Chapter 10 #2
He came out a minute later, shuddering. “I can never unsee that,” he said, then smirked. “Still, poor hygiene’s a personal problem, not mine.”
I managed to grin with him before my smile fell. “What are we looking for?”
Xan laced our fingers together. “Professor Holiday has free rein as long as he does no harm. He already walks that line.” He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m looking for bodies.”
The blood drained out of my face, and he quickly tugged me through another door.
A computer graveyard mixed with debris filled the long corridor, but that was it.
We finally approached the last room, which would exit back into the first. Without even a pause, he threw open the door.
A blast of cool air blew my hair back. Shapes hung from the ceiling, and the sound of dripping pitter-pattered on the floor.
Three balls of mage light whizzed into the room, illuminating the scene.
My eyes stung from the sudden brightness, and I covered them while blinking, trying to adjust.
“They’re not human.” Xan let out a relieved breath. “This windowless room is a perfect meat locker. There are enough cattle and sheep to feed our family for half a year. But they’re not coming from our supply… that I know of.” He wrinkled his nose.
The shapes slowly gained details as my sight adjusted.
“What’s he doing?” Xan muttered before letting out a heavy sigh. “None of this breaks his deal. There’s nothing I can do. We have to leave him to it.”
My eyes adjusted, and the shapes took form: livestock hanging in rows, buckets beneath them catching slow drips of blood. Some were fresh, others crusted dark. The air was thick with iron. I wasn’t squeamish, but watching them sway in the dim light made my stomach turn.
As if feeling it, Xan slid to my side and pulled me under his arm. “Professor Holiday’s desperate to prolong his life. I’m sure this is just another of his attempts.” The edge dropped out of his voice. I swear, even the air around us relaxed. “Let’s hope he doesn’t cause a famine.”
Xan’s body heat seeped into me, and I suddenly realized how close we’d gotten.
As if he realized it at the same time, he quickly stepped to the side and clasped his hands behind his back.
It’s for the better, I reminded myself.
“I’m assuming, as you didn’t zombie march toward anything, you aren’t feeling a pull?” Xan’s easy smile was back, but his words made my heart sink.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
We walked back to the big room full of shelves, and I did a slow circle, looking for even the slightest reaction in my body or magic, and got nothing.
“He’s on his way back,” Xan said, startling me. “We need to go, now.”
“How do you know?” I asked, lowering my voice.
Xan lifted his TB, covered in faintly glowing messages.
I blushed, right. TBs actually did things when you had magic. Despite his warning, I dragged my feet. “Something has to be here. Just one more pass of the rooms?”
Xan shook his head. “Not unless you want the good professor giving you a tour?”
I looked at the flesh sewn onto metal on the table, and a shiver ran down my back. “No. I just really thought this was the answer.”
The weight of the world settled onto my shoulders.
“This was something.” Xan gripped my arm and tugged. “He just hit Crown Square, come.”
This was it. Not only was I still magicless—helpless—but now my night was over.
“I need to see how Professor Holiday reacts to his door.” I followed Xan’s tug as we jogged toward the exit. “I think it wouldn’t hurt to see if I’m drawn to him.”
“I don’t like any of that.” Xan scowled. “Least of all, you feeling drawn to him.”
We exited into the cold night.
Something glowed on Professor Holiday’s walking stick, outlining his form in the dark, now halfway to us. Stars twinkled behind him in the moonless night.
I didn’t care what Xan liked or didn’t like. There weren’t really bushes we could hide in, but the gym was just up a level and to the right. I bet we could see Professor Holiday’s door from the right spot.
I seized his hand and pulled him where I wanted to go.
Begrudgingly, he boosted me up to the gym level before climbing the little wall himself.
I’d been right. I made a big show of hiding the much taller and wider Xan behind me in the gym doorway as Professor Holiday hobbled to his home, monologuing to the air.
“Quinn, this is a bad idea,” Xan whispered, his breath warm on my ear as his hips brushed my back, but he didn’t move.
I smiled. As a paper pusher for the Architect, he probably followed every rule; this had to be way outside his comfort zone. His body heat kissed my back as he stood close, watching. The giddy thrill of it made me press my hands into our solid hiding place to keep from clapping.
Professor Holiday’s lopsided gait came to a stop a few feet from his door. “My door!” he screeched. “Scrappers! Ungrateful trainees, the lot of them!” A string of words in a language I didn’t know came out of his mouth.
Xan laughed.
Professor Holiday spun around and looked right at us, though there was no way he could make us out in the dark.
I let out a little whoop, grabbed Xan’s hand, and booked it around the far side of the coliseum. A familiar pull slowly beckoned me before a boom sounded behind us.
My need to turn vanished. Debris rained down on our backs, and we ran faster.
“Did he just throw magic at us?” I asked, still running.
Something bumped the back of my leg, and I stumbled. Instead of crashing to the ground, I found myself in a bridal carry in Xan’s arms.
His gaze flashed with childish joy. “He did. I forgot how exhilarating it is to break the rules.”
I laughed because Xan’s joy was infectious, and because I now knew for sure that something about Professor Holiday’s magic drew me to him. Not the monster on his table. Not his collection of junk, but his magic.
I hooked my arms around Xan’s neck to take some of my weight off his arms. We didn’t run for long; the castle wasn’t that big, and once we rounded the coliseum, guards and passing students gave us curious looks.
Xan put me down and guided us back to the library. I found myself sitting across from him in the romance section, exactly where our little adventure began.
He opened up his pocket-void and pulled out two sandwiches and two little cakes I’d never seen before. My stomach growled, and he grinned as if the sound was a victory.
“We can argue, but I’ll win.” His grin ate his face. “I need to celebrate. I’ve never done anything like that, and I’m buzzing. Oh.” He reached in again and pulled out a clay mug. He popped it open, and something fizzed.
I held up my hand. “I can’t. I have nothing to celebrate.”
Xan shook his head. “I disagree. We learned that whatever drew you to The Old Fortress wasn’t anything in it. It’s not what you wanted to learn, but information is power. It’s important.”
“It’s Professor Holiday’s magic, not even the man,” I blurted. “I felt the pull when he blasted us… if that’s what he did.”
“Blasted is an acceptable adjective, and that’s very puzzling. He ‘blasted us’ with raw power. A raw power tainted with his stain, but still pure energy.” Two glasses came out of his pocket-void.
I frowned at them. “I still can’t use my magic. This information didn’t help me.”
Xan poured the bubbly. “What exactly did Morgen tell you?”
He didn’t touch his cup or hand me one. He just waited. I had her story memorized at this point, and I recited it like a pro.
Xan gave me a little golf clap, which elicited a ‘shush’ from someone in the room across from ours.
“So, the trees saved her because they loved her, and she loved them,” Xan summarized. “The trees were there long before the tremors and changed as magic evolved. Do you have anything like that?”
I sighed. “No.”
Xan raised an eyebrow. “Where did you get what you’re wearing?”
I picked at my layers of black. “Out of my pocket-void.”
Xan’s eyes twinkled.
“I understand what you’re implying, but I’ve already thought of that.
Everything in my pocket-void was in there before the tremors and existed for as long as I have in this time.
Which is unknown.” I jerked, realized what I’d just said out loud, and rushed on as if what I’d just said was normal and not a life-altering admission.
“But I don’t think my pocket-void counted as existing in the world like the trees did.
The void is its own space, unaffected by time.
If it weren’t, wearing my undies should be enough. ”
Xan reached forward, cupped my cheek, and locked his gaze with mine. “But do you and your undies share a deep, emotional bond, Quinn?”
My jaw dropped. I hadn’t seen Xan pick up his little pastry, but he pushed a bite into my mouth. I should have been mad, or turned on, but I was so distracted by what he said, I just chewed the buttery little shortcake and let his words sink in.
Objects didn’t have emotions. But I guess trees didn’t either. However, the book on alloys discussed the concept of magical memory in conductive materials. Gold coins were the currency here because they were so versatile and held small quantities of magic.
Xan popped a bit of cake into his mouth and let out a little moan. “Ezra’s cakes are the best… and best washed down with a little bit of sparkling wine.”
My stomach fluttered, sending tingles to parts of me that shouldn’t be turned on. Magic 8-Pack could bake… no, Ezra baked these for Xan. They were adorable and perfect together.
Xan made a slight motion with his fingers. It took me a moment to stop picturing the two and realize he was asking me to open up my pocket-void.
My magic. Focus.
A connection. Something that I loved, and that loved me back.
The night my dad brought out the box full of bags, everything that child me had destroyed, rushed back to me. I assumed Miss Q put the box in my void, as it vanished after my next episode. With everything else going on in my life, I hadn’t given it a second thought.
I swallowed hard. If this were the future, then my dad had passed away years ago. He would have lived the rest of his life without me. Had he been happy? Without me bogging him down, had he met someone new? Maybe had a real life?
Questions filled my mind as I opened my pocket-void and reached for my box. I had to use both hands, as the box was roughly the width of my shoulders and half a foot tall, but soon enough, it rested in my lap.
After one deep breath, I opened the lid and pulled out a Ziploc bag of plastics and precious metals. ‘Quinn, Age Four, originally a collectible 1941 Cadillac convertible coupe Hot Wheel.’ Tears filled my eyes. I’d destroyed so much of his stuff.
I gripped the bag and pulled it to my chest.
Xan’s warm hand rubbed my back.
“I think I’m from the past,” I said. “I think my dad died a long time ago.”
“You are, and he did,” Xan said softly.
“How do you know? And help me God, if you purposely misunderstand any of that right now, I am going to shove this bag of Hot Wheel powder up your butt.”
He grinned at me before sobering. “I guess I don’t really know. But it fits too well to be anything else, and it’s something we can confirm together. Will you let me help you?”
I pulled the bag away from my chest and wiped my eyes. “I’d like that.”
Slowly, painfully, I opened the bag and dipped my finger into the gritty contents.
For a breathless instant, nothing happened, then the air stirred, alive with something unseen.
Goosebumps raced up my arms, and my heart thundered in my chest. The air itself hadn’t changed—I had.
Magic thrummed through me, wild and endless, the raw pulse of the world.
I wasn’t just touching it. I was the pool of magic in Rowan’s book. The universe breathed with me.
My heart raced. Without taking my finger out of the bag, I pinched my forearm to make sure I was still awake. Something sparkled in my peripheral vision.
Suddenly, all the cauldrons cut out. A few voices shouted, and someone cursed.
“Turn on the lights, Quinn,” Xan said softly.
I closed my eyes. Cayden told me that using magic was a matter of will. Ezra said it was a balance between what you wanted and what the world was capable of providing. I’m sure Rowan would tell me to set my stance and go for it; the only way to improve was to take the first shot.
Without opening my eyes, I ‘willed’ the cauldrons back to life. Blinding bright light cut through my eyelids. I blinked them open to see Xan smiling down at me, surrounded by prismatic light dancing with rainbows.
He reached forward and pulled a lock of my hair away from my face. I blinked in confusion. Instead of seeing red curls, a solid strip of semi-transparent hair danced with the identical prisms.
Xan handed me a cup of bubbly. “I think we have something to celebrate now.”