“I-”
The words rushed through my mind like a winter storm.
A headache stabbed at my eyes. A headache named Dad. I coughed to cover my gasp.
, I thought.
“I do feel magic,” I said. “Not as strongly as I’d expect, since this is over a well.”
She held very still, that green gaze roving over me like she could see beneath my skin. I resisted the urge to just get up and walk out of there.
Which was probably good, since it was probably not my urge.
“Have you experienced any residual effects since your father used your mind?” she asked in the firm tones of a doctor or schoolteacher. “Dreams, memories, thoughts?”
, he raged.
“Yes,” I said, a little too loudly, since I was trying to drown out his voice, even though I was the only one who could hear him. Then, quieter, “I’ve experienced all those things.”
The flutter behind my eyes turned into blunt fingers trying to rub their way out of my head. It hurt, but I’d endure a lot more pain than that to get rid of my dad. Besides, I was pretty sure my father and I were at cross- purposes. We’d always been at cross-purposes. I’d long ago learned that doing the opposite of whatever he wanted me to do was generally in my best interest.
“Are you experiencing them right now?”
I have never felt my father’s raw fear before. It was just a flash, a moment. Then I could not sense him at all.
“I was,” I said. “Not right this second.”
“I need to look in your mind.” She sat forward, her hands clasped loosely at her knees.
She’d done this once before. I didn’t know why my palms were suddenly sweaty, didn’t know why my mouth was so dry.
“Like last time?” I asked, stalling.
“Exactly the same. You might feel it a little more, though. Since we are so close to the well, I will be able to look more deeply than I did before, to see if it is just residuals of your father’s thoughts and spirit, or if it is something more.”
“Okay.” I was pretty sure it was something more, like maybe his entire disembodied/reembodied spirit, but I’d leave that assessment to the expert.
Maeve placed her hand on my left wrist-the part of me closest to her.
No glyphs, no chanting. She just closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
This time, I could sense the magic rising from far below us. The magic flooded through her-something I’d never seen anyone try-then settled like a cloak or aura around her. And even though magic is fast, the way she called upon it, it was slow and I could see the white and blue shimmer of it with just my bare eyes without calling upon Sight.
She opened her eyes, shockingly silver, shadowed by shots of her normal forest green.
With magic around her, Maeve looked
me.
Magic in me flickered, burned too hot along my right arm, too cold along my left. I did not want to use it, did not want to cast magic. But like fire jumping a line, it ignited, filled me.
Maeve blinked, tipped her head to the side. “Allie?”
“It’s okay,” I said as I recited a mantra. Just the first two lines of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” over and over. “Give me a sec.”
How was I supposed to get rid of so much magic when there was so damn much magic filling the room?
Maeve stood, and I would have worried about that, but I was a little busy trying not to explode and burn the place down. I had a feeling they wouldn’t let me come back to school if I killed the teacher on the first day.
Magic burned, squeezing my bones. I bit my lip to keep from moaning and twinkle-twinkled with all my might.
Something cold and heavy dropped into my lap.
Like blowing out a candle, the magic in me went dead.
Okay, this time I moaned, not from pain, but from relief.
Maeve was standing next to me, bent a little. She studied my face. “I can’t believe it. I never thought. .”
I blinked, looked down at the heavy thing in my lap. A rock. A plain black and gray river rock, smooth and oblong, about the size of a loaf of bread.
“Here,” she said.
I glanced up and took the ice water she offered me.
“Thanks.” I drank, and when I was done, she set the glass back on the table. “Really nice rock,” I noted.
Maeve sat on the coffee table in front of me and put one hand on my knee. “How long have you held magic inside of you?”
“You could tell?” I asked, probably stupidly.
“Not before now. I knew magic had marked you. From the outside. .” She leaned back a little and her gaze wandered over me, her eyes still silver, but with a lot more green in them. “From the outside it does not show.” She shook her head. “Are you Shielding?”
“No. Mostly I just try not to let it burn me up.”
“But you have used it? Drawn upon the magic within you and successfully cast spells?” I couldn’t tell if she was excited or worried.
“A lot. I Hound for a living, remember? Why? Is that a problem?”
She laughed, but it came out a little shaky. “I wouldn’t call it a problem. It’s just so unheard-of. How long have you been able to carry magic?”
“All my life. Just a small bit, enough to work one minor spell. It always took a while to fill back up.”
“You were born with it?” She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. When she exhaled, she muttered something that involved my father’s name and a couple curse words. “No wonder he never brought you to us, never let you learn.” Maeve’s hand dropped to her lap. Her eyes were almost all green now, and she looked resigned. “You hold much more than a small amount now, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“And that changed when you received those marks on your hands? Positive”-she pointed at the wild whorl of colors up my right arm to my temple-“and negative.” She pointed to the solid black bands around each of the knuckles and the wrist of my left hand. “Classic natural representation of the give-and-take of magic. Pleasure and price.”
“Yes, it changed when I got marked.”
“When did that happen? How?”
I didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t want to be vulnerable, exposed. Have I mentioned I have trust issues?
“Do you really need to know that?”
“If you want me to stand as your advocate at the testing ground, yes, I really need to know that.”
“Testing ground?”
“In three days, your control of magic will be tested in front of the members of the Authority.”
This must be the test my dad kept talking about.
“Is that when you decide if I deserve to use magic? If you should just erase all my memories about the Authority and put limits on what I can do?” It came out angry, which was no surprise since it pissed me off that someone else thought they could tell me how to live my life.
Yes, I knew that wasn’t the worst thing they could do to me. Zayvion had told me they could go so far as try to kill me if they thought I was too much of a danger or risk to myself or others.
