Her Stolen Magic

by Zandra Pope

  “Are you making progress?” asked another man. This one sounded smooth as silk and familiar.

  I stepped into the shadow of a leafy maple tree. The leaves looked brown and dull in the darkness — enough like me that they would provide camouflage. Peering through the branches, I could barely make out two hooded forms just ahead of me. They were well off the walkway, hidden from prying eyes.

  Desperate not to be discovered, I considered retracing my steps and trying to get to the dorm another way, but I was intrigued. Why was the headmaster sneaking around?

  “I stirred up the water witches,” said the headmaster.

  “Very good. The more danger people believe they’re in, the better. Feeding the tension between the Purists and the Red Scare was a smart move.”

  A lump formed in my throat. The headmaster had riled the water witches and the guy he was talking to thought it was good? What was going on?

  “Once I win reelection, I’ll be free to make my move.”

  Reelection? The other man was a politician. Then it clicked. I realized with a sinking feeling who he was — Barron Von Koffle.

  “Excellent. The Tribunal has been renewed with sympathetic magics who support our mission. Once you have turned the majority of politicians in the United States Senate to your will, nothing can stop us.”

  Von Koffle gave a mirthless laugh. “Never underestimate the power of your enemies, Knavish. I need to get one last person out of the way.”

  “Here’s the relic you asked for,” said the headmaster followed by the sound of an object changing hands.

  “Excellent. Verity is the next target.”

  “I’ll send the werewolf.”

  My blood ran cold. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. ‘Verity!’ They were plotting against my family! But who? Me? My sister? My father? And why would the headmaster be working with Von Koffle?

  My heart began beating so thunderously I was sure the two men could hear it. I needed to get out of there and fast. I took a step and snapped a twig.

  “What was that?”

  “Someone’s there.”

  Crap. I ran.

  A flash of light hit the maple tree and it exploded into a million tiny pieces. I sprinted toward the hedge, but realized that would be the first place they’d think to look — or shoot, so I cut right and headed for a hill counting on the darkness to cover my flight. If I could get over the crest of the hill, I’d be out of sight.

  A flash of green light illuminated the hedge row that I had avoided, blowing it to bits.

  They weren’t trying to stop me, they were trying to kill me.

  I ran harder.

  As I crested the hill, the sky lit up like day. In fact, the entire area was thrown into relief by an unnatural green light. Still running at full speed, threw myself to the ground, and tumbled down the hill, scraping my legs and arms on rocks and tree roots. I hardly felt the pain. I was too busy praying I could elude them.

  As the ground leveled out I slowed my spin-cycle descent. Pushing myself to my feet, I sprinted toward the dorms. This time, I took the shortest route possible.

  A snarl sounded behind me. Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I saw a werewolf closing in. His muscular legs rippled in the moonlight. Slobber dripped from his sharp teeth.

  I pumped my arms and my legs. If I could get to the dorms might be safe, right? Deep down, I knew the situation was hopeless but I wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

  15

  A black wolf materialized out of the darkness. Snarling and snapping, it sprang at the werewolf and tackled it. A howl of pain rent the crisp autumn air. The black wolf had scored a point against the werewolf.

  Desperate to live, I ran, pounding the ground with my feet. I wasn’t going to stick around to see which animal won. Wolf or werewolf, chances are I was on the menu for the winner.

  Even though the wolf had it in for me, I was thankful for him. He had saved my life.

  Throwing open the door to Bristow Hall, I dashed inside and up the stairs, dodging girls in sweeping formal gowns. I finally stopped to catch my breath in the fourth floor common area.

  Ava was across the room laughing with a gaggle of girls. When she saw me, a scowl shadowed her face and she stormed over. “What were you doing?”

  I couldn’t tell her the whole story, not with all the other girls around.

  So I simply answered, “Running.”

  “At night?”

  I shrugged like it was a normal thing for me to do. “I had a long day of classes. Had to get my workout in.”

  All the other girls were in semi-formal dresses and in various stages of make up application, including Ava. Then there was me: sweaty, covered in grass stains, bleeding a little on my knees and elbows, and smelling like cheese.

  Amanda, who had shimmering violet hair streaked with gold, was in Valerian’s camp of Purist jerks. She wrinkled her nose, confirming my offensive fragrance. “You need a shower, Greta.” She flounced away, her pale pink dress swooshing as she walked.

  “No, kidding. I was working out, Amanda.” I said it like she was the idiot, because she was.

  I leaned against the wall, gasping for air, trying not to throw up from the sudden nausea I felt as I remembered the conversation between Barron and Knavish.

  “Hey, sorry about before,” said Ava quietly, leaning next to me.

  I shrugged and stared at the floor.

  “I won’t do it again.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I could feel regret radiating off of her body like waves of heat.

  I sighed, deeply and rested my sweaty head against her beautiful gossamer lavender gown. She didn’t cringe away from me. We both knew she could magic any stains or stink away, so it wasn’t a big deal, but it was a nice gesture. An accepting gesture.

  “I should finish getting ready,” she said. “And you do need a bath,” she chucked.

  Behind closed doors her demeanor changed dramatically.

  “What happened? Tell me the truth.” Her eyes were dark with concern as she scanned me with her eyes and took in my injuries.

  I considered keeping the information to myself, but I needed Ava’s help even if she and I were at war.

  “Knavish and Von Koffle tried to kill me. They’re plotting something sinister.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Look at me! I’m a mess. This isn’t how I look when I end a run. They’re after one of us, or maybe Dad. They said ‘Verity was next.’”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know, but they tried to kill me for overhearing them. They sent a wee—”

  Ava understood even though I couldn’t say werewolf.

  “Holy crap,” she said.

  “Holy crap is right.”

  “Did they see you? I mean, do they know for sure it’s you?” She eyed our bedroom door nervously.

  “It was dark. I don’t think they saw my face or they’d have sent goons to arrest me.”

  She started pacing the room. “We have to fight back.”

  I grabbed her arm. “I can’t fight back. It’d be you against two powerful magicals. Adults.”

  “Then we’ll report them.”

  “I already thought of that. It’s no good. Who would believe us? Would you believe us?”

  Ava shook her head. “No.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s it? You’re going to roll over and die?”

  “No, I’m going to run away,” I said dumping my backpack onto the bed. Books, papers, and pens cascaded onto my bedspread. I began stuffing underwear and socks into it.

  “Greta, this is madness. We can’t run away. Where would we run?”

  I dropped the backpack and started to cry. “This day has really sucked.”

  There was a knock on our dorm room door. I froze. Panic welled up inside of me. What if it was Knavish’s goons were here to arrest me?

  ‘Don’t answer,’ I mouthed.

  Ava l
ooked from me to the door.

  “You guys in there?” It was Tabby.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Ava relaxed. Then she shot me an ‘I’m totally going to kill you’ look for making her freak out like that.

  “Just a sec,” called Ava. Then she said to me, “We’ve got to get you cleaned up.”

  “I just want to go to bed.”

  “No.” I started to protest, but she held up her hand in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m making a suggestion. The last thing you need to do is go to bed. You need to blend in with everyone else, do just what everyone else is doing. If you do anything to stand out, to single yourself out, you’re putting yourself at risk. You’re putting both of us at risk. Knavish and Von Koffle don’t know who overheard them. If you hide, they’ll suspect you. Tonight, you hide in plain sight.”

  Ava was right. As exhausted as I was, the last thing I should do was hide out in our room. They’d be looking for me, and by me, I mean, anyone who seemed tired or injured.

  “Can you heal me?” I asked.

  “We need to be careful. We don’t want them to detect healing magic on you.” Magic left signatures on people and things that were fairly easy to detect.

  “What if you do a total makeover on me? That way it will just seem like the fresh magic is because of the makeover.”

  I was reticent to even say those words. For years Ava had been after me to let her change my look, magic me up a little. ‘Everyone does it,’ she always said with a disparaging glance at my limp hair and rampant acne. As though telling me that everyone was doing it would change my mind.

  Ava grinned. “Pure genius,” she said as she walked to the door. She threw the door open and greeted Tabby with a friendly hug.

  “Looking good, girl.” Ava appraised Tabby’s Homecoming outfit. It wasn’t a dress so outfit was the only way to describe it. She was dressed in a silken batik jumpsuit. The batik was brilliant jewel tones and complimented Tabby’s darker skin tone beautifully. Her dreadlocks matched her jumpsuit in colors of red, green, purple, and gold.

  “My mom bought it in Ghana when she visited my aunt. I’ve been saving it wear for a special occasion.” Tabby was a gorgeous girl who had a father from Denmark and a mother from Ghana. She radiated confidence, intelligence, and pride in her ancestry.

  Tabby appraised my running clothes and grass stains and Ava’s half-done hair. “You guys going to the dance?”

  “I’m helping Greta get ready. She just agreed to a makeover,” gushed Ava.

  Man, my sister could act. She could turn on the excitement at the drop of a hat. I was impressed. Add that to the list of her many other skills. The girl was unstoppable.

  I wrinkled my nose. “I still want to look like me.”

  Tabby yelled into the living room, “Guys, come quick. Ava’s going to make over Greta for Homecoming.”

  The sounds of something dropping to the floor and breaking were followed by someone exclaiming, “Holy cannoli, don’t start without me.”

  I crossed my arms. “Do I have to have an audience? I don’t want an audience.”

  “Come on! You’ll love it.”

  “Famous last words,” I grumbled.

  16

  Ava wrapped me in a bear hug. “I am so mean and stupid. I’m the meanest, awfullest sister in the world. Forgive me, Great-a.” She emphasized the word great. “You’re stupendous. I’m the worst. You’re way better than me. You are. Believe it.”

  She held me tightly and wouldn’t let go. I stood awkwardly until she finished her hug. Her words placated me, sort of, but she had done real damage, cutting a permanent hole in me. By abandoning me in the library my twin sister had started unraveling us.

  “Come on. I’ll help you get ready,” she gushed.

  Ava fussed over me. Tabby and several of her friends joined us.

  “Try a glamorous look. Gold is a good color on her,” said Tabby.

  “Ooh, great idea,” said Ava. “You like gold, don’t you, Greta?”

  “I don’t know.” I regretted agreeing to a makeover. Ava looked at me like a pet. “I don’t want to stand out.” It was my standard line. I pretended that I didn’t care how I looked, that I was totally cool with being beige in a world of hot pink glitter girls.

  Never good a listening to me, the first thing Ava did was change my hair from limp brown ponytail to bright purple braided crown.

  “You look like a princess,” she gushed. Tabby nodded her approval.

  “No,” I said bluntly. “It’s not me.” It wasn’t me. At all. I wasn’t pretending on that one.

  “We could match!” With a sly smile Ava changed my hair and hers to a hot pink asymmetrical bob. I loved it, but one look at Ava behind me melted my confidence. I couldn’t sport a matching style. Everyone would call me a wanna-be. Not to mention, standing next to her I’d look like a pig that put on some lipstick.

  “Can you try a natural color?”

  “You’re no fun,” teased Tabby, her colorful dreads tumbling over her shoulders.

  Ava face fell. Long ago, before Ava got her powers, we used to dress identically. Once she got her magic and her appearance started to change, I became less enthusiastic about matching her, because clearly, I didn’t. I felt like a little girl wearing a slinky club dress and make up. It was totally inappropriate and matching her made me feel — dirty and stupid — like a big faker. I made her stop.

  Ava changed my hair again. This time she turned my hair white blonde. She made it long and full of big, bouncy curls. The look was ethereal — elven. Definitely magical, but not over the top.

  It looked like ghost hair, perfect for me, the girl who wanted to fade into the background.

  “That’s really good, Ava,” I whispered, in awe of the transformation.

  “Amazing,” agreed Tabby.

  “You should consider doing something more like this for your day-to-day look, Greta,” Tabby’s friend, Bianca, advised.

  I shot Ava a quick warning look. This was exactly why I never let her do my hair or make up.

  Ava leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Just for tonight, Greta. Please. Just this once. Take a risk.”

  Shoving my nerves aside, I nodded in assent.

  Ava did my magical make up. She didn’t need product. It was all illusion-based. She tried cat’s eyes, where she made my pupils diamond shaped and amber-colored.

  Too creepy.

  She tried a dark-look with gray “blush,” black lipstick, and Kohl around my eyes.

  Too angsty.

  She hit the mark with a warm smokey-eye and coral lips.

  I stared at myself — utterly transformed.

  “You’re still you,” she said, reading my face. “I didn’t do anything to enhance your features.” She said this because girls routinely used magic to make their eyes bigger, noses smaller, ears cuter, legs longer, bellies flatter. All Ava had done for me was use magic as though it were a product.

  “You’re beautiful, Greta,” she said.

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Tabby cut me off. “She’s right, Greta. You are. I know you don’t believe it, but you are.”

  “It’s just magic,” I said lamely.

  All the girls gathered in our room disagreed.

  “It’s not magic. It’s you.”

  I sighed. “Fine. I look nice. Thank you, Ava.”

  She beamed and hugged me. “You’re so welcome.”

  “I don’t want to be a party-pooper,” I started to say.

  Ava crossed her arms. “Then don’t.”

  “It’s just that I don’t want to stay out super late. I’m really tired.” I yawned. Ava tried to swallow her yawn, which started as soon as she saw my yawn.

  “I guess I am too,” she laughed.

  “Hell, no,” said Tabby. “It’s Homecoming.”

  17

  The dance started at nine at the barn.

  We arrived fashionably late, at nine forty-one. I checked my watch as we
walked through the barn doors and set the timer to go off at midnight. I was leaving then no matter what.

  Ava must have seen me do it. “You’re so anal, Greta. Just have fun.”

  Pounding bass from multiple subwoofers shook the dilapidated barn walls. The floor was covered in enchanted glitter. You know how normal glitter sticks to everything it comes in contact with? This didn’t. The floor was a massive undulating, pulsing glitter box. Sparkling gold swirled around my feet. It was a cool effect, but it didn’t make me want to stay.

  A long table against the far wall held a golden fountain with red liquid cascading from its tiers. Very few people were drinking from it. Instead, there was a small crowd gathered around a cooler on the opposite side and an upperclassman was handing out bottles of Batty Beer and Alchemy Ale. They were the cheapest brands, commonly referred to as Barfy Beer and Hangover Ale.

  Jeremy was suddenly standing in front of me offering me a bottle of Alchemy. “Hey, wow. Greta, you look great.”

  We looked at each other dumbly. All I could think of was asking him if he needed a pen. Thankfully, I had enough of my wits to keep from saying anything pen related.

  Ava nudged me.

  “Oh, hi. Right. Thanks. Nice to see you.” Words were not my friends. I wanted to bite my tongue to stop them from vomiting out of my mouth. What was wrong with me? Why did Jeremy make me act like a buffoon?

  He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and glanced at the floor. Great. I had made him want to run away.

  “Did you find a date for tonight?” asked Ava him.

  Super awkward. What was she doing? Just let him go away. Clearly he wanted to.

  “No. I — uhh — decided it might be more fun to just go stag,” he said. Then remembering that he was holding a beer, he held it out — to me!

  “Want one?”

  Ugh. Now I was a charity case. He was being nice to me because I was Ava’s sister. I didn’t need charity. Annoyed, I made a face and pushed the bottle away. “No thanks,” I said. “I don’t do high school cliches. Was that the cheapest beer you guys could find?”