The Cost of Magic

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The Cost of Magic Page 3

by S T G Hill


  ***

  Ellie hadn't felt this way since the first few wonderful weeks at Sourcewell Academy.

  To her, it was incredible that magic was real, that there was a whole world built around it.

  But this life, here with the Williamsons, was something truly magical. To her, at least. They took her shopping for clothes.

  Walt loved to cook. And he loved sharing what he cooked even more.

  They were both busy professionals, working over in Manhattan. But they'd also both arranged with their jobs so that they could take turns dropping Ellie off at school and then picking her up.

  They sent her off and picked her up with a hug. And a brown paper bag with lunch.

  Though for the first week Ellie still woke up each morning and stared around her room in shock, wondering why it wasn't her tidy chamber at Sourcewell. Or, much worse, the lumpy cot with its view of a garbage-filled alley in Mr. Fichtner's apartment.

  That faded, though.

  After school on Monday of her second week, when Brenda pulled her Lexus up to the front of the brownstone to drop Ellie off before taking the car to its normal spot in a private garage, Ellie didn't get out right away.

  "Something wrong?" Brenda said.

  "No," Ellie replied. Which wasn't exactly true. Ellie felt as though this was all a dream. It was too good to be true, and she expected to wake up from it at any moment. But she didn't say any of that.

  "So what is it, sweetie?" Brenda said. She wore a nice gray pantsuit, her work clothes.

  "Why don't you and Walt have a kid of your own?" Ellie said.

  Some part of her had suggested that she was just a replacement or loaner. That soon enough their real son or daughter would come back from some boarding school and Ellie would be off to her latest foster family.

  Brenda just smiled, though, "Walt and I, we can't have any children of our own. But we wanted to share this great life of ours with someone."

  Someone being me, Ellie thought. Hoped. She swallowed hard.

  "Now, why don't you run inside and when I get back in a couple minutes we'll see if Walt left any snacks in the fridge?" Brenda said.

  "Okay!" Ellie replied. Yesterday Walt had left a platter of cheesecake cupcakes on the bottom shelf of the fridge with a note that read, "One Each!"

  Brenda had winked and told Ellie to have a second when she saw Ellie eying them.

  She got out of the car and watched Brenda pull away down the street.

  "Hey there, mystery girl."

  Ellie knew that voice.

  She turned around, "Peter! What are you doing here?"

  Peter stood leaning against the wrought iron railing leading up to the Williamsons' front door.

  He maintained his pose, a crooked smile appearing across his face, "Just thought I'd check in on you. Make sure you're not getting into any trouble."

  Ellie went and leaned against the opposite section of railing, putting the stoop between them, "No trouble at all, actually."

  It was true. School was a bit of a struggle, but Brenda had bought her some new clothes and so the other students hadn't immediately identified her as a poor orphan girl.

  Peter took his time coming around his section of railing, and then he sat on the stairs just in front of where Ellie stood. "Wanna get into some?"

  "Some what?" Brenda said.

  Both Ellie and Peter looked at her, Peter with some alarm. Ellie found his discomfort adorable.

  Ellie offered Brenda a smile, "Some walking... If that's okay with you? Oh, by the way, this is Peter Pitarelli. His dad's the cop who found me."

  "I know who he is. They live a couple blocks over. You tell your father I want that Le Crueset dish back spotless!" Brenda took the first step up and put her hand on Peter's shoulder.

  "I'll tell him, but that doesn't mean it'll get done," Peter replied.

  Brenda raised an eyebrow at him, but her smile didn't fall, "Go, but be back before supper. And Peter, you'd better tell your dad if you want to stay for said supper."

  Ellie took a chance, her heart racing. She grabbed Peter by the hand and hauled him up from the stairs. She looked back at Brenda over her shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him!"

  Brenda nodded and went inside.

  "Prospect Park's not far," Ellie said.

  "I know. Hey, she's inside, you don't have to hold my hand anymore," Peter gave a light tug against her grip.

  They stopped. Ellie looked down and saw that she was still holding his hand just like he said. She dropped it like it burned. "Right."

  Peter rubbed at the back of his neck with his other hand, looking at anything but Ellie, "I mean... Unless you wanna keep holding it."

  "What..." do you mean? She meant to say, but her throat locked up first. Instead she socked him on the arm. "No, of course not. Come on, let's go."

  She really did want that walk. She needed something to spend all that nervous, buzzing energy in her stomach on.

  They got about halfway to the park, all the traffic noise from Flatbush reaching them, when they passed an alley between a dry cleaner and an Indian takeout joint.

  It was just another alley, loaded with garbage bins and old wood pallets and all the wonderful smells that accompanied those things, until Ellie and Peter walked by it.

  Ellie's skin prickled. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  Stop. It was less a word in her mind and more a direction or order.

  She stopped so fast that Peter went three steps farther on, still talking about some case or other his dad had, before he noticed.

  "Ellie? You okay?" Peter backtracked, frowning down at her.

  "Yeah," Ellie said. Her eyebrows knitted together into a frown and she squinted down into the dimness of the alley.

  That weird warning sensation didn't stop. But it wasn't a bad one, which she somehow understood.

  "Hey, you're freaking me out here," Peter scratched at the back of his neck again.

  Something rustled noisily in the dumpster closest to the mouth of the alley. All her senses fixated on it.

  She took a cautious step forward, not sure she could trust the judgment of whatever prognosticative ability she still had.

  The rustling got louder, more violent.

  "Probably a big rat," Peter said, "My dad's bud works for the city down in the sewers, says they get big as dogs down there."

  "And I'll bet he knows where all the alligators nest down there, too," Ellie shot back at him.

  Open it, the thought came to her. She wrinkled her nose from standing so close to the dumpster, which now shook and rattled on its wheels.

  She started reaching for the rusty metal door covering the big bin.

  "You shouldn't..." Peter said.

  Ellie ignored him. The feeling inside her grew. The one that told her she needed to open this bin.

  The edge of the lid was sticky with something. She scowled, but didn't let go. It took both hands to lift the angled door open.

  Inside, only darkness. And a cacophony of evil smells.

  Then something launched itself out at her. Something furry.

  It hit her in the chest, claws latching into her shirt. She stumbled backwards.

  "Ellie!" Peter started forward.

  Ellie held out a hand to stop him. She knew this particular bag of fur and claws. And it knew her, too.

  "How did you find me?" Ellie asked the pair of jade-green eyes peering up into hers.

  Peter stopped short, dark eyebrows drawn together. "Hey, those things have fleas and all sorts of crap."

  Ellie hugged the ball of fur closer to her chest. Pressure pushed at the back of her eyes. With Mr. Fichtner gone, she never thought that this moment would come.

  She wiped the back of her hand across he face, unable to keep from smiling. "It's okay, Chauncy never has fleas."

  Peter grasped some of the implications. He was the son of a cop, after all. "Brenda and Walt are never gonna let you keep him."

  ***

  Pet
er paused at the bottom of the stoop. "So let me get this straight, you know this cat?"

  "And he knows me!" Ellie replied. Chauncy purred in her arms, his body a warm ball against her chest. "Also, his name is Chauncy."

  "Right," Peter said, eyeing the cat, "Well hey, thanks for the walk I guess." He turned and started down the sidewalk.

  Chauncy looked up at her, caught her eye.

  "No! Stay for dinner. I have no idea what Walt's going to make tonight, but I know it'll be delicious!"

  Peter paused. "You sure? I mean, you probably want to get reacquainted with your friend there. You know, before Brenda tells you to leave him outside."

  "We'll see," Ellie said, "And yeah, I'm sure. Come on!"

  But she knew that Brenda and Walt would relent, even if they said no at first. She didn't know how she knew, only that she did.

  Whatever had happened to her in all those months hadn't taken all of her power away it seemed. Just most of it.

  I really am an ab now, aren't I?

  It didn't bother her so much anymore. Great magic, as Thorn told her, came with a great price. And she didn't think she wanted to pay it anymore. Not after the taste of what she'd had since getting back.

  Peter got the front door for her, her arms laden with cat, and they went inside.

  Ellie never noticed the watcher. The figure in the gray overcoat who loitered across the street, their eyes trained on the Williamson brownstone.

  Then again, no one else seemed to notice the figure either. Although Ellie could have, had she not ignored the signs.

  Chapter 6

  They let her keep Chauncy.

  Ellie let him down onto the floor and right away he pranced over to Walt, who sat on the couch in the living room with Brenda.

  "Nice kitty," Walt leaned over and scratched Chauncy behind the ears. Chauncy purred like an old lawnmower engine.

  There was almost no discussion. Brenda got Ellie to agree to feed him and keep him from destroying the furniture.

  All the while she watched her husband play with Chauncy, who stole one of Linda's hair elastics off the coffee table and then proceeded to cover it in cat spit.

  Later on, Brenda came up to Ellie's room. She put her hand on Ellie's shoulder and looked down at the textbook for US History open on her desk. "Walt hates cats."

  Ellie left her fingertip on the passage she was reading. "What? He didn't seem to hate Chauncy."

  Brenda nodded while her hand moved in slow circles between Ellie's shoulders. "I know. It's weird. Like the cat just charmed him right away."

  Ellie swallowed and looked back down at her textbook. It had seemed rather quick, just how fast they took to each other.

  But Ellie had done no magic. As far as she knew.

  Just one more great thing about this amazing life that she'd fallen into.

  Brenda crouched down beside Ellie's chair, her eyebrows knitting together, "Everything okay?"

  "Just fine," Ellie offered a tight-lipped smile, "Lots of homework is all." It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the reason for her sudden sadness.

  Brenda left her to her work. Ellie closed the textbook and went over to the window, where she stared out across the street at the brownstone opposite theirs.

  In the evening twilight, most of their neighbors turned on their lights.

  Chauncy made Ellie think about life with Mr. Fichtner. And she thought of the countless times she'd imagined reuniting with the cat while she stayed at Sourcewell.

  Are you guys still out there? she thought. She meant Thorn, Sybil, Arabella, Magister Cassiodorian. All of them.

  She had emerged from the alley just a couple weeks earlier, but already all of the felt like another lifetime. One that happened to a different girl.

  Besides, she thought, my magic still seems to be gone anyway.

  As thought to prove it to herself, she focused hard on the wick of the candle on her dresser. She willed it to ignite.

  She willed so hard a tension headache clutched at her skull.

  Her shoulder sagged when she gave in. She wanted to go see Chauncy again, so she left her room and flicked off the light as she went.

  Behind her, the wick of the candle glowed cherry red for a moment.

  The watcher, still in the deepening shadows across the street, saw.

  Saw and decided that it was time.

  Chapter 7

  "So what are you up to this weekend?" Peter shoved his hands into his jeans pockets when he asked the question.

  They walked beside each other across the street from Prospect Park, the treetops turning orange and yellow as fall deepened.

  Ellie hauled her backpack strap back up her shoulder, "I dunno. There's a test I have to study for. Why?"

  She thought she knew why. Excited little fingers tickled at the front of her stomach.

  Peter's cheeks flushed, "Uh, well, there's a couple shows at the theater I wanted to check out."

  Ellie played along. "Oh? Anything you think I'd like?"

  Peter stopped. "Well, that's the thing—"

  A figure detached itself from the shadows of the alley that they crossed.

  "Ellie."

  Her breath caught at the same time a strong fist squeezed her stomach.

  Her first thought was, No! Because she knew that voice and what that voice represented.

  "Hey, pal, who are you?" Peter asked, stepping between Ellie and the newcomer.

  "Nobody to you."

  "Thorn!" Ellie said, watching the two guys size each other up.

  Peter looked at Ellie, then back at Thorn, "You actually know this guy?"

  She could understand his incredulous tone. The last she'd seen Thorn, he'd been wearing the same plain sweatpants and shirt as she had in the Trial.

  Before that, he usually wore street clothes around Sourcewell. Today, he stood in front of them wearing a deep blue trench coat.

  That tickled at her memory.

  She pushed her way between the two guys and looked up into Thorn's face. "Have you been watching me?"

  "You're stalking her?" Peter said, sidestepping her, "I think we've seen enough of you, friend."

  Thorn's jaw worked, the powerful muscles in his temples shifting. "We don't have time for this."

  When he waved his hand, everyone and everything around them slowed to near stillness.

  Just like in the movie theater where they'd met.

  Peter stood with one finger jabbing at Thorn, his teeth clenched together.

  "Why are you here?" Ellie said, irritated that he would do that to her again.

  Thorn looked around the street, glancing at the park, at the traffic. "Why are you here, Ellie? It's been—"

  "Six months," Ellie finished for him.

  She looked at him more closely. It wasn't just the clothes that didn't match up with her memory.

  He himself looked different. Older. More than six months could account for. His face looked thinner, more angular than she remembered.

  He looked worn out.

  That left an uneasy stirring in Ellie's stomach.

  "What's that?" Ellie stepped closer to him, peering at his face.

  Thorn frowned and leaned back, "What are you talking about?"

  "It's a scar!" Ellie's eyebrows climbed up her forehead.

  The line appeared only faintly, beneath his left eye, as a streak of lighter skin.

  Thorn turned his head to the left to give her some side-eye. Or to try and hide the mark. She wasn't certain.

  "The others are waiting for us in the park, let's go," Thorn stepped around her and started for the park.

  Ellie spun to face him, but didn't follow, "What? Who?"

  So many questions. Questions she didn't realize she had. Questions she didn't think she'd get an answer to.

  Thorn stopped, his shoulders rising and falling with a heavy sigh, "So much has changed since you disappeared. We've been searching for you."

  Ellie took a step forward, ducking beneath Peter's accusing finger,
"I've been back a while now." She left the question unspoken.

  "The others wanted me to get you right away," he still didn't turn to face her.

  Ellie swallowed. "Why didn't you?"

  He looked over his shoulder, "Because you seem happy. But there're more important things than your happiness. Come with me. Now."

  It wasn't a request.

  Ellie balked. "No, I'm not leaving Peter behind. He'll think I've just disappeared!"

  Thorn turned around and looked more closely at Peter, who was a pointing statue, "He's a nil."

  Ellie remembered that term. What people in the magical world called those in the normal world whose magical ability bordered on nothing. Worse than an ab, even.

  She wanted to go back to the Williamsons' brownstone. She wanted to forget that Thorn had found her.

  "Maybe," she took a step forward and jutted out her jaw, "But his dad's a cop. And if I go missing again he'll tell his dad and we'll have that to worry about."

  Thorn's lips pressed into a thin line while he thought, "Take a minute, then meet me at the corner."

  He stepped backwards. At the same time, life unpaused around her. Cars sped forward. Birds chirped.

  "She's not going any—" Peter stammered and lowered his finger. Thorn no longer stood in front of him.

  Thorn waited a block down at the corner, watching. Though to Peter, Ellie knew it must have seemed like Thorn just disappeared.

  She couldn't help but smile, "Thanks for the defense."

  Peter looked around, confusing creasing his brow, "Where'd that guy in the coat go?"

  "I know him from school," Ellie said, "We haven't seen each other in a while. I'm going to go catch up with him, just for a bit. Don't worry, we're just going to the park," she answered his question before it could completely leave his mouth.

  Peter turned towards Prospect Park, "I'll come with you."

  She smiled again. She wished he could, but she didn't want him seeing that part of her life.

  He'll think I'm crazy, she thought. She couldn't have that.

  "I'll be fine. Really. Hey, do you mind telling Brenda I'll be a little late?"

  Peter rubbed at his chin, "Sure, fine. But Ellie? I don't like this and I don't like him."

 

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