Seeking Magic
Page 20
“Huh. It’s empty, guys.”
“Define empty?” Jazz asks.
“I can’t even see my reflection, just what’s behind me. There’s nothing else in there.” That’s… weird. I usually see more than there is to see in a mirror, not less.
Ben takes on my role of trying to understand the bigger picture.
“What’s the maze trying to tell you, Indy?”
“That I don’t exist? That I’m nothing in the grand scheme of things?” Which is good, right? It means I’m not the Seeker.
“No. Your reflection isn’t how the world sees you, it’s how you see yourself.”
I get it. The guys aren’t the only ones with issues. Groaning, I hide my face behind my hands and think. It takes a few minutes, but I work it out.
“I don’t see myself as part of your world. I don’t accept that I’m half-druid or half-caster. Or that I’m the Seeker. It’s a magic mirror, and I don’t believe I’m magic, so why would it show me anything else?”
“Nail on the head,” Zac says. “Now you have to show the maze that’s not true.”
“How?”
Jazz circles the edge of the cage until he can see my face. “You are magic, Indy. You are the daughter of a druid and a caster, you’re the Seeker of Seven, and finder of three.”
“You found me.”
“Yeah, and do you really think that was a coincidence? Just random chance? And then you met Zac. And Ben came into his power healing you. Either random chance sticks to you like lead to a magnet, or you are exactly who we think you are. It’s all well and good us saying it until we’re blue in the face. But until you feel it, in here…” Jazz taps his chest. “…you’ll never truly belong.”
His words cut deep. Because it has always been me holding me back, since I was a child, cast out into the world. My magic acted protectively by keeping people, good and bad intentions both, at arm’s length. I’m still doing that now, only I’m not a child anymore, and I have something I never had back then—control.
Jazz’s words echo in my mind. What had he said? ‘Blue in the face?’
“I have an idea.”
“Have at it,” he says. “You’ve got this, Indy.”
I close my eyes and try to picture what I would see if I were staring at my reflection right then. I’m still pretty freaked out with all that’s been happening, so my druid powers will have kicked into high gear, making me seem… ordinary. Someone ignorable, that your eyes would pass over without a second glance. That isn’t just random talent, a quirky ability I’ve picked up along the way. My mom passed that down to me. My druid side should be cherished, because it has been the means of keeping me safe all these years.
I open my eyes and there I am, dull eyes staring back at me.
One down, two to go.
“Um, guys? If changing my appearance really is druid magic, I think that means I’ve never tapped into my caster power before. How do I demonstrate something I’ve never used?”
There’s a bit of back and forth on that as the guys throw out suggestions, but it’s Ben who finally hits on something.
“Maybe you don’t have to tap into your caster power. Maybe you could tap into mine?”
“Can I do that? Don’t I already hijack your clairvoyancy?”
“Is there a rule that says you can’t do both?”
I’ve been assuming that the transference was only for one half of their powers, but what if I’m wrong? Whoever wrote the rulebook on this doesn’t seem fond of limits.
“So I just need to…heal... something?”
“Check your hands, your arms and legs, for any cuts or bruises,” Zac suggests.
I find what I’m looking for on my left wrist. Just a small scrape, like I caught it on a rock.
“Okay, what now?” I look to Ben for direction.
“Put your hand over it and focus on the cut, on healing it.”
I do as Ben says, closing my eyes and focusing on the tiny scrape. After half a minute of this, I crack my eyes open and peek under my hand. Nothing.
“It’s a lack of incentive,” Zac suggests, standing close to the edge of my cage. “It’s hard to draw on a power you’ve never used before, especially if you don’t have an urgent need of that power.”
“Guys, keep away from the walls,” I warn, picturing another blade stabbing someone to provide me with that incentive. Jazz and Ben give their surroundings a wary glance, but Zac’s attention is all on me.
“Blue, you need to relax and focus,” he says, stepping closer. “Don’t force it, just let it happen—”
His hand brushes against the edge of my cage and the light rushes toward him, sparking wildly. Instead of being thrown backward, he’s knocked forward, slamming through the cage and landing on the ground next to me.
“Oh, shit. Zac? Zac!”
I’m by his side in a heartbeat, turning him over. His eyes are closed, his body still, and his chest isn’t moving. I put my face close to his mouth as I press two fingers into the side of his neck. There’s no telltale puff of air, no pulse of his heart against my fingertips.
“Incentive, huh?” Jazz’s voice cuts through my panic.
“Fuck incentive, what do I do?”
“CPR,” Ben says without a moment’s hesitation. “Do you know how?”
I place my hands in the center of Zac’s chest and start pushing.
“It’s not going to work, Ben. This is a magic problem. It needs a magic solution.”
I glare at Jazz and look to Ben for answers.
“How do I heal him? How did you heal me and Jazz?”
“I put my hand on you and… I just did it.”
“Using magic is deeper than that,” Jazz argues. “What were you thinking? What were you feeling?”
Ben growls in frustration, his hand tugging at his hair.
“All I was thinking was that I didn’t want to lose you. That I care so much about you. That.... that I love you.”
I assume that last one is directed at Jazz, but I feel a pang of longing that he might mean me too.
“Magic works just as much from emotion as it does from power,” Jazz says to me. “Focus on how you feel about Zac, on how it would feel to lose him.”
I pause to give mouth to mouth, feeling awkward as I press my lips to Zac’s. It’s nothing like when we kissed, the first real kiss I’d ever shared with someone. Every moment since I met Zac has been a wild rollercoaster of a ride, but I wouldn’t change a thing, except this right here.
I count my way through a second set of compressions, focusing on how I felt that day we first met, when he took my hand and we ran to safety. When he kissed me outside the guild house. When we lay side by side on the grass in the park, like two lovers on a picnic under the midday sun.
As I lean forward to give him two more breaths, tears fall from my eyes and land on his cheeks. I press my lips to his, but it’s a kiss this time; a wish, a promise.
“Come back to me. I need you.”
My breath catches when it comes to me: my caster power was passed down from Archer. Archer, who can manipulate light with a flick of his wrist… and Zac is half-druid. It hits me in a flash of brilliance, and I raise my hand to the sky, twist my wrist, clasp my fingers tightly over the air and pull.
The bright light of the midday sun beams down upon us, eclipsing everything for one long moment. Zac jerks awake below me, drawing in a long breath of air.
The light ebbs away as I lean over him, looking him up and down.
“Are you okay?”
His eyes dart around for a moment before he smiles dazedly back at me.
“Never better, Blue.”
His hand slips behind my head, and he pulls me down into another kiss. There’s no comparison to the previous. His soft lips press against mine as he takes my breath away.
Someone clears their throat nearby and I remember we have an audience. I sit up slowly, giving the guys a sheepish smile. “Caster power, check.”
“One to
go,” Ben says. “And then we’re out of here.”
In theory, this last one should be the easiest. My Seeker power, the power to see, has always been something I could control. Of course, there’s only one problem.
I clamber to my feet, helping Zac up.
“I can’t do the seeing thing on any of you, remember? I absorb your power, I don’t reflect it.”
But as I turn, I catch sight of the mirror, my own reflection staring back at me. Gone is the magic mask, my blue eyes standing out starkly on my face that’s framed by my wavy hair. Maybe there is one person here whose eyes I can see through—my own.
36
Mirrors have always been a source of unease for me. I’ve never known quite what I’d see when I looked in one. Now I’m face to face with me. The real me, or as real as I know myself.
“Have you ever tried this before?” Zac is standing to the side so as not to get caught up in the reflection.
“Once.”
I was twelve years old and curious.
“What did you see?”
“Me looking at me looking at me looking at…” I glance at Zac over my shoulder. “It went on forever, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. My foster mom at the time found me, pulled me away, and I snapped out of it. I’d been standing there for hours. I never tried it again.”
But if it’s the only way to prove it to the maze, then I will.
“I’ll be right here to snap you out of it,” Zac promises.
“I know.” Sighing, I turn back to the mirror. “Piece of cake.”
I focus on my eyes, letting the intense concentration take hold as I try to see through them. The familiar feeling washes over me, and I know it’s working as my vision fades briefly. Only it hasn’t worked, not like before. I’m still seeing through my own eyes, but what I’m seeing has changed. I’m no longer looking at myself in the mirror, but at a little girl with deep green eyes. There’s something so familiar about her.
As I crouch down, I hear Zac move behind me. “Whoa, who’s that?”
“I… I know her. I think she’s me. Kid-me.”
“Then I might need to stop calling you blue, Blue.” I understand what he means. The girl’s green eyes are startling, and yet I’m certain I’m looking at my younger self.
“Druid magic, huh?”
I regard the little girl curiously. When I tip my head to the side, she does too. I smile, and she smiles back. When I reach out to touch the mirror, so does she. My fingers press against the cool surface, and the mirror turns liquid, a wave of blackness running through it. My childhood self vanishes from view.
“I guess that’s that.” I push to my feet and turn back to the others.
“Blue.” Zac stares past me to the mirror, his voice strangled.
I don’t want to know what’s put that look of fear on his face.
Slowly, I pivot around, taking a hurried step backward as I do. There, in the blackness of the mirror, is a closed eye. Underneath the monstrous eyelid, the eye moves back and forth.
“What—”
Zac’s hand clamps over my mouth as he whispers in my ear. “Shh. I think he’s sleeping.”
Who’s sleeping? Before I can ask, unable to tear my gaze away, I figure it out. Balor.
We stare at him, unable to move, afraid to speak. Somehow, I’ve called him here, yet he doesn’t seem aware of our presence.
“Indy,” Zac murmurs in my ear. “Look, the cage.”
Around us, the sparkling lights fall like raindrops, disappearing to nothing as they reach the stone floor. I’m free.
On tiptoe, we make our way off the platform toward the archway, out of sight of the mirror. None of us so much as whispers as we step through. Ben is the last to cross the threshold. The archway seals behind him, a solid wall taking its place.
There’s an audible sigh of relief among the four of us.
“Was that really Balor?”
“How many one-eyed monsters do you normally find in magic mirrors?” Jazz asks.
I’m about to retort when a breeze brushes past us, ruffling my hair and rustling the leaves of the nearby tree. We’ve reached our destination.
We fall silent as we take in the oak. It stands tall and majestic, looking old and yet young at the same time. I can’t help but feel drawn to it. Power, raw and earthy, spills from it, out into the air through its leaves and down into the earth through its roots. I can see it, can feel it pulsing beneath our feet.
“Wow.”
“Huh. It’s bigger than I was expecting.” Jazz cranes his neck as he stares at the treetop.
“Can you feel that? Can you feel how alive it is?”
Ben looks to me as he asks. I know what he sees in his mind. That same image plays relentlessly through my own head—the tree engulfed by fire, blackened to its very core, and surrounded by the burning embers of the city.
The tree knows death is coming for it. Knows Balor is coming. And we are its best defense.
“Did we pass the test?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Zac says.
“I wasn’t asking you.” I fold my arms and wait. “Well?”
An old man steps slowly around the trunk of the tree, regarding each of the guys in turn before his gaze falls on me.
“We’ve waited a long time for a Seeker to reach us.”
He gestures us forward.
“Please, proceed.”
“And do what?” I’m not budging until I get some answers.
Instead of the condescension or amusement I expect in the face of my defiance, there is only weariness in the druid’s eyes.
“You want to know who you are. That is why you came here. The Seeker shares the essence of her magic with the tree. Touch it and you’ll know.”
I hem and haw for a moment, my gaze darting uneasily between the old druid, the guys, and the oak tree. But this is what Archer sent us here to do. I haven’t come all this way to return empty-handed.
Striding forward, I reach out and settle my hand against the rough bark of the tree trunk. Nothing happens.
Grumbling, I let go and step back.
“What does that prove?”
The odd sound of wood splitting draws my eyes back to the tree just in time to see a crack form in the bark of the trunk.
A trail of light escapes. It twines and curls its way toward me. I take another hurried step back, but I’m too slow. It slams into me, a wave of intense power and emotion almost knocking me off my feet.
From me, seven offshoots of rainbow light escape, each a winding mix of two colors. Three of them reach for Jazz, Ben, and Zac. I watch their faces as the magic hits them, awe and wonder in their eyes.
This is like the ultimate power-up, and I understand now why Archer sent us here. The magic coursing through me feels like an old friend. It seeks out and draws in my three favorite guys. The four remaining tendrils of magic hover there, lost, adrift. We are incomplete.
“Well now, isn’t that a pretty picture.”
I jerk my head around. The old, tired druid is gone. In his place is a smiling woman who looks only a few years older than me.
Jazz steps between me and the stranger.
“Uh… hi. Where’d your grandfather go?”
Her smile becomes a grin. “Oh, the old, powerful druid is a little disguise I like to throw on when I have guests. Keeps the tourists happy.” Her grin fades. “But you guys are definitely not tourists.”
“Your maze has issues.”
She tries to hide her smile at my words.
“If it was easy, anyone could waltz in here. Besides, we had to be sure.” She glances at the tree, her eyes stormy, before her gaze turns back to us.
“I’ve seen what you see. Balor is waking up. War is coming.” She paces back and forth in front of us as she speaks. “And you are incomplete.”
“We’re working on it,” Ben promises.
“Work faster. Balor has never manifested inside these walls before. He’s growing stronger.”
She stops right in front of me, her eyes searching mine. Her hand cups my cheek.
“You weren’t abandoned, Indigo. You were saved.”
It aches somewhere deep inside to hear it said out loud. My eyes flick to Jazz. He’d said something similar, hadn’t he? Before we knew what I was.
“It didn’t feel like that to me.”
“Would living death have felt better? Caught on the edge, never truly at peace, never fully awake. A life lived in torment.”
“I guess not.”
Her smile turns fond.
“You look so much like your mother. You have her eyes.”
“You knew her?”
“I met her a long time ago. And yes, I’m older than I look.”
She steps away and presses her palm to the trunk of the tree. The magic flowing between me and the others slows to a trickle and fades away. But I still feel that connection pulling us together, just like I can feel the four empty echoes inside me. Maybe I’ve always been able to feel it.
“You’ve had a long night. Say your goodbyes and head home,” the druid lady tells us.
I decide on a moment of quiet introspection in lieu of actually saying goodbye to the oak tree. Jazz’s hand slips into mine as we turn back toward the maze, which does us the courtesy of opening up a series of archways in the walls so we can walk straight out.
“We didn’t catch your name,” Zac says politely as we file out.
“It’s Morwenna. Remember, the tree’s roots run deep. When you most need magic, you will find it.”
With that cryptic send-off, she wanders away toward the tree, humming under her breath.
I lean heavily on Jazz as we walk, my eyes drawn to his torn shirt and the blood staining it.
“Are you all healed up?” I gently brush my fingers over the wound.
“Right as rain. Ben’s got the magic touch, literally.”
Ben groans from behind us but doesn’t argue with that. I glance back to see that he’s got Zac’s arm slung over his shoulders, supporting him as we make our way back. All four of us slip into the car. I take the back this time, with Zac.