Wild Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  Fox’s movements still and adrenaline washes through my body. I have to get to him. I have to. Abandoning my focus on the ring entirely, I turn my will inward. Seth may have my magic, but he doesn’t have all my abilities. Like using my mind to undo the ropes that bound me earlier, I see in my mind’s eye the result I want: the free and unrestricted motion of my body.

  Fox moans and my right pointer finger twitches.

  It’s working.

  I imagine a pulse of energy shooting from my finger up my arm, coursing through the rest of my body, waking it. My muscles relax and I know it’s working. One glance at Seth shows he is unaware his spell’s effect is dissipating—he’s too focused on the magic he’s wielding now. I wiggle my toes before pulling myself up into a crouch. Owen’s eyes widen but I shake my head. I need the element of surprise. Seth stands a yard away, his face skyward. Fixing my eyes on his ring finger, I launch myself at him, knocking him off center. He stumbles, releasing a surprised holler. I grab around his wrist with one hand and yank my ring off his finger with the other. It slides off the tip as he collides with the ground. I curl my fingers around the ring, relishing its weight in the palm of my hand. The barrier between me and the spark of magic inside evaporates. I don’t wait for Seth to react, rushing instead to Fox. Owen is already crouched at his side, his fingers pressed against Fox’s neck. My blood runs cold as I lock eyes with Owen, terrified of what he will reveal. It seems a geologic age passes before Owen nods, a tight, pained smile almost imperceptibly tugging the corners of his mouth. My pent-up breath rushes past my lips in a relieved sigh. He’s still alive. And he’ll be okay now—Seth can’t complete the spell.

  “Help me, Owen.” I hook my arms under Fox’s armpits and tug at him, but his body barely budges. He’s heavier than he looks. I glance back at Seth, but he hasn’t moved from where he landed on the ground.

  Owen displaces me, imitates my posture, and hoists Fox to a sitting position. “We should go check on the others,” he says, grunting. “They all dropped on the way here.”

  “The others?” Had the rest of the circle come to help, too? I peer through the black night but can’t make out their forms against the ground.

  A low chuckle builds behind me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand at attention. I turn to see Seth, reclining easily on one arm, like he’s relaxing on a day at the beach. He clucks his tongue. “You think you’ve beaten me, but I assure you, you’re already too late. The spell is complete.” He inhales deeply, his chest expanding. “With every moment that passes, the energy from the crystal—my energy—is making it back to me.”

  My muscles coil and my jaw clenches. I rush at Seth, wanting to rip the smug expression from his face, but with a wave of his hand he sends me careening to the ground. My hand opens when it slams down, the ring bouncing out into the grass. I groan as I press myself to my hands and knees, skimming my fingers over the blades of grass and twigs in the vicinity, searching in the darkness for the familiar circular shape.

  “Zane’s death was an unfortunate loss—one I don’t intend to repeat.”

  I stiffen, peering at Seth. “You mean the spell won’t kill them?”

  He draws his knees to his chest, resting his arms casually around them. “You misunderstand. They shall all still die. With Zane, I was unprepared. I could have absorbed his abilities before they melted back into nature—as I did with Alec Crawford and Millie and Crystal Taylor.”

  Seth doesn’t need to spell out what this means. I’ve already sensed the power within the crystal. That alone is a formidable amount of ability. Add that to the magic contained within the members of the circle and he’ll be too powerful to challenge. Unstoppable.

  My fingers brush against metal and I pick up the ring, slipping it onto my finger. Immediately, my muscles lock up again. Has Seth cast the immobilization spell again? He didn’t even move. But unlike last time, my body doesn’t freeze. Instead, it is as though someone else is controlling my movements. Stiffly, my body stands up from the ground, and my arms lift to the sky, like Seth’s had earlier. Out the corner of my eye, I see Owen imitating my posture, his limbs moving with the same jerky quality. Slowly, like an inexpertly controlled puppet, Fox rises to his feet, his head bobbing lifelessly, his chin to his chest, as his arms reach heavenward.

  I’m sure Seth is doing this to us, but that idea is shattered when his face twists into a mask of fury. He stands, his mouth moving, but I don’t hear his words. My mind fills with voices murmuring words I don’t understand. They repeat the same phrase over and over, an echo building in my skull with each recitation. There are male and female voices and there’s something familiar about them, but I can’t place what.

  Heat radiates from my ring, burning against my skin. Whatever is happening isn’t Seth’s doing—it’s emanating from the ring. I allow my body to relax into it, to let the words in my head wash over me. This ring was my father’s and his before him. It’s been passed down in my family for generations. I imagine the combined power of all those ancestors filling me, coming to assist me in this moment of need. In the past, Levi and his grandfather from my visions joined together to rid their town of a person with evil in his heart. They joined together to overcome Seth. Maybe they’re reaching out across time to help fight against him again.

  The kernel of magic in my core flares, filling me with fire and ice, whipping through me like wind and supporting me like the earth beneath my feet. My consciousness rips open, images pouring into my mind, flipping by so quickly I can’t discern more than colors and forms. Fear clouds my head, punctuated by flares of hope, elation, and anger, before giving way to peace, like a tranquil lake winking in the summer sunshine.

  My arms drop to my sides, the voices disappearing from my head. Seth’s eyes are wide and wild, panicked. His gaze darts between me and Owen—Fox has dropped back to the ground in a heap. Every cell in my body vibrates, like I’m in tune with every bit of energy in the world. I feel a cool, rough pressure in my left palm and look down. There’s nothing there, but the phantom feeling remains. The crystal. I’m not sure how I know it, but it’s nearby. Crystal Jamison is clutching it. I turn to Owen, who is looking at his left hand in confusion. “Go get it!”

  His eyes lock on mine for an instant before he takes off toward the river’s edge, heading upstream along its bank. Seth raises his arm—he’s going to pull him back like he did when I tried to escape. Instinctively, I raise my hand, wanting to knock Seth over, to distract him from the spell he’s casting. Owen stumbles once before Seth falls flat on his back, grunting as the air rushes from his lungs. He pushes against the ground with his elbows but I reach my hand out, pressing him against the earth with an invisible force.

  “What did you do?” Seth thrashes futilely against the ground. “Your magic isn’t this strong!”

  He’s right, the abilities I’m displaying are beyond me. It feels similar to when I channeled the psychics’ energy earlier during the spell in Seth’s apartment, but it’s more than that. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I accept the power now. I need it to fight him.

  He struggles again, attempting to curl his body upward to sitting. The pressure of his movements reverberates through the air into my palm, like the movements of a fly transmitted through a spider’s web.

  “You’re still too late.” He grunts, pressing his forearms into the ground beneath him and forcing his torso into the air. The movement echoes through my hand and through my body. “Each moment, I grow stronger. Do you hope to use the crystal’s magic against me? You can’t.” He plants his palms on the ground and manages to sit. The force of his motion knocks me back a step.

  “I’ll stop you. I’ll find away.”

  He grunts with exertion. “Your ancestors thought the same thing, but, as you can see, they were unsuccessful. What makes you think you’ll be able to accomplish what they could not?” Slowly, laboriously, he drags his legs toward him. My hold on him is weakening—either that, or he’s growing stronger w
ith each passing second. “Unless you plan to kill me.” His upper lip curls and he narrows his eyes. “After all, you’ve killed once already.”

  His words are like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. My tenuous control over him slips and he stands in one swift movement. You’ve killed once already. The truth of the statement stabs my heart. Zane is gone, his fate sealed the moment I started the spell to break the circle’s connection to the crystal.

  But it was never my intent to hurt him—to hurt anyone. It was all Seth, all his desire to regain his power. Rage bubbles through my veins. He’s the one who’s ultimately responsible. How dare he accuse me of murder? If there’s one person who deserves to die as a result of all this, it’s him.

  The fire in my body connects to the flames of the bonfire. I focus all the heat, the hate, on Seth, and the fire shoots up like a pillar before twisting down like a snake. Seth’s eyes lock on mine, wide with surprise, as the serpentine figure strikes out toward his body, encircling him.

  “Krissa!” Owen’s heavy footfalls draw my attention. He holds the crystal toward me limply, his eyes full of reflected firelight.

  I open my mouth to explain, but when I turn back, the fiery snake disappears in the blink of an eye, leaving emptiness where Seth stood. I scan the vicinity, but there’s no trace of him—his body—anywhere.

  “He just disappeared,” Owen murmurs, bumping my arm with the crystal.

  The only other time I’ve heard of someone winking out of existence before was at West’s house with the psychics. Felix mentioned it my first day there. “Bilocation.” I shake my head. Of course. Seth wouldn’t chance someone being able to capture him. By bilocating, he could keep his physical self safe from harm while conducting the spell here.

  The spell.

  I turn, grabbing the crystal from Owen’s hand. Although physically it feels the same as it always has, the energy of it is off—less intense. Still, I can sense a tremendous amount of magic still trapped within it. And I know what I need to do—what I should have done the first time I thought about it. “We have to discharge the energy from the crystal.”

  “Wait—what?” Owen closes his hands over mine, covering the crystal. He looks down at Fox who remains in a motionless heap. “What about…? Will what happened to…?”

  “Zane…” My throat constricts. “He was using magic when I tried to separate the circle from the crystal. Seth said separation was best because it would cut them off from the magic in it. But of course he wouldn’t want to discharge all the magic—he wanted it back for himself. If we push the magic out of here, it’ll just go back out into nature, where anyone can use it. He won’t be able to absorb it into himself because it won’t be his.”

  Owen’s face is tight. “And the circle?”

  I squeeze my eyes closed. In truth, I don’t know what will happen to them. I have to believe they’ll be okay—after all, they won’t be cut off from the energy, it’ll just be stored somewhere else. Seth can’t be allowed to absorb all this power—who knows how many more lives he’ll take in the name of “cleansing” the town. I open my eyes, covering Owen’s hands with my free one. “It’s our only shot.”

  After a beat, he nods. “What do we do?”

  I take in a breath. “I’m not sure if you can help—you’re not a witch. But… can you feel the energy inside the crystal?”

  He nods. “I—I think so.”

  “Okay. Connect yourself to the energy and push it out—into the world around us.”

  “What—that’s it?”

  The energy inside the crystal shifts. Seth is still drawing on it. “It’s the best explanation I can give. Just—follow my lead.” I don’t wait for him to respond. Closing my eyes, I focus on the power stored in the stone resting in my hand. I just have to force the energy out.

  Jolts of energy shoot through my palm and up my arm. My instinct is to drop the stone, but I resist, squeezing it tighter. Heat radiates off the crystal, searing my skin. I bite my lower lip to keep from crying out. It’s as if the quartz has a mind of its own and is fighting against my efforts to rid it of its energy. Pain spreads through my arm, cresting over my shoulder and filling my chest. My body shakes violently in protest, my grip loosening.

  “No!” I squeeze my fist, crying out in pain when Owen crushes his hands over mine. The power of the crystal is trying to overwhelm me, but I can’t let it—I have to push it back. I have to succeed for the circle.

  For Fox.

  An icy chill builds in my center, flowing outward, combating the heat invading my body. The cold pushes it back, out of my chest, over my shoulder, past my elbow, into my hand. I take a deep breath, calling up all the energy within me, all the power of the raging bonfire, of the rushing river, of the night breeze, of the earth beneath my feet. “Get out!”

  A flash like lightning shoots out of the crystal, connecting with the ground beneath it. I scream as the pain of a thousand knives rips through my hand. I lose my grip on the crystal and fly backward; Owen’s hands slips from mine as he is launched in the opposite direction. I land on my back several feet away, the air knocked from my lungs by the impact. I struggle to draw breath, unable even to take in a shallow gulp for what feels like minutes. Finally the dam breaks and cool night air rushes in. I inhale and exhale deeply several times before sitting up. Owen is still flat on his back and I struggle to his side, crawling with the help of only my left hand, my right in too much pain to place weight on. Panic rises with every inch nearer I move.

  He groans when I shake his shoulder, opening his eyes and squinting against the firelight. “Did we do it?”

  The crystal rests in the center of a scorched patch of earth several feet away. We crawl to it and I pick it up in my left hand. “It’s… it’s just a stone. There’s nothing left in it.”

  A smile breaks across Owen’s face, but my elation is trampled by another thought. “Fox.” I scramble to his side and pull him so he’s flat on his back. My fingers tremble as I reach for his neck, afraid of what I’ll find. What if there’s no pulse? What if he’s—

  Owen places a hand on my shoulder. The gesture gives me the strength I need to touch my fingers to Fox’s skin. Nothing. A sob rises in my chest as I move my fingers to the hollow spot just below his jaw, pressing my fingers more firmly to his flesh. Oh, god, what have I done…

  A slow, rhythmic thud pulses beneath my fingertips and another sob claws its way out of my mouth—this one of relief. I bury my face in Fox’s chest, tears overfilling my eyes and dripping onto his shirt.

  “He’s alive.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I stay with Fox while Owen checks on the other members of the circle. I should go with him, I know I should, but I can’t bring myself to leave Fox’s side. Owen’s hurt—his jealousy—flares through me as he leaves us, but I can’t allow myself to dwell on it. My feelings for Fox are real, and although they hurt Owen, they’re not something I can just turn off. Sorting out my feelings toward Owen versus my feelings toward Fox is a problem for another day.

  I remain pressed against Fox’s chest until after my tears stop flowing. I come back to myself by degrees—first aware of the night air nipping against my exposed skin, then the fatigue of my muscles, and finally of the searing pain in my right hand. When I investigate my palm, I immediately wish I hadn’t—the skin is shiny with angry red blisters. A small price to pay for Fox’s life.

  Fox moans and I pull away, giving him space to move from side to side. After a few seconds, he opens his eyes a slit, curling his body toward a sitting position but stopping before he’s even halfway upright. “Krissa? What happened?”

  I can’t suppress a smile as I reach for his face with my left hand. “Later,” I choke, my throat constricting as fresh tears spring to my eyes. I wipe at them with the back of my right hand, wincing. “Can you stand?”

  With much effort and assistance, Fox manages to get to his feet. I pull his arm over my shoulders and help him shuffle in the direction he
and Owen first arrived from. He’s brimming with questions, but he keeps them to himself, giving me the space to tell him what happened in my own time. I’m struck by the clarity with which I know the things going on in his mind. I’m not even trying to use my psychic side. Maybe I’m still amped up from everything with Seth?

  Murmured voices float through the darkness as we follow the bend in the river. My heart swells: Voices mean people. Voices mean the other members of the circle are okay, too.

  Slowly, Fox and I make our way to where the others are gathered, in a small clearing just beyond the river’s bend. A wave of irritation washes over me when Owen catches a glimpse of the two of us and my cheeks burn.

  Fox stiffens and our shuffling progress halts. “Are you… embarrassed?”

  I press my hand to my cheek automatically, even though there’s no way Fox can see my blush. In addition to the fact that the light of the waning moon is unlikely to reveal the color in my cheeks, Fox is much taller than I am and completely unable to see my face from his angle. “How do you know that?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just… feel it.”

  It’s my turn to freeze. If this comment came from Owen, I wouldn’t give it a second thought, but Fox isn’t s psychic. He shouldn’t be able to sense my emotions.

  “Krissa!” Crystal’s voice cuts into my thoughts and I turn to her, glad for the distraction. She hobbles unsteadily toward me, launching herself into my arms when she’s close enough. I return her hug as best I can, trying not to throw off Fox’s balance. She squeezes me tightly before holding me at arm’s length, her eyes burning into mine. A dozen emotions play out over her face and her mouth twitches like she’s trying to come up with the right thing to say. Finally, she settles on, “I should’ve listened to you.”

  Anger, irritation, and regret all swirl through me. The urge to punch her face is strong, tempered only by the equally strong urge to pull her in for another hug. Moonlight catches the tears filling her eyes and I sigh. “Let’s go home.”