How was I supposed to get rid of so much magic when there was so damn much magic filling the room?
Maeve stood, and I would have worried about that, but I was a little busy trying not to explode and burn the place down. I had a feeling they wouldn’t let me come back to school if I killed the teacher on the first day.
Magic burned, squeezing my bones. I bit my lip to keep from moaning and twinkle-twinkled with all my might.
Something cold and heavy dropped into my lap.
Like blowing out a candle, the magic in me went dead.
Okay, this time I moaned, not from pain, but from relief.
Maeve was standing next to me, bent a little. She studied my face. “I can’t believe it. I never thought. .”
I blinked, looked down at the heavy thing in my lap. A rock. A plain black and gray river rock, smooth and oblong, about the size of a loaf of bread.
“Here,” she said.
I glanced up and took the ice water she offered me.
“Thanks.” I drank, and when I was done, she set the glass back on the table. “Really nice rock,” I noted.
Maeve sat on the coffee table in front of me and put one hand on my knee. “How long have you held magic inside of you?”
“You could tell?” I asked, probably stupidly.
“Not before now. I knew magic had marked you. From the outside. .” She leaned back a little and her gaze wandered over me, her eyes still silver, but with a lot more green in them. “From the outside it does not show.” She shook her head. “Are you Shielding?”
“No. Mostly I just try not to let it burn me up.”
“But you have used it? Drawn upon the magic within you and successfully cast spells?” I couldn’t tell if she was excited or worried.
“A lot. I Hound for a living, remember? Why? Is that a problem?”
She laughed, but it came out a little shaky. “I wouldn’t call it a problem. It’s just so unheard-of. How long have you been able to carry magic?”
“All my life. Just a small bit, enough to work one minor spell. It always took a while to fill back up.”
“You were born with it?” She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. When she exhaled, she muttered something that involved my father’s name and a couple curse words. “No wonder he never brought you to us, never let you learn.” Maeve’s hand dropped to her lap. Her eyes were almost all green now, and she looked resigned. “You hold much more than a small amount now, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“And that changed when you received those marks on your hands? Positive”-she pointed at the wild whorl of colors up my right arm to my temple-“and negative.” She pointed to the solid black bands around each of the knuckles and the wrist of my left hand. “Classic natural representation of the give-and-take of magic. Pleasure and price.”
“Yes, it changed when I got marked.”
“When did that happen? How?”
I didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t want to be vulnerable, exposed. Have I mentioned I have trust issues?
“Do you really need to know that?”
“If you want me to stand as your advocate at the testing ground, yes, I really need to know that.”
“Testing ground?”
“In three days, your control of magic will be tested in front of the members of the Authority.”
This must be the test my dad kept talking about.
“Is that when you decide if I deserve to use magic? If you should just erase all my memories about the Authority and put limits on what I can do?” It came out angry, which was no surprise since it pissed me off that someone else thought they could tell me how to live my life.
Yes, I knew that wasn’t the worst thing they could do to me. Zayvion had told me they could go so far as try to kill me if they thought I was too much of a danger or risk to myself or others.
Of course, I wasn’t going to just stand around while they threw rocks at me, or whatever they did to get rid of people they didn’t want in their little club.
Maeve stood and sat back in the plush chair. “It may not seem fair, or lawful in the ways of the modern world. It is an ancient custom. A test to discover your abilities, your limits, your control. Things that can mean the life or death of those you would stand beside. It is necessary. Every person in the Authority has gone through it.”
“So I don’t have to like it, but I still have to do it?”
She nodded.“Tell me when magic claimed you with those marks.” Woman was all about getting down to business.
I did some quick thinking, something I hadn’t done enough of lately. Since I didn’t want to bring undue attention to Nola, I decided to skip the part where I explained I didn’t actually remember getting the marks, and tell her instead what Nola had told me I told her. Confusing, but hey, when you have a memory with more holes than a pair of hand-me-down fishnet stockings, you make do.
“I was trying to get a man to the hospital. He was injured, and when I tried to help him, he reached through me and connected to magic. Then he. . um, pulled magic through me and into me. It fed the magic I already carried, made it stronger so that it burned”-I thought about that, nodded to myself-“burned these marks into me.”
“And where did this happen?”
“Over in St. Johns.”
Maeve’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure?”
I thought back on it. I was sure Nola told me I had found Cody down by the river in St. Johns. I’d been running from gun-toting Bonnie at the time, but was slowed by trying to carry Cody and his cat. I’d told Nola that Cody was nearly dead when I found him. But she said by the time Zayvion had driven Cody and me out to her farm, his wounds were gone.
“I’m sure. St. Johns.” I suddenly realized why she looked so surprised. St. Johns was off-grid. A dead zone. There was no naturally occurring magic there, and Portland hadn’t seen fit to budget in a network out into the fifth quadrant of the city.
Which meant I should not have been able to pull on that much magic like that there. Which meant Cody should not have been able to pull on that much magic like that there either. “Who was the man you were helping?” Maeve asked.
“I wasn’t formally introduced-”
“Allie,” and there was tangible weight behind her words and a familiar honey taste. “Tell me the name of the man you helped in St. Johns.”
“Cody,” I said, under the spell of the Influence she’d just used on me. “Cody Miller.”
Maeve didn’t ask me anything more. All the color washed out from beneath her skin. She traced a circle in the air and drew her finger across it in a slash, breaking the Influence she’d used on me.
I hated Influence. “I would have told you without the push,” I said.
“I’m sorry. It was-it is-very important.” She wasn’t looking at me anymore, but instead over my shoulder at the middle distance there. She sounded distracted, her voice thin.
“Maeve?”
She cleared her throat and visibly pulled herself together enough to give me a small smile.
“Thank you for your honesty. I won’t Influence you again-it is rude. Most people don’t notice it, though,” she said. “Tell me how you’re feeling. Is the stone helping with the overflow of magic?”
I took quick inventory. I felt great, actually. A little tired, but a lot less pushed around by magic. As a matter of fact, even my headache was better. I felt light, like someone had just pulled a lead blanket off me.
“Better,” I said. “What kind of stone is this?”
“A void stone.” At my look, she waved her hand dismis sively. “Some stones have the right combination of chemical compounds and exposure to magic that they actually become void to it and are able to project a calming or negating effect on magic.”