“Now the Dark Council and the Mage Council have combined, how is it they can get away with still using magic like that? Isn’t that in violation of some sort of agreement you have?”
“One would think so, but they feign ignorance, and not all cities have found the merging of the Mage Councils to be quite as smooth as we have here in Minneapolis.”
“Is that sarcasm I detect?”
“It was quite thick, so I would hope so.”
“It hasn’t been easy?”
“Changing centuries of behavior will never be easy. I should be satisfied with them allowing me a place on the Mage Council, though in that case, it is somewhat dependent upon the fact I helped stop an attack and did manage to rescue the Carters.”
“Kate has used that word before. What does it mean?”
“The Carters are those of each magical species who are responsible for helping maintain the integrity of the Veil.”
I stared at the wand. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Having something like this in my possession would be helpful, but it also ran the risk of danger. If I allowed it out of my reach, someone else may get a hold of it and would then be able to use the wand.
“What happens if someone else were to use this?”
“You wonder if there’s a way of removing the runes I placed?”
“Pretty much.”
“I am unable to do it. There is one person who can, but I have a feeling she will not argue with what I have done.”
“I’ll be careful with it.”
“I know you will.” He smiled, the age fading from his face as he did. It did leave me wondering how old he actually was. He could be my grandfather but knowing that magic users aged differently—especially knowing how Kate’s grandparents looked no older than her parents should have looked—I had to wonder exactly how old Barden was. He had mentioned coming from a different time, and if he was even a hundred years old, that would be a considerably different time. What if he was 150? What must he have seen during his lifetime? “How about we see whether you can use this?”
“What should I start with?”
“Seeing as how you have now been attacked twice, I would prefer you attempt a defensive measure. It serves two purposes. One, it would allow you to escape, and if nothing else, you might be able to startle the person that thinks to attack you. And the other…”
When he didn’t continue, I looked up from my study of the wand. “What about the other?”
“The other would alert me to the fact something has happened.”
“You’ll know when I use the wand?”
“Unfortunately for you, Dr. Stone, there will be no way for you to practice without me being aware of it.”
“Then I won’t practice.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t helpful, either. You need to be able to understand what the wand can do for you.”
“Does it have to be a wand?”
He frowned at me. “Why?”
“I’m just thinking it might be easier if I didn’t have something so noticeable.” I tapped my wrist, motioning to the bracelet I wore. It was smaller and had a singular purpose that allowed me entry to the condo. Would it be possible for me to have a bracelet that acted like a wand?
“You don’t like what I’ve made for you?”
He sounded hurt, and I couldn’t tell if he was playing or was serious. “It’s a lovely gift, Barden, but I’m thinking about how I’m going to be able to work if I’m carrying around a wand like this.”
“Then don’t carry it.”
“I’m not comfortable with that, either. I don’t have any way of locking it somewhere, and if you’re giving me this to ensure my safety, I want to make certain it will keep me as safe, as you intend.”
“I suppose it might be a little hefty, but the weight of the wand allows for it to manage the power that flows through it. The stronger the mage, the more resistance the metal must provide, a conduit of sorts.” He turned his gaze from the wand up to my face. “What were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. If I’m going to use it to protect myself, I was wondering if maybe a piece of jewelry that wouldn’t be quite as obvious would be helpful. A bracelet or necklace or something along those lines.”
Barden frowned. “Similar to the charm Dr. Michaels gave you?” When I nodded, he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I will see what I can come up with.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m thankful for this.”
“Perhaps there might be something I can offer that would provide an element of defense. I will put some thought into it. For now, I think you should practice.”
I raised the wand, not sure where to point it. Anywhere that I would aim it would end up striking something in the living room. Should I aim at the couch? I could only imagine what Kate would say if she came home to a couch destroyed by me practicing with a magic wand. I didn’t want to aim at the TV; that was my relaxation in the evenings. Aiming at the floor would only destroy it, and if it worked, maybe I’d open up a hole between this floor and the next.
“You don’t have to fear damaging anything. I have placed a protection entirely around us.”
“Like a magic bubble?”
“Something like that. In this case, I would consider it a magical barrier. As you will be drawing upon my magic, it is unlikely you would be able to overpower it. I would suggest you find a safe space to practice where you don’t need to risk damaging anything.”
“Such as where?”
“Someplace open.”
“And yet, not too open.”
“Of course. You don’t want to risk the kind of questions that could lead to someone knowing what you have.”
“I was more concerned about someone finding the wand and taking it.”
Barden waited, and I gripped the wand with one hand before deciding to wrap my other around it. When I’d attacked before, I seemed to think I’d gripped it with two hands, though the wand I had used then was larger, and had more power within it. Then again, from what I remembered, that wand was also composed of power from more than one mage.
Maybe it would be helpful if I had a wand like that. I know Barden didn’t want me to use power from anyone who didn’t provide it willingly, but what if they had done?
Then again, the wand was meant to protect me until I managed to understand magic of my own. If that time never came, I appreciated him providing me with this weapon, mostly because it would keep me safe when vampires attacked again. And after what I ‘d been through, I had to believe there’d be a next time.
I focused on wanting to do nothing more than attack. I thought about the fear I’d felt when the vampires had jumped me, the way that it felt when they had dragged me out of the home, and the way I’d been hurt when attacked there in the alley.
All of that struck me. Helplessness was all too familiar to me. That emotion rolled through me, rebelling against my desire to fight, but I’d fought before, hadn’t I?
I could almost feel Kate pushing somewhere inside my mind, almost as if she was aware of my reluctance.
I had fought on her behalf, too, but I’d also fought because I was in danger.
Though I’d known helplessness, I’d also found strength. I had gotten out of that situation. Though it had stayed with me, I knew I was stronger than that. I was better than that. It would not define me.
Something bubbled up from within me.
It was anger.
Mixed with that was a desire for revenge. It was the same desire I had felt all those years when I had been cowering in the dark, tears flowing too freely, praying for someone to come and help me—and my mother. No one ever had come. Eventually, when I’d gotten old enough, I had made a call.
That still didn’t feel like enough.
I was not going to be helpless.
And there Barden was, offering me a tool, a way to avoid being exactly that.
Why wouldn’t I use that?
Vampires wouldn’t take me and harm me, not as t
hey had already. I deserved better. Wasn’t that what I’d been told all of those years when I was young? You deserve better, Jenny. At the time, I had never believed it.
Did I believe it now?
That sense continued to bubble up within me, growing ever more powerful the longer I was aware of it. If I could reach for it, latch onto it, then I could use that. I felt so strongly that I could draw from the experience, and it could be the foundation of what I did.
I pushed that bubbling sense out of me.
It flowed up from a place deep within me, rolling through my chest, down my arms, out my hands, and through the wand.
Something exploded.
Barden grunted.
“That was unexpected,” he said from where he now lay on the floor.
I hurried over, but he waved me away, dusting himself off as he got to his feet.
“I’m so sorry, Barden.”
“No. It was my fault. I should have considered the possibility you would combine your magic with that which flows through the wand.”
“Wait. You’re saying I used my own magic?”
“That was not all mine. You used some of it, but not all of it. Do you remember what you did?”
I remembered the feelings I’d had, the familiar sense of helplessness. “I do.”
“Use that again.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m not sure I want to.”
A moment of silence ensued before Barden spoke. “I don’t know what trauma you experienced when you were younger, Dr. Stone. I do recognize trauma, though. Often it defines us and shapes the people we become. I know that from experience as well. As much as I know we can overcome that trauma, we can use it to make us stronger. I have seen you are a strong woman. Don’t let that define you.”
“It doesn’t define me.”
“And yet you keep it buried within you.”
“That’s where it belongs.”
“When you bury those past experiences, all that happens is they remain trapped, struggling to come free. Eventually, they will get out, and when they do, it’s generally at the wrong time. When you embrace that experience, as much as one can, you get to control when it comes out. Do not let others dictate how you feel any longer.”
I opened my eyes, meeting his. “What did you experience?”
“We all have horrors, Dr. Stone.” He took a deep breath, running his hands along his jacket. “Perhaps it will be best for you to practice where I don’t have to maintain a protection. Do you even have time to practice?”
“I don’t have to work today if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Good. Unfortunately, there are several matters I must attend to, but if you would be willing, I could check on you later this evening or perhaps tomorrow.”
“That would be fine, Barden.”
“Excellent.” His gaze lingered on the wand.
“Did I weaken you very much?”
He shook his head. “No, Dr. Stone. Which is why I think you used more of your own magic than you were aware of.” He headed to the door, pausing as he pulled it open. “Please let me know if anything strange happens.”
“Like another attack?”
“That would be strange, so I’d appreciate knowing.”
“At this point, I’m not so sure if that would seem strange.”
“Considering the efforts I’ve put into ensuring your safety, I would find it strange indeed.”
“What efforts?” I imagined Barden watching me, remembering how many of the Dark Council members he had called upon to rescue me from the vampires.
“The kind which hopefully will ensure you have no need to worry about another attack, and the kind which hopefully will not require you are saved by the paramilitary man.”
“You don’t care for him?”
“I don’t know him, Dr. Stone, but I worry about his presence in the city. I fear we have already gained the wrong kind of attention, and in doing so, there is a danger to more than just the two of us.”
He headed out of the condo, closing the door, and I stood watching the door for a moment before turning my attention to the wand. I should have felt guilty about having it, but I didn’t. Instead, I felt safe in a way I hadn’t for some time.
12
The wind whipped around me as I stood in the middle of the park. It was cold, and I did my best to ignore the biting wind, keeping my coat zipped up, a scarf wrapped around me, and a thick stocking cap over my head. The leather gloves I wore kept my hands out of the cold, but as I gripped the wand, I wondered if the gloves were separating me from the magic within it.
Were it not for the need to practice, I wouldn’t have been out there. Occasional flakes of snow drifted down from the flat gray sky, giving a hollowness to the day. It fitted my mood.
The more I practiced, the harder it became. That wasn’t the way practice was supposed to go. It was supposed to be that the more one practiced the easier things became, but in my case, delving into those memories, feeling a helpless sense over and over again was hard on me. I hated having to dig back to that time, hating how it forced me to remember that person.
Regardless of what Barden had said, I had moved past it. I had worked to get out of that situation, studying my ass off so I could get a scholarship, not worrying about whether someone else would pay for my education. And I’d done well enough in my undergraduate program to get into medical school. There were no scholarships available, but I’d gone to the in-state school, lowering the tuition fees. And, of course, everyone came out of medical school in debt, so I wasn’t unusual in that.
I was strong. Regardless of how I had buried those memories, I’d moved past them. Why did drawing upon my magic require I dug into them again?
I didn’t want to.
It was always the same memories anyway. Each time I tried to reach for that magic, I went back to the same night. I was no more than eight or nine years old, old enough to know what was happening was wrong, but far too young to do anything to stop it. My back and legs hurt from where the belt had struck me. My throat burned from the crying and the tears. And my hands squeezed the blankets, holding them over my head, trying to trap out the noise coming from the other room. I hadn’t been able to ignore that.
There were other horrible memories, but I tried to ignore those, too. Most of them I had pushed out of my mind long ago, determined not to give power to him. The more I thought of those memories, the more I was letting him control who I was.
Unless Barden was right.
I shook my head. No. Embracing those memories did nothing but bring the pain to the surface; I was a healer now, a professional, and needed to be in control of myself. That involved pushing away harmful thoughts, thoughts that would change the person I was, and I was determined to ignore them.
To summon magic, I would do that.
It was more than just to summon magic. It was to protect myself.
Why did protecting myself involved dredging up moments when I hadn’t been able to?
I dug deep, focusing on the awful memory of that night. It wasn’t the time I had been the most hurt, but it was the time I had hurt in a way different to others. There were all the things happening to my mother and my brother, and me feeling so helpless to do anything for either of them.
As before, with my memory came that strange surge of helplessness. I pulled on the sense, drawing it up through me, out of my arms and into the wand. At first, I had feared the gloves would restrict my ability to use that magic, but they hadn’t impeded me at all. It exploded, slamming into the water of the Mississippi River. That felt safest to me.
I did it again, drawing on the energy. It wasn’t any easier, but at least I understood what was required. There was nothing other than the destruction I pulled upon. It wasn’t like I’d managed to create any crazy spell like I’d heard from Kate were possible. She had told me one time about the mages restoring her hallway after a battle, and now every time I walked along the hall, I couldn’t help but think about
that, and couldn’t help but realize magic had restored it, making it so it looked as if nothing had ever happened there. Would I ever be able to do magic like that?
Each time another blast slammed into the water, I wondered how much of it came from the wand and how much from me. Barden looked convinced I was reaching for a part of me, and being able to use the wand suggested I had magic of some sort, but how much had I reached on my own and how much was him?
The only way to know was to test it.
I slipped the wand into my pocket. Could I do the same without using the wand?
I focused on the same memories, letting them draw up through me, the helplessness the key emotion, rolling through my chest, out of my arms and into my hands. It seemed frozen there, almost as if the cold had congealed around the power I was feeling, and I pushed.
It slithered out of my fingertips.
I wasn’t able to describe it any differently. Unlike when holding onto the wand, doing it this way was less of an explosion of power and more like squeezing toothpaste from a tube. It didn’t come out in a burst, but it did come.
The water bubbled softly, not the same explosive slap I was able to accomplish with the wand, but it was still magic.
My heart skipped a beat.
I had done magic. On my own!
I stared at my hands. At first, I wondered if the gloves had been damaged pushing that power out of them, but they hadn’t.
“I wish you were here, Kate,” I whispered. She was the one person I wanted to share this with, letting her know what I’d managed. There weren’t many people I could share this with.
That was the curse of magic, and one I understood better now I had become more deeply enmeshed within the magical world. I remembered how hurt I’d been on discovering Kate had another side to her that she hadn’t shared, but now I shared in it too, I had a better understanding. How could I possibly reveal this to anyone else? Doing so placed me into the potential for danger, but it also put the person at risk. And it was possible they would feel an urgency to be somewhere else—anywhere else. From what Barden had said, the way magic compelled non-magical people might have sent them scurrying away.
Frost Bite Page 12
