one. I, for instance, have two.”
I am momentarily distracted from thinking about what he said before. “Which ones?” I ask.
“None of your business,” he snaps. I am bewildered by the harsh tone of his voice. I have to stop myself from taking a step back. I guess my first impression of him wasn’t wrong. He is an ass.
“Actually,” The principal sighs. “It is Octavia’s business. You are the only living mages that share the same affliction.”
I personally thin
k affliction is a bit of a harsh word, but this time I make sure not to blurt that out aloud as well. Instead, I gather my thoughts about what the two of them just said.
“So, if I have three affinities, then what does this mean?” I hold out my arms, showing them all four of the brands.
Everyone around me leans in closer to see. I can tell from the looks on their faces that they are just as surprised as I am at the fourth symbol on my arm, though they do their best to quickly conceal it.
The principal turn to the boy for answers. “Flynn?”
The boy, Flynn, takes my hand and turns it over in his as he tries to get a better look at the brand. “I’ve never seen this before. Maybe the three affinities, when combined, actually creates a new kind of magic.”
“That’s impossible.” It is the principal who speaks.
“But is it?” The Psychic teacher leans in closer for another look. One of his hands reaches towards the unusual brand on my arm, but I draw back. I can see this situation heading down the wrong path very, very quickly. I don’t want to become some kind of patient to be experimented on.
Fortunately, it seems I am not the only one to see the greedy glint that appears in the Psychic teacher’s eye. The principal clears his throat, and everyone straightens up again. “The idea that Octavia somehow got a special, fourth, magical affinity is absurd. It is clear from the brand itself that it is some kind of mistake. It isn’t even fully formed.”
I look back down at the brand in question, and I kind of have to agree with him. It does look like a mess. More of cattle-brand gone wrong then a mark of some special fourth magical power.
“Only time will tell,” Flynn says, clearly not ready to completely dismiss the idea. “But right now, there are more immediate problems.”
With that, he tugs up the sleeve of his shirt. A glowing brand has appeared on his wrist. He tugs up the other, a second brand. Both of them glow bright. Earth and Psychic. “I always had a suspicion this might happen. Octavia’s arrival has only confirmed it.”
I look down at my own wrists.
For now, only one of my brands glows. It is the fourth one, the one made of indistinguishable crisscrossing lines.
I look up at Flynn.
“You still haven’t told me what all these really mean.”
“I think what Flynn is trying to say, and correct me if I am wrong,” the principal says, “Is that you’ve been paired up with more than one mage.”
“Three or…” Flynn looks down at the brands once more. “Even four. And it seems I am, unfortunately, one of them.”
3
Cedric
I overhear the last snippet of conversation as I let myself into the room.
“A sentiment I am sure my father shares.” I glance over at the girl, Octavia Hadley, and then grin at my father. I fold up the cuff of my right sleeve. The glowing brand of my Psychic affinity brightens as I step to stand beside her. “As it seems my father’s dreams of me marrying into a good family are dashed.”
I realize too late that what I just said is as much an insult to her as it is to my father. After all, the girl is not only a perfect excuse to spoil my father’s carefully orchestrated plans for me, but as my eyes rove over her soft rosy cheeks, that silver hair, the cupid’s bow of her lips—I’d be a fool to not recognize she’s stunning as well. I have to stop myself from letting my gaze drift further down. Hell, I couldn’t have dreamt up a better plan myself.
“Cedric, we were just discussing Octavia’s unique predicament,” my father says. I wonder if I am the only one who catches that subtle lilt to his tone. He is usually so careful, at least where the school is involved. He’s never let his elitist attitude slip into his teaching methods before. Though, I suppose, there is a first time for everything.
“Predicament?” The voice takes me by surprise. I turn and see Flynn in the corner. He’s shoved his sleeves up to reveal two glowing brands.
Oh, right.
I offer a hand to Octavia, and after a moment’s hesitation she rests hers gently in mine. I turn her wrist over. Two brands; one, a mess of lines I can’t interpret, glows brightly. She turns her other wrist. Two more brands, the Psychic one glowing as well.
“Well, this is a royal—”
“The fact that you are one of the mages Octavia has been paired with will have no effect on my judgment,” my father growls before I can say anything else that might hurt his precious reputation. “Octavia will continue to study as a normal student until we have decided what to do with her. With any luck, this all really is just a mistake and after a couple of lessons it will be plain where her true affinity lies.”
It is Flynn’s turn to speak up. “With all due respect sir, what about the mages Octavia has been paired to? At risk of sounding selfish, shouldn’t we be taken into consideration as well?”
“And you will be. When the time comes,” my father says. Flynn is clearly not satisfied by that answer, but my father stands up and cuts him off before he can continue speaking. I can imagine the sound of his bones creaking as he does. He became a father far too late in life. I’m young enough to be his grandson. Thank god we don’t look anything alike. Well, apart from the eyes. But no one will deny that they look better on me.
“Like I said before, it is all likely a mistake. Octavia, you have nothing to worry about.”
“And if it isn’t a mistake?” I say, carefully this time. I know I must tread lightly here.
“I am almost certain it is.” My father motions for everyone to leave. “For now, Octavia, we will figure out a plan of study for you that will help you figure out what magic you truly are the most gifted at performing.”
This time when I look at her, I can’t stop my eyes from tracing the curves of her body. Hell. She really is something. I step to the side to let her pass. She seems especially anxious to get out of here. I don’t blame her. I hate to imagine what my father has been accusing her of.
The rest of the party starts to file out. I catch a glance at Flynn as he goes. There is something on his mind, but I can’t sense exactly what it is. Odd, he usually isn’t so good at guarding his thoughts. Something about his paired, his other paired, not getting along with him. I can’t ever imagine why.
As soon as I am alone with my father, I turn to him. He doesn’t meet my gaze.
“Mistake?” I say. “The affinity ritual does not make mistakes.”
He slams the book down that he was about to put away. I wish I could say it is a rare display of temper, but the action doesn’t even make me flinch.
“The affinity ritual didn’t work,” he says. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have this problem.”
I give him a second to calm down and return the book that Flynn was reading to the shelf. “It wouldn’t be the first time the ritual, err, deviated from the usual results. The boy is a perfect example.”
“Flynn Wang was a fluke,” he says.
“And now we have another. Once is a coincidence, twice...” I shake my head.
“That was not our ritual, remember that. Flynn transferred over from the Shanghai school. It was their mistake, not ours.”
“But here we are.”
He glares at me. “Whether or not this was a mistake, we can’t have a first year with no history, no family, going around unbound to any one affinity. At some point, she is going to have to choose one. It is safer that way.”
“Choose? I thought you said she would discover, how did you say it, what her true affinity is?”
He shoots me another look and I pause from where I am taking a closer look at the books he put away a moment before.
“I’ve been around long enough to see this sort of thing happen before. Never a mage bound to more than one affinity, but mages that were never bound at all. It never ends well.”
“Then what about the boy, Flynn? Are you going to make him choose too?”
My father makes an exasperated noise. He never was the most patient of parents. “It’s a bit late for that, don’t y
ou think? Shanghai has to answer for him. Besides, two affinities is one thing. But three?”
“What about the fourth?” When my father doesn’t immediately answer, I step closer. “Wait, you’ve really never seen a fourth before, have you? I knew it.”
“I told you,” he says, “There are these rituals for a reason. We can’t have girls like her wielding that kind of power. If she even can.”
“Girls, like her? You mean because she isn’t from a good family?”
“I mean girls who know nothing of our rules and traditions,” he snarls. “She will upset the balance.”
“And would that really be such a bad thing?” I say. I glance up at him. My father’s work maintaining order within the mage world has always been performed under the guise of keeping peace, but I’ve always known there was more to it. No one rises to so much power without a certain amount of ruthlessness. There will always be those happy to see him fail.
He shoots me a look that tells me this conversation is over.
“Just saying...things have to change eventually.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he says. I want to know what he means, but I know that pushing him further will do neither of us any good. There are ways of dealing with my father, but directness is never one of them.
I pause for a second and pluck at the spine of one of the books. I’ll need to track Flynn down one of these days and ask why he switched out one of my father’s books. My father might not have noticed, but I do. Maybe it’s because I’m not so tied up in trying to keep things the same that I am still able to see what is clearly before me. Unlike my father, I have not yet begun to lose my mind.
But my thoughts wander unbidden back to Octavia, and I think my mind might be in danger yet.
Absorb: Book One of the Forgotten Affinities Series Page 2