Sixteen

Even a fraction of Marie's magic was enough to jumpstart my own healing, so by the end of the day, I was awake and eager to spar again. But Gavon wasn't having any of it, so we practiced summoning and transporting instead, and he sent me home early with a mug of healing potion. The next night was the same, a few hours of magical tutelage and a cup of healing potion. By the third night, I was back to sparking at the fingertips, so we sparred for half an hour before I threw in the towel. 

To my complete surprise, Marie had been willing to heal me the next morning. Whatever had changed with her, she didn't tell me about it. But she'd taken to walking around the house with a smug superiority that even made Jeanie curious. Besides our five-minute healing sessions, Marie treated me exactly the same, and wasn't above leaving me stranded in the parking lot. But the joke was on her, as I was able to transport myself back home. 

Gavon and I continued in this pattern, two or three days of non-sparring tutelage and one night of sparring. I didn't quite miss it, as long as I could spend a few hours picking Gavon's brain. He was so knowledgeable and patient, and on the odd chance he didn't know an answer to my question, he was able to summon a book from some unknown magical library. Usually, he gave the book to me afterwards, so I had begun to assemble my own collection. When the pile grew too large to fit under my bed, he showed me how to create a pocket to stick the books into, and then how to grow the size of my backpack so I could carry more books. When I complained that my backpack was too heavy, he showed me how to change its weight.

Unfortunately, I had to keep my magical progress a secret from Jeanie, and, by extension, Nicole. One time, I'd slipped up and summoned a jug of milk from the store in front of Nicole, and she'd lectured me about why I shouldn't just take things that weren't mine. Then I got another lecture from Jeanie about when and how to use magic. Ever since, I just didn't do any magic around them period. 

So imagine my surprise when Jeanie dropped a bomb the Wednesday before Thanksgiving at breakfast.

"Gram's letting you come up tomorrow," she said with a satisfied smile. 

If she'd thought this was welcome news, she was mistaken. It had been over a month since I'd grown into my magic, and not one of the mysterious magicals in Salem had come down to visit. As far as I was concerned, it was too little, too late. 

"How generous of her."

"Lexie, don't start," Jeanie said. "You have to be on your best behavior up there. Please. For me."

I opened my mouth to argue that I didn't want to go, that Gram and her stupid magical people could stay up there, but then I noticed the dark circles under Jeanie's eyes. If it had taken her a whole six weeks to convince Gram that I was…whatever, good enough to come up to the compound, she must've really worked hard at it. It was the least I could do to just go up there and be a good kid. 

But I wasn't doing it for Gram. 

"Okay," I said. "I will."

Jeanie smiled and patted my hand. "And I promise you I'll find someone to help explain magic better than I can."

"Right, because I don't know anything about magic," I said slowly. That might be a problem. I wasn't a novice anymore; I could summon, conjure, and transport myself, although I was pretty sure Jeanie hadn't noticed any of that. She was definitely unaware that I could spar for almost a full hour, and had gone from simply flinging whatever came out of my hands to making split-second decisions on the type and ferocity of my magic. 

"If everything goes well, you might be up there every weekend," Jeanie said excitedly, taking my plate. "Play your cards right, Lexie, and you'll get instruction from Gram herself."

"Hooray…" 

Although I'd made a lot of progress in the past few weeks, I was still lightyears behind Gavon. Sparring with him was like trying to tap dance with Fred Astaire, although he had the good grace to be humble in his now almost daily ass-kicking. 

"Excellent work, Alexis!" Gavon said as he deflected one of my attack spells and sent back two powerful ones of his own. 

I held up my hands and envisioned a forcefield around myself. The spells bounced harmlessly off the edge of it.

"What is that?" Gavon asked, cocking his head to the side. 

"I saw it in Star Trek," I said with a small shrug. "I wasn't sure it'd work but—" His spell tore clean through the forcefield and sent me flying back into the sand. I landed with an oomph, more pained by my butt than the spell. 

"I'd stick with the classical defensive measures we've been working on," Gavon said, reaching a hand out to help me up. "They've worked for thousands of years."

"Fine," I snapped, taking his hand. I sent a spell through my hand to his. Sadly, it didn't as much as leave a mark on him.

"Nice try," Gavon said. 

I glared at him, brushing myself off. Then, quickly, fired an attack spell, then another, and with a flourish, once more.

"Very good," Gavon said, deflecting them with ease. "Next time, try getting in two spells before you turn around."

"Wha?" I said, stopping for a moment. That was costly as I nearly missed a fast moving spell. "Time out. What?

"Your technique," Gavon said. "It's a tad showy for my taste, and doing all the spinning slows you down."

I frowned at him. "I thought you said it was all instinct?"

"It is," Gavon said. "And I'm improving your instincts."

"Ah hah—gack!" My body moved of its own accord, twisting out of the way of one of his spells. I stopped, gasping at myself and the feeling of having something else move me. "What just happened?"

"Ah, magical memory," Gavon said with a smile. 

"What's that?"

"When you cast a spell, it leaves an imprint, the same way an experience leaves a memory in your mind. Quick and easy spells fade quickly while larger, more complex spells, such as fighting spells, leave a longer impression. When you spar," he cast a spell, "you are building your magical memory so you can rely on it in a match, versus thinking about it."

"Huh," I said, absorbing the concept in the split second between his magical parries. "So if I keep practicing, you're saying I'll get more of these memories, and it'll start taking over?"

"That's the idea."

"And what about healers? Do they have magical memories too?"

He shook his head. "Not to my knowledge." 

"What kind of limits are there to healing?" I asked. "Marie's not getting as woozy as she used to, either. Can she grow stronger as a healer? Could she bring someone back from the dead? Could she cure cancer?"

"She can grow stronger, but her magic will mostly cure magical maladies," Gavon said, continuing to spar with me and not even breaking a sweat. "And, just like you, a healer with no practice can't do much of anything."

"But mostly, they're good for replenishing magic?" 

"That, and I've read about healers who become skilled in wound repairs as well," Gavon said. "Mostly, healers were there to heal the warriors."

"It's almost like the yin and yang," I said. "A warrior loses magic, and a healer replenishes." 

"You see," Gavon said. "You and your sister have no choice but to get along."

"Someone might want to tell her that." The familiar dizzy sensation washed over me, and I swayed on my feet but remained standing. "I think I need a minute. How long did we spar for?"

"Almost a full hour," he said, surveying me. "Are you all right?"

I considered my power. It was low, but not dangerously so. "I don't want to push it tonight. I've got a big day tomorrow, apparently."

"Oh?"

"We're headed up to my Gram's for Thanksgiving," I said, stretching my arms and rubbing my shoulder. "First time seeing the family since…well, since ever."

"You haven't seen them? That's surprising."

"You're telling me," I said. "First I find out I have magic then I find out I apparently have this huge family up in Massachusetts that I've never met. Cousins and aunts and uncles." 

He made a noise that sounded like annoyance. 

"Hey, how would I transport myself there? Like, how do I get somewhere I've never been?" I was stalling, but I didn't like the idea of not seeing Gavon for a few days. 

"You might not be able to transport into the compound. My guess is that it has some magical protections around it that prevent anyone from just showing up."

That made sense, I supposed. 

"But the general technique is similar to summoning an object in an unknown location. The farther away the location is, the more magic is required. Let's practice step-by-step. I want you to transport yourself to the waterline." 

I pursed my lips at him; I'd been transporting easily for weeks now. 

"Just trust me on this," he said. "Do it."

I popped to the waterline then popped back to the seated position.

"And how did you do that?" 

I sighed. "I sent my magic to the location I wanted to go then followed it."

"Very good. Now, I want you to send your magic to the oyster restaurant twenty miles from here."

"Where's that?"

"Ah-hah, not so smart now, are we?" Gavon said with a knowing smile. "Go find it."

I closed my eyes and released my magic, but it had nowhere to go. "I don't know how."

"So perhaps you should lay off the attitude, hm?" he said with a small chuckle. "Your magic is quite intelligent. Ask it to find the restaurant for you."

I breathed the query to the power humming in my veins then released it. I gasped as it shot away from me, disappearing into the darkness of my mind's eye. For a few breaths, I heard nothing…then a faint whisper of "Come to me." I let go of the grip on my physical body and the scent of seafood and fried potatoes filled my nose. 

I stood in front of an oyster house I'd never seen before. My jaw dropped at my own talent; this opened so many doors for me.

Beaming, I transported myself back to Gavon. 

"Well?"

"Found it!" 

"You went all the way over there and didn't bring me anything back?" 

I laughed and concentrated, sending my magic back to the restaurant to bring back a plate of raw oysters in rock salt. 

Gavon's face lit up. "That's more like it," he said, taking the platter from my hands and placing it on the sand in front of us. "I haven't had oysters in years."

"Any reason?" I asked, slurping one down.

He smiled a little sadly. "Not since I lost my wife. She was a big fan." 

I swallowed the first oyster in one gulp, and felt guilty that I knew absolutely nothing about the man who had been teaching me magic, other than his affinity for history and science. But then again, I had become quite nervous to ask him, afraid of what I would—or wouldn't—find out. 

"So do you have a family?" I asked quietly. "Somewhere to go for Thanksgiving?"

His face warmed, and he chuckled. "I'll be fine. Why don't you hurry on home? I'll see you next week."

"You just want to eat all the oysters…"

He shrugged and slurped down another one. "Guilty?"