Absorb: Book One of the Forgotten Affinities Series

by Analeigh Ford

  I drop my arm to my side. Instead of reaching for the water, I reach inside my mind. When I imagine the knob turning to shut off, it does. The water stops so suddenly that I can hear the pipes complaining inside the wall.

  Yes, I tell myself. Perhaps Octavia will be the best kind of distraction after all.

  10

  Octavia

  I barely have time to throw on the only other set of clothes I brought with me, an oversized sweater and a pair of gray leggings, before I tumble out of the elevator on the first floor. I don’t see Wednesday or anyone else down here, so I dash across the street between several honking cars. As soon as I push open the front doors and duck between the statues, there she is—standing there, arms crossed, waiting for me.

  “You’ve already missed the beginning of the first lesson,” she hisses at me. She grabs my arm and drags me down the closest corridor.

  “What? I thought they didn’t start until tomorrow.”

  “For everyone else, yes,” Wednesday says. She tugs me up a flight of stairs and down another hallway. How big is this place?

  We come to a halt in front of a large pair of double doors and she pushes one open as quietly as possible. It is a large, college-style classroom with six rows of curved seating. We slip into the back beside Kendall, who is significantly less naked today than he was last night.

  Wednesday sits between us, completely oblivious to the fact that the feel of his phantom body pressed up against mine makes me grow warm just at the thought. “What did we miss?” she whispers.

  Kendall nods up front, but he doesn’t say anything. The three teachers that I met yesterday in the principal’s office are on stage. The one I decided is the Psychic, is speaking.

  “Magic often does not so much simplify a mage’s life, but instead makes it more complex. For us Psychic Mages that is particularly true. But we will get into more detail about that in our Psychic lessons. For now...” he pulls a small wooden object from his desk. “We will talk about the similarities in all three types of magic casting.”

  He sets the object on the top of the podium in front of him so we can all take a look. It looks almost like a little Voodoo doll. Upon closer inspection, meaning after squinting at it so hard that the edges of my vision blur, I realize it is a little Voodoo doll.

  “We are all connected to this doll in a unique way. Earth Mages, could you raise your hands for me?”

  I raise mine alongside Wednesday and Kendall.

  He goes on to describe how Earth Mages are connected to the doll through the tangible matter it is made up of. They are manipulators of the physical world. My hand remains in the air as he moves on the Psychic Mages, and then again to Ritual. Each time, it sinks a little lower.

  I try to pay attention to what he says—about how Psychics manipulate through thought alone, and how Ritual Mages dabble in a little of both during their practices, but I keep noticing other students glancing my way.

  I’d hoped that since I was the last student to do the ritual, maybe they wouldn’t all have heard about me. Not yet. But from the way they keep whispering and cutting their eyes over to me each time, I know that was wishful thinking.

  Well, once they realize how far behind I am in the ways of magic, they’ll forget about me. Then I’ll be plain old Octavia Hadley, daughter of non-magical parents, mediocre mage. Though, after the professor instructs us to try to use whatever knowledge we have of magic to manipulate the object in front of him, I’m guessing mediocre might even be a stretch.

  But it seems I am not alone. No matter how long the doll sits up on the stage, an entire class of us staring at it intently trying to get it to do something—anything—nothing happens. Even Wednesday and Kendall whose parents instructed them in magic as much as is possible before the initiation ritual, can’t get the doll to budge.

  That little part of me that was secretly sure I would be able to do it, even when no one else could, is disappointed. I guess it would have helped if I had even the faintest idea how to do magic. I just…kind of stared at it and hoped it would move.

  After a couple long seconds more of nothing happening, the teacher puts his hand up.

  “Enough.” As soon as he says it, the doll lifts itself up like a person, slowly at first, until it stands on its feet. The Ritual teacher lifts his hands up like a marionette, and the Voodoo doll responds.

  Today he steps forward with his tattooed forearms on display today and his eyes darkened with the remnants of a sleepless night. He looks like the kind of person you don’t want to cross paths with.

  “Your folly begins with this; how many of you Earth Mages thought this was made of wood?”

  I tentatively raise my hand along with everyone else.

  Wednesday leans in to whisper to me. “Earth Mages have to touch the substance they are trying to control,” she says. Her fingers drum on the desk in front of her. “So, touching wood will allow you to control wood. I should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.”

  I already know that, but I don’t want to piss her off now that she is behaving civilly to me again.

  “As for Psychic Mages, you will quickly discover that the doll has a will of its own, and as such, cannot be moved telepathically.”

  Someone starts to raise their hand in the front row, but the Ritual teacher scowls at him and he quickly puts his hand down. I am glad to see I’m not the only one completely terrified of him.

  “Of course, our resident Ritual mages were unable to perform any kind of spell, but even if they did, it is very unlikely any of you would be powerful enough to so much as make it budge. An object or person controlled through a ritual like Voodoo takes on the strength of the one casting the spell,” he says. “Unless you are able to overpower me, you would not be able to control the doll through Psychic or Ritual means.”

  The Earth teacher steps forward and the doll freezes. It hesitates for a second before slowly beginning to unravel. Even from the back of the classroom I can see it unspooling into tiny metal wires. They continue to twitch and move along the top of the desk as if they are struggling to regain their original shape.

  She clears her throat. “This is why it is important for you to master each of your skills,” she says, “and why a thorough study and understanding of the world around you is impertinent to your success as a magic caster.”

  All that is left of the doll is a tangle of lifeless metal wires on the podium. “Knowledge is power, remember that when it comes to honing your affinities.”

  Before we leave, the teachers encourage us to find our matched partners if we have them. Kendall and I briefly lock eyes, and then quickly look away. Wednesday just stares down at her desk and tucks her arms further under the table.

  “Tomorrow we begin practice in earnest,” the Earth teacher continues, “so I recommend you get on good terms with your partner.”

  The Earth teacher’s words remind me of what Draven told me just this morning. I still can’t imagine how I am supposed to keep from ever being at odds with my paired when I have four of them. What happens if I am fighting with one of them? Does that mean I can’t cast any kind of magic, or just the one tied to the affinity we share?

  In the middle of my personal dilemma, I feel my stomach grumbling loudly a second before I hear it. Wednesday hears it too, and for the first time all day she actually almost smiles.

  “Don’t worry Octavia, there is a luncheon in the ballroom.”

  Now that I know I’m getting fed, I can get around to the second most important thing on my mind. “When she talked about dangerous consequences, what exactly did she mean?” I wasn’t able to get a straight answer from Draven this morning. I’m not sure I will ever get any kind of straight answer out of him.

  “It means that when you aren’t getting along with the person you are paired up with, your magic doesn’t work right. It can even misfire, or do the opposite of what you are trying to make it do. It’s why our parents never did any magic if they were in the middle of a fight.” />
  I’m surprised to discover Kendall has come to walk beside me. Our fingers graze momentarily as we stop in the doorway to surveil the banquet hall. I’m disappointed to discover there isn’t magically appearing food on the tables today, just an ordinary-looking buffet line that is already starting to get a long queue. We line up along with everyone else, but my mind is distracted by Kendall’s touch and Wednesday’s words.

  If my magic is going to get messed up if I am not getting along with one of the boy’s I’ve been paired up with, I’m going to be in trouble. The Psychic teacher’s words couldn’t be truer. Magic has already begun to make my life far more complicated.

  We grab heaping platefuls of food only for me to find myself pushing most of it around my plate. I still have no idea whether or not I can even cast all three kinds of magic, but I already don’t like the idea of having to possibly give some of it up.

  I feel a tingle race up my spine again. I have magic. I don’t know how to use it, or what that means for my future—but it doesn’t matter. I want it more than anything. I glance over at Wednesday without any pairing, and then over at Kendall with only one kind of magic. He is the only one among us who is normal. Who would be normal if it wasn’t for the girl he got paired up with, me.

  I know a million teens that would kill to be in my situation. Not just one kind of magic, but three...or four, I don’t know yet. It’s pretty amazing.

  The principal mentioned it might be a mistake, and that I would discover my true affinity with time. But what if it isn’t a mistake? What if I don’t want it to be?

  And even if one of my magic affinities is stronger, there is more at stake now than just the magic itself. I look up and scan the crowd again until I catch glimpses of three other familiar faces. Earth, Psychic, Ritual and...something else. Each power as unique as the boy paired with it.

  If it comes down to it, how am I supposed to choose? I know it is selfish...but what if I don’t want to?

  11

  Octavia

  But for now, magic. All these problems will be solved if I find out the affinity ritual and the pairings are all a mistake after all.

  I am given a packet of papers and a stack of textbooks by someone who turns out to be the school’s secretary on the way out. Normal students take their individual affinity classes three times a week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The other days of the week are spent in magic theory with the rest of the first year students. For me, I only get one day a week with each, but am supposed to make up the slack in my spare time.

  I groan when I flip back the cover and see pages upon pages of the work I am going to have to make up—and it is only for the first week.

  “What is it?” Wednesday says, looking up from where she is halfheartedly playing foosball with Camilla, the other Earth Mage we sat with the other night.

  We are hanging out in the common room with many of the other first year students. Most of them give us a wide berth, and those few that look curious enough to come try to talk to me I discourage by sinking lower into my leather armchair.

  I remember her own problems and try to stuff the paper in between me and the seat. “Nothing,” I say.

  But she isn’t having any of it. She snatches it away and flattens it out on the edge of the game table. “Sheesh,” she says, agreeing with me for what seems like the first time in ages. “This is a lot.”

  “Right? Having all the affinities isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “But the other thing...” the girl at the table starts. As soon as I look over at her she blushes. “Don’t get me wrong, I know my time is coming eventually, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a little jealous. Like, leave some men for the rest of us.” Her nervous laughter hangs in awkward, unrequited silence.

  Wednesday pulls down her sleeves a little further at the mention of my pairings.

  “Well,” I say, trying to deflect attention again. “That’s complicated too.” I wave a hand at the packet of papers that basically lays out my inevitable doom for the next semester. “Is it just me, or are they purposefully trying to make this impossible?”

  “Hmm.” Wednesday’s brows knit together. “I don’t think they’d do that. Not on purpose.”

  The girl at the table snorts. I’m kind of annoyed that she is still here, because to me this seems like a private conversation. That’s what I get for sitting next to her in the first place last night. “You’d be surprised the lengths they’ll go to keep things from changing around here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Wednesday shoves the papers back into my hands. “Don’t encourage it.”

  Now that it is suddenly getting interesting, it is Wednesday who looks like she wants out of the conversation.

  “What?” I say again, this time craning my neck around my friend to see what Camilla has to say.

  “I mean, hiding magic from the public takes a lot of work,” she says. “Some mages think it would be better if it wasn’t a secret at all.”

  I glance between her and Wednesday. My best friend looks at Camilla like she is suddenly wearing a tinfoil hat. “Well, some things are a way for a reason,” Wednesday says. She grabs her backpack off the table and grabs my wrist to pull me toward the door. “We’ve got that thing we said we were going to do,” she says, fumbling over her words.

  I glance once over my shoulder at Camilla. I don’t understand why Wednesday is so anxious to get away from her all of a sudden. I think what she is saying is interesting. I guess I had never considered the possibility that hiding magic from the public might not actually be a good thing.

  “What was that all about?” I say as soon as the elevator rises out of earshot. “If we keep running away from her like that she’s going to think we hate her.”

  “It’s a stupid idea, telling everyone about magic,” Wednesday says. “But there is a crazy group of mages who believe it. There’s not a lot of them, but they certainly let you know who they are.”

  “Like...the CrossFit of magicians?”

  “If CrossFit could destroy the balance of the world as we know it, then...yeah.”

  Once we get to the top of the stairs, I realize just how much I haven’t gotten to tell her about the last couple of days. We haven’t exactly had much time to the two of us. Between the initiation and all the boys, Draven’s ritual, Cedric’s comment about my parents, his apparent relationship with one of the other girls...there should be so much I’m gushing to tell her.

  But then I see how she keeps nervously tugging at the end of her sleeves, hiding the brand that is not there, and I can’t bring myself to. She’s got enough of her problems to deal with. So instead I camp out in her bedroom binge-watching TV until the last slices of pizza we order go cold.

  It isn’t until I think Wednesday has officially passed out that I try to sneak over to my own room. It would be nice to actually sleep properly in a bed tonight. Her voice catches me as I go.

  “Hey, Octavia?”

  I pause and look back. I can barely make out her face in the pale blue light of her laptop. Her eyes are still closed as she speaks. “Make sure not to do anything stupid, okay. I worry about you.”

  “I know,” I say, “And I won’t.”

  I shut the door behind me before she can tell that I am lying. I don’t know that I won’t do anything stupid. So far, it seems like the only thing I know how to do.

  At least I am determined not to be late to class again tomorrow. With everything that has been going on, I keep getting the same nervous jitters I had when I first found out I had magical powers, and then again when I found out I was going to be going to mage school. By the time I flop onto my own bed, I am barely able to sleep from the excitement of it all.

  I remember the book under the mattress and I wedge it out to give it a look. There is definitely some odd, and I am guessing very ancient, language on the cover. I peel it back and flip briefly through the first hundred pages or so. The letters are so old and faint, I am not sure I will be abl
e to read it if I try.

  But I should try. Some stranger went through all this trouble to leave it in my room like a kind of creepy reverse poltergeist. I stow it in the bottom of my backpack and promise myself I will ask Wednesday to look at it with me tomorrow. The thought makes my stomach flutters.

  I’m a mage. And tomorrow I am going to learn how to do magic.

  My package still hasn’t arrived from my parents yet, so I put on the same clothes as yesterday and meet Wednesday at the elevator first thing in the morning. I get there just in time to squeeze in with her and two other girls. Since no one here today is roughly the size of Hercules, we have no trouble fitting all four of us.

  At least Wednesday looks like she actually slept. I can’t get that pesky cowlick at the back of my head to lay flat no matter how many times I try to squish it down. I eventually give up and am just glad that there is free coffee and donuts waiting for us in the lobby.

  The Earth Mage class is held in the same room as yesterday. I think I am finally starting to get a feel for the layout of the main building, because I only would have taken two wrong turns on my way to get there had I been on my own. Damn dyslexia.

  Wednesday and I look for Kendall when we arrive, but we don’t see him right away. She pulls out her phone and starts texting furiously, doubtless giving him the same lecture she gave me this morning through my bedroom door about making it to my first official class on time. While she’s doing this, I catch Flynn’s eye in the front row. He looks like he’s been here for quite some time, the notebook in front of him already scrawled with tightly compacted letters.

  As soon as I catch him looking, he glances back down as if I don’t exist. I do not understand this boy.

  I sit down beside Wednesday in the back and dredge out a notebook of my own. The teacher comes out and starts a speech about the underrated power of the Earth Mage and so on until even I can’t pretend to be that interested. My gaze wanders towards the back of Flynn’s head, and back to the memory of the incident the day before. The memory would be a whole lot sexier if he wasn’t such an ass all the time.