Absorb: Book One of the Forgotten Affinities Series

by Analeigh Ford

  “God, I’m sorry,” she says. She covers her face in her hands. “I think, I think I just got shaken too.”

  The thought of some random person trying to steal my backpack is rattling enough. It is even worse now we know it wasn’t so random. And that they have gotten what they wanted.

  Several people pass by us on the sidewalk. Just being in close proximity to strangers makes me tense up.

  Wednesday straitens up and takes a breath. “Did you tell anyone else about the book?”

  “No one but you!” I say, but then pause. “Actually, I think I mentioned something about it to Draven.”

  “Draven? That one is the...?”

  “Ritual Mage.”

  “So you mentioned a magical book on runes to a Ritual Mage and the next day it’s stolen?” she says.

  I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but see her point. Ritual Mages do have a certain...shady look about them. But even still, I can’t imagine Draven would do that. He might look tough but that is all an act. I’ve seen how gentle he can be with me. No, gentle might not be the right word. I catch myself before my thoughts get lost in the memory of those brief heat-fueled moments in the coffee shop.

  “Why would he have to steal it? I would have showed it to him if he asked,” I say.

  Wednesday takes another breath. “If you say so. Did you at least get a good look at the guy who did?”

  I can tell she isn’t convinced, but I’m just glad she isn’t pushing it. I close my eyes and try to remember anything distinctive about the person who stole it from me. All I can remember is that he wore a black hoodie, and I never got a good look at his face.

  It isn’t much to go on, but I tell Wednesday anyway. We are about to cross the street to head into the dorms when we are suddenly ambushed. This time, however, it is not by strangers looking to steal from us. Instead, it is by a cluster of angry teachers.

  The Ritual teacher is the one to step forward. His voice is low and harsh. “What have you done?”

  Neither of us has a reply.

  Wednesday and I are marched inside and upstairs to the principal’s office. The entire time Wednesday is shooting me looks, and I try to shoot one back that tells her I have no idea what is going on either—but I’m not sure I am successful.

  This time when they tug the door shut behind me, no one gathers neatly behind the desk. Instead, the principal twists around and slams a tablet down onto his desk. I am surprised the screen doesn’t shatter at the force, and then even more surprised when he hits a button and the screen lights up to reveal a photo of me.

  Well, me partially obscured behind the person taking the selfie. It is the girl who stopped me down in the subway.

  “Woah, wait,” I say, “What is going on? Were you following us or something?”

  “You’re asking us? We want to know what you were thinking getting yourself photographed like that.”

  I sit back on my heels, too confused to feel as stressed out as I probably should. Four sets of eyes are staring angrily back at me, and a fifth set just as confused as mine.

  “There is a reason we did not have your picture taken after the affinity ritual.”

  I guess I just assumed that was because they were just as shocked as I was. Either way, I still don’t see what the big deal is.

  “I didn’t even want—”

  I am interrupted again.

  “And to make matters worse, she captured this.” The principal scrolls down the screen. Apparently, whoever took the selfie with me had been recording a video right as the thief grabbed my backpack and made a run for it.

  At first, I don’t understand how the video is worse. I’m not even in most of it. By the time I’ve caught up to the thief, he’s already tripped over the suitcase and trying to get disentangled from its straps.

  It isn’t until the video plays for the third or fourth time that I see it.

  All those obstacles that kept slowing him down were no accident. The bags, the catching jackets, even the exploding suitcase—they all fly into his path completely unbidden. Almost as if by magic.

  The thing that finally caught him is not the suitcase after all. The moment before he trips, the tile directly under his foot shatters—not enough to fly apart like the sticks this morning did, but enough to make his footing unsure and send him skidding to a halt.

  I look up and into their scowling faces. “But, won’t The Sight make it impossible for normal people to see?” I say.

  “Well first of all, you were practicing magic outside of school grounds,” the principal says. He finally pulls back a chair and sits down in it. Wednesday and I tentatively take a seat opposite him. “That alone is grounds for expulsion.”

  “I didn’t know that, and besides, I didn’t mean to,” I say. “I didn’t even know I was doing magic. It must have been some kind of self-defense.”

  “Regardless, you did. Something this small we wouldn’t usually issue more than a warning,” he says. “But it isn’t so much about the magic itself.”

  I try to stand a little straighter, but my hands are still shaking. Some combination of fear, adrenaline, and anxiety makes them impossible to still.

  He pushes the tablet closer to me across the table. At first when I read the headline it says, “Teen Catches Subway Robbery Live.” Then I read it again because something about it seems off. The second time, the letters appear to waver and readjust themselves until it tells a new story. “Unlicensed Teen Mage Causes Scene in Subway.”

  I open my mouth to say something, but the principal taps the screen again. “Read on.”

  The article goes on to describe me in detail, calling me the mage who “disregarded traditional affinity binding” and instead hosts “no barriers at all” between the different kinds of magic. Whoever wrote it seems to think that I have some sort of superiority complex because of it and made the scene on purpose. As if I asked to be robbed.

  “I don’t see how this is my fault,” I say as I finish the last of the article. “Besides, it says here that I have something to do with what happened during the ritual. You all still believe that had nothing to do with me, right?” I glance between them for confirmation, but I am given none.

  But then the Earth teacher steps forward. I think she has softened towards me some since class this morning. I guess that is something. “It is less about the article itself, and more about what it means.”

  “The entire magical world now knows exactly who you are, what you are, and how you look,” the principal says.

  “And?” I am sure there is something more. There is.

  “And this can potentially pose a problem for you,” the principal says. “There are people who would use you to their advantage. People who would cause you harm just to have access to your power.”

  “But I don’t even have access to all my power. How are they supposed to use me if I can’t do anything yet?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” This time, it is the Psychic teacher who speaks. “I can tell you are distressed. So, obviously, are we. But there are steps we can take to ensure your safety.”

  The principal keeps drumming his fingers on the table. “This only reinforces my personal opinion that the ritual’s results must be in error.”

  The three teachers take a step back and glance in his direction. Not in surprise, I realize, but in preparation for what he is about to say next. Whatever it is has already been decided beforehand.

  “I spoke to the rest of the school board over the weekend. We had hoped one of your affinities would develop ahead of the others naturally, without intervention. But there is no telling how long that could take.”

  “You are an exceptionally powerful mage,” the Earth teacher steps forward. “If you fell into the wrong hands at this...stage...it could be disastrous.”

  My anxiety gets the better of me. “You all keep talking about me like some kind of mage mafia is waiting around the corner to kidnap me.”

  The cool way that the principal respo
nds to me chills me to the core. “There are less than savory organizations in every society. We are not going to allow you to be targeted in this way while we still hold the power to protect you.” I look between all four of them as he continues. “It is tradition for new students to perform a small demonstration of their affinity at the homecoming banquet. In approximately twelve days’ time, we will expect you to present your choice before the school board. The rebinding will be relatively painless.”

  “The...rebinding?”

  “Yes. To only one of your affinities. And one of your paired. We simply cannot allow mages to run around with their powers completely unchecked.”

  I am barely able to find words. I can already feel the magic being stripped from me. “This isn’t fair. Do you even know for sure that this is a mistake? What if I am supposed to have all three affinities?”

  “No one is meant to have more than one affinity.”

  “But what about the runes, the ones that lit up after the initiation ritual?”

  The principal smiles the smallest smug smile, and I hate him more for it. “I am happy to show you, if it will put your mind at ease.”

  He opens another page on the tablet. The runes are copied there, exactly as they were the day the stones shifted before me. The translation is written plainly underneath.

  No more shall be bound by the circle here.

  It doesn’t give me any answers, only further questions. “How does that have anything to do with me?” I ask.

  “It doesn’t.” The principal takes the tablet away. “It only means that we must prepare a new ritual before the start of next year. All rituals have a beginning and an end. You just so happened to…trigger this one.”

  That can’t be all. Even he must know it. I can’t be the only one who thinks it sounds more like a bad omen than it does an order to re-set the ritual.

  “So…what? You are going to strip me of my powers just because you’re, I don’t know, afraid that I might be too powerful or something?”

  “You exaggerate,” he says. “To insinuate that we are somehow intimidated by you is absurd.”

  “And if I refuse?” I say. “If I decide not to choose.”

  He sits back and holds out his arms as if he is helpless here. “Then you and all your paired will be stripped of your powers.”

  “That isn’t fair!”

  He slams a hand down on the table. Even the teachers flinch. “Life isn’t fair, Octavia.” He takes a moment to compose himself. “The choices we make affect all those around us. You must be made to see that. We are doing this for your own good.”

  “I see.” But I don’t. All I know is that ever since I showed up, ever since the affinity ritual singled me out, I have been treated like this is somehow my fault. That I am some kind of fluke to be dealt with. I glance at Wednesday. I never intended for her to get caught up in all this.

  “Well then, we better get going. I don’t have much time to figure out what kind of magic I want to keep.” I glance between the four of them as Wednesday and I grab our things and ready to leave. “Or who it is I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

  “Maybe you will get lucky, and the decision won’t ultimately be up to you.” Something about the way the principal’s eyes bore into me tells me that if he has his way, it certainly won’t be his son Cedric. I am not from the kind of family that is going to help him expand his empire.

  I swing my bag back over my shoulder and storm out. Wednesday scuttles after me.

  We are halfway back to the dorms before she catches up.

  “I know it sucks, but really Octavia, would that be so bad? I mean, everyone else only has one affinity.”

  “Yes!” I blurt. My mind has wandered away from magic and to the four boys that accompany it. “The pairing ritual is supposed to make things easy. It’s supposed to take the guesswork out of all this. Now no matter what I choose, I’m always going to wonder what could have been.”

  “Well, it’s pretty obvious that it doesn’t always make things easy,” she says.

  I pause a moment. I know what I just said wasn’t entirely fair, at least not to her. She doesn’t even have a brand, or any sign of getting paired with a mage. But that doesn’t change the fact that what the principal and the others are trying to make me do is wrong. I can feel it.

  “I mean, Wednesday, if you were in my shoes, wouldn’t you want to keep it all?”

  Wednesday stands there silent for a moment. Then she tugs up the sleeve of her shirt and stares down at where her brand should be, but isn’t. At first I think she is going to lecture me about how selfish I am being, but then she surprises me.

  “Yes,” she finally says. “And I would fight my hardest not to give any of it back.”

  I grin at her. Finally, something we can agree on.

  “Good. Because I don’t plan to.”

  14

  Octavia

  I tell Wednesday I need some time to process what just happened and make her swear not to tell anyone what I decided. I don’t want the boys to know about this choice I am supposed to make just yet...or that I don’t plan making a choice at all.

  The better part of the evening is spent staring at my phone, trying to decide if I should tell anyone about the school board’s decision. No, not a decision, a threat. I never imagined being a mage would be easy, but I never thought it would be this hard.

  Maybe it is cowardly or selfish of me, but I can’t bear to see what they will say if I tell them. Instead, I take out one of the textbooks I’ve been given and I try to get ahead on some of the reading. I wish The Sight had fixed my brain the way it had fixed my vision, but I try anyway. If I am going to risk losing all my magic, I better be damned well sure I tried my hardest to keep it.

  Wednesday is in an odd mood when I show up for general class in the morning. She wedges herself between me and Kendall as soon as we arrive, but I don’t actually mind. The last thing I want to have to do is lie to him if he asks me anything directly about what happened yesterday. All I want is to get lost in the rush of magic, to practice the beginner’s Psychic exercises I read up on last night. But all we get is another long lecture.

  About halfway through class, I can’t stand it anymore. I start fiddling with the edge of my notebook. I tear out of a page and practice what Flynn and Kendall taught me yesterday. I try to make the corner of one of the pages fold on its own. It takes me a few minutes, but I eventually get it to work. Next, I try making it fold over a second time.

  Wednesday spots me and at first I think she is going to tell me off. Instead, she nudges Kendall and by the end of class, all three of us have successfully covered our desks in enough paper origami cranes to call it a proper flock. We would probably get detention if Wednesday doesn’t sweep them all under the row of seats in front of us with a quick gust of air when the professor walks by.

  I need to have her teach me that trick next.

  Turns out it’s movie night in the common room. I try to follow Wednesday and Kendall over there for a couple games of foosball beforehand, but I am too distracted. It’s my turn to be the one in an odd mood.

  Kendall is the one who finally says something about it. He has just scored his seventeenth point on me in a row when, rather than grinning in silent victory like he usually does, he grabs the ball from the center of the table and looks me in the eye.

  “Something is on your mind.”

  “No there isn’t,” I say, much too quickly.

  He rolls the ball between two fingers a moment. “Are you nervous about class tomorrow?”

  “Oh class, yes! That’s it,” I say. “I haven’t had the chance to practice what they did yesterday.”

  He nods once and tosses the ball so it rolls seamlessly back into my goal. “Then lets practice.”

  I look at Wednesday out of panic. She just shrugs and starts clearing things away from one of coffee tables. “Why not?”

  I want to glare at her, but I am sure Kendall will notice. Instead, I just mov
e very, very slowly over and sit cross-legged in front of it.

  Wednesday continues eating trail mix and eyeing us from the sofa. “This should be good.”

  I sneak one nasty look in her direction as Kendall settles down across from me. “So,” he says, “tell me what to do.”

  I have him write down a number in secret, and then lay it out on the table in front of us. I am supposed to guess the number without him telling me. It’s supposed to test my innate Psychic ability.

  I already know I am going to do well. I’ve always thought I was very lucky with these kinds of games. Turns out, I’m just a Psychic.

  Once I guess the first six in a row correct, Kendall puts a hand up to stop me. “Maybe something a little more challenging?”

  I grab my book from my backpack and skim down to the next set of exercises. He sees me hesitating and tugs the book from my hands before I can stop him.

  “We should do this,” he says.

  “I don’t think it’s fair,” I say, quickly. “Since I’m at an obvious advantage.”

  “Only if you think I don’t know you that well.”

  Wednesday leans in closer to see what it is. “You should definitely do it.”

  The exercise is a version of the old ice-breaker, “two truths and a lie.” As a Psychic, I am supposed to be good at telling when someone is lying. Some mages are more gifted at it than others. I really, really don’t want to do it, but it will look more suspicious if I continue to refuse.

  “Fine,” I say. I sweep the numbered papers off the table and try to take a second to clear my mind. “Okay, go.”

  Kendall has to think a moment. “When I was fifteen, I got my head stuck in a locker.” I giggle, and he taps me on the shoulder to make me stop. “You’ve got to let me say the others. Okay, um…when I was little, my mother used to dress me up in Wednesday’s clothes because they were prettier and she couldn’t tell us apart anyway.”

  “Nope, you have to use ones I don’t already know are true.”