I stared at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds slowly tick by. It was one minute and thirty-seven seconds until I got my magic back. I was in sixth period, English, and I didn't give one crap about who or what we were studying.
All I knew was that I was getting my magic back in one minute and twenty-three seconds.
I tried to distract myself by paying attention, by watching Ms. Grace talk, with counting the seconds myself, but I couldn't overpower my anxiousness. Fifty-three seconds.
Would it be better to get a pass to the bathroom when my magic returned? I wasn't sure if I'd start glowing or shooting sparks or any of that. Forty seconds.
Then again, it would take a few seconds for her to notice me, to go through the whole process of asking to go then taking the pass, and by then, I might already be firing off lightning bolts. Thirty-two seconds.
And it might be better if I just kept to myself. I was in the back corner of the room anyway, and everyone was already in the post-lunch doldrums. Twenty-four seconds.
As long as I kept my hands under my desk, I could probably manage the magic. Eighteen seconds.
My pulse quickened, and I chewed my lip. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out to remain as calm as I could. Ten seconds.
After all, a calm magical was a useful magical. Five seconds.
I didn't even see the second hand hit the number, as the force of my magic returning nearly knocked me off my chair. My heart raced and my thoughts scattered as the rush of power flowed from my core to my fingers, which glowed purple.
"Crap," I whispered, stuffing them between my knees. This was quickly turning into a repeat of my first day of magic. This time, I was more prepared. At least, I hoped I was.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The important thing was to remain calm so I didn't make a scene. The power rushed through my veins and instead of fighting it, I let it ping-pong from my head to my toes. The feeling was euphoric, as if a piece of my soul had returned to me.
Opening my eyes, I checked my hands. They were back to normal—no glowing. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Lexie, can you tell us what Scout means when she says that telling people that Boo Radley committed the murder would've been like shooting a mocking bird?"
I stared at Ms. Grace for a moment then glanced down at my notebook. My magic had flipped to a page I'd written the night before, where the answer to that very question sat.
I cleared my throat and tried not to look too smug.
When the day was over, I practically skipped to my locker to swap out my things. Not only did I have my magic back, but I was demonstrating a ridiculous amount of control over it. I could feel it pressing against the inside of my skin, begging to be released.
But we'd come to an agreement. We would blow off some steam at the sparring beach tonight—Gavon had promised he'd come as soon as my magic was back. In return, the magic would behave. I'd almost forgotten the half-crazy way I would converse with it. I wasn't sure if that was normal or if I was just weird, but that was low on the list of questions I had for Gavon.
It had been torture not being able to talk to him except for the five minutes at the library. I was kicking myself for not asking him about his friend, but I'd also seen no more of him. I'd also read all the new books he'd given me cover-to-cover. My favorite had been the book on famous magicals in history—although the history had ended around 1650, which left a full three hundred years of magicals left undocumented.
I was sure there was probably a book or two in Gram's library that could've answered that question. But as far as I knew, were still on the pseudo-excommunication or probation or whatever it was.
I knelt in front of my locker and twisted the dial to open it when I heard a loud sniff above. Callista stood beside me, her face red from crying.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Joel's an asshole."
So they'd broken up. Good news for my bottom locker, but I still felt bad. "Sorry to hear that."
She shrugged and closed her locker, marching off to join her friends. I swung open my locker before stopping.
Oh yeah, my magic was back. No need to cram books into my bag.
I craned my neck toward both ends of the hall, but it was empty. Shielding my locker with my body, I magicked all of my books from my locker to my bed. Smiling to myself, I stood and kicked my locker closed.
Marie stood behind me, a glare on her face. "I saw that."
"Oh?" I said, smirking.
"So you have your magic back, huh?" She wasn't even bothering to lower her voice, but the hall was empty anyway.
"Yup. Too bad you don't." I shouldn't have been stirring the pot, but my magic was making me cocky and Marie'd been nothing but awful to me the past few weeks.
Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, too bad because you're shit out of luck in the morning if you go sparring."
"Oh cr… Wait, how did you know I was sparring?"
It was her turn to look smug.
My heartbeat quickened. "Does Jeanie know? Nicole?"
"They might find out. I don't know." She examined her nails for a moment. "Depends on how the next few minutes go."
I sighed. Of course. "What do you want?"
"I want you to do my homework and the dishes tonight," Marie said. "And I want you to tell Jeanie that I'm in my room and charm it so she won't check it."
I blinked. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"
"You're the genius, figure it out. Why don't you ask your sparring partner? He's obviously been teaching you everything."
Again, my nerves ticked up a notch. "So you know Gavon?"
She laughed. "Oh yeah."
I chewed my lip, debating if I should ask her more. But I trusted answers from Gavon more than I trusted answers from her—especially when she was being overdramatic.
"Fine, I'll make sure nobody knows you snuck out."
"Pleasure doing business with you." Marie adjusted her backpack on her shoulder then spotted Charity and called for her to wait up.
If Jeanie or Nicole were surprised to see dinner ready for them when they got home, or that I told them my homework was complete, or that I was being extra pleasant, they didn't mention it. Nicole did eye me a little more warily as she tasted the food, but Jeanie seemed to be back to normal, especially when I asked if I could go for a walk.
"Take your phone."
I waved it in front of her then bounded out the door, and transported myself to the sparring beach. It was definitely colder now, though nothing compared to Boston or New Salem. The wind on the beach cut through my hoodie, so I tried an easy warming charm on it.
And promptly set my sleeve on fire.
"Crap!" I said, waving my arm around.
I heard a snort of derision and the fire disappeared from my arm.
"Gavon!" I said, although my smile was dampened by the sight of his apprentice. The boy didn't look pleased at all to be there, and he tugged at his t-shirt uncomfortably.
Gavon, however, barely acknowledged his apprentice as he crossed the beach toward me. "How are you feeling?"
"Jittery," I said, looking at my sleeve, which had mended itself. "It's like the first day I had magic. Everything's just…overkill."
"I had a feeling that might happen," Gavon said, nodding back at James, who was staring at the waves and the moon, unimpressed. "Thought you might want to attempt a real sparring match with someone your own age. James was kind enough to volunteer."
The look on his face told me James hadn't volunteered for anything.
"Do you…do you think I'm ready for that?" I peered around Gavon to James. He'd probably been sparring since he could walk, since children over there weren't subject to the Council of Danvers laws.
"I told James to take it easy on you," Gavon said. "But you might do better than you think. Give it a shot."
If Gavon thought I was ready, I'd trust him, but it was with no small amount of trepidation that I crossed the beach to face James.
"Do you even know what you're doing?" he asked, disdain dripping from his words. Up close, he couldn't have been much older than I was.
Before I could answer, Gavon had materialized beside us. "Alexis, as is customary, you two will shake hands to begin the match."
I held out my hand, hoping it wasn't too sweaty. James slapped his palm against mine and energy jolted through our hands. A dome of forest green and purple magic appeared around us, illuminating his face the sand. James released my hand as if it were poisonous, a look of annoyance crossing his face.
"What are you waiting for? Go to your side."
"What?"
"Alexis, in a duel, you'll need to begin on your side of the circle," Gavon said. At least he didn't sound like I was a complete moron.
A memory of the dueling book came back to me, and I marched to the more purple end, which I assumed was my side. I glanced up, amazed at the beauty that was my magic.
"Begin."
I couldn't even look at Gavon before the first spell slammed into me. I flew backward, and then, before I even knew what was happening, another came, then another, and another, and another until I was flat against the back of the dome.
"Let her get up, will you?" Gavon called.
"You never let me get up," I heard him mutter before he turned back to me.
This time, I was ready. I rolled out of the way, and the spell hit the sand, sending it spraying. The diversion was enough for me to attack him, but he deflected and returned the volley, which I blocked.
His eyes narrowed.
I half-smiled at him.
He snarled at me, attacking. I stepped backward, parrying off spell after spell and unable to find an opening to fight back.
Then, in a stroke of genius, I was able to knock one of his spells back toward him, hitting him in the gut and knocking him back a few steps.
"Nice one, Alexis," Gavon called.
I grinned, basking in the compliment.
James pushed himself out of the sand, angrily. "Think you're so special? See how you like this one."
The spell hit, and I went tumbling head over heels back toward the edge of the dome.
"James," Gavon snapped. "That was uncalled for."
"You said I was supposed to spar with her," he said, hopping to his feet.
I slowly got to my knees, the cut on my forehead stinging and my head spinning from low magic. But I kept my face stoic; something told me James wouldn't give a rat's ass if I was feeling icky.
"Don't tell me you're done already? I thought you were supposed to be special?"
I looked at him curiously. "Wh—" His assault came ferociously, and it was all I could do to block and protect myself. I felt the beginnings of exhaustion set in, but my magic hummed in my veins as powerful as ever. If only I could just find an opening…
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a cloud of black smoke. The momentary lapse in concentration was costly, and James hit me hard.
I looked up at him from my back, as he held a spell in his hand intended for me.
"You don't look so special to me," he said, before throwing it.
I threw my hands in front of my face, and readied myself for the pain, but it never came. The dome was gone, and James and I were bathed in nothing but moonlight. I coughed and my ribs ached as I pushed myself up.
"What happened?" I asked.
"He took my magic," James growled, clenching his open palms into fists.
I searched the beach for Gavon. But he'd been joined by another person, presumably the arrival I'd seen a few minutes before.
"Who's that?" I asked James.
James said nothing, but his smug face glinted in the moonlight.
"Fine, be that way," I grunted, pushing myself up and walking to the other side of the beach.
"...and you know this is an illegal match," the dark figure said. I recognized the voice as the creepy man who'd spoken to me at lunch.
"Frankly, Cyrus, I don't give a damn if it's—" Gavon abruptly stopped talking when I walked up.
Cyrus's gaze drifted over me as it had at lunch, although I was sure I looked a sight, bleeding and covered in sand.
"I just thought I'd come let you know," he said. "I'm sure the rest of the Guild would be as interested as I am."
The look on Gavon's face was response enough.
Cyrus nodded to him, and, giving me one final look, disappeared in the haze of black smoke.
"Who is that?" I asked.
"James, this match is over," Gavon called over my head, ignoring my question. "Go home and wait for me there."
"I'd love to," James said, brushing himself off. "But you took away my magic, remember?"
Gavon waved his hand, and James disappeared in a cloud of purple.
"Who is that?" I repeated.
"Nobody," Gavon said, with a forced smile as he gently touched my forehead. "Are you hurt?"
"He's not nobody," I said. "He told me he was your friend."
Gavon's hand tensed. "You spoke with him?"
"Yeah. He gave me the creeps."
"What did you tell him?" Gavon said, an edge in his voice.
"N-nothing. Just that you'd been sparring with me." I watched his face shift. "W-was that bad?"
After a few moments, he smiled. "No, it wasn't bad."
Somehow, I didn't think he was being entirely truthful with me.