Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem Book 2)

by K. F. Breene

  “Mary Bell is a powerful mage,” Dizzy said as Callie strutted toward the food table, where an older woman hovered indecisively over a plate of shrimp. “She has done some truly great spell work in the years we’ve known her.”

  Mary Bell’s eyes sparkled as she surveyed me. “You don’t care for any of that, do you, child?”

  I jerked straighter, wondering what my face was showing. “I do, of course! I really do!” I needed to tone down my forced enthusiasm.

  The older woman chuckled softly. “I have never met a powerful mage that wasn’t also ambitious. They always want to know how they can better their position. The amount of knowledge I can offer you has exponentially increased.”

  Dizzy and I both shifted, in opposite directions, and I could tell we were equally confused.

  Mary Bell picked up on it. “You see, I thought you’d want to talk about unique spells, ancient relics, and whatever else you might pry out of my dementia-ridden grasp.”

  “Good grief,” I whispered, fidgeting with the neck of my dress.

  “I didn’t realize you had dementia,” Dizzy said conversationally, and somehow, when he said it, it didn’t sound quite so socially awkward. I needed to learn that trick.

  “I don’t have dementia,” Mary Bell said brusquely, and an edge crept into her voice that had my small hairs rising. “But most younger people like Penny don’t realize that. They see an old woman with a stoop and a smile and assume she is two seagulls shy of a flock.”

  “Seagulls…right…” Dizzy drew out the words.

  “But were they to stop talking and listen, they would learn that I possess a wealth of knowledge from being a dual-mage near the top of my discipline, from traveling the world and battling the wicked. They might stop their reductive thinking that magic itself is good or evil.” She raised a gnarled finger. “When it comes to magic, the perceived nature of the spell itself is not what matters—it is the intent with which the mage uses the spell. There is no inherent right and wrong. No light and dark. There is just magic, and how we manipulate it to serve our own ends. After all, sometimes one must commit darker deeds to ensure the greater good.”

  “The view on magic is true enough, but the darker deeds issue…” Dizzy waggled his hand and moved his head from side to side, as though debating the legitimacy of her statement.

  I, however, was in rapture. It sounded exactly like something Emery would say. I liked the image of a fat, gray, fuzzy line cutting through the light and dark of magic. Nature would exist there in the middle, harsh and brutal, serene and bountiful. Life ending in death. Death creating life.

  “Yes.” Mary Bell’s stare held mine. “Penny is not the mage I expected to meet tonight. How refreshing. I myself was a headstrong, entitled youth…I only wish I had started the journey as unburdened by hubris as she is. It wasn’t until everything was stripped from me—my love, my youth, my strength—that I learned what was truly important.”

  “Hm.” Dizzy nodded, but I could see he was probably back to thinking of dementia. He smiled and stepped away, holding out his arm so that I might join him. “Thank you, Mary Bell, for coming.”

  “She battled wicked people?” I asked in a hush as we made our way to a group of men and women sitting around one of the tables.

  “I didn’t actually know her then. I did hear that she and her dual-mage partner were always described as a wild pair. They got into lots of trouble. Dabbled in the dark arts once or twice.” He slowed and turned a little before we reached the table. “She is on the straight and narrow now, but be careful what you take away from speaking with her.” He met my eyes and held them. “There is a side to magic that can corrupt the soul.”

  2

  A couple hours into what had become the longest, most name-riddled night of my life, I was standing with Callie as she trundled through the same conversation we’d had over and over since the beginning of the evening.

  “We’re just going over the basics right now,” Callie said to Aileen, a pudgy, middle-aged woman with a perma-smile. Even when her brow furrowed, she still smiled. It was the strangest thing. “She didn’t even know that vampires existed a year ago, let alone how to create a spell.” They laughed as though that was the most absurd thing either one of them had ever heard. “But we’ll get there.”

  “What spells and lessons are you starting with?” Aileen asked, and I clenched my jaw so I didn’t mouth Callie’s response, which I knew would be exactly the same as the last five times I’d heard it.

  But before she could recite the tediously familiar words, a man’s voice sounded from behind us.

  “Callie Banks, long time, no see.”

  Callie stiffened and a delighted grin crept up her face. She didn’t glance back, and her tightening fingers on my arm said I shouldn’t either.

  An imposing presence moved up along my side, a hair too close for comfort.

  “John. How lovely of you to make it.” Callie turned slowly, a move that spoke of having the upper hand. In what, I didn’t know.

  John, standing with a slightly puffed-out chest, showered us with a charming smile. His teeth glittered, so white that I nearly squinted.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said. “Great to see you again.” He smiled down at Aileen, who giggled dramatically.

  Confused by Aileen’s girly reaction, I couldn’t help but frown as I studied him. With a broad nose to match his wide face, a chin that was trying to hide from the world, and a hairline that was running from the chin, he wasn’t anything special. But even Callie had sparkles in her eyes, relishing his presence. Others in the room, girls and guys alike, were glancing his way fervently, like he was some sort of celebrity.

  What was I missing? Did mages truly value power this much?

  “And you must be Penelope Bristol,” John said, his smile just a little sly.

  “Yes. Hello.” I stuck out my hand, and he took it gently, his palm smooth and soft, the opposite of Emery’s.

  I gritted my teeth and glanced away, pushing the thought from my head. I couldn’t very well get over him if I kept mentally bringing him up. I spied Veronica in the corner talking to some older man with long white hair encircling a shiny bald spot on the top of his head. She glanced over and saw me before raising her eyebrows, asking if I needed saving.

  Hold that thought, Veronica.

  “You’re a natural, did I hear that right?” John asked, bending a little to recapture my gaze.

  “That’s what they tell me.” I shrugged. “I’m new to all this.”

  “So you don’t really know if you have enough power to be a natural?”

  “She doesn’t, but I do,” Callie said, stepping closer. “She kept pace with the Rogue Natural. He was the one who first declared her a natural. He would know.”

  “Or maybe he was just telling a beautiful woman what she wanted to hear.” John’s smile was kind, but his tone made me want to punch him.

  “I’m not interested in defining my power level,” I said, ready to scooch away. “I just want to learn how my magic works, then get better at it.”

  “A mage who doesn’t want to reap the rewards of being the best in the business?” John rolled back onto his heels and looked around the room incredulously. Everyone within earshot chuckled, sharing the joke. Callie’s face reddened, and I couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment for me, or anger at his joke.

  As usual tonight, I’d missed the punch line.

  “I assume you don’t mean rewards as in being able to do more advanced spells,” I said, “since my outlook would have no bearing on that. So what type of rewards would I get just by being a natural?”

  He looked around the room again (his audience) like I was daft. “You’d be the best in the room, for one.” He lifted his eyebrows at Aileen, who giggled like a schoolgirl while nodding knowingly. “You’re new to all this, but eventually you’ll come to realize the importance of respect. Position. Authority.”

  “I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you before,”
I said without thinking, connecting the dots. “You can’t be the best in the room when Callie and Dizzy are present.”

  Shocked silence fell over the room. John’s eyes narrowed and his face flushed, anger brewing below the surface. I’d stripped away his varnish.

  This was the wrong way to make allies. I knew I’d be terrible at this.

  I opened my mouth to apologize, but he was already talking.

  “That problem will be solved when I find someone worthy to be my dual-mage partner,” he said in a low tone, the challenge to Callie clear.

  She bristled and squared off with him. Prickles of anticipation rolled across my skin. The room held its breath.

  I looked for magic to rise around us, weaving into a spell. I waited for the intent of the spell to give its purpose away.

  That failing, I looked for a capsule dug out of a pocket. Something.

  The two mages stared at each other. Soft jazz played in the background.

  And then it occurred to me.

  They couldn’t do a danged thing. Neither had a satchel (no one did—there must’ve been a rule against it at a gathering), and I was sure neither could fight physically. For one, Callie was too old. But also, John’s hands were too thin and his body too gangly. He probably hadn’t so much as slapped a younger sibling. They weren’t naturals, so they couldn’t weave spells from the elements around them like Emery and I could. They were at a standstill, which meant the two powerful mages had to be content with a hard-faced stare-down.

  Laughter bubbled up at the absurdity of it all. Of the swagger and wealth on display tonight. Of the ladies’ fawning over the frankly unimpressive John simply because he was powerful…under the right circumstances.

  We could hardly hope the circumstances would be “right” when the Mages’ Guild rolled through with their army of trained and attack-ready mages. We’d all be sitting ducks, completely vulnerable.

  Tears came to my eyes, and I couldn’t be sure if I was crying from fear or from the ludicrousness of the situation. Veronica was by my side in a moment, her hand on my arm.

  “Here, look.” I shook out of Veronica’s grasp and pulled elements—as Emery had always called them—from around the room. Magic rose from the dirt in the potted plant, the cotton in Aileen’s pants, the wool in the rug, and dozens of other sources. Colors and patterns streamed toward me before I organized them in a mass just above my head.

  I picked and chose what I needed and wove the strands together in a hasty, somewhat messy sort of weave. It was my version of a spell the Bankses had recently taught me, intended to dazzle or surprise.

  “What am I looking at?” John said, his charming facade back in place and his smile light and easy. The humor hadn’t returned to his eyes.

  “That’s just it, isn’t it?” I pulled the weave taut. “You can’t see what I’m doing. You can’t see the collection of elements hovering three feet in front of your face.”

  The last string pulled into place and I let the spell go. It spun and blossomed before ballooning out. An umbrella of flashing colors suddenly covered the room. Everyone oohed and ahhed, looking up with wide or blinking eyes. After going through colors of the rainbow three times, the umbrella winked out.

  Pop!

  The sound was jarring. Women screamed. Men jerked. John bent and threw his hands up over his head, dousing himself in his drink.

  “Magic should be marveled at and respected,” I said loudly, intending the whole room to hear. No doubt I was making things super awkward again. But I couldn’t help it. These mages, who’d been lucky enough to grow up with magic, were so ensnared in one-upmanship that they’d lost sight of what made magic great. “It’s natural, it’s beautiful, and it exists all around us. It should be revered.” I let the elements I’d collected dissipate back into the environment. “It shouldn’t be used for some sort of ego boost. If you aren’t good enough without magic, then you will never be good enough with it.”

  Mary Bell rapped her cane on the ground. “Hear, hear!” she shouted.

  “I don’t have as much exuberance as that woman, but I agree,” Veronica said, nodding. Eyebrows rose, and people looked back and forth between Callie and Veronica. John watched her closely as he straightened up.

  “Oh…” She pointed at herself. “I’m a nobody. My magic is in my pen. I’m just here for moral support and to make sure my friend doesn’t do anything hasty.”

  I turned toward John, but spoke loudly enough for the others to hear me. “I’m not sure what sort of proof you were looking for. Admittedly, Emery doesn’t care about pecking orders. Or sticking around—not that it’s given me a complex or anything. I could very well be less powerful than he said. But I don’t care about being the best. What I do care about is learning as much as possible. If I don’t, the Guild is going to capture me, probably punish me for ruining their compound, and then chain me to their organization. I’m just here to learn. Everything else is a sideshow act.”

  I paused for effect, but Veronica gave me a small shake before I could continue to spew word salad.

  “You should probably stop while you’re ahead,” she whispered, pulling me away.

  She had a fair point, though “ahead” was up for debate.

  “I don’t think I belong here,” I murmured as she led me to the kitchen. “I’m clearly not like these people. They all think I’m nuts.”

  “Callie and Dizzy don’t think you’re nuts—”

  “They think I’m naive, which is bad enough. Even if it’s still mostly true.”

  “—and that girl Reagan that broke you out of the broom closet in that old church doesn’t think you’re nuts—”

  “That’s because she’s insane.”

  “—so I really think you’re overreacting. Look.” She sat me down at the kitchen island and moved to the cabinet before taking out a bottle of tequila. It was a whiskey house, but I hadn’t developed a taste for it. I was just fine with hanging out in Margaritaville. “Had you been trained in all of this from an early age, you’d probably think exactly like they do. It is a learned social structure, and it feels good to be at the top of it. But because you’ve never fit into any social structure…at least not near the top, or in the middle…or kind of even at the bottom—”

  “What if I don’t want to fit in?”

  “Then I can stop lying, because as much as I hope you’ll fit in, I’m not sure I actually believe it.”

  I blew out a breath as she pulled out a bottle of fresh-squeezed lime juice and a shaker. Callie didn’t believe in pre-made margarita mixers.

  “Emery and I fit together.” I put my elbow on the counter and leaned my cheek against my fist. “He thought my quirks made me a better mage. Callie and Dizzy are trying to iron them out.”

  Veronica grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t know what to say about that. I mean, your mom tried to iron out your quirks throughout your life. She’s the biggest steamroller in the world, and it didn’t work.”

  “She wasn’t trying to teach me magic, though.”

  “No, she was trying to teach you to fit in.”

  “Yeah, well, consider the source.”

  Veronica burst out laughing. “This is true. She is a bit on the eccentric side.”

  “She’s a looney. Clearly that’s where I got it from.” I massaged my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Was this the right choice? Moving here, being a part of mage society, getting trained by Callie and Dizzy—”

  “Yes. And do you know how I know that?”

  “How?”

  “Your mother stayed in Seattle to passively spy on the Guild, and she left you in their care.” Veronica poured the margarita into a glass. “There is no way she would’ve done that if this wasn’t the absolute best thing for you. Maybe the only thing for you.”

  “True.” I sipped my drink and my face instantly contorted, my eye squeezing shut. “You didn’t get that drink quite right.”

  “No?” She tasted it and jerked back. “Definitely not, no. Man, I th
ought I was better at making these.” She dumped the contents back into the shaker. “Anyway, you don’t have to fit in, but you should make friends. Acquaintances, at the very least.”

  “True.” I slumped. “Which means I should go back out there and apologize.”

  “Yeah, probably. Though that guy had it coming. I mean, what sort of douche planet did he come from? Oh, and he wants to be—”

  “Knock, knock.”

  Veronica froze mid-rant with wide eyes and an open mouth. We both snapped our faces toward the archway to the kitchen, where John stood with his charming, toothpaste-commercial smile. “Penny, got a minute?”

  Veronica shot me a what should I do? glance.

  “It’s okay,” I said softly, clasping my fingers in front of me.

  “Right.” Veronica set the mixer on the counter next to my drink. “I’m probably needed out there, anyway. For some reason.”

  “I just wanted to apologize,” John said after she stalked from the room with a straight back. “It sounds silly, but you get caught up in all the politics when it comes to this stuff, you know?”

  I didn’t, so I chanced a smile.

  “You get into the upper levels of magic, and people start expecting certain things from you.” He peered into the shaker. “Oh. Here.”

  “No, it’s—” But he was already pouring the still-unsweetened contents into my glass. I chanced another smile. “Great. Thanks.”

  “Your perspective is fresh.” He paused for a beat, and it seemed like he was chancing his own smile that he clearly didn’t feel. “I like it.” He pushed the glass forward. “Anyway, I get where you’re coming from. And I believe you. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes, right? You made magic without having any ingredients in your hands. Unless you were holding a casing I couldn’t see…” His voice drifted away and his eyes delved into mine, searching. A moment later, he laughed. “Just kidding.” He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

  Veronica was right, this guy was definitely from a douche planet of some sort, but I still needed to make friends and somehow immerse myself into the magical world. He had power and knowledge—he could learn to fight. And would have to, because I’d plop him down on the front line when the Guild charged me.