Chance looked from Logan, to me, back to Orchid, confused.
A slow smile formed on Logan’s face. He knew what I’d done.
Love Potion #9 spell.
I grinned back, sheepish. Orchid would kill me when she found out, but at least we avoided something worse.
Orchid’s fingers flitted up, and landed on Chance’s smooth chest, “My friend Lily here decided it would be fun to spend the day on the Boardwalk and dragged me along. Looking for a summer job if things don’t go well next week.” She giggled. Orchid never giggled. “What about you guys? Picking up applications at the cotton candy stand?” Her eyes rolled over Chance like his deluxe bod were custom made, just for her.
And he was loving it.
“I had my heart set on Hot Dog on a Stick. Much more my speed,” he said, stepping closer to her.
Logan looked at me and shrugged, a grin playing on his lips.
He hadn’t put a hex on his friend; Chance was rolling with Orchid all on his own.
Oh boy.
“Or the pretzel place,” Orchid said. “I prefer salty to sweet.” When she ran her tongue over her star-shaped lip ring, it was apparent from Chance’s expression that he was, at minimum, mesmerized—at maximum, already enraptured.
I stepped in the middle of their almost savage physical admiration party before they devoured each other alive.
“How about y’all keep us company on the Gravitron?”
“Sure,” Chance said, without a contemplative beat.
“Our treat. Lily here made us buy DAY passes. Unlimited rides. Oh joy of joy!”
Logan’s eyes were on me, pressing into my skin.
“I like amusement parks,” I said, unapologetic.
“Another thing we have in common,” he said.
“Really? I didn’t take you for an amusement park sort.”
He glanced around at the Boardwalk. The humans, the noise, the smells.
He shrugged happily.
For the moment, Orchid and Chance were occupied and non-threateningly charmed by the other.
If I could get him into the Gravitron, maybe with the spinning and the darkness, I could steal my stone back, and then, when Camellia and Iris found out that I had indeed met with Logan before their orders to do so, I’d have a legit reason why.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Let’s go.”
“Have you ever had a butterscotch milkshake?” Logan asked as we walked along behind Orchid and Chance, who were literally all over each other and practically making out.
I cringed with guilt. But it looked like they were having fun. And I did have a task to do. Obviously, I would intervene if things got really out of hand.
“A butterscotch milkshake. Have you had one?”
I wrinkled my nose searching for a double meaning. “Not that I recall. No.”
It was one of those situations wherein you just know how the events are going to unfold before they begin to unfold. Logan and I immediately stepped into each other’s orbit as if we were a planet and a moon with no other choice.
“You’d think you’d remember something like a butterscotch malt.”
I could tell he was trying to talk to me about something else, something important—but he didn’t know how to bring it up. A group of moms pushing strollers came too tight to my left and I had no choice but to move into him. Our arms were swinging together like two pendulums in sync. When my fingers accidentally grazed his, I felt his whole body—all tense energy—snap like a rubber band. Logan quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaving me offended and nonsensically disappointed that he wasn’t as enticed by me as Chance was by Orchid.
I stepped out of his orbit. I don’t like you, either.
“Untrue,” he said aloud with an eyebrow raised.
He was Reading me again.
“Well, I wish it were true.”
“No, you don’t. Remember, Lily”—he leaned into me—“I can Hear your every thought. Even when you try to block me.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes. I can.”
“No. Otherwise you’d know I’m not allowed to be talking to you.”
“Of course you aren’t allowed to talk to me. That’s Spellspinner doctrine.” He met my eyes but his looked sad when he said it. “Everyone knows that.”
With some difficulty, I respun the spell that guarded my thoughts. Then I said, “But there’s some other reason. More specific to you and me.”
“Which is?” He stopped walking and stared intently. Magnetizing.
“I thought you said you could Hear my every thought?”
His eyes narrowed. “I thought I could.”
“Why’d you steal my amulet, Logan?”
The spell had obviously worked, because he was looking at me curiously, not knowingly. Giving up, he tugged on a chunk of hair and looked out toward the sea. “It looked so much like mine.”
I bit my lip. “Yours?”
“Yes. Which was given to me by my real parents.”
That stopped me. “Your real parents?”
“Yes, and I don’t know who they are. Jacob, the headmaster at the academy, raised me. My amulet’s the only clue I have to them.”
“So he’s not your father?”
“He’s my legal guardian, not my biological father.”
“Oh, wow.” The prophecy had mentioned the Roghnaithe would possess the magic of both light and darkness. If Jacob wasn’t his father, was another warlock? I needed to ask Iris and Camellia ASAP.
“How are you doing that?”
“What?”
“Blocking me like that?”
“I’m not going to tell you!”
But he looked so sad, suddenly I was the one feeling bad. What had Iris warned me about? Manipulative qualities. Bingo.
“Look, I’m sorry I took it. I’ll give it back after I find out more about it.”
“You could have just asked for it,” I said softly.
He stopped. “You would’ve let me borrow it? A warlock? Come on, Lily. You wouldn’t even let me hand you your water bottle. Germaphobic, remember?”
“But that’s only because I thought you might try to entrap me and drag me back to your creepy…”
“Father?”
“Yeah.”
“I told you I wasn’t the one who put that spell on you.”
He was making it practically impossible for me to be angry at him. His sadness. It made him seem human. Like he might care. He had saved me from the burning amulet. And now he was going along with this whole “set up Orchid and Chance so we can hang out” thing. “I know,” I said.
“Do you believe me?”
“I want to.”
Logan nodded, and resumed walking. I wanted to fill the silence, but didn’t know how. Didn’t know if I should try. He made it nearly impossible to stay on guard. It was the being around him, the vulnerability hidden behind his hard-eyed mask, the joking tone in his voice, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t looking—he was just the opposite of someone I could manipulate. And anyway, making nice did get me ample opportunity to get closer to him, and closer meant an opportunity to catch him off guard and snatch my amulet back, and later…
“Later what?”
“How did you Hear that?”
“You dropped your guard.”
“Is that how you’re doing it?”
“I think so. When you stop thinking I’m the bad guy I can Hear you again. Don’t feel bad, Lil,” he added. “It was a strong spell. Not just anyone could break through it.”
Stop being so sweet.
“No, I meant it.”
“Argh!” I pulled on my hair, and he elbowed me playfully, leaning his hip into mine and bending so close I could paint the dark of his eyelashes. “You aren’t supposed to talk about spells in public like that. I might have to report you to the Congression. Your friend, too. You can’t just approach us in broad daylight and start flirting like crazy—”
He pulle
d back, surprised. “I’m not flirting. Chance may indeed be flirting, but I’ve been on my best behavior. My very best behavior.”
Flustered, I stopped, cupped my hips with my palms, feeling the heat radiating where his bone had touched my skin moments before. “Right. You’ve been talking about milkshakes. And breaking through my spells.”
“Exactly,” he held his palms up like I was pointing a sword at him and he was surrendering. “Totally innocent of any kind of flirtation.”
I rolled my eyes, and started walking again. Immediately, he stepped into my orbit. My purple flip-flops, his black Chucks padded down the Boardwalk. I wouldn’t have been surprised if sparks were flying from the rubber like those cool metal scooters.
Then suddenly the energy in the air changed. Darkened. A group of angry-looking boys ran down the Boardwalk, their eyes daggers, muscles tensed.
“Gang fight,” Logan said quietly. “Wait here.”
He took off after them, and I followed him. The boys’ pace quickened as they disappeared into a dark tunnel—a ghost-themed kiddie ride where you shoot lasers at targets and rack up points. It was one of Daisy’s and my favorites as kids.
I remember being quite good, in fact.
Twenty feet ahead of me, Logan glanced over his shoulder.
Lily, I mean it. This is dangerous. Stay put.
I waited for him to round the corner, and then broke into a sprint again, until I reached the entrance, which was eerily deserted. A bold print sign read: Out of Order.
I heard yelling and threats in mixed Spanish and English.
Then a gun went off.
My heart nose-dived as I sprinted into the darkness. I couldn’t see anyone, could only hear screams, and there were several long tunnels to choose from. Which way was Logan? The echoes bounced around the hollow cave. The car—round and curved—sat stalled and still on its tracks.
Magic time.
I closed my eyes, lifted my palms, and pulled the energy from the ground beneath my feet. There was no sun to work with, just the earth. But in this moment it was enough, and the buggy started inching down the track. I jumped in, grabbed the laser gun and willed it to shoot sparks of electricity instead of kiddie flashes of light into the darkness. The sparks lighting my way, I heard more yelling—but the rage had given way to cries of pain and panic. My magic willed the car faster—on a track meant for little children, seatbelt not even required—it was hitting ten, fifteen, then twenty miles per hour until I was flying in that cave, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom-style.
And then I saw the wall.
Coming fast.
Pulling more energy from the exposed earth beneath the tracks, I tried to yank the brakes.
Stop.
It worked, but not well enough.
Again I squeezed my eyes shut, the car traveling at a speed so beyond its intention it was shaking.
STOP.
I bent the tracks with my mind. Twisted the metal, trying to create a wall of brakes.
Still I flew.
Cursing my failing magic, I bent over into my lap, cradling my head in entwined fingers. Locked in crash position. But then I saw the turn in the rails. Should I hit the wall and risk instant death, or turn the car at the last second and cruise out the exit, risking the safety of innocent people on the boardwalk?
Little kids.
That couldn’t happen.
Think fast. Think fast. Think fast.
The props!
I concentrated and made a plastic haunted house with ghosts sticking out its broken windows fall onto the tracks. Instead of crashing into the wall, I sailed into the plastic house, which bounced around the track, slowing me down a tad. I rubbed my head and screamed. A ghost was now sitting in my passenger seat baring a toothless grin and red flashing lights for eyes.
What I hadn’t anticipated was the impact of the large bulbs inside the plastic. And their impact on my head.
Everything was shattered and bright, then dark, then nothing.
Logan
“Lily? Lily?”
Damn it. Come on.
Her head was on his lap, her heart-shaped face cupped in his hand. Her pulse was strong—she was just knocked out, he repeated over and over to himself. The blow to her head was tough. He shouldn’t have stopped the runaway car so suddenly, but he’d had no choice.
Never before in his life had he run as fast as he had down that dark tunnel, leaving the wounded kid and sprinting to stop Lily in this runaway car.
What had she been doing anyway?
Why hadn’t she just stayed put where she’d be safe?
“Lil? Come on, Lily.”
He tapped her cheeks, flushed from magic—her long eyelashes like fluffs of fairy hair, sparkling and full of all things mysterious. All things lovely.
Then they fluttered and opened. And those eyes. There they were.
And his mood flipped from worry to freak out mode. “What were you thinking chasing me in here? Lil, this is dangerous! Those kids had guns!”
Lily groaned, and for a split second, he reconsidered chastising her. What would a human boy do in a similar situation? Take her to the doctor? Bring her flowers? Write her a poem? Well, he wasn’t some human boy, so he kept talking.
“They were involved in a gang dispute. I didn’t get there in time to wrangle the gun away…”
“With your magic?” she said faintly.
“Any way I had to. He was already a bloody mess—they were all yelling and arguing about what to do and then I saw you, and how’s your head? I didn’t mean to stop it so fast—I thought you’d fly out the cave and into the ocean.” He finally stopped talking and scratched his hair. “I don’t know what I thought. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’ve never heard you talk that much at once.”
Logan's eyes softened. “I guess saving you and then thinking I hadn’t saved you makes me…talkative.”
“I like it.”
He scratched his ankle, bent over. “You okay? You aren’t bleeding? I looked—but we’ll need to get you home to check that head.”
He started helping her sit up, but she faded to pale, and her eyes got weird. “Too soon. Okay.”
She leaned back over and fell sort of into his lap.
He tensed. But then helped her head to rest.
He watched her dandelion hair fall out across his lap, the white a contrast against the dark of his jeans. Her head turned to the side, and he lifted his fingers and ever so gently ran them down her cheek, moving between the strands of her hair like the partings of ribbon.
“Is the boy okay?” she said softly.
“I don’t think so. He was bleeding quite a bit. I told them to get him to the hospital, but they were scared.”
“Put your hands on me, Logan.”
“Huh?”
“Your hands. Put them on both sides of my face. I need some of your magic if I’m going to save the boy.”
He sat up taller. “Does it work like that? I can just give you magic? I thought you’d have to take it from me.”
Her eyes landed square on his, full of a need for him to hear her.
He was listening.
“You can give anyone your magic, Logan. It’s just that you don’t choose to.”
“I honestly didn’t know that was an option.”
She looked at him sadly—like he was a kid who’d had secrets kept from him—which, of course, was exactly what he was.
“How do I do it?”
“Close your eyes. Cup my face and concentrate. The ways you work up a spell, or manipulate the elements. The way you did when you stopped my car just now. But instead of doing something, you just picture my face—my…well, anything about me—and the energy will transfer.”
“I don’t…want to…give you something I don’t mean to.”
“You mean dark energy?”
He dodged her eyes, said softly, “Yeah.”
“Then don’t. Don’t think about anything negative. Focus
on only the positive—the good things in life. On how you feel. And don’t, well…try not to think of me in a negative way.”
He smiled. “Like I should picture you on Black Mountain instead of, say, on the Boardwalk mocking me for my love of flavored milkshakes, while planning to steal back your amulet?”
“I think that would be best,” she said weakly.
Sitting up straight, he held his arms out, rubbing his hands together like he was trying to create fire, which he would, incidentally, if he kept at it. Tiny red sparks and willows of smoke appeared in the dark cave. Then he took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut and bent over her. Before he cupped her face, he said, “Blow on my hands…I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her eyes were full and round when she let out the softest of sighs and then when the cold hit his palms he shivered all over. And then his hands were on her face and he did what she told him to do. He saw her asleep on the rock beside the cliff that overlooked the sea—sunset bathing her body in its rosy glow. He saw her open her luminous eyes, her smile bright as they walked together in the straw-colored grass. Even though she’d warned him not to, he saw her when she was critical, too—when her brow furrowed, when she threw her hands on her hips in frustration. The way her body curved away when she didn’t know quite how to respond to him; the way her eyes tried to look away from his, but kept coming back. He saw her in every moment they’d spent together. Every tiny one.
What Lily didn’t realize, what he’d barely admit to himself, was that everything he felt for her was positive. Even the bad was good. There wasn’t a single part of her that he didn’t admire—that he didn’t find charming, irresistible. That he didn’t find brilliant and brave. Effervescent.
“I sort of think you’re awesome too,” she said, her voice back to its confident, teasing tone. She locked her eyes on his and sat up, rubbing the back of her head.
He started, a bit flustered. Coming out of that Lily-trance wasn’t something he could do quickly. The video frames in his mind kept rolling, like a movie trailer of Lily. A collage of photos and extreme emotions stuttered like an old film reel running out at a nickelodeon when he tried to make them stop coming.
Logan gave himself a moment. He rubbed his head, feeling a bit embarrassed to be speaking to her now. Could she See what he just saw? Did she know how he felt about her?
Witch's Brew - Spellspinners 1 (Spellspinners of Melas County) Page 9