The Girl Without Magic

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The Girl Without Magic Page 13

by Megan O'Russell


  As soon as the last boatman was in place, each of the people on the roofs raised a hand, and a voice from the front of the village yelled, “Forward!” As one, the rowers began paddling.

  At once the deck surged forward, jarring Maggie and making her stumble, but with the next stroke, the only movement she could feel was the steady momentum of the village.

  “Amazing.”

  Maggie jumped as Bertrand spoke right over her shoulder. “An entire village moving. Without threats or fuss. Just moving on to the next place.”

  “No!” A man paddled up along the side of the village. “Stop please! We can’t leave. We can’t!”

  The man leapt from his boat and up onto the Fireside walkway. “Please stop this! Abeyla! Please!” The man’s face was desperate and pale. His hair was covered in dirt, and his face was marked with scratches. “Abeyla!”

  “Elson.” Abeyla appeared around the corner, her voice tense. “We can’t stay. You know we can’t stay.”

  “But my wife is still out there!” the man cried with anguish in his voice. “My wife, Abeyla!”

  “I know, Elson,” Abeyla said, “but for the good of the village, we must move on.”

  “My wife was out in the jungle for the good of the village!” Elson shouted. “Searching for resources for the good of the village.”

  “Lana knew the risks,” Abeyla said, her tone grim. “She knew the risks as we all do.”

  “So we leave her behind? Two days gone, and we consider her lost forever?” Tears streamed down the man’s furious face.

  “She can find the watchers in the hills,” Abeyla said, holding her hands out as she approached Elson. “The watchers always know where we are going. Lana knows to go there. She will find her way. But we can’t risk the entire village in waiting for one person.”

  “She’s my wife!”

  “She knows the way to the watchers,” Abeyla said, taking Elson’s shaking hands in hers. “She can find her way home.”

  “And if the Enlightened have found her in the woods?”

  “Lana is a brave woman,” Abeyla said. “She would never betray the Wanderers.”

  Elson collapsed to the ground, shaking in his tears.

  Abeyla knelt next to him. “It is not an easy path we tread. The life of a Wanderer is hard and long. Lana is a brave and strong woman. She holds magic deep within her blood. She will find her way to the watchers, and they will send her home. You must believe that.”

  “Yes, Abeyla,” the man said weakly through his tears.

  As if on a silent command, a big man appeared at Abeyla’s side and half-lifted Elson to his feet before leading him away down the ramp.

  Abeyla watched them for a moment before turning to Bertrand. “It may seem cruel to leave one of our own behind, but the best safety we have is in staying hidden.”

  “Protecting the many is not an easy task,” Bertrand said with a solemn nod. “Yours is not a place in which many could stand.”

  “No,” Abeyla said, “but sometimes leaders aren’t given a choice. When everyone else is gone, you must stand up and do your best to protect whatever is left.” Without another word Abeyla walked away toward the front of the village.

  Through it all the rowers had never stopped pulling the village forward. The boat Elson had rowed up was tied to the side of the deck, clunking uselessly along as they traveled.

  A shuffling and sniffling from the opening to the Fireside caught Maggie’s attention. The children were huddled in the doorway, fear on their faces. Mina was at the front of the pack, her little eyes brimming with tears.

  “You all right?” Maggie asked. She had never been good with the little ones at the Academy. They cried too much and worried too much about getting home. Maggie had given up on tears years ago.

  “I hate the Enlightened,” Mina said, rubbing her nose with her hand. “They ruin everything. They make the runners go more. And make it harder for people to get home. And when they come, they’ll put all of us in the dark place to hide.”

  “That does sound pretty scary.” Maggie sat down on the deck as Bertrand gave a warning growl of, “Miss Trent.”

  “But I think you’re pretty brave,” Maggie said, “and when you’re brave, it’s okay to be scared of the dark and the Enlightened. But you don’t let your fear stop you. Do you like it when the village moves?”

  Mina nodded. “We’re almost to the rocks. The rocks are the fun part.”

  Mina was right. The village had almost reached the rocks that curved a path to the rest of the Broken Lake. Maggie’s heart leapt into her throat. They wouldn’t be able to fit through the opening. The village would hit the rocks and crumble. They would all drown before the Enlightened even had a chance to reach them.

  Maggie took a breath, making sure her voice would be steady. “Why do you like going through the rocks, Mina?”

  “I like the rocks because it feels like the lake is hugging the village, like it’s promising to protect the Wanderers.” Mina gave a wet smile and pointed up at the rocks high overhead. “See? They’re so tall they almost block out the whole sky. I bet if we stayed right here, the Enlightened would never find us.”

  “Why do you move?” Maggie asked. “Why travel the lake?”

  “Magic leaves marks,” a boy at the back of the pack said, clapping his hand over his mouth in astonishment at his braveness. It took him a moment to recover before he spoke again. “When we stay in a place, we fill it with our magic. And if we stay too long, the marks start to stay, and then it’s easy for people to find us. We used to be able to stay longer, but now that we know we’re being watched, we have to move more often to stay safe.”

  “Wow,” Maggie said, not letting her eyes stray to the rock outcropping, which jutted out over their heads. “Sounds like a great system. What kind of magic do you do here? I’ve seen the fire inside. How it’s protected so no one can get burned, but what kind of magic do you do that makes a mark?”

  The boy’s face flushed with embarrassment as he made his way to the front of the children.

  “I-I can do this.” The boy smiled as his feet rose a few inches into the air before he landed back on the deck with a thud.

  The children behind him giggled, and he turned to them, whispering angrily, “I’d like to see you do better.”

  “That was quite impressive, young sir.” Bertrand nodded.

  “Oh watch what I can do!” Mina ran through the other children and was back in a moment, holding a red flower the size of her hand.

  Staring at the flower with such concentration that her forehead wrinkled, the flower turned from red, to purple, to a bright pink.

  Soon all the children were clambering to show what magic they could do. One girl made herself light enough to climb the wall using only two fingers on each hand. A little boy juggled tiny balls of green fire. Maggie and Bertrand laughed and applauded as one child after another did their best magic to impress the guests.

  The mountains slid by, and the rowers kept pulling, moving them to unknown parts of the lake. The people on the roofs directed the rowers with arm signals, slowly turning the village where it needed to go.

  The children’s display ended with one boy pelting rocks at a girl who would block the pebbles before they could reach her with the wave of a hand.

  Maggie and Bertrand applauded along with the other children so enthusiastically that the two sparrers bowed deeply before taking their seats.

  “I think we have learned a great deal about your magic.” Bertrand stood and bowed to the children. “You have given us an excellent demonstration, but now if Miss Mina will show us a place, I would like to get a higher view of our travel.”

  “Best go fast,” one of the older children said urgently, “we’ll be to our new spot soon.”

  “Then time is essential,” Bertrand said as Mina took his hand and led him from the other children with a look of great importance on her face.

  She led them to the backside of the Fireside and pointed a
t the closest house. “You can go up there, but don’t go further. We aren’t supposed to leave the Fireside while we’re traveling.”

  “I assure you we shall stray no further,” Bertrand said, going into the house and straight up a ladder in the center.

  “Thanks,” Maggie said to Mina before climbing the ladder, more than a little grateful that Mina didn’t try to follow.

  The ladder led up to a trapdoor, which opened out onto the roof, giving them a view of the lake around them. They were headed toward a narrow entry between two spires. Maggie could see the shore behind the spires―a gentle slope that led from the water to the mountain miles behind.

  “I am pleased, Miss Trent,” Bertrand said. “I didn’t think you would be so good with children, and they have provided us a fount of information by your asking one simple question.”

  “What fount of information?” Maggie asked, holding her breath as the front of the boats that were dragging the village passed between the spires.

  “We know they do not have a language for their spells,” Bertrand began. “We’ve learned they train their children from a very young age. They use no talisman. We’ve also learned I was unfortunately correct in my assumption that they are sadly ill-prepared to fight Jax. The oldest of their children can do basic shielding against non-magical objects only.”

  “But it’s still a shield,” Maggie said. “I’m sure the adults can do more.”

  “The adults hide,” Bertrand said gravely. “The children can’t defend themselves. As soon as the village is settled I will ask Abeyla to meet with her best fighters. She knows I wish to offer my help, and, given their position, even the fighters should be glad to receive it.”

  “Okay,” Maggie said. “You help them prepare for battle, and what do I do? Please don’t say hang out with the kids more.”

  “You seem to have formed a, shall we say, close attachment to Tammond,” Bertrand said, not pausing or even seeming to notice when Maggie blushed bright red. “I will ask Abeyla if he can train you in their ways of magic. That way when the battle comes, you will be prepared to fight.”

  “What about you?” Maggie asked as the boat reached the inside of the cove and, with a whistle from the front of the village, rowers climbed back up onto the docks. “Won’t you need to know how to fight?”

  “My dear Miss Trent, I have traveled to many places and am much more adept at picking up different forms of magic than you are. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that when the time comes, I will be more than capable of assisting in the battle. Let Tammond help you. I will learn by teaching the fighters.”

  “Fine,” Maggie said, her stomach already fluttering at the thought of spending more time with Tammond.

  “But do remember, Miss Trent, our stay with the Wanderers may have lengthened, but we remain visitors in their lives.”

  “Yes sir,” Maggie said, wondering if Tammond would be able to find a private place to teach her the ways of the Wanderers’ magic.

  he magic is already in your mind,” Tammond said. He stood right behind Maggie, his breath whispering on her neck as he gently covered her eyes. “Magic runs deep in your blood as it does in ours. Feel it pulsing through you.”

  Maggie took a shuddering breath, trying to focus on Tammond’s words instead of how close he was standing.

  “Feel the magic in your hands. Find its texture, its warmth.”

  Maggie’s hands trembled in front of her. There was warmth; she could feel it. Like she was holding her hands on either side of a candle. But it didn’t feel like magic. There was nothing leaving her body, no energy being lost. Only the pale heat that didn’t feel like it had much to do with her at all.

  “Find the fire. Nurture it, and allow it to grow. Let its warmth surround you. Let it fill you.”

  But she didn’t want the warmth to surround her. She wanted Tammond.

  Heat like embers flew against her palms.

  “Ouch.” She pulled her hands away.

  Giggling sounded around the Fireside. Maggie moved her head to look at the sound, but Tammond kept her eyes covered.

  “It’s all right,” he said soothingly. “Just try again. Concentrate.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to focus if I could see,” Maggie growled to another round of giggles. “Or if I weren’t being watched by an entire village worth of kids.”

  “It’s nice to know some grownups aren’t very good at magic either,” a little voice said from the corner.

  “Mina, be nice,” another voice squeaked.

  “Now try again,” Tammond said.

  “Are you sure we couldn’t go somewhere else?” Maggie asked, knowing it would be no easier to concentrate on magic if she were alone with Tammond.

  “We’ll stay here for now,” Tammond said. “This is the room for learning, so what better place to start? Now concentrate.”

  The sun had begun to drift down toward the mountains before Maggie managed to hold the light in her hands. It had taken her hours to manage it with her eyes closed, and it wasn’t much easier to form the pale light with her eyes open. The sphere didn’t have much distinction. It wasn’t something that could be thrown or left to hover in the air and provide light. It was only a manifestation of magic.

  Maggie wanted to shout that a manifestation of magic wasn’t going to do any good when Jax came, but Tammond was determined that this was the way she must learn. And he stood so close, staring at her with his bright blue beautiful eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to argue.

  Finally, when everything was done, he let her sit next to the Fireside while he collected food for them. There was a dull murmur from the adults in the gathering place that Maggie wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t heard it before. Something had happened. Something the children weren’t supposed to know about, and something they didn’t want to tell her.

  Maggie stared at her hands on the table. In the warm light of the fire, they looked normal. The faint scars from fishing in the Siren’s Realm couldn’t be seen. There was no mark to show she held any magic. Just two pale hands against the dark wood of the table. Back home she could have thrown the table across the room. Burned it in an instant. Torn it apart and used the pieces to fight. But here she was helpless. Barely able to cast a basic spell.

  And she and Bertrand were supposed to help these people survive. Suddenly their whole plan for adventure seemed the most horribly selfish thing imaginable. They wanted adventure, but the Wanderers wanted to survive. How dare they think they could help?

  Maggie had just made up her mind to find Bertrand and tell him it was time to leave when a plate of food was slid in front of her. She looked up to find Tammond smiling down at her.

  “You did well today.” Tammond took a seat on the bench opposite her.

  “I made a bit of light.” Maggie ran her hands over her face. “I’m useless. It’s a waste of time for you to even be trying to teach me.”

  Tammond caught her hand in his. “Learning is never a waste.” He looked at her palm, tracing the lines that crisscrossed her hand.

  A tingle shot up Maggie’s arm.

  For the love of God, girl, keep it together!

  “And you are doing very well. Now eat, Maggie.” Tammond pushed her plate closer to her. “There is still a lot for you to learn. A whole library’s worth, in fact.”

  Maggie looked at the shelves of books. They were worn and had strange leather patches in places, like ancient bound books from back home. The books even had titles embossed on their spines.

  The Founding of Magic in Malina, A Light Within, The Magic of Others: Tales of Magic within Animals.

  “I can read the titles,” Maggie said, leaving her food uneaten on her plate and moving to the bookshelf. She pulled down The Magic of Others and opened to the first page.

  Though magic has long been known to flow through the blood of Man in Malina, it is also known that animals who share our land…

  “I can read the books.” Maggie ran her fingers along the wor
ds.

  “Reading is a fine skill to have,” Tammond said bemused.

  “But I can read your words, and I can speak to you.” Maggie shook her head, trying to think of her words before she spoke them to make sure it was English that was coming out. “Back home, there are hundreds of languages people speak, and I only know one of them. How is it that I fall from the Siren’s Realm into another world and I can speak and read your language?”

  Tammond considered for a moment as Maggie read another line in the book.

  Old fables suggest in times long ago, animals that possessed magic would align themselves with men, becoming their partners in the creation of magic.

  “Magic,” Tammond said finally. “The only reason I can think of is magic. The Siren’s magic allowed you to come to us. Magic has allowed you to speak to us.”

  Maggie nodded, slowly placing the book back on the shelf. “I’ll have to ask Bertrand. He would know better; he’s been so many places.”

  But the next moment all concern for magic controlling the words she spoke was washed away by a scream from the shore.

  ow dare you!” the voice screamed.

  Maggie ran out of the Fireside, pushing past the children crowded by the door.

  On the shore not thirty feet away, two of the Wanderers were standing opposite a man dressed all in black.

  “How dare you come to our village and make threats!” The voice belonged to a man from the Wanderers. His face was contorted with rage.

  “I have not come to make threats,” the man in black said. “I am a messenger of Jax Cayde. We have found your watchers in the hills. There is no one left to give you our warning. We have found your village.” The man turned to face the village. “I have come upon your patrol without their knowledge. You cannot fight us.”

  “We will fight you,” the second Wanderer on the shore spat. “All of us will fight you.”

 

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