"Here's the full decree of Magical Law that was set down. No magic until fifteen, nonmagicals not bound by marriage or birth are not to be told, and the removal of specialties, like Warriors, among more details."
"'No one shall use dragon blood for anything other than healing?'" I pursed my lips. "I don't think I want to know."
"It's actually a fascinating account of the history of that time," Gavon said, admiring his book. "Would you like it?"
I glanced down at the pages, yellowed with age, and I salivated, just a little. "I couldn't. I'm not even finished with the first book you gave me."
"I insist," he said, sliding it over. "The primer is a little dry. This, at least, has some excitement."
I placed my hand on the book and glanced up at him. "You aren't dying, are you?"
"I'm sorry?" he said, taken aback.
"You've given me some expensive, rare books. This one looks like it was written during the seventeenth century…" I gauged his skin tone, his thick hair. Didn't look like he had cancer.
"I assure you, I'm perfectly fine," he said. "But I've read both this book and the other many times. The knowledge in them is useless to me. Books are meant to be read, are they not?"
They were, but I also knew that reading this book wasn't going to get me very far. I needed someone like Gavon to show me what the hell I was doing.
"Hey, so…" I shifted. "Can we talk again tomorrow?"
His face shifted for a moment, and I was afraid he would say no. Instead, he forced a smile and said, "Absolutely."
8
Gavon was obviously telling me the abridged, G-rated version of the Separation.
The book had been written by one of John Chase's seven sons, and he'd gone into painstaking detail—from the lives lost at each battle and skirmish to the minutes from each of the Council meetings. One event that stuck out in gory, graphic detail was the account of the great potion-maker massacre in May 1692. Riley and his faction had obtained a list of all the potion-makers in the village and marked them for death. They took out almost two hundred people in one night, including fifty children. Knowing that Nicole would've been one of his targets, I was very glad that Riley and his idiots had been banished to the other world.
But, in my opinion, the Council of Danvers went a little overboard in preventing the recurrence of such a traumatic event. Some of the rules didn't really apply to me, especially as they related to potion-making, but there was a really big one that confused the hell out of me: No more specialties. All the Warriors, Healers, Empaths, Potion-makers, Charmers, Enchanters—they lost their unique magic and became the mishmash of powers that I had. The Council said it was to prevent another Guild of Warriors from rising, one which could wreak havoc like Riley's did.
So then why were my sisters a healer and a potion-maker? The only thing I could think of was that perhaps, over the four hundred years since it was first enacted, the council's decrees had become less potent.
"Whatcha doing in here?" Nicole asked, walking into the kitchen. As usual, her eyes danced everywhere except the spelled book on the table.
I opened my mouth to ask about the Separation, but that might invite more questions about how I'd suddenly become so knowledgeable about magical stuff. Nicole was usually on my side, but she also wasn't above telling on me. And somehow, I didn't think Jeanie would approve of me meeting with a strange guy in a park to practice magic out in the open.
"Just thinking about stuff," I said, after a few minutes of working my jaw.
"Uh-huh. What kind of stuff?" Nicole asked with a genuine smile.
"Like…do you have a job?"
Nicole quirked a brow. "What kind of a question is that?"
"I mean, you say you do, but with magic—"
"Yes, I have a job," Nicole said with a laugh. "As do Jeanie and Marie. And if you want to save for college, you might want to think about getting one soon, too."
She pulled one of the three barstools from the middle island over to the fridge with a loud scrape. I winced and asked, "What are you doing?"
"Getting the big pot down."
My heart leaped to my throat. "Are you gonna make another potion?"
Another quirked brow. "I was going to make dinner. Feeling like some beef stew tonight."
I closed my eyes and released my magic, finding the pot in the cabinet and retrieving it. It was heavier than I anticipated, and fell out of my hands, clanging loudly on the floor.
"Lexie, really," Nicole said, climbing off the stool and taking the pot I sheepishly offered to her. "You can't just…use magic whenever you feel like it."
I frowned and sat back down on the stool.
"I'm sorry," she said after a moment. "That was really great, what you did. Just be more careful. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
"How is summoning a pot out of the cabinet going to hurt me?" I asked, pointedly. "And how am I supposed to know what to do if no one will help me?"
"Jeanie's working on Gram," Nicole said, as if that were a real answer. "And in the meantime…just do little things."
I was about to remark that summoning was about as basic as it got, per the primer, but neither she nor Jeanie knew about it. Instead, I asked, "Who taught you how to make potions?"
She flushed a little, then turned to retrieve the carrots from the fridge. "No one did. I don't make them, really. The calming draught was just a fluke." She placed the bag of carrots on the counter and half-smiled. "Want to help me peel?"
"Can I try to use magic?"
She sighed. "Be very careful."
I closed my eyes and released my magic. The carrots sat in the plastic bag, their skins connected to the flesh of the vegetable. I could almost see the molecular connections, and severed them at the same time.
"Shit, Lexie!" Nicole screamed, dropping the bag that had burst into purple flames.
"Sorry! Sorry!" I cried. "Let me try to—"
"Don't do anything else!" Nicole screamed, throwing the bag into the pot and tossing the lid on top of it. After a moment, she lifted the pot and the flames had disappeared.
For a few moments, we stared at each other as the air increasingly smelled of burnt plastic.
"I'm sorry…" I said quietly.
"Just…go to your room," Nicole said. "And don't use any magic until Jeanie or Marie get home."
Unsurprisingly, Jeanie came to give me a long lecture about the dangers of using magic unsupervised.
"Well, I was supervised," I said. "Nicole was—"
"Nicole is a potion-maker," Jeanie said, although she lowered her voice to a whisper. "If you decide to blow up the house—"
"I thought you said she has magic." Memories of the Separation and James Riley came bubbling to the surface, as did Gavon's mention of prejudices.
"She does," Jeanie said, sitting down on my desk chair. "But it's different from yours. So you can't practice magic unless Marie or I am here."
I stared at her. "You can't be serious. You're barely home as it is, and Marie would think it was funny if I ended up killing myself."
"I'm barely home because I'm trying to convince Gram to let you come up to the compound," Jeanie said. "And it's taking a lot more convincing than I thought it would."
"Yeah, so." I folded my arms over my chest. "What's that all about, hm?"
"Gram's got her reasons, and she's the boss, so we have to do what she says."
There was one thing I was definitely sure of: the more I heard about Gram, the less eager I was to see the woman again. Especially since it was obvious she wasn't eager to see me.
I went to school the next day in a funk, annoyed by my still machete-like magic and the lack of understanding from Jeanie and Nicole. My locker took three tries to open, thanks to Callista and Joel fighting right in front of it. Ms. Benoit assigned a mind-numbing set of exercises in French and chemistry literally made zero sense to me. Then I got to English and realized I hadn't prepared anything for class, and Ms. Grace kept calling on me, as if she enjoyed seei
ng my deer-in-the-headlights look. I had to eat lunch inside thanks to a downpour that ended just as my lunch period did.
Then, in graphic design, I spent half an hour working on a texture on a font, only to have the program crash and realize I hadn't saved jack. That was when I noticed my nail beds glowing purple, and when I went to grab the mouse to salvage my project, I shorted out the computer.
So when I stormed out to Marie's car, I just knew she'd do something to piss me off because it was that kind of day. The only thing that kept me from blowing up her car was knowing I was going to have another chat with Gavon. Maybe he'd teach me those transport spells I was reading about so I'd never have to ride with Marie again.
A twittering of laughter drew my attention. Marie and Charity were walking arm-in-arm, bright-eyed and excited. I groaned; Charity was the last person I wanted to be stuck in an enclosed space with. If I were being honest, I wanted to ask Marie why Gram hated me so much. Marie might just tell me the truth, out of spite.
Neither noticed me, so I climbed into the backseat and listened to their inane conversation. Marie'd bombed another test, but so had Charity. They talked about their favorite TV show that had aired the night before, squealing and gasping as they recounted every second of the show. I was sure Marie would watch it twice more before the next one aired. She was such an idiot.
"Lexie." Marie's sharp tone made me jump and I stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were a warning. But why?
Then I heard it—the cracking and popping sounds coming from my hands. My magic was gathering in the center of my palms, swirling into an orb—
"Lexie!"
I glanced up at Marie and remembered that Charity was in the car with us. I inhaled and exhaled, closing my eyes and willing the magic to disappear.
The car lurched to a stop, and I opened my eyes. To my horror, my magic hadn't disappeared, but was now spinning rapidly in the palms of my hands. I glanced at Marie, terrified, but she was talking to Charity.
"Sorry, you gotta get out here," Marie said. "I forgot I have to take the idiot to the doctor today."
"But I thought—?"
"Bye, Charity."
"Marie, this isn't my house—"
"Bye, Charity."
Charity made a disgusted noise, but grabbed her things and got out. Before I could say anything to Marie, she stomped on the gas and we zoomed away from Charity, peeling around the corner toward the house.
"Put your damned magic away!" Marie snarled at me.
"I can't!" I cried.
The car screeched to a halt in our driveway and she stormed around the other side of the car, ripping open the door and pulling me, and my purple, swirling hands, out by the scruff of the neck. We were inside the house in two seconds, and Marie tossed me onto the couch.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"W-wrong with me?" I cried, looking at my hands. "Wrong with me? I have no idea what I'm doing!"
"Then just stop using your magic!"
"I can't!"
She let out a groan of frustration. "Yes, you can, just stop thinking about it and do it! This isn't rocket science."
"Obviously not, if you can do it."
That was the wrong thing to say, as Marie's face grew red and blotchy under her makeup. I knew I'd crossed the line, but I didn't care.
"I thought magic just existed in the movies! I didn't know I could summon stuff or conjure things or that there were things like healers and potion-makers and—" I almost said 'the Separation,' but I stopped myself. "And if I do or don't do something, I have no control over it."
"Well, get control over it."
Something snapped in the back of my mind and the strangest feeling of déjà vu came over me. I'd been arguing with someone about magic at some point, or maybe I'd just been arguing, but I'd been angry like this. My magic was begging to be released, to act on its own, so I released it and the feeling multiplied. I was hyper-aware of everything around me, from the way my magic crackled around me to the sound of Marie's heartbeat to the white magic that surrounded her.
White? I remember a different color…
"Lexie, I mean it. Put your magic away."
She sounded afraid, and it made my power grow more frenzied beneath my skin. I heard crunching of gravel, I smelled the sea, I saw a flash of lightning. The way he'd sounded as he taunted me, expecting me to lie down and die. The delicious knowledge that I would end him, even if it ended me too. The guilt of knowing I'd be leaving them behind.
The purple light glowed so bright I was nearly blinded. The recoil of the blast sent me back a few steps, before the world tilted and I fell to my knees, dizzy and lightheaded. I swooned on my hands and knees for a moment, waiting for the sickness to pass. When the world stopped spinning, I realized I no longer heard my sister yelling at me. Slowly, I lifted my head, and my heart stopped.
The whole living room wall was destroyed, the drywall broken and crumbled, the insulation hanging from the splintered studs. I could see straight into the kitchen, which was black and burning.
What I didn't see was Marie.
"M-Marie?" I whispered, inching closer to the pile of rubble that used to comprise our living room wall. "M-Marie? A-are you okay? Marie, I'm so…"
I saw her pale hand hanging limply from beneath the rubble. A scream left my mouth and I furiously pulled off the pieces of wall until I found her. She was bleeding from the head, her face black with soot and ash.
"Marie?" I whispered, brushing the dust off of her perfect face. "Marie, I'm so…Marie…" I began to cry.
I'd killed my sister.
I stood up, looking around frantically.
Then I ran out the door, headed straight for the park.
9
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."
I'd never run faster in my entire life. I was fairly sure that my magic was pushing my legs to move faster than was actually possible, because I made it to the park in record time. I began to wonder how I'd even contact Gavon, I didn't have his phone number or email address—
"Alexis, what's wrong?"
I turned around, knowing my face was red and tear-streaked, and heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank God."
"Are you all right?" he asked, rushing forward to grip my shoulders. "Is everything—"
"I killed my sister."
He stared at me. "What?"
"I sent her through a wall and I think I killed her!" I broke into ferocious tears, my wails echoing into the park.
"Take a deep breath," he said calmly. "And start from the beginning."
I snorted back a glob of snot and wiped my face. "I was having a bad day and Marie was being mean and this spell just happened and—"
"What kind of a spell?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. It was all purple and…" I swallowed and stared into nothing. "And it came out of me and it sent her flying through a wall and Gavon, I killed my sister!"
"Deep breaths," Gavon cooed. "I'm sure you didn't kill her. She's probably just hurt. Nothing a quick healing potion won't fix."
"H-healing potion?"
"Do you want me to go check on her?"
I nodded. "T-thank you."
"Let's go then."
The walk back from the park went a lot slower, or perhaps I was noticing every step because I dreaded what I'd find when I got back to the house. Even more concerning was how much a little voice inside me wanted to use that spell again.
"What did I do?" I asked quietly.
"Hm?"
"That…spell," I said, remembering how it had felt, how expertly I'd wielded it. Nothing—magical or otherwise—had ever felt so right. "It just…it came out."
"Magic does that sometimes, especially when you're emotional. A calm magical is—"
"A useful magical," I recited.
Gavon didn't say any more, and I kept silent. I didn't want him to think I was insane, though he'd never given me any evidence that he'd react that way. There was also another fear—I had e
njoyed doing that spell, and that spell hurt people…so what did that make me?
We rounded the corner to my street and I stopped dead in my tracks.
Both Nicole and Jeanie's cars were in the driveway.
"Uh-oh," I said. They were home three hours early. Had they felt my explosive power? Had they felt Marie's life end?
"I'd offer my help, but between your aunt and your sister, I think they have it covered," he said, taking a few steps forward. "I'm sure she's fine, Lexie."
But it was no longer the fear of killing my sister that spiked my pulse. I'd broken Jeanie's first rule of using magic. I was pretty sure I was about to walk into World War III.
"Coming?" Gavon asked.
"Jeanie's gonna kill me," I whispered.
"It was an accident, yes?"
"I…" Was it an accident? I'd never felt so in control before. I'd wanted to see where it would go. But I certainly didn't want Marie dead. "Yeah, it was an accident."
"Then I'm sure they'll understand."
I shook my head. Jeanie was already on edge with me, and after my mishap the night before, Nicole was too. When they came home and saw the house destroyed and Marie… I hiccuped and wiped my face.
Gavon put his hands in his pocket and we stood there for a moment. "Would you like to do another stroll round the block?" he offered. "Delay the inevitable."
I nodded and we turned to walk the other way.
After a moment, my thoughts became too much and I blurted, "Ifeelsobadbutitfeltsogood."
"What was that?" he asked, looking down.
"I said," I sighed, ashamed of myself, "I feel so bad, but...it felt so good."
"What, to get the best of your sister?"
"No, to do whatever it was," I said, squinting up at the afternoon sky. "It felt like I'd done it before." I chewed on the inside of my lip. "Have I done it before?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"So why did it feel so good?"
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