Chapter 9 #2
Looking at my eager face, he hesitates, like he’s deciding how much to tell me.
“All right, I am going to say something, and I’m going to need you to leash your excitement.
Don’t want the magic starting up again.” His tone is gruff but there’s a glint of amusement crinkling his eyes. “There is a library—”
A rush of joy. “A library!”
“—a library,” he continues as though I hadn’t interjected. “Now, I’m not supposed to bring regular humans there. For obvious reasons.”
He pauses, and I hang on the silence. The thought of not getting to go there is too much to bear. I need to read those books.
“However,” he says, “you’re not exactly a ‘normal’ human anymore.”
“When can we go?!” I glance toward the door, wondering if we might be able to leave right away, but memories of the echo-beast attack bring me up short. “Can we bring the ‘wards’ with us, somehow?” Because I have so much to learn, it would be best to start immediately.
“Easy, Librarian. Why don’t you focus on the ones here, first?”
“But why? Wouldn’t it be better to see the whole catalogue of what we have access to, and narrow it down by category and topic, based on what we think is most likely to have pertinent information, and then go from there?”
“Mhm, sure. But you’re forgetting something important.”
I furrow my brow. What could be more important than this?
“Control,” he rumbles, the word coming out low and heavy. Firm. It cuts through my intellectual frenzy. “We start with control.” There’s something wry in the way he says it.
He reaches out, not for me, but for the book in my hands, his fingers almost brushing mine. “First, you learn how to keep from tearing my home apart.” His gaze, steady and unwavering, pulls me in. “Then, we talk about research.”
A fragile thread of optimism, mixed with a healthy dose of impatience, forms within me. He isn’t dismissing me. He’s simply setting priorities—priorities which make logical sense.
“The book suggests I can ‘master’ it,” I say hopefully.
“I know you can,” he replies with a confidence I don’t feel. “And I’ll help you.”
***
I want to start training immediately, but Kade insists I take a break after the uncontrolled magic surge. Not only because of the echo-beast, but because of the tiring effect of using magic, or so he claims. But I don’t feel tired.
And by “break,” I don’t think he was imagining me ransacking his bookshelf and setting up a research station on his table, but that’s exactly what I’m doing, while he looks on in helpless bemusement and makes judgmental comments about me engaging in strenuous activity on an injured ankle.
If I can’t practice, I will learn as much as I can in the meantime.
I’ve commandeered a notebook and pen to keep track of what’s in each of the books, as well as any important information or connections.
I’m also keeping a note on my phone for the most significant things.
So far, it only has the excerpt from the first book.
It seems my magic—my “Cognitive Resonance”—was able to pick out the exact information I needed from everything that’s available here.
What an absolutely incredible and useful ability.
I buzz with excitement at the idea of being able to use this.
I’ll need to test the limits of it, of course.
Does it work on the internet, for example?
Because with all of the misinformation and sludge on there, the idea of being able to actually find correct and relevant information feels like a dream.
And what about historical records? The book said something about “true history.” Scholars dedicate their lives to discerning the truth about historical documents—will I be able to just know? What discoveries await?
I’m lost in thought, reading the texts and making meticulous notes, when my phone vibrates from somewhere underneath a pile of materials. I hunt through the papers until I find it, before realizing it’s only a spammy notification.
Then it hits me—I have my phone back. And, I have been missing from my apartment since yesterday. Shit. I should probably let people know that I’m okay.
My thumb hovers over Em’s contact while I put my thoughts in order. I can’t tell anyone what is actually happening, obviously; but I don’t want anyone to worry, either.
Alanna
Hey Em, guess what?
Em
ur date went so well that u eloped. how dare u get married without my renowned presence!
Alanna
Close, but no. I found my phone, lol.
Em
obvi
Alanna
I also wanted to let you know
My fingers stop midsentence. How to phrase this?
Alanna
that I won’t be at my place for a little while.
Em
OMG R U WITH THAT GUY STILL? 3RD DATE GUY?
Putting a hand over my forehead in a blend of vexation and amusement, I think carefully about my response.
Alanna
No! It’s a work project. I’m going to be out of town for a bit. Big new acquisition to go through at a sister library.
It’s not a perfect lie, but it will do.
Em
zzz for real
One down. I send similar texts to my mom, and Lizzy and Jen, then shoot a quick email to work about a “family emergency.” The lies feel icky, but what else am I supposed to do? I can’t go back until . . . until I figure this all out. I choose not to think too deeply about what, exactly, that means.
I’m about to turn back to my research when another text from Em comes in.
Em
btw mom wants to know if u know a good electrician?
I freeze. It can’t be.
Alanna
What? Why? What’s going on?
Em
dunno, power flickers or w/e. not happening to the neighbors (mom asked). she wants me to tell u maybe something wrong with AC too. too cold in here
“Kade.” The quaver in my voice must have given me away because he’s at my side immediately, tense and on alert. “My sister. She says the power is flickering. And it’s too cold. It—it’s the echo-beast, isn’t it?” The words are barely a whisper. My family.
Kade’s jaw tightens, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic warehouse, then back to my face.
“You’ve had this magic for a week, untrained, uncontrolled.
Unstable. We know the echo-beast is stalking you.
Did you see your family this past week?” His face is grim as I nod, feeling sicker with every passing moment.
“It’s like a scent trail. It must be drawn to people you’ve been in contact with. ”
Nausea grips me, the horrifying implications taking root.
“We have to go there. Em. My mom. They’re in danger.” I wave my phone in his face—still open to the texts with Em—as evidence.
He grimaces and closes his eyes briefly, a deep look of pain on his face.
Then he locks his focus on me, holding my gaze and keeping me from feeling like I’m falling.
Slowly, deliberately, he shakes his head.
“No. It’s not there, not really. Not yet.
It’s sniffing out the lingering echo of your magic, the traces you left behind.
The residual chaos you left on them. It’s not actively hunting them. Not like it hunts you.”
Palpable relief unfurls within me, quickly followed by a fresh pang of guilt.
My fault. All of it. If I wasn’t so me, this wouldn’t be happening to them.
This is why people leave. My entire life, I’ve tried to contain myself, to not overwhelm, to fit neatly into the quiet corners.
But now, my very existence is a threat, a chaos I can’t control, spilling out and endangering everyone I love.
“But it could get worse,” I insist, tight with suppressed panic.
“Exactly,” Kade says bluntly, his eyes pinning me with their dark intensity.
“So we don’t rush in blind. You go there now, untrained, still a walking bonfire of raw uncontrolled magic, and you don’t just put yourself in danger.
You lead it right to them. You make it worse.
” His voice is firm, unyielding. “The best thing you can do for them is stay away.”
Just like that, all of the loneliness I felt earlier comes rushing back, a tsunami of isolation.
It crashes into me, buffeting me against the rocks.
I can’t see my loved ones. I’m stuck in this warehouse with a man who was a stranger less than twenty-four hours ago.
Who is still a stranger, in so many ways.
But he’s right, and I won’t deny the truth.
This isn’t a problem to be solved with frantic action, but with discipline and understanding.
I need to find out more about the echo-beast—and hopefully, how to beat it.
And I have to learn how to wield this magic that I’ve been given. Or get rid of it.
The fear for my family and friends hardens into fierce resolve. This isn’t just about me anymore, it’s about everyone I care about. I will figure out how to keep them safe. I will learn how to master this. Then, I’ll be able to see them again.
But for now, all I have . . . is him.