Salt

by Danielle Ellison

Chapter Eighteen

  Things are a little clearer in the morning. I’m still really upset with Carter, but I’m (hopefully) not going to cause him bodily harm today. This is the road to acceptance. Yay, me!

  Acceptance isn’t forgiveness. I have to depend on him because he’s my partner, but that doesn’t mean we have to have a relationship. Feelings complicated everything. Keep to the basics: being Paired with Carter is the key to my quest. I’ll have magic, a known tracker, and resources to find my demon. Finding my own magic is the only way I can save myself. And I’m going to do it.

  “You haven’t said much this morning,” Ric says, turning down the volume in my car. That’s a rarity, because no one loves Skeller Bones as much as Ric. I don’t look at him. Eyes on the road and all that.

  “Who’s your partner? You didn’t answer any of my texts.”

  Ric didn’t get to see because he was Paired first. All the other pairs were whisked off to practice, and I avoided all his texts last night, despite our usual routine.

  I remain quiet, try to play my options, but he’s staring at me and even though I’m looking forward, his expression is clear in my head. That and the irritating hmm he keeps repeating. “It was a long night,” I say.

  “Long enough that you couldn’t text me back?” he asks. “Who is it?”

  “Ric—”

  “No. I’m Paired with that girl Che Lin—er, Maple, okay? Do you know why she wants to be an Enforcer, Penelope?” I shake my head. He laughs this little sarcastic tone and I know he’s going to tell me. It’s great, because now I won’t have to talk about me.

  “She made it very clear that she’s willing to put in all the work for the test. She’s surprisingly good, actually. But she has a two-year plan.”

  “To do what?”

  “To pass the test and be Bonded to her partner.”

  I laugh. “She’s barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Girl is in the wrong forest.” Ric sighs as we pull into the parking lot. “Which is what I told her. Should be interesting.”

  I unbuckle my seat belt. Ric grabs my hand midair. “You should just tell me now because I’m going to find out in three minutes anyway.”

  I look at him. “William Prescott.”

  His jaw drops and he hits the dash.

  “What?” I ask.

  Ric looks at me the same way the other girls did when I first heard his name and didn’t know who he was.

  “You scored the most desirable person in all of Enforcer training. Male or female.”

  “It’s not—”

  “William’s so good. Have you seen him in action yet?”

  “We sparred.” I slam the car door so I don’t have to hear about this anymore and walk ahead of Ric.

  Ric skips up the sidewalk to catch up with me. “Boy is quicker than lightning. And he’s smart, powerful, rich,” he slaps my shoulder. “Damn you.”

  “What?”

  A girl glares at me as she passes by us. I don’t know her, but it doesn’t matter. Apparently everyone hates me for winning the gold prize in partners. Ric keeps talking about how good Carter is at technique, attack, defense, method. The door is close. Please let me make it there before I kill my best friend.

  “All you have to do is show up and you’ll pass the test. William Prescott’s a shoo-in.”

  “Carter,” I yell, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. So much for making it to the door.

  Ric looks at me, his nose crinkled up. “What?”

  “Carter,” I repeat, my voice softer.

  “The hot boy you want to kiss?”

  “Did kiss,” I whisper.

  “You kissed him? Mr. Perfect?” Ric’s voice is a whole octave higher. He crosses his arms and looks at me.

  I run a hand through my hair and avoid his gaze for a second. I should just say it. “The perfect boy you’re talking about? They’re the same person. I found out yesterday when he walked down the aisle to the name William. William Carter Prescott.”

  Ric makes a small O with his mouth. I walk ahead and open the door. He catches up with me at the elevator. “I can see why you didn’t text me back now.”

  “I don’t know what to say to him,” I admit as the elevator dings shut. I push 14E and we’re both quiet as it moves.

  We’re almost to our floor when Ric says, “You don’t have to say anything. You just have to train.”

  The doors open and Maple is waiting for Ric. I hope she doesn’t mess this up for him simply because he couldn’t be with her. She’s a really good fighter, but if she wants to marry an Enforcer—and rules say you can’t marry someone from a different Pair—then she could decide it’s not worth it. If that happened, the Triad could decide Ric couldn’t be an Enforcer at all.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” he whispers as he slowly joins Maple and their mentor.

  Ellore is in the back of the room talking to Carter. She glances at me, raising her eyebrows and smiling, while still speaking with Carter. He doesn’t turn around, which is good because I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet. Ric’s right. I don’t have to talk about anything with him except a plan and some training. It should be easy enough.

  “Glad you decided to work it out,” Ellore says when I approach. Carter turns around, but I don’t look at him. He doesn’t say hello.

  “We both want this, don’t we, William?”

  His jaw clenches and he looks away.

  Two points to Gryffindor.

  Mrs. Bentham claps her hands, and everyone lines up in the middle of the room. The class starts with all the Pairs learning how to move as one, because even though we are Paired to one person, we are still one whole team. We need to move as a unit, using signals and not words. Learn how to control our breathing so no one can hear us coming, even after we’ve run a few miles and climbed a building. Which we also do in practice.

  Not talking to Carter is super easy, since there are always people around. Really, it couldn’t have been more perfect. I am sandwiched between him and Ric the whole morning. Each time he would talk to me, Ric would interrupt or I would say something to Ric and that was that. Best two hours ever. I won’t have this buffer again; today’s the only day we’re all together. After this, it’s every Pair for themselves until the test.

  When we’re dismissed, I stalk out ahead of Carter, grabbing a towel off the table as I go. He calls after me, but I keep walking. Ellore told us where to meet her after our group training; I don’t need him to guide me anywhere.

  “Penelope,” he says, catching up. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

  “I need time,” I say.

  “The test is in two weeks. Time isn’t really a luxury. We have to communicate and work together.”

  His eyes are so damn captivating. How does he have the kind of power over me that makes me want to let it all go and skip off into the sunset with him? But he’s right. We do have to work together. And we will.

  “We can strategize and practice. We can talk about everything except you and me and this,” I say, motioning my hand between our bodies. Carter starts to say something, but I shake my head. “I have a lot going on right now.”

  He stares at me for a second with a kicked puppy expression on his face.

  Then, his face gets harder, angrier. I wish I knew if it was with me or with himself.

  “Fine,” he says, and he walks away.

  “Fine” is not the same as “good.”

  Crap.

  I land hard on the floor, the shock of my fall resonating through every part of my body. Carter stands above me, a hand held out to help me up and his eyebrows furrowed. It’s so frustrating. Just because my magic apparently sucks doesn’t mean I deserve those kinds of disappointed, angry looks. Not from him.

  “Again,” Ellore says. “Penelope, you have to weave the elements to your will in order to use them. You did an excellent job at your examinations. Focus.”

  I nod. I keep trying to will the magic from the elements, but it doesn’t work.


  “Can I have a minute?” I ask her. She holds up a finger and I’m sure she’s already counting down from sixty.

  I turn my back on the room and close my eyes. I can feel the magic. It’s the same as always when Carter is nearby, loud and anxious. I only need to grab on to it, to bend it. I keep doing that, but it doesn’t work. Ellore’s way doesn’t work.

  “You can do this,” Carter says. His breath is on my neck and I shiver before I turn to face him.

  “I can’t.”

  “I’ve seen you,” he whispers.

  I eye Ellore. She’s tapping her foot. “I can’t do it the way she’s telling me. It doesn’t work,” I snap.

  “Do it however it does work. What happened before?”

  “I have to picture what I want.”

  Carter runs a hand down his face. “Really?”

  I shrug. I don’t know the answer either. I wish I did. Yet another item for the “things that would be useful to know” column. Carter shakes a finger in the air.

  “Pictures elicit emotions, right? Maybe you should try to feel it more. See it, but feel it too,” he finishes just as Ellore yells for me to get back into place. His eyes are on mine as I maneuver to my spot. I think he’s right. The other times it worked—with the demon, at the test, with Carter—I saw the outcome, but I also felt this intense pressure. I should try feeling first, then seeing, since that’s what’s always worked before.

  An empty bottle hurls toward my head. I’m not ready and miss it. We don’t need an object to focus on, but Ellore thought maybe if I saw it coming I could block it better. Yeah, right. So far that’s been a no go.

  I spend a few seconds envisioning the attack—more of those bottles coming toward my face, and me stopping them. Me, hurling them back, the determination to survive. Then I’m ready and Carter sends them lightning-fast toward me, one after the other.

  I stop each one of them.

  It’s exhausting. My brain hurts. My body hurts. I’m pretty sure my hands are shaking. I don’t get to rest. Things come at me two at time. Three at a time. Four.

  I stop all of them and hurl them back, just like I’d envisioned. They rush past Carter and crash into the wall before hitting the ground with a tinkling echo.

  I smile. Ellore smiles. Carter smiles.

  It’s all smiling.

  Glad someone’s happy.

  At some point we switch roles; I’m clearly much better at attacking than defending. After only a few charges, Carter falls. I smile. Glad I’m happy.

  “You guys need to practice together,” Ellore says as I’m packing my bag. “If you even want a chance at making it past this moment, you need it. Penelope, I’m surprised at your magic in combat. You were so good in the exams, best in the whole class.”

  To this, Carter raises an eyebrow at me.

  “It’s been a long day.”

  As soon as I say the words I know it’s the wrong answer. Ellore doesn’t like excuses.

  “Practice. Before this. After this. I don’t care. I expect progress,” she says, leaving me and Carter to stare at each other.

  It’s awkward. To say the least.

  “Do you want to work on things tomorrow? Before class?” Carter asks.

  “You mean get up earlier that I am already?”

  Carter crosses his arms. “You heard her.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say. “Fine.”

  We’re both quiet for a moment before he says my name. So low it’s a whisper. “What can I do?”

  I close my eyes. I can’t do it. I can’t do this right now, so I walk away. I’m a chicken, I guess, but I really need my own answers before I pass on his.

  A new cat is sitting at the desk in the library. This one is gray and white and doesn’t have a hatred for me the same way Hyde does. It even lets me pet it. “Where’s Poncho?” I ask the cat. With a meow it’s gone.

  I make my way back to the archive computers and enter my password. When the search bar comes up this time I type Emmaline Spencer and wait. My heart races while it gathers info. I hope that it will be different this time, and just one result will pop up. One thing that will lead me to her.

  No Results Found.

  This sucks. I pull a copy of the article from my wallet and try searching some of the names.

  Typing Leo Spencer brings up a few hits. Leo was my great-great-great-something-grandfather. There isn’t much information about him specifically, but his son was a famous writer in nonfiction works about the evolution of magic, and there was a brief mention of his marriage and his daughters. That’s all though. The records may be too old. I need to search the physical archives, the rows of Umbras that outline family history and magic, the paper records. That could take years.

  I pull up Azsis again, and start where I left off before. Three more hits and they are all the same crap. Lucifer, hell, dangerous, orange eyes. This is not going to give me any sort of answers about who my demon is, which is just another fail for this day. Back to ground zero. I exit the search bar and start to log out.

  The computer flashes a warning.

  Are you sure you want to quit?

  I stare at the words. No, no, let’s try this one thing.

  I type Vassago.

  And there it is. Demon File #3047669: Vassago

  Known power: Seeker of lost things; Mind-bending

  Last seen: 05/19/1962

  Which means they stopped looking for it or lost track of it long before I saw it two days ago.

  This is from decades ago. That’s the same year as the newspaper article about the demonic attack increases. The same year as Alfie Spencer.

  Ability: Presumed to be able to find what is lost, Though the Triad believes this ability to be a hoax. Agents that have encountered the demon say he gave them a riddle. as of this date of entry, the riddle appears meaningless.

  As for the ability of mind-bending, in which the demon can entrance a subject to do his will, upon investigation this appears to be a very temporary state and potential VictimS are not swayed longer than one minute. No one has been harmed by this ability.

  Threat level: 3

  Ten is highest. If he’s only a three then they don’t believe it can really hurt anyone. I think they’re wrong.

  One hides the truth from me.

  I rack my brain. Maybe it was Carter. Vassago probably knew that Carter was really William. That would make sense. It was a warning about Carter and I’m overthinking it.

  I’m about to close the file when I see something at the top. DNE. That’s a Do Not Expel order. That means Enforcers aren’t supposed to kill it. But why? It’s a demon. We were told all demons are to be eliminated, despite their ranking, unless they’re involved in an ongoing investigation. But a level three wouldn’t be a DNE, not unless someone wanted it for something else. And especially not one that’s been unsighted for fifty years.

  DNEs can’t be harmed by Enforcers or other witches. They have magical protection barriers that can only be broken by someone in the Triad, and are kept in line with GPS trackers like they put in dogs. They can’t be expelled by anyone else, but they can fight. I’ve heard about it only in the handbook, because it’s rare. DNEs are basically a get out of jail free card. Why would someone give Vassago a free pass?

  I do another search on Vassago and 1962, which is crowded with deaths, then 1842, the year that article mentioning Emmaline’s disappearance was printed. I find a hit from the WNN records that mentions a missing persons report, but they don’t use Emmaline’s name. It may not be her, but that feels too coincidental. I don’t believe in those. Not anymore.

  There’s a connection between my demon and the Spencer family and Vassago. I just have to find that missing piece. When I find it, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll be close to getting back my magic.

  There’s a noise behind me so I log out of the computer and head back to the main desk of the library. That gray-and-white cat is sitting on the desk, and I can see Poncho’s head where he’s bent ov
er.

  “What’s this one’s name?” I ask, tossing my bag over my shoulder.

  Poncho pops up and follows my gaze to the cat. “S-e-a-k.”

  “Hyde and Seak?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

  He nods. “It felt fitting.” I linger at the desk. Maybe he can help me. Or he could rat me out. “Anything else?”

  I clear my throat. “Actually, I’m looking for some information on someone in my family. There was nothing in the search.”

  Poncho raises an eyebrow. “Name?”

  “Emmaline Spencer.”

  He types something in the computer and then shakes his head. “I can do some searching for you in the archives, see if I find anything. But everything’s stored in the electronic archives now, so if it’s not there then… Well, I can look,” he says.

  “That would be excellent,” I say.

  He picks up the cat and walks back to his desk, jotting down something.

  “Thanks, Poncho.”

  When I get to the driveway, I see Gran working in the garden. Her back is toward me. She has on her white wicker hat, which means some serious gardening. The question of Emmaline Spencer bubbles up in my throat. Gran’s in one of her happy places, so it’s the perfect time to ask.

  “Gran, can I ask you a question?” I start. She hmms at me, pulling up weeds between the plants. I clear my throat. Now or never. Spit it out, Penelope.

  “Who was Emmaline Spencer?”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, Gran’s back straightens. Her hands keep moving, but I can see the tension. She’s so quiet the only noise passing between us is the sound of life around us. The cars, the birds, some kids on their bicycles, water sprinklers kicking on and off.

  “Can you hand me the knife over there?” she asks, pointing to the pile.

  “Are you going to stab me?” I ask.

  Gran laughs.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Penelope, please,” she says. I roll my eyes since she can’t see me do it. I grab a small knife from her gardening kit. Gran holds out her hand, and I place the knife in it.

  “Did you know that you never cut flowers with scissors? You have to use a knife, because the scissors will pinch the stem and water won’t be able to get into the flower.”