Death Magic

by May Dawney

The world beyond the Veil is made up of worlds, stacked one atop the other. There is the white of one’s own mind, followed by the Veil which none seem to be able to enter. Beyond the Veil is the darkness, and then come the worlds I once chased the boy’s spirit through.

  I think their number is infinite. Exploring them is dangerous work, and I have not wandered to many, but those I did visit left me breathless.

  Some provided me with a new spirit body like that of its inhabitants, in some I was contained in an echo of my own shell. In others again, I was just spirit and largely invisible to the beings who inhabit that world.

  I have seen beings beyond comprehension, who live in worlds that defy everything we consider truth. It’s hard to return to one’s shell after seeing all the wonders the Otherworld holds and realizing that our world has none of them.

  – Simon Magus, “The Fundamentals of Magic”

  CLAIRE PUSHED THE door shut with her behind and leaned against the wood. Her bones ached with exhaustion, but one look at the bed assured her that her racing mind would keep her awake even if she could somehow get warm under the blankets.

  Right. Chores then.

  There were a few tasks she had been meaning to complete, but that she hadn’t gotten around to yet. First and foremost was the necessity to hunt down the laundry hamper that was probably in her room—it turned out to be under the sink in the bathroom—because she refused to end up in a situation where she had dirty underwear to dispose of but nothing to dispose of it in. That would have left her wide open for the hugely embarrassing possibility of Alena seeing said dirty underwear and that just…no.

  Next, she put the clothes Alena had bought her away in the wardrobe, moved a lamp to the side of her bed so she wouldn’t have to read with the tunnel lights on, and tucked into the book Mr. Senna had given her. It was thin, but even with a racing mind and grim determination not to fail Mr. Senna’s expectations, she struggled to stay awake to read it all.

  Magus, the author of the book, was an odd man, and she wondered if he’d actually existed. He must have, right? Mr. Senna wouldn’t have given her fiction to read.

  Again, she really missed her phone. She wanted to Wiki Magus, and talk to Bree, who must be worried by now. Claire went radio silent a lot, but rarely longer than a day. She had no idea how she was going to keep this huge secret from her best friend for longer than a week at most.

  Well, if Alena had kept her phone, she wouldn’t have had a choice, but she really didn’t want Bree to worry.

  Her parents might be worried as well, at least, if they had tried to call or text. They didn’t talk often, but once or twice a week, definitely. Even with the message she’d sent her mom, she’d start to worry eventually, right?

  Claire looked around the room—her room, she had to get used to calling it that. If they ever let her go into London, she’d buy some touristy things, and knick-knacks. She could make the place more her own. Even if she had to stay only a few months, it would be worth it to have a space she felt comfortable in.

  She checked the clock in the bookcase for the time. Two a.m. Geesh. She should be asleep, but there was just no way. It was too silent, too cold, too alien. Her brain was full of thoughts about wild mages and wars and Alena.

  Maybe she should just close her eyes and pray she would sink into oblivion until someone needed her. Was that healthy? Probably not. The thought of leaving the comfort of her blanket and her room didn’t appeal either.

  Maybe there was another book by Magus in the library, and maybe it had more information about the little boy whose body Magus had taken away from the site of his manifestation. He had to have been a wild mage like Ania, right? That was worth the trip, right?

  She sighed and slid out from her blanket-and-pillow cave. The cold that always radiated off the walls attacked her right away. She hurried to put her sneakers on and get into motion. At least she’d be warmer.

  She only made it down the hallway a couple of doors before she heard raised voices, Alena’s amongst them. She shouldn’t listen, of course, but there was no one in the hallway, and the other voice was Ellen’s. Ellen, who hated her guts, it seemed. It wouldn’t hurt to listen just until she knew it wasn’t about her, right?

  Claire stopped and leaned against the wall beside the door. She held her breath and listened.

  “…and you know what?” Alena’s voice was raised.

  “No, but you’ll undoubtedly tell me.” Ellen sounded as calm and condescending as ever.

  “I’m done. I’m done with the fuck-and-run, I’m done being your damn sex toy! Go bother someone else. Leave me out of it from now on!”

  Claire’s heart arrested. They were sleeping together? Crestfallen, Claire tried to wrap her mind around the image of tough, passionate Alena sharing a bed with cold, calculating Ellen, but failed. She couldn’t picture it, and quite frankly, she didn’t want to. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, but hope soared from the ashes just seconds later.

  Alena was into women.

  “Who says I’m not ‘bothering’ someone else already, hm?” Ellen’s jab pulled Claire back to the present. To the fact that she was standing in front of a door behind which people were having a very private conversation. She shouldn’t be here!

  “You know what? Fuck you!”

  The door was yanked open and there was nowhere for Claire to hide. She turned her head away from the door and squeezed her eyes shut. Perhaps she had magic—the tests hadn’t come back yet, so it was possible. Perhaps she could become invisible.

  “You say that now, but you will be back. You always come back.”

  The words washed over Claire from inside the room. She balled her hands into fists and prayed.

  “I w—” Alena fell silent.

  “Please, please, please…” Claire tried to make herself disappear full force.

  “Claire?” Alena sounded shocked, but not angry.

  She dared to open her eyes and glanced up. “I didn’t hear anything.” She wanted to kick herself right away.

  Alena stood in the doorway, turned fully toward her.

  Ellen appeared behind her and folded her arms across her chest. She smirked. “Oh. An audience. How novel.”

  “Shut up.” Alena grabbed Claire’s upper arm and yanked her away. “Come on.”

  Claire stumbled, but urged her feet under her to keep her from falling over as Alena all but dragged her along. She looked back and caught Ellen still grinning before she waved and shut the door behind her. Claire turned her head back. “I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to overhear!”

  Alena ignored her. She stared dead ahead, jaw clenched. Once they reached Claire’s door, she pushed it open and dragged Claire inside before she let go, closed the door, and hit the light switch. She was in her face in an instant. “Not a word. Not a word to anyone about this.”

  Claire nodded. “O-Of course not. I-I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to hear. It just…it happened. I was there. I—”

  “I mean it, Claire.”

  “I promise!” She fought tears and couldn’t stop shaking. She hated that Alena was mad at her even more than she hated the idea of her having a girlfriend that was not her. “I-I’m sorry you two broke up.”

  Alena’s eyes flamed. “We were never together. Get that through your head, okay? We were never together.” A breeze that couldn’t be there upset Alena’s clothes; it must be Alena’s magic bubbling to the surface.

  “O-Of course.” Claire nodded.

  Alena shook her hair out and she stepped back. The breeze died down. “Fuck!” She slammed her hand against the door.

  “Um…”

  “What, Claire? What?” She whirled back around.

  Claire took a step back and drew her shoulders up to hide from the onslaught. “Um…can I do anything? Do you want to talk…about…it?”

  “No.” Alena groaned. “And no. Hell no.”

  “Okay.” Claire hesitated, then sat down on the bed. When Alena didn’t object, she ki
cked her shoes off and scooted up against the headboard. She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them while she stared at Alena.

  It took a minute at least for Alena to gather herself enough to exhale deeply and to turn her head to look at Claire. “I’m sorry.”

  Claire guided her chin onto her knees. The cold from the wall seeped into her skin. “That’s okay. Um, for what?”

  “Going off on you. Is your arm okay?”

  Claire checked her arm, but with two sweaters on, she couldn’t tell. “Yeah.”

  “I also didn’t mean to yell.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Alena watched her, then sat up and scooted backwards on the bed until her back hit the wall as well. She worked her bottom lip with her teeth and scratched at a spot on her jeans.

  Claire waited. She was good at waiting.

  “My father doesn’t allow relationships amongst Den members. And it’s not—Ellen and myself, we never…” She shrugged. “It just started happening, and she’d piss me off, and then it wouldn’t happen for a while.” She pursed her lips.

  Claire hated how even hearing Alena admit to that hurt her heart. She nuzzled deeper between her knees. “What about Nathan and Mai?”

  Alena chuckled. “They’re skirting around each other. I know Nathan got The Talk though.”

  That made Claire smile, despite the ache in her stomach. “Did you…did you and Ellen get The Talk?”

  “Of course.” Alena rested her head against the wall. “But she doesn’t care.” She chuckled at that. “It’s what I always liked about her. She doesn’t try to conform to anyone’s standards, but she can be really sweet…if she wants to.”

  “Sweet?” The word escaped before Claire could stop it. She pressed her mouth against her knees.

  Alena chuckled and nodded. She inspected her hands. “Yeah. Sweet. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.”

  Claire chose not to respond. Nothing good would come from it.

  “I meant it though.” She caught Claire’s gaze. “It’s over. There are too many times she isn’t sweet.”

  “Okay.”

  “Dad just can’t find out that it carried on this long. He’ll be pissed.”

  Claire didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t going to tell him, obviously, and she doubted anyone told Ellen what to do. She settled on something neutral, which she hoped would be perceived as supportive: “If he hasn’t found out yet, he probably won’t.”

  Alena hummed. “Yeah.” She shook her head. “Let’s hope.” She shot Claire a glance. “You really shouldn’t eavesdrop. Especially in a place like this, that can only get you into trouble.”

  Heat shot up to her cheeks. “I-I know. I’m sorry. I was just on my way to the library and I—”

  “It is what it is. Don’t sweat it, Alice.” She took a deep breath, then let it out. “Right. I need to go punch a bag. Or a wall. Will you be okay on your own?”

  “S-Sure!” Claire nodded. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just read—uh, sleep.”

  “We’ll need you in the morning, so yeah, do that. Rest up. There’ll be many more rabbit holes for you to go through soon.” Alena grinned, and almost managed to sell it as genuine. “Thanks for the talk.”

  “Again, so sorry.”

  “Forget about it—seriously. Forget all about it. It’s my mess to handle, and I’ll deal with it.” Alena scooted to the edge of the bed and got up. “Sorry to drag you into this.”

  “I think I did that myself.”

  “True. I won’t feel bad then.” She winked.

  Claire couldn’t help a smile. “I really am sorry.”

  Alena shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s fine. I mean, we’ll be spending more time together anyway, so it’s good if we get to know each other a bit.” She held her gaze and pursed her lips. “Your tests came back.”

  Claire’s heart skipped a beat.

  “No magic genes. You’re still not showing any signs of rejection. I have no idea why. I’ll keep trying to find that out. For now, all it means is that we can’t predict yet when you’re out of here. I hope that’s okay?”

  Alena’s smile resurrected the butterflies in her belly. “Y-Yeah. That’s okay.”

  “Good. Um, sleep well. I’ll wake you in the morning.” Alena headed toward the door. “If Ellen comes to you—”

  “I won’t say a thing.”

  Alena placed her hand on the door handle but didn’t push it down yet. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “It’s the least I can do after, you know?” She waved her hand around in an effort to encompass all the mess.

  Alena opened the door. “It’s fine. Good night, Alice.”

  “Bye. Oh, Alena?”

  “Hm?”

  Claire gathered her courage. “Maybe, instead of exercising, you should get some sleep too?”

  Alena shrugged. Her eyes gained a gleam. She raised a finger to her lips. “Shhh, I’m bending a Society rule and channeling some magic into staying awake. I’ll get some sleep eventually, but thanks for caring. I appreciate it.”

  Her blush returned with a vengeance. “S-Sure.”

  “Good night, Claire.”

  “Good night.” Claire waited for the door to close before she let her head fall back against the wall. Her heart still beat too fast and her palms were sweaty. She wiped them on her blanket.

  Her mind wasn’t even halfway caught up to what was happening around her. She had no idea what to think about Alena and Ellen together, but she liked the way Alena had confided in her. That, and she now knew Alena liked girls. Her cheeks stung with the force of her blush. At least she had a chance.

  A little one.

  Maybe.

  Probably not.

  But maybe.

  * * *

  Magus had written another book called “The Fundamentals of Magic,” and it was as short and dense as “In Search of Heaven.” The first line read “I am the Chosen One,” which had almost made her put the book down. At least, so far, the rest was somewhat less pretentious and his ideas about the Veil were interesting. Claire latched onto the words because they chased away all the things she didn’t want to think about. Alena things. War things.

  “The Fundamentals of Magic” seemed to have been written before “In Search of Heaven.” He seemed to have disproven some of the things in “The Fundamentals of Magic” in his follow-up book about the spirit boy.

  If she hadn’t been stuck in a small room, underground, without her cell phone, she probably wouldn’t have bothered with any of this stuff, but she was grateful for the distraction now. She was learning a lot, both about the Veil and a bit about herself as well.

  It was fascinating to find out that spirits seemed to house in bodies, and that upon death—or at least traumatic death—they were severed from it with both parts of the whole intact, just unable to come back together.

  She suspected that that was, on a less destructive and final scale, what happened when Madame Stravinsky took over her body. Claire’s spirit was pushed out, Madame Stravinsky’s spirit slipped in, and for the duration of the possession, Claire’s spirit slipped into the world beyond the Veil.

  Unlike Magus, however, Claire wasn’t aware of her time away from her body. She wondered if she would be able to change that somehow. Not because she wanted her body back but because, well, she was curious. She liked tests and data. Besides, if she was stuck here, she might as well entertain herself with some kind of task.

  The question was: how?

  Magus seemed to believe that whatever you willed into being in the Veil, came to fruition. Perhaps step one would be to will herself to stay conscious when Madame Stravinsky took over? Mom called it “her most endearing quality,” but Claire knew she was a bit of a pushover. She’d always submitted herself to the possessions, but perhaps she’d have more luck staying awake for the experience if she tried to fight them. Not too hard, obviously—she didn’t want to push Madame Stravinsky out or alert her to her presence—but enou
gh to maybe give her back a sense of control she’d been sorely without.

  Claire took notes. She had both books open, checked one against the other, and scribbled down her conclusions. It was good to be in “research mode” again. It’s what she liked most about college—absorbing information and trying to make sense of it, like puzzle pieces that only fit together in one very specific way. The thrill of connecting the pieces kept her pushing forward.

  She stretched her legs out along the bed and covered them up with her blanket. It would be really nice to talk to Bree right now, to tell her what had happened and what her conclusions were so far. Bree would poke holes in all her theories and make her explain how she’d landed on them. Claire would be frustrated about being questioned and embarrassed that she’d overlooked so many little things, and together, they’d push her research forward by leaps and bounds.

  Picturing the scene made her smile, but it didn’t alleviate the ache in her chest. She was lonely, and bored, and Alena was busy dealing with her own stuff—Ellen-shaped stuff. That thought only worsened the hollow ache.

  Claire craned her neck to check the clock. Three a.m.-ish.

  Great.

  She picked up the book again and settled more comfortably against the pillow. She was just going to have to resign to a life without sleep, at least until she’d adjusted to a life in a world of magic that was very much not her own.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A breakthrough! I have trapped the boy’s spirit! The process was complicated and delicate. I fashioned out of my own magic a hook into his energy. It is a similar process as creating a hook to keep my spirit tethered to my shell when I traverse beyond the Veil. Of course, the process is hard to put into words. It’s important to visualize clearly what the goal is. Any action taken beyond the Veil can only be achieved simply by considering it achieved. Of course, this is a trick beyond most mages, and I do not expect any to follow in my footsteps. Try at your own risk, I do not care.

  – Simon Magus, “In Search of Heaven; Treaties of the Veil”