by Anne Zoelle
It would be the perfect start to my morning if I ended up with rock hard ultramarine-colored waffles because I was still fretting over stupid Alexander Dare. Fretting had kept me awake even after finally linking in the last room ward with Olivia six hours ago.
Dare's parting words had been anything but reassuring. But I had to admit that Olivia and I wouldn't have been able to do the wards without the energy recharge he had given me. With a free finger, I touched the beam of ultramarine attached to my chest. It vibrated in the midst of my grateful thought. Weird.
I rubbed my eyes, then yawned into my hand as Olivia emerged from the bathroom. Despite our mutual exhaustion, we were far more relaxed than we had been before the wards had gone up six hours ago. Protection and unity of purpose. United and strong.
In addition, I had a feeling that the calming magic on campus had kicked into our room, finally. But Olivia didn't seem concerned, so it had to be fine.
“Do you want me to—” I yawned again, and pointed to the microwave, “—put something in for you?”
Olivia was already dressed, all in sharp black. “And have it turn me into a reptile as soon as I eat it? No, thank you.”
I examined the box through bleary eyes. “Reptiles? Can it do that?”
Olivia's outfit changed into sleek gray threads as she re-examined the lethal pair of boots she had magicked on. “Who knows what your magic would do,” Olivia said, apparently satisfied with her boots and matching deadly apparel.
I wondered if I could get a bunch of small, talking reptiles to dress me as if I were Snow White. That would be useful, and a fun way to start the morning.
The box dinged. My waffles looked great. But I grimaced at the arboreal salamanders staring up at me from both sides of the heating box. I knew what they were—last term I had zapped twelve offenders into different types of salamanders courtesy of Justice Toad's amphibian magic. But shouldn't I have gotten, at least, a tiny mutant crocodile here? Stupid magic. Stupid thoughts.
I carefully scooted my plate away from contamination, then scooped up the salamanders, opened the window, and waited for them to stick to the stones. They scampered down the outer wall of the Magiaduct toward freedom.
They hadn't even tried to braid my hair or sing lovely songs. I closed the window, sighed, then washed my hands.
Five hours was an eternity of sleep for me these days, but we had used a lot of room magic and drained some of the strings that normally rejuvenated us while we slept. Olivia’s deadly apparel matched the dark circles under her eyes.
But Raphael hadn't tapped into my dream bubble last night. And not even a blip of a nightmare had threatened other than continual, mortifying dreams of Dare. Better not to think about those—who knew what my magic would do.
Satisfied with her outfit choice to wear later in the day, Olivia changed back into the comfortable, loose fitting garments I had gotten her to wear in the First Layer when it was just family hanging out. In order to completely set the wards we had constructed, we couldn't leave our room for sixteen hours.
Which meant I didn't have to risk running into Dare until dinner—an added bonus.
Lunch came and went with us eating Magi Mart fare and chatting companionably.
Ding.
I wrapped a section of hair around my finger and flipped pages on top of my reader, looking for anything interesting to add to the wards, or anything we might have missed. I loved being able to have electronic books magically pop up into real books. And wow, but that calming magic was working overtime. I barely even remembered what to be concerned about.
Ding.
“Something is in there for you.” Olivia waved a hand toward the black delivery box.
I blinked at the studded metal box, and indeed, a small orange light was blinking at the top. Orange indicated a delivery for me, purple for Olivia.
But I hadn't ordered anything and no one I knew on campus ever sent me mail. Most people I dealt with were serial rule breakers, and wouldn't risk exposure to identification spells.
I opened the heavy, wrought-iron door. A brown, wrapped package sat inside. I stared at it, thinking hard on what it might be. It gave a sudden hop and I took a hasty step back, breaking through the shell of calming magic. Trepidation sank in.
It was possible for someone to send me something through campus post simply by knowing my name—campus magic worked with the blood and magic enrolled students gave, connecting it to the personal magic in rooms.
“Liv, how do you check mail?”
Her pen stopped scratching her page. “What do you mean?”
The package gave another hop. “For bombs and things.”
Olivia heaved a sigh and started writing again. “The postal magic won't let anything harmful go through.”
Two hops.
I tapped the magic of my leather bracelet's encyclopedia and started mentally scrolling through information on postal spells. Will had made the bracelet for me to replace Christian's leather band, which had burned to ashes when I had saved Will from my Awakening sketch. The package started jumping up and down in agitation. I scrolled faster.
“Now that you've acknowledged the package, the magic will pester you until you accept it. It doesn't like uncompleted tasks.” Olivia flipped a page in her book.
The interior of the delivery box started to emit heat. Postal topics flipped from one to the next in my head. Acknowledging, accepting, addressing...
When the warmth from the box approached combustible levels, I grabbed the furiously hopping parcel. The package went immediately dormant in my hand, cool to the touch. I shut the door and leaned against it, eying the parcel warily.
Nothing happened. “Can you choose not to open a delivery?”
Olivia shrugged, still not looking my way. “As long as it is out of the delivery system, you can do whatever you want. Spells can be attached to attract your notice and encourage you to open something, but they are easy to uncover.”
There was no address information of any kind on the package. “Nothing harmful can be delivered?”
“Not through the box. Through other means, yes.” Olivia's shoulders stiffened strangely.
“But not through the box.”
“Yes, Ren.” Exasperation.
I scratched the back of my neck, turning the package in my hands. It was neatly wrapped. Precise.
“Oh, for—” Olivia shoved out of her seat and held out her hand.
I looked between the package and her hand, then sighed and began unwrapping it.
Olivia's hands went to her hips. “I thought you weren't going to open it.”
“Yeah, well, if it is dangerous, I don't want you to open it and get hurt instead.”
Something unreadable passed through Olivia's eyes. Her arms crossed over her chest.
Beneath the brown paper was a wooden box containing a glass orb. Gold and white light drifted inside the orb like gentle lightning trapped in a container. My fingertips stroked it automatically. It was beautiful.
Olivia's arms uncrossed as she stepped nearer, seemingly drawn to it as well. “A lightning blast. A very expensive one.”
She must have read my blank expression, because she continued. “A firework core. For the Lightning Festival. Haven't you heard anyone talk about it?”
Something vague tugged at my memory, but I had been pretty busy thinking about other things in the past few days. “Maybe?”
“We were supposed to be in the First Layer tonight with your parents.” Her gaze turned slightly wistful. “I guess I hadn't given it much thought what we'd do in the First Layer on the eve of the new year. But here the eve is used as the night to remember and reflect upon the past year.” Her voice softened. “To remember those you've lost.”
Our gazes held, then she carefully lifted the firework and examined it. “Traditionally, it is an internal reflection of releasing the souls of the departed. Mages also use the Lightning Festival as a time to cast hopeful wishes for the new year.”
“That sounds...” I cleared my throat. “I like that.”
She nodded, still looking at the swirling lightning. “This is a very fine core. Craftsman grade. Expensive.” She set the firework back in my hand. “And it is made to be personalized. We are stuck here for another three hours and I can see your brain is starting to seep from your ears. Look up enchantments on your reader. You can put as little or as much of yourself into the firework as you wish.”
“Do you know who sent it?”
Her eyes narrowed and she picked up the wooden box, turning it in her hand. “No. Didn't it say?”
I shook my head. The list of people who knew I had lost someone was short, though, and didn't require anonymity. My thoughts must have been obvious, because Olivia regarded the firework even more closely.
“You think Verisetti sent it?” she asked.
“Maybe.” Especially after blocking him successfully—the timing of the gift was suspect.
She didn't bother to say that he couldn't get anything through the mail system—the man had shown up in our room, despite being on a blood-and-magic list of people who should have no access to campus. Olivia immediately started casting spells. A revelation spell and origination spell failed to reveal anything. But a dozen others proclaimed the intentions around the firework to be good and well-intended.
Unfortunately, Raphael frequently thought his intentions for me were good, and that pain was beautiful.
Olivia shook her head, lips pinched. “Someone took pains to remain anonymous. Not very like Verisetti, I think. If he sent it, though, then he truly means no harm by it. Not even of the emotional kind.”
“Probably not him then.” I smiled tightly.
“Are you going to use it?”
I looked at the firework. A remembrance of those lost? A litany of images of Christian formed. The firework brightened in my hand seeking to automatically absorb the trapped memories yearning for freedom. “Yes,” I whispered.
I had let Christian go. I had done the right thing and he was at peace. I knew this. But that didn't mean I didn't miss him. I thought on Olivia's words—an internal reflection of releasing the souls of the departed. Grief and Grieving would approve. And I vaguely remembered seeing a section on festivals in the index.
I hugged the firework to my chest. Regardless of who had sent it...it was mine now. I set to work.
~*~
After the sixteenth hour, the wards were fully bound and Olivia went to speak to her adviser. I finished up my firework configurations a little before sundown. Luckily, the firework's core was supposed to do most of the work.
Holding the beautiful orb to my chest, I walked among the mass of bodies heading to different sections of the mountain. After exhaustively reading up on the festival, I was beyond ready to experience it. The sheer number of fireworks was bound to be astonishing—wishes, hopes, and remembrances waiting to be released.
Emotion choked me in anticipation, and I hugged my firework a little tighter. A celebration of Christian's life and a remembrance. I could do this.
More than one narrowed gaze hesitated on me as I passed. How much more time did I have as a free woman? One month? Two?
The calming magic whispered at me not to worry. I embraced it, because worry wasn't going to motivate me any more than my determination already did.
I hiked down from Dormitory Circle. There would be no bad viewing area, but there was a small area filled with jagged boulders above the ski slopes that was rarely populated. That would be a perfect place to watch and reflect.
Alexander Dare was with a group carrying an arsenal up the hillside. Two boys lugged a large slate-gray box and were joking about dropping it and lighting the mountain on fire.
Dare's gaze met mine, then dropped to the singular object clutched to my chest. I wasn't the only one carrying a single firework, but I realized there was something very telling about having only one and traveling alone. I looked away before I could see his reaction.
A few steps down, I stopped. Why was I separating myself? I looked around. It was a personal event to many—there were mages holding vigil on the running track on top of the Magiaduct, their legs crossed, eyes closed, and lips moving in the wind. They had probably been there all day—yet there was a sense of sharing. The promise of lightening a load. The magic in the air was growing so thick that it was almost tangible.
Turning, I hiked past the combat mages again, who appeared unable to take their arsenal through any arches. My magic led me to the large Third Circle field where I easily found Neph, Will, and Mike. I tugged on the thread that connected to Olivia. She arrived minutes later, as if she had been waiting for me to call—as if this connection had always existed as a way to contact each other.
I couldn't put into words any of my thoughts, but when our shoulders touched, I realized words weren't needed on such a night.
The magic running through the crowd tapped me politely. In the mood that I was in, I didn't question it or let it concern me, I just opened myself and let it sift through me, connecting Mike to Will, Will to Neph, Neph to me, me to Olivia, then from Olivia to the next person in the crowd, then on and on, connecting our entire community for this one night.
Just as the sun's rays dripped the last bit of red onto the horizon, bursts of blue and white lightning split the sky. Fireworks lit the air, one boom after another. Every color and shape was alive, breathing around me. The blooms lit the landscape for miles around as the bangs echoed over the countryside, and reverberated around the circumference of the mountain, enveloping all of us within the bursts of light.
The opening fanfare released one last burst. A pause. Then a single flare lit the air. Emotion seared through the communal connection—fear, beauty, acceptance...and for a moment I saw a face and the intense love that the person who released the firework held for that person. The light twinkled out, and another took to the air—regret, surprise, denial. This one held no image and was tinged with undiminished sorrow. Another was of pure joy. An embrace of having had their person in their life for even a moment.
Each blast held personal significance, making every eruption different as we shared the emotions. Sadness, affection, despondence, hopefulness. It choked me. Being a mage—when it wasn't terrifying—was wonderful.
The maker and enchanter of each firework left their mark on the crowd in an all-encompassing net of beauty, celebration, and memorial. A slight pressure pushed upon me, an indicator that it was my turn.
I released my sphere and it lifted. Lifted with my sadness and longing, my love for my twin and my devastation at his passing. Connected to my magic, the firework dipped at each of my internal sorrows and lifted at the loving memories that passed through my mind. The communal connection would only experience the color, flavor, and spirit of my remembrance, but the memories played like a movie montage for me, ending with Christian throwing a football to me in the backyard, laughing as I tumbled into the garden plants, then cheering as I held the ball high, flat on my back. Always catching what the other threw, always supporting each other, always pushing each other to greater heights.
At that moment it didn't matter who had sent me the core, or for what purpose it had been sent. It was my firework, my remembrances, and I ached as I watched.
It bloomed white, then gold. Then burst in a thousand points of beautiful glitter and dust.
~*~
After returning to our room, I picked up the journal that connected to one my parents had in the First Layer. The journal was filled with careful observations and anecdotes of magical life and humorous bits and stories I picked up. Nothing emotional or revealing.
I had needed to hide so many things last term. And still, this term I had secrets I couldn't share with them, but I could share my emotions. My fears and hopes.
Tonight...tonight had reminded me that even when things were strained or painful...I was not alone.
I picked up my pen.
Dear Mom and Dad, tonight the magical world held a celebrati
on called The Lightning Festival. A celebration of the coming year and a reflection of the year past. A time to remember those we love and those who have passed. It was both lightning and lightening.
I took a deep breath.
I miss Christian. I sometimes wake up with a dream to tell him on my lips. And a little piece of me dies each time I realize the emptiness of that reality. And yet I continue to awaken. I continue to dream. And I try each day to fill my new reality. Not to fill my emptiness randomly and meaninglessly, but to choose a positive, meaningful path.
I thought of Christian's parting words to me. That we would see each other again. And after tonight I believed them once more. The feeling strengthened within me, healing another piece of my broken soul.
And it reinforced my resolve.
It took me awhile to fall asleep with my thoughts and emotions running rampant. But when I woke, I felt clearheaded for the first time since being back on campus, and I knew what I needed to do.
Chapter Thirteen: Friends and Foes
Dorm One was not my favorite place, but it was past time I paid it a visit.
I stood in front of the door, debating what I was going to do and say. He might not even be awake yet, but I could almost feel a presence on the other side of the solid barrier, waiting to see what I decided.
Down the hall, a dark-haired girl exited a room and pretty emerald eyes immediately zeroed in on me, narrowing. I had sketched her face into my mind many times—the girl who had watched me the other day, the girl to whom Inessa Norrissing had been ranting, the girl with the lilting voice who I had attempted to sit with on my first visit to the cafeteria.
Dorm One was fraught with old-money magic users. Dare probably lived around here somewhere. But I couldn't let that matter.
The girl continued her narrow stare, raking me over from head to toe. I turned my attention away, uneasily deciding to ignore her and focus on my task.
