Magic and Mayhem Page 9

  "Bummer."

  "Yeah…bummer…"

  "So," asked Gee, the editor of our yearbook, "what's the deal with James?"

  "Um." I searched for the rehearsed words I'd been using all this time, but I couldn't find them. "He's an ass."

  "Really? He seems so nice."

  "He fakes it well," I said with a snort. "I mean, he—"

  "He's coming over here now," Tamara said, brushing her hair behind her ears.

  James said hello to everyone except me, drawing blushes and nervous giggles from all the girls. I pursed my lips at him, waiting for him to acknowledge me.

  "Lexie, come get a drink with me," he said, taking my arm and dragging me into the mostly empty kitchen.

  "Well, hello to you too," I said, ripping my arm out of his. "What do you want? I was socializing."

  "Hardly. That was painfully awkward, even across the room. I could practically see you sweating," James said in a hurried whisper. "Explain this college application process, because everyone keeps asking me where I'm going and I don't know what to tell them."

  "You can't just enroll in college in most places. You have to apply see if they'll accept you. Just say you're going to one of the state schools and be done with it."

  "No, I want something that sounds impressive." A beat. "I should say I'm going to Georgetown with you."

  "Don't you dare!" I hissed.

  James chuckled, and I was sure my face was bright red. "Why not?"

  "Because!"

  "Because why?"

  I dismissed the magic prickling at my fingertips. "Because it's a hard school to get into, and I don't want them thinking that you can get in because…because…"

  He chuckled. "Because I could just snap my fingers and be enrolled?"

  "Yes. That's cheating."

  "How?" he asked with that damned smirk.

  "Because you can't use magic to get whatever you want. You have to work for it—"

  "I'm just telling them I'm going. I have no plans to, obviously." He crossed his arms over his chest. "But do tell me more about this fascinating philosophy of not using magic to get what you want."

  Instead of taking the bait, I swiped the glass out of his hand and marched out onto the balcony, both to calm my angry heart and to keep my magic from blasting him until next Tuesday. I leaned over the weathered wood and listened to the distant sound of the gulf against the sand until the tingling disappeared.

  I wasn't sure what James had said that set me off. Maybe I was jealous he didn't carry with him a bucketload of guilt and angst about using magic. Maybe I couldn't stand him lying about the college of my dreams, especially with as hard as I'd worked over the past few years. Maybe I was just hurt and lonely, even in this party full of people I knew.

  Inside, James was leaning against the marble countertops like he'd been doing it for decades. Callista sidled up next to him and offered him a drink, not knowing she was offering it to a boy whose ancestors had been banished to an alternate universe, and that he had the power to blow her to bits. No, to Callista, James was just the new, hot thing.

  And…I was jealous. Not of the girl James was with, but of James himself. In less than a month, he'd managed to become more popular and more well-liked than I had in my entire thirteen years with these kids. When he wasn't being an asshole, he had an easygoing way about him, a confidence that made him just plain likable. He was quick to laugh and even quicker to smile, and those around him were obviously at ease.

  How much of this came from his own natural inclinations, and how much from Gavon?

  After all, Gavon had been the first to cross the tear, to ingratiate himself with the local magicals. He'd made my mother fall in love with him. He'd fooled me into thinking he cared, although that could've been because of my own naivete.

  Perhaps it was because, for the first time, I'd found someone who really got me. It had been heartbreaking when he left, not just because I'd lost Jeanie, but I'd also lost my confidant and mentor. My friend.

  And now I had another magical who—despite his flaws—understood me on a deeper level. But he was abandoning me as well, this time for the more interesting people in my class.

  The longer I sulked, the clearer it became that coming to the party had been a bad idea. I opened the sliding glass door and headed for the exit.

  "Whoa, wait, where are you going?" James said, leaving Callista in the kitchen and meeting me by the door. "You aren't leaving, are you?"

  "Yeah," I said, glancing at Callista, whose expression had darkened considerably. "This isn't fun. I'm going home."

  "Okay, but…" James followed my gaze, frowned, then turned back to me. "You aren't still angry at me, are you? We can spar, and you'll cover for me if Gavon—"

  "Sure," I said with a wave of my hand. "Whatever you want."

  James seemed placated, because he returned to Callista, who was shooting questioning looks at him. I almost wanted to know what he'd say—friend? Convenient person he blasted magic at? Definitely not someone for Callista to be jealous of.

  But as I looked behind me at the party of people, I decided maybe James was just one of them.

  And I was not.

  The moment I arrived home, I magicked myself out of my clothes and into my pajamas, letting out a loud sigh when my bra disappeared. Let James have his parties and girls. I had my bed, and that was all right with me.

  But first, my stomach growled. I hadn't had more than a handful of chips at the party, so I meandered out of my bedroom and into the kitchen.

  My rummaging must've woken Nicole up, because she opened her bedroom door and called for me.

  "You're home early?" she said, walking into the kitchen in her pajamas. "Everything okay?"

  "Turns out I'm not a partier," I said with a half-shrug. "Really not my scene."

  "Is hanging out with me and watching Netflix your scene?" Nicole asked. "I decided to start Buffy tonight. I think there's a couple pints of ice cream in the freezer."

  At that, I had to smile. "Yeah, actually, that sounds awesome."

  It had been ages since Nicole and I had spent a night curled up on the couch watching TV. After Jeanie had died, it was our go-to evening routine so we wouldn't have to talk about our feelings. But when my schedule became busier, and Nicole's presence a bit overbearing, we'd let the practice fall to the wayside.

  "So what happened?" she asked, handing me a pint and a spoon.

  "I'm apparently not…" I sighed. "Cool. I guess. I don't know. I just feel like I don't fit in here. Or anywhere."

  "This is a hard town to fit into," Nicole said thoughtfully. "I don't know why Jeanie picked it. Maybe because there wasn't another magical for miles."

  "You did okay, though," I said, picking at the fabric of the couch. "I mean, you had friends. You had a social life."

  Nicole half-smiled. "Did I, though? Sure I had a couple girlfriends, but I never really felt like this place fit me."

  "So why did you stay?"

  "Because you needed me," she replied. "Marie, too, whether she knew it or not."

  I glanced at an empty chair on the other side of the room and imagined Marie sitting in it. "I'm glad she texted me. I was getting worried that she might never…" I chewed my lip. "I tried to find her the other day. Magically."

  Nicole turned sharply. "How?"

  "I found it in a book…one of my books," I said, looking at my hands. "But it didn't work."

  "Wherever Marie is, she's probably using magic to hide herself," she said quietly. "Don't blame yourself."

  "You think?" I asked, but it did make me feel a little better. If I couldn't find her, perhaps others couldn't either. "Do you think she'll ever come home?"

  Nicole was quiet for a while. "She might not, Lexie. Marie's…well, she's Marie. And she can hold a grudge."

  "I know she can, but it's been a really long time. At some point, you have to bury the hatchet and be a family." I paused. "Don't you?"

  Nicole shrugged and took another bite of i
ce cream.

  "Not to salt the wound, but what exactly happened between you two?" I asked cautiously.

  She chewed on the spoon for a second then shook her head. "It really doesn't matter. She overreacted. I assume she's found some rich hot guy to take care of her, because I know she doesn't have any real world skills."

  "That's not nice, Nicole."

  "It's the truth. She thinks she can do anything because she has magic." Nicole snorted. "Let me tell you, magic isn't all it's cracked up to be. More trouble than it's worth."

  "Is it, though?" I said, knowing we were veering into uncomfortable territory. "I mean, you don't even make potions, so—"

  "Let's watch the show," Nicole said, reaching for the remote and turning up the volume.

  That, in effect, killed our conversation.

  Twelve

  The calendar turned to October, and with it, came the dread of my seventeenth birthday. I doubted it would be as exciting as my fifteenth—no more nightstands being blown up—but if it was anything like the year before, it would kick off a chain reaction of depression that would last through the New Year. I was already steeling myself for the inevitable downward spiral.

  James was now dating Callista, or something like that. We didn't discuss the specifics when we sparred on Wednesday nights. At school, he barely spoke to me, which was fine, especially as my birthday crept closer.

  The morning of, I managed to get out of the apartment with only the minimal amount of singing from Nicole. If last year was any indication, she'd try to make this year the best birthday ever, regardless of whether I wanted to celebrate it or not. I told her I had tutoring and volunteering at night, so at least that would keep me out of the house until late. And if I transported myself into my room, I might not see her at all.

  Blessedly, no one at school mentioned it was my birthday either, so I figured I might get away with having a nice, normal day with no reminders of what I was trying to avoid.

  That was, until a giant spell book landed on my desk.

  Thunk.

  "Happy birthday."

  "James!" I hissed, glancing around the room. He couldn't just bring spell books into the classroom!

  "Relax, it's spelled, like all the others," James said. "Look-away charm."

  "Well, okay, but…" I frowned. History seemed destined to repeat itself. Another birthday and another magical giving me a spell book. "I don't want this."

  "Tough, you're taking it." He glanced around the room before leaning over the aisle. "Because I'm not going to be saddled with making potions every week."

  "P-potions?" My stomach rose into my throat as memories of a particularly poor decision came back. I rubbed the back of my hand, wondering if I could still see the purple spots. "I don't want to make potions. G—" I swallowed, warmth creeping up my neck. "I'm not allowed to make them."

  "Says who? Gavon?" James snorted. "Why? Did you mix a potion wrong once?"

  So Gavon hadn't shared that particularly embarrassing episode with his apprentice, thankfully. "I'm not a potion-maker."

  "This book is for the un-makers, meaning you and me." A sly grin grew on his face. "What, did you use one of your sister's books or something?" My traitorous blush deepened, and James cackled. "Oh, I would've loved to have seen that! What happened? Did you grow fur? Scales?"

  "Shut up!" I barked, drawing Callista's attention. She glowered at me, probably wondering why I was talking to her boyfriend. She'd become awfully possessive of him of late, and it was apparently starting to grate on James. The power couple might not be long for this world, especially with how James freely offered his flirting.

  "You're too easy," James said, his laughter resolving to a smug grin.

  "Why do I have to make potions?" I said, careful to keep my voice down. "You're the one with all the resources—"

  "I'll bring a cauldron to the beach tonight and show you how to summon the ingredients. Pretty simple."

  "Tonight?" I blanched. Not as if I wanted to spend my birthday making potions, but… "Do we have to do it tonight?"

  "If you want to spar on Wednesday, yes. It takes two sunrises to complete." He sighed like he'd rather be doing anything else. "I will show you once, then you'll have to figure it out yourself. And if you give me scales, there will be hell to pay."

  I glanced behind him at Callista, eyeing us curiously. "Your girlfriend would be pissed off, then?"

  James turned pink. "She's not my girlfriend."

  "You'd better tell her that."

  James looked behind me at Callista then walked over to her. Their conversation wasn't friendly, with several pointed glares to me. James took the seat behind her, his head bowed as he tried to sweet talk the frown off her face, so I decided to throw him a bone and ignore them. For I had yet another magical spell book at my fingertips, and a potion-making one to boot.

  Ever since that catastrophic disaster with the healing potion, I'd avoided potions like the plague. But if what James said was true, and this book was for the—what did he call it, the un-makers?—then yet another avenue of my magic had opened up. From what James had said, potions could be used in place of actual magical spells.

  Which begged the question: if Nicole could use potions to transport and conjure, why didn't she? The obvious answer was that the time and effort potions take outweighed their usefulness. Jeanie seemed to live by the philosophy that magic shouldn't replace hard work, and that probably played into it too.

  Something cold slipped into my stomach. James was an adept potion-maker, which flew in the face of his ancestor's beliefs that potions were useless and those who made them should be put to death. Gavon must've taught him, which meant that Gavon had also researched potions and potion-making.

  For Nicole.

  And the books she had in the attic, including the one I'd stolen to make my potion, none of those would've come from New Salem. Gavon had gone looking for books to help Nicole use her magic. And, presumably, Gavon then passed that knowledge down to James.

  I ran my finger along the cover, the same way I'd done with the magical primer that Gavon had given me on my fifteenth birthday. I still had no idea whether to love or hate the man, and every new bit of information I found out about him just left me more confused.

  What time are you coming home?

  "Crap."

  The sun was setting, painting the sky a pretty purple and pink. I'd finished tutoring and volunteering early, so I gave myself a birthday present of enjoying a few moments of peace on the gulf before James showed up. It had been quite relaxing—until the reminder that my sister was waiting for me at home.

  I'll be home just as soon as I finish making this potion with Gavon's apprentice. As if that text would go over well. Instead I told her I was staying late to help meet with a pair of potential adopters at the kennel, and I'd be home after a while.

  I wasn't even sure why I was waiting for him. All my smarter instincts told me I shouldn't be making potions. After all, despite everything that had happened in New Salem, Gavon had been pretty spot-on in his advice about potions: Don't drink anything unless I was sure I'd done it right.

  But the more that I'd skimmed my book, the more eager I'd become to learn all I could about the practice. There were tons of varieties: healing potions, of course, but potions for growing plants, potions for wards, potions for changing the color of your shirt. Potions for cleaning scum off cauldrons. Potions for sleep and potions for wakefulness. Potions for transport and summoning.

  "Good, you're here," was all the welcome James gave me before he dumped a burlap bag and cauldron onto the sand in front of me. The pot was old and worn, and I wondered how many magicals had used it, and how many potions they'd brewed. I touched the outside and my fingers grew cold.

  "Iron," James said, dumping out the contents of the sack onto the sand. "Contains the magic in the potion so it can congeal correctly."

  "Ah." I picked up a purple, leafy branch and sniffed. "Lavender?"

  "My favorite healing
potion is this one," James said, summoning the book to his hands and flipping through the pages. He handed the book back to me, and I read aloud.

  Healing Potion #12

  1 gallon apple cider vinegar

  1 aloe leaf - Add 2 additional aloe

  2 echinacea 4 Marigold

  3 bundles lavender

  7 spider legs from 5 spiders Add the 2 pair of legs between the third and fourth

  Assemble under moonlight. Boil two days with magic fire.

  Medium temperature

  Drink in good health.

  The handwriting wasn't James' though. "Who made all these markings?"

  "Different people," James said, conjuring a fire under the cauldron. "Potion books are passed down from master to apprentice in New Salem."

  "So this was…Gavon's?" I asked, examining the print again. It didn't look like his scrawl.

  "At one point. But it's been mine since I was a boy." He cleared his throat. "So the first thing you need to know about potions is that you shouldn't drink them unless you know what you're doing."

  I had to smile at that. "Noted."

  "Potions begin with a liquid, usually vinegar, wine, or even water in some cases," he said, handing me a bottle.

  I took a whiff of the pungent odor. "Vinegar, I take it?"

  He dumped the whole bottle into the cauldron. "Next, you'll want to add the base herbs. Echinacea, lavender, aloe—most healing potions have a variation of some or all of these."

  I squinted at the book, where I was following along with his directions. There was a note in the margins, written in a different hand than the others. "This book says to use marigolds."

  "Yeah, I tried that once," James said, tossing the lavender bundle into the cauldron. "Didn't work as well as Echinacea. But that was Alexandra's note. She had a lot of weird additions that didn't do much for me."

  "Who's Alexandra?" I asked, as he tossed in the Echinacea flowers.

  "Your grandmother, Alexandra. Gavon's mother." James plucked off small buds from the lavender plant. "She was Guildmaster before him."