The pressure lifts in my brain and the room to swim back into view. This time, when Jessica leans in too close, Dr. Fashu is too distracted to brush her away. He glances up at me just as, on the other side of the room, the moth finally flutters too close to the flame.
And just like that, I am free to move my arms. I snatch the device plunged into my Time brand with my right arm and yank it out so fast, this time, there is blood. I throw it against the wall, where it smashes against one of the bamboo shelves. I promptly double over and vomit all over Dr. Fashu and Jessica in front of me.
I don’t know how I don’t pass out immediately.
Dr. Fashu swears and Jessica gags, as both of them happened to be in the path of the contents of my stomach. While she stumbles into the back room to clean up, Dr. Fashu slams the ruined tablet down on the table and starts yanking the electrodes off my head.
“You really have no idea how hard that was to come by. Not even one complete trial and you’ve gone and broken it. You know,” he snarls, “I never understood why the tribunal decided to allow your type to study in the first place. Biggest mistake they ever made.”
For the first time today, Flynn reacts. He spins to face Fashu, his lips a tightly drawn line of displeasure.
“You are a man of science, Dr. Fashu. Your opinion has no place in this practice. If you can’t stand to keep your prejudices to yourself even for the duration of this short study, then perhaps you are not the correct person to be evaluating Octavia or myself.”
I finally find my voice. “Are you effing kidding me?” The effort it takes just to say those words makes my arms start to shake. “One trial? I’d hate to see what two would do.”
I glare at him, and then glance at Flynn. “No neither of you seriously realize what just happened?”
Both Dr. Fashu and Flynn look at me, confused.
I put my hands up to my head and close my eyes. I feel like I was stuck on an endless carousel turning over, round and round in an endless circle.
Dr. Fashu’s eyes fall down to the tablet screen. He suddenly follows Jessica from the room with a new sense of urgency.
As soon as he’s gone, I slump forward. Flynn catches me before I fall off the table completely.
“Woah, what’s wrong?” The moment he touches me, he stiffens. “You’re freezing,” he says. His hands run up and down the length of my arms, pressing the heat of his palms against my clammy skin.
“You really have no idea?”
Dr. Fashu bursts back in. Unlike Jessica, who is still nowhere in sight, he did not bother to change. Instead he comes back with a printout. Seems he was smart enough to back up his tablet to the cloud, because I know for a fact that whatever just happened now, it’s shown up.
He waves the paper excitedly, and slaps it down on the table in front of us. I don’t know what all the numbers mean, but I do understand the graphs. At the very top is what must be Flynn’s. It looks something like a gradually increasing slope that suddenly tapers off when Dr. Fashu finally removed the device.
The one below looks like there was a printing error. All the way to the left of the graph, where it shows the device registering for the first few seconds, there is nothing, and then just a single, solid, vertical line shooting straight off the top of the chart.
“I’ve never seen levels like this,” Dr. Fashu says. “All in that one fraction of a second.”
“What does it mean?” I ask.
He shakes his head several times, unable to take his eyes from the chart.
Flynn’s grip tightens on me. He moves one of his hands to help support my lower back. His voice comes out strained.
“So,” he says, “Are you satisfied that Octavia and I have this so-called resistance?”
Dr. Fashu glances up at me briefly. He doesn’t look impressed, surprised, or even pleased with the results.
“I don’t know,” he says. He glances briefly at Flynn and makes a dismissive gesture. “You yes, you’re not very likely to die from overexerting yourself during magic practice. But you,” again he turns to me. “I’ve no idea how you are still alive. By all accounts, you shouldn’t be.”
14
Octavia
I manage to hold it together until we are in the hall. The moment that door slams shut behind us, I collapse in a heap up against the wall. I cover my face in my hands and try to concentrate on breathing.
Flynn is upon me in a flash. His hands grip my shoulders so tight, it almost hurts.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
His voice pulls me out of the darkness I have created for myself. I peer out at him through shaking lashes. His face is close to mine, and as soon as he sees me looking back he presses his full lips to my forehead and whispers those same words over and over.
After a few long moments, I feel my heartbeat start returning to normal. My throat still stings and my stomach is upset, but those too are fading.
Flynn can sense this, because he loosens his grip a bit and holds me at arm’s length so I can see him better. “It was never like that before,” he says. “I never would have…I couldn’t…”
I shake my head, and he quiets.
“It isn’t your fault,” I say. “As much as I hate to say it, it isn’t even his.”
It would be nice to blame all this pain, the fear, the whole…whatever it was that just happened…on the man I’ve quickly grown to despise. I reach out and turn Flynn’s arm over in my hand. I run one finger along the lines of the brand that he was tested for as well.
“Did it hurt?”
“Nothing more than a pinch.”
I nod. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it,” I say. “I bore it too. None of us knew what would happen if he attached it to the Time brand.”
Flynn’s voice comes out rough. “Which is why he shouldn’t have in the first place.”
Now that my head has begun to clear, I am not as mad at Dr. Fashu as I should be.
This whole experience just reinforces my belief that I am not ready to try and perform Time Magic again any time soon. I know that whatever that device was that Dr. Fashu used was something meant to push the top envelope of my affinity, but after that, I don’t even want to brush the bottom. Not until I know how to control it better.
Flynn helps me to my feet, and after a moment regaining my balance from the sudden motion, we start down the hall towards where we are supposed to be meeting the others. I make him stop at the water fountain and I gargle enough water to sustain a horse.
Before we turn the corner that I think is going to lead us straight over to the divination room Flynn pulls me to the side.
“What exactly did happen back there?”
I can’t look him directly in the eyes. Instead, my gaze keeps falling on the patterned walls. The way the light is playing on it reminds me of the way that moth kept fluttering, fluttering, fluttering so close to the fire.
“I don’t know,” I say, and though I know it’s probably one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told, I’m not ready to share this with him. Or anyone else. Because if this is what Time Magic is going to do to me, then maybe I don’t want to practice it at all. “About what I said before—” I start.
Flynn stops me with a soft kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Your secret is safe with me.”
We turn the corner and I immediately see Kendall in the doorway to the abandoned divination chamber. I take it as a small victory that I was actually right about where I am. I may actually be finally learning how this place is laid out. He’s saying something to someone inside, but as soon as he spots me he stops and a broad smile spreads across his face.
Kendall bends over and plants a gentle kiss on my cheek at the door, one moment before I’m swept up off my feet and thrown over Draven’s’ shoulder. I holler loud enough that even Cedric, who I think I spot standing over by the window in the midst of my whirling vision, has to shush me.
“This room only stays secret as long as no one else finds out about it
,” he says once I am finally thrown down into one of the armchairs.
“Can you guys at least try not to be so disgusting when I’m around?”
I clamber around in my seat until I spot another person standing by the window.
“Wednesday!” I say. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d miss out on an opportunity to work on my magic too? Not likely.” She folds her arms in front of her, almost as if she expects me to protest.
“That’s great!” I say. Honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I’ve been trying so hard to figure out how to balance my time between my studies, the boys, and Wednesday—I don’t know why I didn’t think of it in the first place.
Besides, I think as I swivel back into my seat and take a still-hot cheesesteak from Draven, with Wednesday here I might be able to keep awkward conversation about what really happens in Dr. Fashu’s office to a minimum. My stomach rumbles, a surprise to even me. It seems a little jaunt through some kind of time-loop that makes me vomit isn’t enough to quell my insatiable appetite.
“So,” she says as she comes to sit across from me on the couch. “How did it go?”
I stop in the middle of peeling back the greasy paper wrapping. “Let’s just say…I am not looking forward to going back on Thursday.” I admit.
Wednesday turns to Flynn. “Did Dr. Fashu do something to her?”
Nothing about him gives off the slightest hint at the trauma that just unfolded. “His tests were very…thorough. Nothing that Octavia can’t manage.”
I know that isn’t going to satisfy her, so I pull up the sleeves of my shirt and show her what he did the first day. I describe the way it made me feel, that I was both hot and cold at the same time, and most importantly how I didn’t like it. Man, and I thought that part was bad.
“It’s a Chinese tradition among mages,” Flynn says. He’s taken the seat beside Wednesday. “Before our Psychic mages do any work on their patients, it is important that their bodies be balanced.”
I stare at him a moment longer, wondering if he is telling the truth or just helping me cleverly conceal the lie that lies beneath—that what follows next is pain. At least the agitator device is broken, and from his reaction, he won’t be getting another one any time soon.
“Either way,” I say, before anyone else can become overly interested in the rest of our session, “I did manage to get something useful out of it.”
I set the sandwich down on the table in front of me, wipe my hand across the top of my thighs, and stick it in my back pocket to retrieve the details of my upcoming trial—only to discover it’s missing.
“You looking for this?” Draven flicks his fingers and the paper appears. I get half out of my seat and snatch it away from him.
“We need to find a good use for those light fingers of yours,” I say.
“I can think of lots of good uses for my fingers.”
Wednesday coughs conspicuously, and I quickly pass her the paper. “You read it,” I say. “I’m starving.”
I’ve always had a weakness for foods smothered in cheese—but the break also has the added bonus that someone without dyslexia can confirm the dates and times.
My cheeks are stuffed with cheese, meat, and green peppers by the time her eyes have scanned just the first few lines.
“This…this is a lot.”
“Is it?” I’m barely able to get the words out without spewing food all over.
She passes the paper to Flynn beside her, and Kendall settles down to read over his shoulder. He lets out a low whistle while Flynn reads the entire thing. He glances up at me. “These first three—Earth, Psychic, Ritual—I have every conviction that you can do it.”
I know what is listed next. “Is it the Time Magic you’re worried about?”
But he shakes his head. “I imagine even the tribunal will show some laxity there. I think they just want you to demonstrate that you can do it at all. It is this last section I am most concerned about.” His brows knit together as he looks it over once more. Even Kendall looks concerned beside him.
I don’t tell them that I am worried about doing it at all since that won’t be much help to any of us.
“What is it?” Draven asks. He doesn’t crowd around to look. Instead, he nudges me up out of my chair and has me sit on his knee. Cedric is the only one left standing, but he doesn’t move to take the final remaining seat just yet.
“These tests—I’ve seen them before.”
I try to lean forward, as if somehow it will make me able to understand better even though I can only see the back of the paper from here.
“These are the same tests given to students in order to graduate.” He looks up and at each one of us in the room, one at a time, until his gaze finally settles on me. “In order to keep your magic, Octavia, you’re going to have to demonstrate two years’ worth of magic study before the end of your first semester. For Earth Magic alone you will be required to show a mastery of nearly a dozen materials.”
I wriggle out of Draven’s grasp and stand.
“But that can’t be right. That isn’t fair. How can they expect me to know that much?”
It is my turn to look at each of them in turn. The only one who doesn’t look shocked is Cedric. He finally steps away from the window and eases himself into his chair with a sigh.
“This is what I was afraid of,” he says.
Seeing him unnerved makes me anxious. Of all my boys, he probably knows what to expect from this test, and those who will be judging it, more than anyone else. So it is to him that I direct my next question.
“Is it even possible?”
For a second he stares, unseeing, into the hole in the middle of the coffee table. I can see Wednesday shifting uncomfortably out of the corner of my eye. This is probably not what she meant to get in the middle of when she came along with Kendall.
But then Cedric’s eyes flit up to meet mine. “That depends,” he says, “On how badly you want it.”
I stand there a moment, the words turning over in my mind. In just the last six weeks I have become a mage, been bound to four affinities and just as many mages. I’ve learned how to cast all of them, had my best friend kidnapped, and performed two ritual spells that should have been well out of range for my own capabilities as a new mage—the second one nearly killing me. Even now, I am subjecting myself to quite literally torture at the hands of a new doctor. All to be able to keep these powers.
It is not a question of me wanting it.
“Then what are we waiting for?” I ask.
15
Octavia
Last time we had one week. This time we have twelve.
We crowd around the table with a pencil and paper and map out a program of study that will make sure I can complete everything in time—so long as I don’t so much as get a runny nose. By the time we are done, the sun has already set below the tops of the buildings next door and left us in dim twilight. At some point, Wednesday passed out asleep in one of the chairs and has to be shaken awake to tell her we’re all calling it an early night.
“What?” She sits up and rubs her eyes. “But we didn’t even get to do anything.”
I show her the schedule we’ve laid out. Her eyes bug at the sight.
“Holy cow, where on this list are you given time to, I don’t know, live?”
I point to a tiny space at the bottom. “After all the tests are done with, that’s when.”
But even I don’t want to call it a night without something to show for today. So, before we leave, Flynn sits down with Wednesday and me and hands each of us a tiny glass marble he found in one of the vases on the mantle. “Start with these. Glass is considered one of the most difficult materials to master. It’s often perceived to be fragile, but that is not always the case. When tempered right…even the most delicate of things can be made strong.”
I need this strength in the morning when I prepare to walk into Psychic class once again. Of all my classes, it
is the most taxing. The kind of energy it expels is the kind I am the most in need of these days—mental. Especially after another sleepless night spent turning all that there is still left to do over, and over, and over until the very walls of my dorm room appear to be papered with the schedule we laid out just the day before.
But it is more than that.
So far I have been able to avoid one person in particular since my recovery. But since we have a class together, I’ve known that I will eventually have to face her.
It’s been weeks, but I am still not prepared to face Whitney—Cedric’s ex—who was also the subject of my wrath and subsequent Time Magic at Homecoming. The spell left her aged several months. It might not sound like much, but in the moment, it was as horrifying as it was surprising.
But I can’t avoid it. Not on the schedule we’ve laid out. So I shove open the door, a little harder than I should, and glance around the room looking for Cedric and Flynn. I do my best to avoid making eye contact with anyone, most of all Whitney, but I am not so fortunate. Before I can lay eyes on either of my boys, I spot her, first.
For the briefest second we lock eyes—and in that moment, I realize I have nothing to be afraid of. Because it is she who is afraid.
Just as quickly, she turns away and bows her head slightly so that her hair falls down in front of her face. Or, at least, what is left of it does. Once so long it grazed the center of her back, her hair now barely brushes the bottom of her earlobes. It is a brighter red color than I remember it—doubtless dyed that way to distract from the fact that her hair had to be cut out from the irreparable tangles my spellcasting knotted it into.
I wish I could say I am a good enough person to feel sorry for her. But I am not.
If anyone deserves it, it’s Whitney.
I finally spot Cedric and Flynn and scoot through the rows to sit beside them. Along the way, I notice that Whitney isn’t the only student who avoids making eye contact with me.
Adapt: Book Two of the Forgotten Affinities Series Page 8
