Magic and Mayhem

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Magic and Mayhem Page 4

by S. Usher Evans


  To mine, though, it sounded like the same methods Gavon might've used when he'd first crossed over to this side. Had he taught James how to be a chameleon in an unfamiliar place? Or was James simply one of those people who could adapt?

  The questions plagued me for most of the day, taking my attention away from class. Every time my mind wandered to the lecture, I would wrestle it back to James, watching him for signs of evil doing or anything that would give me a reason to blow his ass out of the school.

  "You have to stop glaring at me," he said, standing in my path after lunch.

  "I will when you leave my school," I retorted.

  The corner of his mouth quirked up in an evil smile he apparently reserved just for me. "No."

  "Then let's do this for real," I said, closing in on him. "Think you can get away from your master?"

  There was a flash of something in his eyes—but whether it was challenge or fear, I couldn't tell. "You should be thanking your father for stepping in. Had we dueled, you most assuredly would've been killed."

  "Is that so?" I said, brushing away the emotions that bubbled up. "As I recall, I kicked your ass two years ago with nothing but a few months of training—"

  He scoffed. "You did no such thing. I was about to land the killing blow when your family interrupted."

  "And that's why you fainted?" I taunted. My magic was humming now and, despite the dangers this conversation posed, I was ready to face them. "Tonight. For real this time. No Gavon. Just you and me—"

  "I—" he started, and I saw it—uncertainty. It was quickly masked by indifference. "No. You aren't worth the effort. Just accept I'm the superior magical and quit bothering me."

  My jaw fell to the floor. I didn't know James very well, but I knew him well enough to know he would never walk away from a fight. But it wasn't just his words that shocked me. He'd been ready to duel me, but something had stopped him. I doubted it was fear because it was clear he wasn't afraid of me.

  Whatever it was had been stronger than his ego—and that was saying something.

  Some of my worry eased as the second day of school wore on. James showed no signs of magic that I could see. Perhaps, for once, Gavon was telling the truth about James' purpose for being here. At least partially.

  The other reason became clear halfway through world history, when I recalled a particular comment from my brief, horrific time with Cyrus. He'd said I was to be the next Guildmaster, a child born of both worlds that could help lead the takeover. Gavon, too, had mentioned that he'd spent the past thirty years learning everything he could. Perhaps this wasn't just about "knocking him down a few pegs," but about gathering intelligence on our world for their grand schemes. And while that didn't make me completely at ease, it did change my defensive strategy from active to observational. I would keep an eye on him, watch for signs that he was doing more than simply charming the pants off every girl in the school, and return to my studies.

  And the mountain of other stresses I'd momentarily cast aside—including the three classes that had assigned homework I hadn't done.

  Starting the semester with zeroes was enough to scare me into forgetting about James and focus on school. Georgetown wouldn't accept "saving the world from evil magicals" as an extra-curricular activity. I also had volunteer hours to worry about and tutoring this afternoon to make up for missing the day before. It would be a feat to accomplish everything, but this wasn't my first rodeo.

  After school, I transported myself to the county animal shelter for my four hours of volunteer time. It wasn't that I was particularly fond of animals, but the volunteer work was done solo, allowing me to cheat a little. I signed in at the welcome desk, waving to Cindy, the manager. She was a bit weird, definitely overworked, but kind. And the best part: she never bothered me while I worked.

  The dogs in the kennels began barking and jumping when I walked into the back room where we held them. I glanced at the recording camera then floated a little magic toward it. Magic and electronics didn't mix so well, but with a very light touch, I could play with it. In my mind's eye, I overlaid the image of me cleaning out each of the stalls for the next hour. Then, with a flick of my wrists, the kennels were clean, the water bowls replaced, and fresh water added.

  To boot, I magically petted and scratched all the dogs behind the ears. The barking ceased as they relaxed. They'd stay this way for a while, and I figured it was the good that canceled out the bad of using magic for everything else.

  Speaking of which, my phone vibrated, signaling it was time to head to my second job. I reset the alarm for an hour then transported myself out of the kennel to the nearby library. I arrived in the usual bathroom stall, listening for the sounds of anyone else in the room before walking out.

  My shoulders drooped when I saw the kid sitting at my normal table.

  "Hi Charles," I said, forcing a smile onto my face.

  "Hullo," he said, glancing around nervously. Thirteen years old, he didn't want any of his friends knowing he was getting study help. Little did he know that I cast a charm around our table to keep them away. It was another addition to the "good powers" column that assuaged my guilt over using magic in every day situations.

  I wished I could use magic to tutor Charles. He was a good kid, just easily distracted and seemingly impervious to my usual methods of helping. Most kids just needed someone to walk them through the steps slower than their teachers did. But Charles wasn't getting the concepts at all.

  "This doesn't make any sense," he growled, throwing his pen down.

  "Look," I said, growing frustrated myself. "It's simple. We're just solving for X. You need to—"

  I pinched the bridge of my nose when my phone vibrated. It was too soon for the hour to be up, and my phone notifications were empty. That mean someone had tripped the charm around the kennel.

  I popped to my feet. "Hang on, I need to grab this. Work on those problems, and I'll come back and check on them."

  I ducked between two library stacks and transported myself back to the kennel before anyone saw me. I materialized just as the door was opening, and quickly forced an easy smile onto my face. "Hiya Cindy."

  "Hi, Lexie. You sure finished quick today," she said, walking in a pair of prospective adopters. "Guess you can sign out early."

  I hid the grimace—I'd only clocked twenty minutes instead of the full four hours of volunteer time. But I couldn't argue with her, so I dutifully went to sign out before returning to the library.

  Where Charles was gone.

  "Perfect."

  In lieu of using magic, I scoured the library for him. Twenty minutes later, I found him climbing into his mother's car. She did not look pleased.

  "What am I paying you for if you're taking personal calls instead of tutoring my child?" she barked. She was one of those mothers who wore her hair short, her makeup severe, and drove a minivan filled with sports equipment.

  "My…sister was in the hospital," I lied, wishing I sounded more convincing. "I apologize, it won't happen again—"

  "It won't. And you won't get your check today either."

  I should've expected that. Charles gave me a forlorn look from the backseat as they drove away, and I was left with the particular sense of failure that I'd screwed up not one but two jobs today. The money wasn't much—twenty bucks for two hours of tutoring—but if I lost Charles as a weekly check, that would be a problem. I prayed Mrs. Gilly wouldn't be too put out as I walked back to my bathroom to transport myself home.

  I was exhausted, but two days' worth of homework welcomed me when I got to my bedroom. My head ached, but I dutifully summoned my physics textbook and began to read.

  Well, I wouldn't call it reading per se, as I was scanning the pages with my magic, looking for the answers to my homework questions, which would be scribbled down with a magically-assisted pen.

  "You can't use magic to do your homework." Jeanie's voice floated through the back of my mind and I put the book down. I didn't use my magic to cheat on test
s, but I'd used it to help out on all the essays and research papers that had accumulated my junior year. It had reduced six hours' worth of homework to one, allowing me to pile on all the other things, like volunteering and tutoring.

  But Jeanie was always there, in the back of my mind. The day she'd told me about my magic, she'd said it wasn't a big deal. Just another sense, that it wouldn't change anything about my life. I wished I could say she'd been right. Everything about my life was different.

  Especially because she wasn't in it.

  I'd never been as close to my aunt as I was with Nicole, but I noticed her absence unexpectedly. Sometimes, I'd catch myself waiting to hear her walk through the door. When Nicole and I would go out to eat at our favorite Mexican restaurant, I'd listen for the sound of her saying "margarita." I'd see a woman with short brown hair out on the town, and a flutter of hope would course through me. But my nightmares always ended with her dead, lifeless eyes staring back at me, and I knew she was truly gone. I felt no closure, though. There'd been no funeral for us to celebrate her life, to say our final goodbyes.

  The familiar pang of loneliness threatened to bubble up, now combined with the newest memory of Gavon. It was so easy to fall into his trap—him saying how powerful I was, how proud he looked—but the truth was in his actions.

  Scratching drew my attention; the pen had run out of paper and was writing on the wood of my desk. I waved my hand to stop the spell. Instead of my physics homework, the page was filled with the outpouring of all the emotions I'd just been feeling. I used my magic to lift the ink off the page and return it to the pen, leaving the homework page blank.

  And with a heavy sigh, I picked up the pen and began to write.

  Six

  It had been two weeks since school started, and without any mishaps or evil happenings, I'd almost fully accepted my current theory that James was enrolled to gather intelligence. I kept a close eye on him (not hard, because he was in every single class) and I saw not one bit of magic from him. Well, magic-magic, that was. Somehow that bastard ingratiated himself with everyone who came into contact with him.

  Gone was his eager notetaking from the first few days, replaced by a bored expression as he acted like he wanted to be anywhere else but in that classroom. He hadn't acknowledged my existence in several days, so I was convinced this lackadaisical attitude wasn't for my benefit. James actually was petulant and self-absorbed.

  I was tempted to ask him if Gavon returned his power to him at night, but that would require asking about Gavon and New Salem, or talking to him at all, and I wasn't about to do that. But considering he barely took notes or paid attention, and yet was turning in homework every day, he had to be using it. He wasn't that smart.

  At least, I hoped not.

  Although my fears of impending disaster were gone, I still wanted to add some new tools to my defensive arsenal. So a trip to my favorite bookstore was required. I set aside some time on Saturday, and transported myself three hours west to New Orleans.

  New Orleans never used to hold any appeal for me. We'd gone once or twice on a rare family vacation with Jeanie, but with three young girls on a tight budget, none of us ever had much fun. I always thought it too muggy, too touristy, too…not me. Now that it was the only source of magical knowledge, I was a bit more fond of it.

  The first floor of the bookstore was dedicated to the new releases and bestsellers that presumably paid the rent. Upstairs, the merchandise was considerably older, the sort of books collectors sell on TV shows for millions of dollars. It was here where I found most of my magical books.

  I waved to the young guy at the counter—very sure he didn't remember some kid who came in every few weeks—and climbed the creaky, dusty stairs to the second floor. I inhaled the musty scent, taking a moment to appreciate the knowledge and the age of the books around me. Hunting down magical books was the primary goal, but I couldn't argue that standing in a room of old books wasn't an awesome perk.

  Slowly, I canvassed the room, my footsteps echoing with the groaning of the old floor. There wasn't really a rhyme or reason to how I found books, so I'd long stopped trying to force it. I passed over the titles on the spines, knowing that—

  "Ah!"

  Charms and Enchantments for the Un-Charmers jumped out at me almost instantly. Excitement and magic hummed in my skin as I pulled the book closer. It had been penned in 1637 by Richard Greentower, which was a bit disappointing. Most of the books I'd found were written before the Separation when New Salem was created. Now, I was curious about magicals after the Separation. I even tried a Google search on it, but I wasn't sure how much was real magic, and how much fake.

  The book in my hands was definitely the real deal. I found my reading chair in the corner and carefully read through the first few pages. It was the same sort of too-wordy, too-up-its-own-butt kind of tone in all the other books. What was it about seventeenth century magical writers that made them so self-important?

  I quickly scanned the appendix of spells, looking for the elusive locator spell I could use to find my sister. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't in there. But there was something that piqued my interest—a charm for a talisman to warn when someone was lying. That could come in handy with James—or Gavon, if I ever saw him again.

  I closed the book and pressed it to my chest, glancing around the shelves to see if anything else caught my eye. But this would do for now.

  I made my way downstairs, preparing for the story I'd tell the guy at the counter if he asked why I was buying a book on magic. Thus far, it hadn't come up. Most people just saw an old, worn book.

  Counter-guy was kind of cute (or maybe he was cute for working in a bookstore). I approached the front desk and slid the book across it quietly.

  "Is that it?" he asked, picking up the book and turning it over. "Don't see a price on it. Is it from upstairs?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, I'm using it for an art project I saw on Pinterest."

  He frowned. "You're going to destroy it?"

  "Uh…no," I clarified hastily. "I'm going to…put it with a few other pieces I found on a shelf."

  I wasn't sure he believed me, but he went to his computer anyway. He scratched his chin and typed on the keyboard then furrowed his brow and typed some more. "That's funny. We don't have a record of this book."

  "O-oh?" I cursed myself. One of these days, I was going to transport myself and leave a twenty in the register. That would've been easier than trying to fake my way through the awkward purchase conversation.

  "Look, how's five dollars sound?" he asked. "I mean, it's pretty beat up anyway."

  To my eyes, it looked in near mint condition for a book written in 1637, but I wasn't sure what enchantments were on it. "Sure. Five is great." I fished the bill out of my wallet and smiled at him.

  "You come in here a lot, don't you?" he asked. He couldn't have been older than twenty, now that I really looked at him. Soft brown hair cut short, dark eyes, a dimple on his left cheek.

  "I do?" My face grew warm. "I mean, yeah, I do. I like this place."

  "Promise me you aren't destroying these old books, though."

  I had to laugh at the concerned tone in his voice. "No, I promise you. I'm keeping them in a dark place, away from light and dust."

  "All right then." He handed me the book in a plastic bag and grinned. "See you next time."

  "Bye!"

  I dashed out of the store before he could ask me any more questions. I was nearly two blocks away before I realized that the cute boy at the bookstore had not only noticed me, but remembered me and had a conversation with me. It wasn't true love, but considering that most guys ignored my presence (or tried to kill me), it was a good start.

  With a small giggle, I transported myself back home.

  Doing magic at home was always risky, especially on the weekends when Nicole was around, so I transported myself to the sparring beach to attempt it. I was kind of rough with charms—they were different than the normal conjuring and summoning I'd learned
with Gavon. Charms, as I understood them, used magic to bring forth the inherent properties of an object, either enhancing them or making them do stuff. The barrier outside my house was a charm based on the protective qualities of dirt and the air, but I'd nearly burned down the complex trying to figure it out.

  I only had a few hours of sunlight left, so I passed all the interesting charms for never-melting candles and always-refilling ink wells until I found the one I was looking for.

  Truth-Telling Charm

  A truth-telling charm is placed upon a blue sapphire and worn by the Magical. When told a lie, the charm will cause the object to warm considerably. For this reason, the sapphire should be worn as a necklace or talisman.

  To enact the charm, place the sapphire in the left hand. Use Magic to unlock the truth-telling properties within.

  "Dammit."

  Considering this book was called "Charms for the Un-Charmers," I'd hoped it would offer more insight into how charms actually worked. Unfortunately, most of what I'd read to date was the same: Find object, use magic. The barrier charms had at least had some more detail to them; I had to think long and hard about those I wanted to protect in order for the barrier to have the maximum impact.

  First, I had to obtain a blue sapphire. A quick Google search on my phone showed their prices—way outside my budget. Which left me with the conundrum of either stealing from somewhere else or dropping it all together.

  Ignoring my Aunt Jeanie's voice in my ear, I summoned one from the closest jewelry store. It was gorgeous, sparkling navy blue inset into a pendant. I promised myself I was just borrowing it until James disappeared again. Once that was over with, back it would go.

 

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