“Why don’t they teach us this in class?”
“Because elemental magic is different. It’s a physical thing. It’s something you can see, smell, and touch. Something like telekinesis or charm doesn’t have a physical form. It’s easier to control. Even the other elements like earth and air are easier to control than water and fire. Our magic is chaotic and wild, and it takes extra work to master it. No,” he said again, waving at me to continue with my searching. “Get to work.”
And so, I sat down and closed my eyes. I couldn’t see anything, at first. I was just a weird kid sat in the middle of a field with closed eyes. But I could hear and smell everything around me. The damp air, the chirping birds, the rustle of leaves as wind flew through them. I could sense everything around me, but nothing inside of me. I couldn’t find the flame. It was hiding from me, knowing what my intentions were.
I sighed with frustration.
“Start from the top of your head and work your way down. Look behind every corner. It could be anywhere. Follow the smell of your magic, the heat. Once you have the scent, you can track it back to the source,” Mr. Henry advised, as if he was reading my mind.
I bit back a reply. Instead, I took his advice. If Wendy was right—which she usually was—I couldn’t spend the rest of my life avoiding people like Margot. I had to stand up for myself, and to do that, I had to get some control over my magic. Even the smallest amount of control could go a long way. Especially since I had none to begin with.
Starting at the very top of my head, I worked my way down. I imagined my body as a maze, with the core of my magic hidden in the middle. How I was going to get to it, I didn’t know yet, but there had to be a way.
I started walking, taking turns that I thought felt right. Sometimes, I had to backtrack and take another path instead. I had a feeling where to go, and the only thing I could do was follow my gut. I had nothing else to go on, anyway.
As I got lower, to my throat to be exact, I caught a scent of smoke. It was very faint, but it was there, nonetheless. I took a deep breath and followed it, taking a few turns that I didn’t even notice before I took it. The smoke grew hotter and thicker until I could hardly breathe. I gasped when I realized where I was.
“You found it,” Mr. Henry said, now a lot closer than he was before. He sat next to me. His voice was wraithlike in my head, coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“What is it?” he asked. I could hear the excitement in his voice, the genuine interest. I wished I shared that enthusiasm, but I couldn’t bring myself to be excited about anything involving my magic. I couldn’t be excited about anything that could take my life at any given moment. It was impossible.
I looked at the black rock around me, then up at the perfect, open circle. I could see the sky above, and I didn’t dare look down just yet. “I think I’m in a volcano.” That would explain the heat. It would explain the boiling sounds, like a hot tub that was just a little too warm for comfort.
“A volcano?” Mr. Henry asked. “Interesting. Explain it to me.”
“There are rocks all around me. I think... I think I am in a cave inside of the volcano. I can see the hole at the top.”
“And below?”
I gulped and looked down. It took me a moment to form the words to explain what I saw. I’d never seen anything like it. It was beautiful. It was deadly and hot and beautiful. I could feel my physical body starting to sweat. “It doesn’t look like lava.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“It looks like fire, but it also looks like liquid. It’s as if lava turned to raw fire and kept a liquid form.”
“Can you reach into it?”
“Reach into it?” I panicked. “Why would I want to reach into it?”
Mr. Henry’s voice was cool in the hot, suffocating air. “This is your body, your magic, Lia. That fire is as much a part of you as your foot or eyes or ears. It is as much a part of you as any other part of your body. Are you afraid to touch any other part of your body?”
“No,” I admitted. What a strange question. My body wasn’t boiling, my body wasn’t liquid fire that wanted to devour the flesh off my bones. The fire looked hot enough to melt bone, as well. It could probably turn my bones to liquid and add it to the sea of fire.
“Then don’t be afraid of touching that part, either. Now, reach down and scoop up as much of that fire as you can carry in your hands.”
Tentatively, I reached down into the river of fire. I didn’t know what I had expected once my hand was fully submerged, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t a comforting warmth that flooded my body. There was no overwhelming heat, no fire that threatened to burst from every pore on my body. No, this was peaceful, this was solace, like a warm meal on a cold, snowy winter’s day. I had never felt anything like it.
The liquid fire had the texture of silk. It didn’t feel like dripping my hand in water or milk, but in melted caramel, instead. It was thick and smelled just as sweet—the sweet scent of magic. This far in, this close to the source, the magic smelled like candy and I was ready to devour it. I was ready to eat it all. Was I hungry for the power it gave me? Was I hungry for the control? I didn’t know, and I knew better than to find out what would happen if I did indulge. I had to remind myself that my magic was too dangerous. Small steps—I had to take small steps.
I reached down with the other hand, too, cupping them together before lifting my hands from the river of flames. It dripped from my hands, dropping on the floor as if it was water. I was awestruck. I had never seen anything so glorious.
“You remember that ballerina you were playing with yesterday?”
I was vaguely aware of my nodding head. “I want you to create her again, but this time, uses the fire from your core. I want you to use it like clay. Make her a little bigger. Add as much detail as you possibly can. Make her as real as you are.”
I didn’t think twice about what he told me. I didn’t have to wonder how I was going to do it. It came naturally, and my hands moved without my conscious thought. Slowly, the body formed, then the head, then the dress. I added the hair, reaching down to get more of the liquid fire when I ran out. I formed her face and gave her little pointed ears. I imagined what my magic would have looked like if it was a person and created every feature accordingly. Sharp, crisp lines, strong features, a permanent scowl. My magic was tough and powerful, and so the ballerina adopted those characteristics. When I was done with her, her little body continued to take shape. She formed little nails and eyebrows of flame. She grew teeth and ballet shoes. Her dress sparkled as if encrusted with a million little diamonds. She was the physical form of my magic, and it was more breathtaking than the river of fire.
“Open your eyes.”
I did and was surprised to find that the sun had already set around us. It was pitch black out, no star or light in sight. No light, except the ball of flame in my lap. I gasped when it stretched out like a cat that had just awoken from a nap. The ballerina extended her arms above her head, pointing her toes and rolling her ankles. Her little mouth opened in a yawn.
She was the size of the tip of my middle finger to my elbow. Her dress was nearly as half as wide as she was tall, and her little eyes took up half of her face. Her hair hung in curls around her head—curls that looked exactly like mine.
“What the hell?”
Mr. Henry chuckled, and I turned to him, the little ballerina illuminating him in the dead of night.
“Lia, meet your familiar.”
“Familiar?” I looked at the ballerina, who was curling back into her little ball, clearly not having gotten enough sleep. “I don’t understand. Familiars are a myth.”
“Or so everyone thought,” said Mr. Henry before taking a seat across from me, studying the little ballerina.
“Long ago, before there was even talk of cars or cellphones, witches and warlocks were the most powerful beings that roamed the galaxy. There was nothing that could stop th
em and, as such, there was nothing they feared. The elementals could create creatures of their elements that fought for them in battles. It was said that they took the raw magic in their very core and sculpted these creatures. When the creatures died, that piece of their magic returned to them and they could create more creatures. These creatures were known as familiars. But this ability to create a magical army was too powerful, and the gods stripped it away, afraid of what would become of the Earth if the elementals were able to create more of them. And so, without the familiars to protect the witches and warlocks, the elementals were killed and, soon enough, went extinct.
“The gods were afraid of the elementals rising to power once more, so they only allowed a few witches and warlocks to wield the magic, just enough to keep the balance on Earth.” Mr. Henry didn’t take his eyes off the ballerina. “I have studied familiars for years and years. I have never been able to create one of my own but you, Lia, you got it right the very first time. You were able to create a familiar in half the time it took the ancients to do. It is said that it took them an entire day to create one, to form it to perfection. Those familiars didn’t have minds of their own, they were blind soldiers. But something tells me that this here familiar has much more personality than the whole school combined. This will allow you to get to know your magic, to understand it. Once you get to know the ballerina, you will get to know your flames.”
“How did you know I would be able to do this?” It seemed like a load of mumbo-jumbo to me. Why me? Me, of all people? The person who couldn’t light a candle without setting a building on fire. The person who couldn’t even stand up for herself. How was I the one who’d been given this ancient magic? There had to be another explanation and if I didn’t get it from Mr. Henry, then I would get it somewhere else. My stomach turned and bile rose in my mouth. This was too much for me to process.
“I knew when I saw the ballerina yesterday,” he said, grinning as if he had just discovered gold. “No one can do that, Lia. Magic doesn’t have shapes; it can’t take on forms. It is what it is and sometimes, very skilled witches or warlocks can manipulate it, but not always. Usually, it’s just raw magic. We always knew you had magic that was rooted much deeper, much hotter than anything we have ever seen. I figured it was worth taking a shot.”
“But...” I tried to think of an explanation, of an excuse, of a reason why this worked and why it was a bad idea. I couldn’t come up with a single one.
The ballerina opened one eye and glared at Mr. Henry, who only smiled back at her. She huffed, smoke escaping her mouth. It was only then that I realized that she wasn’t hot. No, that wasn’t right. She was hot, but she didn’t burn anything. Her body was one big flame, but it didn’t ignite anything around her. She didn’t burn Mr. Henry when he reached out to touch her.
Instead, she giggled when he touched her side, swatting his hand away before floating upward to sit on my shoulder. She stretched again, her eyes darting between Mr. Henry and me.
“Are you two going to gawk at me all night or are we going to get some dinner?”
Mr. Henry and I looked at each other, our eyes wide. I had grown up on stories of familiars. The headmistress told me about them every night before bed. Mr. Henry studied them for years. Not once had we heard of a talking familiar, never mind one with her own mind and personality. Mr. Henry had said he thought she might have one, but it was a different thing to see it with his own eyes.
“You can talk?” he asked, a goofy grin on his face.
“Do you see anyone else around? Of course, I can talk.” Her voice was high, like what I would expect a pixie to sound like.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” he admitted, his eyes fixed on hers.
The ballerina turned her attention to me and smiled. “We are full of surprises, aren’t we?”
“We?” I asked, unable to form any other word.
“We are part of the same body, the same system, if you will. I am you, and you are me. We are one and the same.”
“Do you have a name?” Mr. Henry asked.
The ballerina shrugged and looked at me again. “I don’t know, do I?”
“Not that I know of,” I said, shrugging as well. Her little body moved with the movement of my shoulders.
“May I suggest not naming her just yet? Get to know the magic first. It’s not a baby that grows into its name. This is different. Every magic has a name of its own, if legends can be trusted. You might want to delve a little deeper into your magic to uncover the original name before creating a new one.”
“Why?” I asked and Mr. Henry got to his feet. I followed suit, the ballerina holding on to my wild hair.
“The magic wants to work with you, not for you. Learning its name instead of giving it one will show it that you accept and respect the magic.”
“This sounds very complicated,” I huffed, looking at the ballerina from the corner of my eye.
“Creating a familiar is the most complicated thing of all, and you’ve mastered that already,” Mr. Henry chuckled before turning on his heels and walking into the forest. “Come on, then,” he called out when he noticed I wasn’t with him. “I need some light, and that ballerina could be a useful torch.”
She stuck her tongue out at Mr. Henry’s back.
This was going to be one hell of a ride.
Chapter 9: Midnight Meal
I skipped dinner that evening and, despite my greatest efforts, I was ravenous when the 8th bell rang. I had an assortment of snacks in my room, but it wasn’t the same as eating an actual meal—it wasn’t a steaming plate of food. My stomach still rumbled when the clock read midnight, and so I made my way down the stairs of my tower as quietly as possible.
It wasn’t the first time I’d snuck out of my room for something to eat. It was much easier being alone and far away from the other students. Although, usually, I didn’t have a ballerina fireball on my shoulder. The light she emitted was useful; it was so bright it illuminated the hallways better than the sun did during the day. But I was a walking torch now, and if anyone came around a corner, I couldn’t hide in the shadows like I usually did. No, I had to be extra careful, now. I couldn’t risk missing the softest of footsteps. The caretakers roamed the halls at night to make sure everyone was in bed. They stayed mostly in the main dorm, while I was in the west wing with a few teachers. Still, any one of them could leave their room at any moment for whatever reason, and that would mean I was caught. I was as silent as a wraith; I couldn’t make a sound.
The familiar and I hadn’t spoken to each other since we’d left the clearing in the forest with Mr. Henry. I supposed she was waiting for me to say something, but I was at a loss for words. I didn’t know what to make of the situation. It was as if someone had taken my body against my will and dropped it in another life. This familiar was going to make me stick out like a sore thumb. Most of the kids at school wouldn’t even know what she was, but why would I walk around with a flaming ballerina on my shoulder? I’d asked Mr. Henry if I could leave her in my room during the day, but he had shaken his head, saying that I needed to keep the bond as close as possible until it became strong enough. Leaving a familiar to its own devices so soon would cause it to lose control and, ultimately, tear down everything in its path to get to its master.
I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want it. I didn’t want the familiar, I didn’t want the attention that went with it and I sure as hell didn’t want the power. I was tired of being “special.” It wasn’t everything it was made out to be. It definitely wasn’t what I wanted in life. Any chance of normality had disappeared out the window when he’d made me summon the familiar.
Still, I’d never really had a chance at a normal life even before the familiar. I was already an outcast, the girl with power much bigger than anything else in the academy. The familiar wasn’t going to change that. But I wanted to hate it, to resent it. It was easier than accepting I had no chance before her. I liked to think that being normal was still in the cards for me
. And I wanted to blame something. It just so happened that the familiar was there at exactly the right moment.
I ducked into the kitchen. I was thankful for the light of the familiar, even though I refused to admit it. I usually bumped my hip on every counter in the place, but with her glow to light my way, I managed to walk around all of it. The kitchen was nothing special, with generic countertops and large sinks. The fridges, that was where I wanted to be. I knelt by the door to the pantry, fishing two bobby pins from my hair before inserting them into the lock. One would think an academy of sorcerers would have learned that putting spells on doors would be beneficial. I was glad that they hadn’t figured it out yet, though. Not having spells to get through made getting into the pantry a lot easier. I twisted the pins and when I felt the lock turn, I grinned like the Cheshire cat. My mouth watered. It was going to be a midnight meal, never mind a midnight snack.
“You know,” a smooth voice said from behind me. I got to my feet and turned around, my head a little dizzy, as he continued, “sneaking around is much easier without the blinding light.”
I glowered at Damien, hoping and praying that he didn’t ask what the blinding light was. I had no such luck.
“What is that thing?” He stepped a little closer, the light accentuating his boyish features. I sighed.
“I—” I paused, scowling at myself. If I wasn’t always so damn hungry, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I should have just stayed in my room until I figured everything out. “She’s my familiar.”
“Familiar?” Damien repeated, a look of shock combined with confusion on his face. I sighed again.
Enchanter Witch Academy Page 5
