Magic and Mayhem

by S. Usher Evans

White, then the person is healthy and hale;

  Yellow, then the person is sick or in distress;

  Red, then the person is losing blood;

  Black, then the person has perished.

  I held the brush in my hand and concentrated, releasing magic from my palms into the strands of hair. I felt the connection with Marie, the white glow of her healing magic that permeated her DNA, somewhere far away.

  Gavon had once said that magic moves faster than light and in more ways than was explainable by nonmagical science. So it was no surprise that the hairbrush vibrated almost immediately, and then flashed a pure white.

  I dropped the brush to the floor in relief. Marie was safe, but that didn't mean I could fully relax. The New Salem baddies weren't above playing a long game. I could see the strategy now—come declaring peace and a willingness to learn, befriend me, then, just when I trusted them, rip the carpet out from under me.

  But now I knew my sisters were alive and well, and my house was secure. I finally released the last bit of tension from the bottom of my lungs. Exhaustion weighed on the back of my eyelids, but something else was growing. Anger.

  My fingertips glowed and I let the feeling of control take over. I was a Warrior, damn it. And if James Riley thought he could come into my school and do…whatever evil thing he wanted to, well, he had another thing coming. I wasn't a gullible teenager anymore.

  Four

  I returned to school filled with fire and two shots of espresso. Between the panic attack, sparring with myself the night before, and flitting all over the city, my energy was waning, but black gold was all I'd needed to perk back up. As expected, James was already in my fifth period class, making small talk with two girls who'd zeroed in on him.

  I leveled a challenging glare at him as I settled in an empty seat to observe. I would figure out his game, nip this distraction in the bud and send him packing back to New Salem before the week was out. Then I could refocus my efforts on college and reiterate to Gavon that I wasn't to be messed with.

  "Tonight, you asshole," I said, cornering him as soon as the class let out. "Sparring beach. Let's settle this once and for all."

  "You want to fight me?" James said. "Are you sure?"

  "Are you sure?"

  "Be there at seven," he said with a small shrug.

  In hindsight, I wished I'd said four instead of seven. For one thing, the adrenaline disappeared around fifteen minutes after I left school, leaving me with a headache.

  For another, my brain filled with scenarios and worries about what would happen if I failed. If James killed me—or worse, took me back to New Salem.

  My panic came back with a vengeance as I wasted the hours pacing in my bedroom. I knew, intellectually, that ruminating over the past would simply weaken me and leave me less able to concentrate during my duel. But anxiety is a dragon-like bastard and doesn't listen to reason.

  Instead of being productive and gathering my strength, I tortured myself by replaying the day Cyrus had killed Jeanie. I could recall with vivid clarity every second of that day, from the argument about Gavon to finding Cyrus in the park to waking up in the jail cell. The horrible, cold realization that I'd always known Gavon was my…f-word. On top of that, finding out he was the Guildmaster and apparently had big plans for me. The fear I'd carried as I walked into the sparring ring, the dashed hopes that Gavon would put a stop to it and let me go home. The relief when my Gram had appeared to rescue me—even after I'd done something to piss her off (the details remained vague). The false feeling of security when I'd gotten home.

  The terror when Cyrus appeared in our kitchen. The horror when an attack spell ended Jeanie's life.

  I shook my head to keep the images out, but they crowded in anyway. Her open eyes, staring back at me. The guilt of knowing it was my fault she was gone. Knowing I'd be next. The need to get my sisters away from him, to get them somewhere safe.

  Hearing my mother's voice in my head as my magic recalled the day she'd died fighting him.

  It was that magical memory that had given me such sparring prowess. My mother had used my magic when I was in the womb, and it had left an impression, allowing me to tap into the memory and fight Cyrus. That night had left me near death, but thanks to Marie's healing and Nicole's potions, I'd survived.

  Unlike Jeanie.

  Guilt pressed around my throat and I fought to keep the tears from falling as I did another lap in my bedroom. Could I have done more? Could I have knocked the attack spell out of the way? Even with my magical memories, though, I was still a novice. I didn't have the reaction times or skills Cyrus had.

  Which was what had prompted me to seek out magical books to become better. I'd vowed that no one else would die because I couldn't protect them.

  I finally sat down on the floor next to my bed and summoned my texts. Most of my library had come from Gavon, but I'd added to the collection recently, thanks to the discovery of a store in New Orleans. It had been serendipitous, really. A week after Marie had stormed out of the apartment, Nicole announced that we should take a road trip over to New Orleans and have a girls' day. The old bookshop had been crammed between two tourist trap shops, and Nicole, never one for reading, had left me to my devices. In the upstairs section, I happened across a magical book that had spells and charms for protection.

  Every time I'd gone back to the store (magically), there was another book that had been almost exactly what I'd needed. Three trips in, I found the book with the incantation to summon a magical form to spar with. Another trip, a book containing a look-away charm. It had been a nice substitute since…well, since my usual source of books had disappeared completely.

  I chewed my lip, panic giving way to anger at Gavon. How terribly fitting: he didn't show his face for eighteen months then sent his apprentice instead.

  "Lexie? You home?"

  Crap. Nicole was early. I stood and wiped the remaining tears and worry from my face. If Nicole even suspected something was wrong, she wouldn't let me out of her sight.

  I jumped up and bounded out of my room before she could happen across the pile of books on my bed. I met her in the hallway and closed the door behind me.

  "Oh, you're here," Nicole said with a frown. "Don't you have tutoring today?"

  "I…" Crap again. "Had to cancel." I needed to call my student and let him know something had come up.

  "Are you sure you're feeling all right? You scared me today."

  "Oh, sorry about that," I said with a fake smile. "First day jitters."

  "You said you were on your period," Nicole replied, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "Lexie, what is going on with you?"

  "I'm fine. Just being weird today."

  "You're not this weird." She was in full-on Mother Mode, if the look on her face was any indication. "Lexie, you need to take a break. You don't need to worry so much about Georgetown. There are better schools that don't cost as much money—"

  "Nicole, I promise you, I'm fine." At least hearing her talk about Georgetown had snapped my brain out of panic. Her dissuasion was like catnip to my stubborn side. "And stop telling me I'm not good enough to get into Georgetown."

  She pursed her lips. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm trying to tell you that killing yourself to get into this one school isn't a smart decision."

  "And I'm telling you this is what I want."

  She crossed her arms over her chest. "At what cost, though? You'll be paying off student loans until you're ninety. Not only that, but you're turning into a basket case. You show up at work, sweaty and clammy, and you're sending me texts making sure I'm all right. Are…" Her eyes widened. "He's not back, is he?"

  Shit. "No, Nicole."

  "I'm serious, Lexie. If he's back, you have to tell me."

  "He's not back, I promise you."

  I hated myself for lying to Nicole, especially since that had caused everything to go to hell in the first place. But if everything went according to plan, James would be sent packing tonight. Once he was out of t
he picture, I might mention it to Nicole. Some day. In about fifty years.

  "Fine," Nicole said with a face that said she still didn't believe me. "But promise me you'll take it easy this year."

  Fat chance. "I will."

  I arrived at the beach almost an hour early, more because I couldn't sit in the apartment with Nicole for much longer. She thought I was having some kind of mental break, so she was more suffocating than usual. I'd mastered the art of hiding my panic attacks and nightmares from her, but I was out of practice lying about New Salem. And to be honest, I didn't like betraying the one family member I had left.

  The beach still bore the black skid marks of my sparring session the night before, and I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. I hadn't even noticed I was still about half-empty. Perhaps agreeing to duel tonight wasn't the smartest idea I'd ever had.

  Also, perhaps lying to my potion-making sister wasn't too intelligent either. Although Nicole wouldn't have brewed me a healing potion as much as something to prevent me from leaving the house.

  I plopped down on the beach and waited two seconds before getting up and pacing. I was on edge, waiting for the sound of an incoming transport spell, readying my magic.

  When seven came and went, my panic went into overdrive.

  Was this some kind of ploy? Some way to get me off guard? Oh, but if he thought he could fool me, he had another thing coming.

  I was the only thing standing between my family and this bunch of lunatics, so if I failed… I didn't want to think about it. I wouldn't fail, I would—

  "Alexis."

  I froze, all fight draining from my body like water down a roof during a downpour. He wore dockers and a collared shirt—the same sort of clothes he used to wear when we'd sparred together. His dark hair—the same color as mine and Nicole's—had become a little grayer, but his eyes held the same kind, patient gaze that had sucked me in from the very first day.

  To keep myself from falling for it a second time, I forced anger into my words. "Where's my dueling partner?"

  "There will be no duel tonight," he said with a stern glance. "And I'll thank you not to request any more."

  My heart thudded in my chest. I couldn't believe his mere presence affected me more than the duel I apparently wasn't going to have after all. Forced to choose between an explosion of questions, tears, hysteria, or anger, I chose the latter.

  "Are you afraid your stupid apprentice will get what's coming to him?" I asked, balling my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms.

  Gavon sighed, and it almost sounded impatient. Damn, but he looked so much like Nicole. "You know better than to agree to duel. It's a good thing you're both still under my purview and I could annul it."

  "I'm not under your purview," I snapped.

  "Since you don't belong to a clan, and you're my daughter, yes, actually, you are."

  That word plucked something deep in my gut and zapped my anger, leaving a stunned, unsure numbness.

  "In case you've forgotten," he continued at my silence, "agreeing to a duel means that you are magically bound to the outcome. Therefore, you and James would've had to fight to the death."

  "I know," I forced out.

  He quirked a brow. "Are you that eager to die?"

  "Are you that sure I wouldn't kill him?"

  Gavon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alexis…this isn't what I wanted to happen."

  "Then why the hell is he here?" I barked.

  "To learn."

  I kicked the sand beneath my feet, a bit of an attack spell going with it. "For once in your life, Gavon, don't lie to me."

  "I'm not lying," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "The truth is that James is arrogant, selfish, petulant, and most worrisome, incredibly powerful. He's the only Warrior born to our guild in almost half a century. He knows he's going to be next in line for the Guildmaster, and he's never had to work for it. I don't want someone like that taking over an already volatile group of magicals."

  I couldn't argue with any of that, but, damn, I wanted to. The relief of seeing him again was threatening to overpower my better sense, so I dug my fingernails harder into my palms.

  "And I thought there no better way to humble him than to enroll him in high school." Gavon smiled, a little smugly. "After this first day, he already seems taken down a few pegs. Turns out not everyone is as amenable to his charms as in New Salem."

  I had my doubts about that. He seemed to be the apple of every girl's eye. "And you'd just let this egotistical, powerful magical loose in my school without any supervision?"

  Gavon tilted his head to the side, a curious smile teasing the corner of his mouth. "In your anger, it appears you neglected to notice he is without magic."

  My face grew hot. Knowing magicals from nonmagicals was something I hadn't yet figured out, another gaping hole in my magical education. And though part of me wanted him to tell me how, that ship had sailed.

  "I promise, James is simply here to attend classes. He will not cause you, nor your classmates, any trouble."

  "Then why not ship him away to another school?"

  "On the off chance he does cause trouble, I wanted someone around to set him straight." His gaze warmed a bit. "You've become incredibly powerful—"

  "Save it." I was already halfway to forgiving him for the unforgivable and if he started pandering to that voice in my head that craved his approval, I'd be done for. So I stuffed my feelings with steel wool and leveled my gaze at him. "If he steps one toe out of line—"

  "I trust you'll handle it."

  "I will."

  The son of a bitch actually smiled at me and my traitorous heart did a backflip. "I'd expect nothing less. Whether you want to hear it or not, you've become quite the force, Alexis."

  "My name is Lexie."

  "I prefer Alexis."

  "You don't get to have a preference anymore," I snarled, finally finding the anger that had been set aside. "After you let my aunt die."

  Something unreadable crossed his face. "I'm truly sorry—"

  "No. You aren't. Because if you were, you wouldn't have let it happen. Like you let it happen to my mother. And you also wouldn't have disappeared for the past eighteen months and left me to deal with it on my own." My anger was speaking for me, and I was about to throw a spell or start bawling. Either way, I needed to leave. "You just make sure James knows I've got my eye on him."

  Before Gavon could even respond, I transported back to my room just in time for my emotions to barrel through my defenses. I collapsed onto my bed as my anger dissolved into thick hot tears that dripped down my face. I muffled my wails with my pillow, knowing I couldn't lie to Nicole about what had set me off.

  It was easy to paint him as some nameless, faceless evil that had destroyed everything I loved when he was back on his side of reality. But hearing his voice, seeing his movements, all that conjured up visions of those beautiful weeks before he'd shown his true self, when all I'd wanted was his approval and guidance. He'd been everything I'd ever wanted until the bottom fell out.

  After everything he'd done, and not done, I should've hated the very ground he walked on. And I did, but at the same time, I craved a few minutes in his presence. But really, all I wanted—all I'd wanted for two years—was an explanation.

  Why hadn't he told me? Why had he trained me? Why didn't he stop Cyrus from killing Jeanie? Or trying to kill me? Why was my mother targeted all those years ago? Had he been really just using her, or was there more to the story?

  I was afraid to hear it, though. I was afraid that what he'd say wouldn't make sense, that it would reveal some other, horrible truth. I was done digging for answers when people told me to leave it alone. And yet, I needed to know.

  "Lexie? Is that you?"

  I jumped at Nicole's voice on the other side of the door. Hastily wiping my eyes, I hoped I didn't look too blotchy. "Y-yeah, it's me."

  She knocked then cracked open the door. "Where've you been? Have you been in here all this time?"
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  I licked my lips. "Yeah, got back a few hours ago. Been studying."

  Nicole glanced at my bed, where the leftover magical books lay sprawled out on the bedsheets from this afternoon. There wasn't any time to glamour them into something different.

  "Lexie, I thought you weren't reading magic anymore," Nicole said, leaning against the doorframe. "Don't you have tons and tons of homework?"

  "Yeah, just had a question about something," I said lamely. "Got caught up in reading. You know how that goes."

  Her expression was unreadable. "Yeah, I know how that goes. Just make sure you get your homework done."

  I could've kicked myself as she closed the door behind her. I was still putting my foot in my mouth when it came to my sister's potion-making magic. But I needed to be more careful with hiding these new developments. Gavon may have promised peace, but I knew better than to trust him. I just needed to figure out his end game before anyone else got hurt—or worse.

  Five

  When I arrived at school for my second day, it hadn't burst into flames. Kids walked up and down the halls like normal. Nobody was screaming in terror. There was no sign of the apocalyptic scene I'd been dreading. In fact, James stood in front of his locker, considering his books like everyone else in the hallway. He glanced in my direction for a split second, but that was all the attention he paid me.

  At first, I thought it was because Gavon had said something. But as the day wore on, I realized it was because I didn't matter to him, not when there were girls in every class giving the new guy the starry-eyed treatment. As expected, Super Hot plus New meant he was immediately popular. He certainly didn't seem eager to hurt any of them; quite the opposite in fact.

  Which begged the question: How did a boy who'd grown up in a world stuck in 1692 fare in the modern world?

  To my utter annoyance, better than me.

  He remained quiet during classes, not offering answers to any of the questions, except once in physics when he was called upon. In between, he was usually swamped by people, asking him questions about his likes and dislikes. Once I'd stopped glowering at him and actually listened, I realized he was giving a lot of non-answers and vague replies. To the normal ear, this was typical of a seventeen-year-old and probably added to his air of mystery.