Chapter 6 #3
“Before the species wars, humans were part of the community. There was no separation between us,” Percy says softly. “But yes. That’s what happened.”
I narrow my eyes, thinking about it. “So all the species had abilities. What did humans have? Magic?”
David grins. “Yes. It’s not well known, because most humans don’t use it anymore, and many members of the community just don’t pay attention to humans anyway. But before the magic intervened and hid us all from humanity, humans used the magic in the same common way that we use our abilities.”
“And when the magic made humans forget the community, it also made us forget about the magic?” That seems kind of unfair…
although since we were on the verge of wiping out about half a dozen highly developed sentient species at the time, I can kind of see why the magic thought it might be a good idea.
Like taking a hammer away from a toddler.
David spreads his hands. “Yes. We can’t be entirely certain why, but the most popular theory is that knowing about the magic would either jog humanity’s memory about the rest of us, or make them somewhat more accepting of the idea of ‘supernatural’ species living among them—which could then lead to our exposure.
” He shrugs. “I lean toward a combination of both, that having magic would make it seem logical to humans that other species could exist, thus jogging their memories of not only us, but also the wars, and potentially restarting them. I can’t be sure—not yet, anyway—but I believe it took several generations before any humans started using the magic again, by which time none of them would have had any suppressed memories of the wars and us that could be triggered. ”
I follow that theory through from one end to the other, and it makes sense.
It’s actually kind of interesting. I lean forward, propping my forearms on my thighs.
“So humans all have the ability to use the magic, but we just don’t know it?
And because we’ve convinced ourselves magic doesn’t exist, we don’t even stumble upon it by accident? ”
“Yes!” David’s excitement lights up his face.
He really is a geek about this stuff. “More, most human magic practitioners are Wiccan. They’ve tied their use of the magic to a religion that further restricts what they can use it for.
Not that I advocate using the magic to harm others—not that the magic would allow itself to be used that way—”
“Wait, but didn’t humans use the magic during the wars? If they weren’t weaponizing it, how were things able to get to the point they did?”
“Numbers, mostly, remember? The fertility rate—”
“Yeah, sorry. I forgot. But still…”
He nods. “This is where I have to do some more research. I believe humans were weaponizing the magic, but not directly. As in… if their intent had been ‘kill those shifters,’ the magic would have refused to respond. But if it was ‘hold my attackers in place,’ or something like that—”
“The magic would have helped. Which would have allowed humans to pick them off with no risk to themselves.” It’s a terrible reflection on humanity that the idea doesn’t surprise me. I can imagine some human general coming up with such tactics.
“Exactly. But I can’t prove that yet.”
“It makes sense, though. Especially when you consider that the magic would finally have noticed the dropping numbers among the community species, realized what the humans were doing, and pretty much took away their toy until they learned how to behave responsibly.”
Andrew bursts out laughing, and I blink at him in surprise.
I’d actually forgotten he and Percy were here.
He’s lounging back against the couch, his feet kicked up on the coffee table.
The overhead lights gleam against his silver hair.
It’s really unfair that he looks like a GQ model ready for a photo shoot, even though I know he overindulged last night.
Speaking of… “Why aren’t you hungover?”
It’s his turn to blink. “What?”
“You were drunk last night. Why aren’t you hungover? Sam and Elinor are suffering down the hall.”
He shrugs. “Natural resilience.”
Percy chokes on his coffee, and David laughs out loud. I look at them, then back at Andrew and raise an eyebrow.
“Oh, really?”
He smiles charmingly. “Sort of. Vampires can use charisma on themselves… to a certain extent. That minimizes the effects of the hangover. And I found a really good remedy many years ago. Plus, I wasn’t that drunk.”
“Oh, so Hammertime is something you do sober?” I smirk at him, but the asshole just smirks back.
“I have done. There’s nothing I’ve done drunk that I won’t do sober, Noah. I don’t need alcohol to fortify me.”
I hold back a shiver. That should not have been as sexy as it was.
Nothing about Andrew should be sexy. Clearly, I need to get out more if my sex-starved hormones are fixating on Andrew.
I never went for older guys before. Of course, with the way Andrew behaves most of the time, it’s hard to think of him as “older.”
“Can I interject here,” Percy says calmly, “and ask why it sounds like most of my senior team was drunk on a weeknight?”
“It was Noah’s birthday,” Andrew says solemnly. “We were morally obliged to party it up.”
Yes. He actually said “party it up.”
I’m half expecting Percy to rebuke him, but he just grins at me and says, “Happy Birthday, Noah. I’m sorry I missed it.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, a bit thrown off stride. “The party was a last-minute thing, so don’t worry about it.” I turn to David, eager to change the subject. “So… humans gradually began rediscovering magic?”
He nods. “Yes, but those who used it or were suspected to were mostly reviled. The village ‘witch’ was always the first to get blamed if something went wrong, even if she was just someone who knew herbal lore and had no actual ability. And then there was the Inquisition and the witch trials and the rest. So humans have been indoctrinated over thousands of years to not believe magic or any ‘extra’ ability exists. Those few who do have tied it to very ritualistic practices, needing spells and charms and other paraphernalia to make it work.”
I shake my head, confused. “But you said I used the magic before?”
“You did,” Percy confirms. “And I don’t think it’s the first time. If David’s right, you’ve been using it for a while.”
That only confuses me more, but David launches into another explanation.
“Wiccan spellcasting practices are just window dressing. Some subsets almost have it right when they talk about will, but they still insist on their rituals—remember, it’s part of their religion.
If what I think is true—and from some very cursory research, it looks like it might be—humans originally never needed any kind of spells or trappings to use the magic.
It was about training, focus, and will, the same as for any of the rest of us with our abilities. ”
“But I’ve never had training.” It seems fantastic that I could have just stumbled across this ability.
He shrugs. “I’m still looking into it, but we see this in our kids all the time.
They haven’t yet been taught to do something, but in moments of high energy, it bursts out of them.
It’s part of why shifters lock down their children’s ability to shift until they’re older.
Demons do the same. Young demons aren’t supposed to be able to teleport, but there used to be instances where a tantrum turned into something a lot scarier. Will is a powerful thing.”
I guess it makes sense. “Like… you need training to become an MMA fighter, but anyone can flail wildly and hit someone?”
Andrew coughs, and David pastes on a polite expression. “Well—”
I wave dismissively. “Never mind. Bad analogy. So when do you think I’ve been using magic?” The answer comes to me almost before the question’s out. “In the labs?”
David nods. “What happened to you there, how you survived, is just so incredibly lucky. A series of perfectly timed coincidences that just fit together like a puzzle. It’s been playing on my mind for months.
Isn’t it far more likely that you were inadvertently using the magic to keep yourself alive? ”
My chest tightens as images—memories—flash through my mind.
“But… but that would mean that the magic knew what was happening to me. What Tish was doing.” I can’t get my head around that.
I know the magic doesn’t “speak” directly to Percy, but from what I’ve been told, it communicates fairly clearly with him about things it’s aware of.
And if I was using it, it would have been aware of me.
As if it knows what we’re saying, the magic tightens its grip on me, and all I want in that second is for it to be gone.
But David’s shaking his head. “Not necessarily. I know it was a while ago, but can you remember what you were thinking at those times of extreme luck?”
What I was thinking? Is he fucking stupid? I was thinking that I didn’t want to die!
Except… was I? My thoughts are all jumbled with this new information and an influx of anxiety. I put a hand to my forehead. “Can you… just wait? I need…” Fuck, what do I need?
“It’s fine, Noah,” Andrew says firmly. “There’s no rush. We can leave this for now if you want.”
“Absolutely,” David agrees. “I didn’t mean to stress you out like this. I’m sorry. And as I said, it’s just a theory. I could be completely wrong.”
My churning gut settles a little. “I just need a minute.” I need to think this through. There’s something I’m missing.
“Take as long as you need,” Percy assures me.
Breathing evenly, I close my eyes, using some of my newly acquired meditation techniques to calm myself.
I am never, ever, not ever telling Andrew how grateful I am he insisted I take up meditation.
It’s been less than a day and already it’s saving my ass, but he’ll lord it over me until the end of days if he finds out.
Smug bastard.