Stolen Magic (Aurora Academy 1)

by Hannah Wick

  STOLEN MAGIC

  Book 1 of the Aurora Academy Series

  Hannah Wick

  This is a work of fiction. The characters and events described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or to living persons alive or dead. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

  Cover by Creative Cover Book Designs.

  Copyright © 2021 by Hannah Wick.

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter One

  The day had barely started, and I’d already had three cups of coffee. I stared out of the window from my dresser, twirling the purple pendant dangling from the gold chain around my neck, my stomach twisting into knots. It wasn’t like me to be so nervous. Then again, starting a new university was a big deal. Was I making the right choice? I wasn’t feeling as certain as I had when I sent in my application. The closer the day came, the worse my nerves got, until they felt stretched to breaking point.

  “Right, Kiera,” I said, stepping away from my window with a roll of my eyes. “Because it has nothing to do with the insane amount of caffeine you’ve had this morning.”

  I reached over and cranked up my music, determined to drown out my illogical anxiety one way or another. Almost at once, the floor banged three times. My foster carer’s delightful way of asking me to turn my music down—which I ignored.

  At least it meant she was up, I supposed. She was waking up later each day and not looking any better for it. As for my best friend, I hadn’t heard from her in several days. Lately, that seemed to be a growing trend. My long-term boyfriend, Greg, had proven to be just as absent. I glanced at the clock on my dresser. It was almost ten–not too early to do something about it, starting with giving Suzie a call, and then maybe paying Greg a visit. Being proactive would make me feel better. I turned my music down, and listened as the phone began to ring.

  “Hey, Suzie!”

  “Hi, Kiera,” came a strained reply.

  “Are you all right? I didn’t catch you being busy with anything, did I?”

  “No. Of course not. I’m just—” Suzie broke off with a yawn, “—tired. Are you looking forward to tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. What about you?” I asked, “Are you ready?”

  “I packed my bag already.” She didn’t sound overly excited.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to wear?” I had my outfit hanging ready on the wardrobe door. It was a long black dress. It was new, and I couldn’t wait to show her.

  “Have you heard from Greg, lately?” she asked. I frowned. I hadn’t, but we’d both been busy. Sure, it might be my last day before starting at uni, but that didn’t mean I expected him to drop everything to hang out with me. I’d still be around.

  “Not for a week or so.” A high-pitched trill, short and business-like, cut the conversation short. “Hang on a moment, Suzie. There’s someone at the door.”

  Before I could get downstairs to answer it, Vicky shouted up the stairs to me.

  “Kiera, you have company!”

  I rolled my eyes. I said goodbye to my friend, then hung up the phone before heading down the wooden stairs and along the narrow hallway towards the lounge.

  “Kiera, get down here!” Vicky shouted, again.

  “I’m coming. You don’t need to yell.”

  When I entered the lounge, my foster mother and my social worker were already halfway through a conversation. Their voices were low, but not so low I couldn’t hear them discussing what seemed to be their new favourite subject recently—me. Or more specifically, my shortcomings.

  “Kiera should have her powers by now,” my foster-parent, Vicky, insisted. “I don’t know what to do.”

  She was short and frail-looking, with pixie styled hair and hazel-brown eyes. Lately, she had been more tired than usual. She coughed into her tissue and groaned.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, frowning. They continued their discussion, as though they hadn’t heard me. I mean, I was standing right there.

  “Look,” Hildegard, the social worker said with a sigh; this conversation was clearly one they’d had more than once. “She may never get them. At least give her the chance of having a normal life.” Hildegard was older, with streaks of grey highlights in her otherwise long, curly, black hair.

  “So, that’s it?” my foster carer asked. She looked ready to give up. She sounded like she already had.

  “No, of course not, Vicky. She has only been eighteen for a few months. I will do a different test today. Even someone with the smallest amount of magic should be able to pull it off. If she fails this, then we can start looking at a non-magical life as a normal mortal girl.”

  I cleared my throat. I was standing right here - not that you’d know it from the way they were talking.

  “You know I can hear everything that you are saying, right?”

  I shoved my sleeves up, then leaned back against the wall, waiting. I stared idly at the dark red wallpaper, resting my hands behind me, against the white line that ran around the middle, breaking up the dark red from the violet half of the wallpaper.

  “Sorry. It’s adult talk. It’s nothing for you to worry about. Shall we get started?”

  Adult talk. The same line they always fed me. What could be so bad about me that I couldn’t be told? And when were they going to stop treating me like a kid? The doubts that had stopped me getting a good night’s sleep for the last two weeks nagged at me again. Was I broken? Did other people have to take these tests so frequently? It wasn’t like I had any way of knowing – Vicky had kept me well isolated from the rest of the supernatural community, shutting me down every time I tried to raise the topic.

  I dreaded these tests, and the results were always the same. Nothing ever happened. Maybe Hildegard was right – I should focus on living a non-magical life. I would much rather be hanging out with Suzie, anyway. No-one made her do ridiculous tests every other week.

  I had a hundred things to do, and this was a total waste of my time. It was always the same. Try to move the feather and then try to cast a single spell. Last time, I tried to manifest a light shield. But the results were always the same. I was unable to make a simple spark of light or a shimmer of what she was trying to do, and the feather never moved. I couldn’t understand why it was taking so long for me to handle a simple task. I was sure, though, that eventually, I would get my powers. I simply had to wait. Besides, I had only just turned eighteen.

  I groaned. “All right. Let’s get this over with, then.”

  Hildegard pulled out a feather and placed it on the hallway shelf. “Hold out your hand and call for the feather.”

  I held out my hand, reaching for the soft white feather. I thought about the weight and the texture of the stem, and the soft ruffles against my skin. Focusing hard as I could, I called out for it.

  “Feather.”

  The same thing happened that had happened every other time I’d attempted this test. Absolutely nothing. It remained resolutely still on the shelf.

  “That’s okay. We expected nothing to change on that test.”

  I closed my eyes. Next, she would normally ask me to conjure a light shield. That too usually did nothing but leave the unpleasant taste of failure in my mouth. I would raise my hand above my head and say the words ‘Lumen Decarium’ – and barely produce enough power to light a candle.

  “For your next test,” Hildegard said, her hawklike eyes fixed on my face, “I want you to find your aura.”

  �
�My aura?” That was new. “How am I supposed to find my aura? I don’t know what it looks like.”

  “It’s easy.” She gave me what I’m sure was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “Focus and clear your mind. Now, reach out and stretch your hand in front of you.”

  I nodded, doing as she said. “Now what?”

  “Now, your aura will appear like an outline around you. See past the tip of your fingers and focus on it.”

  I sighed. The idea seemed ridiculous. I took a deep breath and exhaled, focusing on the tips of my fingers for something resembling an outline. Though, I doubted this would work either.

  After giving it a few minutes, I relaxed my hand and dropped my arm down to my side with a shrug. “I’m sorry, but all I can see is my hand and my fingers. I feel ridiculous.”

  The social worker frowned. “All right, you can leave now. I will talk to your carer for a minute.”

  I eyed them wearily, nodded, and left the room. I paused, then pressed my ear to the wall. I wanted to hear what they were going to say about me. It wasn’t like I was going to find out any other way.

  “I don’t understand. I was sure that it would have worked.”

  “With the aura? What was it supposed to do?” Vicky asked.

  “Even the weakest of witches can see their auras. But not to see anything at all? It’s highly unusual. I am afraid she may never get her powers.”

  I blinked, feeling my throat tighten and my mouth go dry. Never get my powers? That would be awful. With no powers, who or what would I be? Then again, perhaps living as a normal human being wouldn’t be so bad. After all, wasn’t that exactly what I’d been wishing for a few minutes ago? Wishing and actually getting, though, they were two entirely different things.

  “Well, I hope they are happy with themselves, after what they’ve done to her.” Vicky’s voice was loaded with frustration.

  “I think they are anything but happy.”

  “Is there anything I can do, or haven’t done, that would help her move her powers along? Give them a nudge, perhaps?”

  “I am afraid it will be too late. She has already come of age and if there is no sign now, it is not likely to happen.”

  I gasped. What could have stunted my powers? I frowned, letting the conversation sink in. Vicky said she hoped they were happy with what they had done. For the life of me, I couldn’t work out who they were speaking about. There was definitely something fishy going on, and one day soon, I was going to demand some answers. But right now, I needed to be on my own.

  I raced up the stairs, into my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me. Reaching out, I called for my writing desk drawer to open, screaming for it to obey. Nothing. I grunted, yanking the door open myself. The whole damned thing came right out, its contents scattering over the floor. I gazed down at the mess I had made on my purple carpet through a wet, watery blur. I blinked back tears and lowered myself to the ground, picking up the stuff I had thrown. Among the papers and notes was a small leathery book. I swallowed hard, feeling the familiar ache in my chest. It was my parents’ grimoire. They had asked me to take care of it. I hadn’t looked at it in years, let alone used it. And maybe now I never would. I felt a lump in my throat and swallowed irritably. Now was not the time to feel homesick. I had a university to get ready for. I glanced at the time on my watch; it was almost noon. Greg would be home by now. I pulled on my shoes, made my way down the stairs and slipped out of the front door.

  Chapter Two

  Greg lived on a quiet, elegant street, with a line of well-pruned trees planted all along the road. Post boxes with names printed on the sides in gold lettering protected the mailman from over-excited dogs – not that most of the residents around here would let a dog spoil their immaculate homes. Chuckling at the thought of the prim and proper Mrs Fitzgerald covered in mud and dog hair, I turned down the ninth driveway. Greg had lived here for a little over eighteen months. With him being a year older than me, it was refreshing being around someone who was a little more mature and thankfully passed the phase of excessive gaming. I shuddered. The theme tunes of Garden Wars still haunted me.

  I walked up the driveway, creeping across the stony gravel so I barely made a sound. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he heard me coming.

  Taking the key out of my pocket, I let myself in and closed the door behind me. I paused with a frown, taking a look around. It smelled different from how it usually did. Was that… perfume? It didn’t smell like mine. I shook my head, shaking off the uncomfortable sense of suspicion and intrusion. I was just being paranoid. He always said I was paranoid, and I didn’t need to be proving him right on my last day in town. Maybe his mother had come to visit. I smiled. It had been a long time since they’d last seen each other. I put my handbag by the front door and made my way through the large hallway, my heels tapping against the black-and-white tiles as I went.

  The living room was empty, but a small lava lamp was lit in the far corner. I switched it off with a shake of my head. Sometimes, it was like dating a caveman. The purple lava lamp was a present from his sister, as a housewarming gift, though Greg seemed to forget that it had an off switch. Behind the lamp, two mugs were on the table, almost touching. One had lipstick on the rim. Again, I frowned, studying the pink smear. There was something familiar about the shade. Something that niggled in the back of my head.

  “His mother had a coffee,” I whispered. There was nothing suspicious about coffee. I picked the mugs up and took them to the kitchen, setting them on the side next to an open bottle of wine, half empty. Stop being paranoid. Just… stop it!

  But I couldn’t. My mouth was dry and my hand shook. This was stupid. There was a logical explanation. There had to be. I went back into the hallway and climbed the stairs in a trance. Towards the bedrooms.

  The hallway, at the top of the stairs, was covered with a thick, lavish carpet - black, with flecks of silver. I helped pick it when he decorated last month. I loved how it made the carpet sparkle in the light. He said it reminded him of how I made his life sparkle. As I made my way across it, I stopped outside the second door. It was closed, but I could hear the distinct sound of someone giggling and gasping. My throat swelled up. The sound of creaking springs bled out from behind the door. I froze, hand halfway to the doorknob. Do I burst in and see who he is with? Do I confront them? What do I say? Perhaps I should walk away and pretend it never happened. Dammit, Kiera, grow a backbone!

  I grabbed the knob and pushed the door open a crack. Through the small gap, I could see Greg in bed under the covers. And a pair of feet that didn’t belong to him. Women’s feet. There was no doubt, now. I couldn’t deny what I was seeing. Even if I was just to walk out. And there was no way I was going to do that. I loved him. But this? This was too much.

  I shoved the door open the rest of the way, my eyes stinging, but my voice came out strong. Furious.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  The woman on top of Greg snapped her head round. My eyes doubled in size, and shock hit me like a fist to the stomach. I stumbled back a step. The woman’s amber coloured eyes stared back at me, with her red hair covering half her face.

  “Shit!” She rolled off Greg’s naked body, snatching the blanket to cover herself up, and opened her mouth to speak again, but I cut her off.

  “Suzie.” Her name stuck in my throat like bile. “How? Why?!”

  I wasn’t even sure who I was asking. The guy who broke my heart and cheated on me, or my best friend who betrayed me with the love of my life. I took a shuddering breath, staring at them both. No matter what they said, it wouldn’t change anything. They’d made a fool out of me. I straightened my back and glared at them.

  “How long has this been going on?” I demanded.

  “Not long, I swear,” Greg said, snatching up his clothes. “A few months, that’s all.”

  Months. They’d been lying, cheating, and betraying me for months. I blinked and sucked in a breath. Even the air tasted of their betrayal.
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  “How many months?” I spat each word at them.

  “Four months. But, I swear, it wasn’t planned. It just happened!” Suzie insisted, as if that was meant to reassure me – make me feel better. She took a step towards me. I stepped back.

  “Don’t come near me,” I hissed.

  Greg yanked his clothes on, covering his muscular body. He looked from me to Suzie and back again, and his face took on an arrogant sneer.

  “This isn’t my fault,” he said. “You made me do this.”

  I snapped my head towards him, feeling my face flush red – with anger. My skin burned as my fury rose to the surface. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard. This is not my fault. This is all on you.”

  I could have slapped him. I could have thrown him through any number of windows. Instead I stood rooted to the ground in disbelief.

  “Really? Because last time I checked, I wasn’t the one rolling around in bed!”

  “Exactly. If you had been a little less frigid—”

  “Frigid?” I screamed. The lights flickered. My body shook. My flesh tingled with anticipation. My whole body vibrated. “Frigid!”

  “Yeah, you heard me. How long have we been dating? How long did you expect me to wait, Kiera? No, this is on you. If you paid me a bit more attention, this never would have happened.”

  “How dare you?” I whispered. The lights flickered brighter. Wind howled outside in sympathy, and I could hear it harassing the trees. The glass plane creaked under its pressure, and I shrieked above all the noise. “How dare you blame me? I have done everything to keep you happy. I have sacrificed everything to keep you from having your jealous tantrums. And this whole time, you’ve been fucking her?”

  Lightning flashed, thunder cracked, and the house plunged into darkness.

  I swallowed hard, trembling from head to toe. I couldn’t stand another minute of being in the same room as them.

  “You want each other so much?” I glared at Greg, and then Suzie. “Then you can have each other! I’m done with both of you. I swear, I will never forget your betrayal.”