Lives of Magic (Seven Wanderers Trilogy) (25 page)

Suddenly, I felt a small thread of panic wind itself around my heart. A pull like the one I had felt in the park in New York City was somewhere I couldn’t see. A black hole. A concentration of power. But I couldn’t see anything. The magical blindness was agonizing as I pressed against the window trying to see all around my friends. Couldn’t they feel it?

From the edge of the courtyard where the pub entrance was, Moira emerged carrying a box. It pulsed in my vision. I banged on the window, knowing I couldn’t make it down in time. I watched, helpless, as she handed it to Kian, who recognized it for what it was. He grabbed it and threw it as far as he could and out of my sight.

Time slowed down for me as my heart beat nearly out of my chest and my banging on the window went unheard. After a second or so, a loud bang rang throughout the hotel and caused my room to shake. The window cracked and some debris and dust covered my friends below. Not caring that I was barefoot and still in my pyjamas, I raced from my room.

I
felt like I flew as I raced down the staircase nearest to my room and out one of the side doors. With every step, I expected to trip and fall as my feet moved faster than I could think. Surprised at my own agility, I made it down to the courtyard.

The windows facing the yard were blown in and the beams on the new overhang were smashed again. The pub’s door was off of its hinges and the shed that we had been shooting arrows at was flattened. My heart stopped as I saw three scattered and prone forms.

In the settling dust, I rushed towards my friends. The tightness in my chest alleviated slightly when I saw Kian slowly move to push himself up off of the ground. While his back and head were covered in dirt, the front half of his blue shirt was clean. Garrison was covered from head to toe and sat up slowly, pulling on his ears. Moira, a few yards away, was on her side and blinking dazedly. She was also covered in gravel.

I briefly contemplated Kian’s clean side. He had hit the ground first. He had felt it. The concentration of power was evident to me — I had felt the pulse of it when the magicians had tried to suck Seth’s power in New York and when I gathered too much just weeks ago. Desperate, I had sucked the energy from around me and concentrated my magic to get power. My panic increased when I thought of Seth.

I ran over to Kian and began to drag him up while he still struggled to stand.

“Let’s go!” I shouted in his ear. He looked at me confusedly.

“What?” he yelled back.

I began to repeat myself, but when he shook his head, I gave up. I understood his hearing would be shot for the next little while so I took matters into my own hands. Propriety aside, I stuck my hand in his jeans pocket and retrieved the keys to the car.

“Seth!” I yelled into his face, jangling the keys as one would entertain a baby.

Even though Kian still wobbled where he stood, he understood my hint. As he scrambled over to Moira, hotel employees and guests began funnelling out of the pub and main hotel building. I could hear sirens in the distance.

Dread filled me as people approached us. I envisioned a lengthy questioning followed by police interrogation. When I had gathered that much magic to myself, it exploded as soon as I let it go. A theory began to form in my mind as I glanced at Moira. In the confusion, she stood still, swaying slightly. I guessed what the package had been.

I turned to see Kian taking her elbow and pushing past the crowd that had assembled around us. I helped Garrison to his feet, slung his arm over my shoulders, and followed Kian into the parking lot.

I was surrounded by a procession of coughing, stumbling, dirty people. Moira was visibly shaking and Garrison coughed up so much of the dust that he gave himself a nosebleed. By the time I got him into the car, I had enough blood on my shirt to believe I had been involved in the blast.

Kian, luckily, was intact enough to drive. Though I worried for my friends, they were still very much alive. Seth, wired to machines in his hospital room, would be a much easier target.

As Garrison shook his head to each side to clear his hearing, all while leaning back to stop the blood pouring from his nose, he attempted to speak. It first came out as a gurgle, but I could discern words on the second try.

“What-was-that?” he rasped. Then, “Seth?”

I turned to him, ready to voice my fear, but my eyes must have given it away. His jaw dropped slightly and he leaned back against the seat, looking ready to faint. Moira was in front with Kian, who still hadn’t said anything. I pressed myself through the middle space between the two front seats and stared at Kian, urging him to start talking.

“It was a trap,” was all he said. His knuckles held the wheel in a death grip. “Like the trap in the park.” I saw his eyes glance up to the rear view mirror and at Moira, who gazed blankly out the window.

“Moira, are you okay?” I asked. She sat next to Garrison, who still had his head back in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

She nodded at me faintly, but her face didn’t even register hearing my words. Worried, I turned back to Kian.

“Explain,” I said. My head kept swivelling between him and Moira. She looked paler and held herself as if she was about to wilt.

“It was magic attached to an item,” Kian said grimly. “The kind of magic that stole your powers in the park. Moira was meant to be drawn into it, but …”

“She gave it to you first,” I finished for him. My theory was proving correct. “It’s like when I drew all that power to me and then let it go. If she held it she would have just fed it until there was nothing left.”

Kian nodded but his eyes glanced up again and I realized how insensitive I’d been. I turned to reassure her but she still gazed out the window in shock.

“Why all the games?” I whispered. Suddenly, I was exhausted. The danger was too real.

“If they had wanted you dead, you would be dead,” Kian replied. “If they’ve not killed you, then they will enslave you.”

A fire rose in my throat. The anger sizzled in my blood and smoke began to emerge from under where my hands still held the two front seats. I felt like a farm animal, lulled into security by repeated close calls until I was needed for the slaughterhouse. The thought of being used against my will repulsed me.

We all sat in silence, staring at Kian. Any confidence that I had felt for my small progresses and memories evaporated and was replaced by a sense of failure.

Within five minutes we were at the hospital. Wordlessly, we shuffled out and proceeded to the fourth floor. Stares followed us as Moira and Garrison left streaks of dirt in the clean hall. I was cold in my pyjamas, which consisted of a long-sleeved shirt and shorts. I was barefoot.

My heart accelerated as we exited the elevator. It was dumb to leave Seth alone. The regret pulsed through me.

When we reached his door and found the bed empty, I nearly flew at the nurse who stood a few feet away. Before I could react, she called to us.

“He’s changing into the set of clothes you brought,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

Embarrassed that my panic was evident, I turned to the nurse to thank her. When she caught site of me, her jaw dropped.

“Do you need help?” she asked, rushing over and making straight for Garrison’s blood on my shirt.

“No, I’m fine,” I replied. “It’s someone else’s.”

“Whose?” the nurse nearly wailed. The idea that someone might be covered in someone else’s blood plainly seemed like a horror movie to her.

“Mine,” Garrison said from behind me. His voice was still nasally due to him pinching his nose shut.

As the nurse began to fuss over Garrison and lead him away to be examined by doctors, I turned to Moira. She was still shaking.

“Who gave you that parcel?” I asked her quietly.

“Some man,” she replied as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

“Do you remember anything about him?”

She shook her head. It was strange trying to comfort her since I had to look up just to meet her eyes. I noticed her hands were clasped behind her back and that she had put herself into a corner. The positioning seemed strange to me. Before I could ask, she spoke.

“What was that thing?” Her voice trembled almost as much as her body. While much taller and sturdier than me, Moira shook like an autumn leaf in the wind. “I didn’t feel anything strange. Did I do something wrong?”

Kian ran a nervous hand through his hair. While we waited for Seth, the anxious energy between us grew. “It was a concentration of power,” he replied. “Like the kind Gwen used to free herself from the magical attack of her memories. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A shiver ran up my spine as I remembered the cold rings on the strong hands that had wrapped themselves around my throat.

“It’s how the magicians move the earth and work their magic. They steal power from things around them. They are magical parasites, feeding off life strength and throwing power at the things they wish to destroy.”

“When I …” My sentence was lost as I considered what I had done.

“When you pulled the energy to yourself like that,” Kian finished for me, “had you held on any longer, you would have ignited along with everything else around you.”

I remembered the pressure as I lay on the ground, dying.

“Wiser and stronger magicians know how to bundle that power and put it into objects. They can control it. But that brings about another complication,” he said.

“What?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. I had had enough control to push the magic away from me before the energy burst. Even with more control, that amount of bundled energy can’t get far.

“They’re near,” Kian said, confirming my suspicions.

Sudden paranoia pricked at my back and again I felt like I was a swivel-head doll, craning my neck by trying to turn in too many directions at once. While the hospital hallway was empty, I felt like someone was watching me from around every corner.

My attention fell back to Moira, who was trying to fit herself further into the corner. Kian followed my gaze.

“What …” He had initially assessed her for injuries when she lay on the ground in shock. She had been covered in dirt then.

Kian placed both his hands carefully on Moira’s shoulders and she cringed, shying away from him. Her position left her nowhere to retreat to as he moved his hands down and forced her clasped hands out from behind her back.

The breath escaped from my lungs as I gaped in shock. Beginning between her elbows and wrists, Moira’s forearms and hands resembled those of a much older person. Her fingers were all knuckle and the skin was so thin and pale it looked to be almost translucent. The tops of her hands were covered in spots and the skin hung loosely over the muscle. The sight seemed to surprise even her, and she gasped upon seeing the damage.

Kian’s face immediately set in the stony stare I had nearly forgotten. He gently placed her hands back down by her sides, his gaze lingering.

“It could have sucked your magic dry, getting your body’s energy as well,” he told Moira. “If you had brought the package to your side or front, you would have felt those effects,” he gestured to her hands, “all over.”

She looked down as silent tears tickled down her face. “Can it be fixed?” she asked in a small voice. She had moved her hands behind her again, as if trying to forget them.

Kian nodded encouragingly, though the worry in his eyes told a different story. Before we could discuss more, Seth appeared with a doctor noting something in a chart. Though the morning had been terrible, I felt lighter knowing he was safe. He waved and said something to the doctor before coming over. In his everyday clothes and unhooked from the machines, I felt he was truly healed.

“Well,” he announced, “thank you, travel insurance.”

When we failed to laugh, he had a look around. Kian and Moira were covered in dirt, but with the training we had been put through, this could have been easily explained. Seth turned to examine me.

“It’s the afternoon. Why are you still in your pyjamas?” Then, “Is that blood?”

While we waited for Garrison to be examined, we filled Seth in on what had happened and questioned him about any visitors he may have had. Seth admitted to sleeping too much to notice anyone coming and going, but the hospital had been quiet.

“Too weak,” Kian finally said. “You were hurt and then put on so many drugs that you probably did not remember anything new. Your magic was beyond your reach, and anyone else’s.”

Seth nodded. “Nothing new,” he confirmed.

“Your magic is now weaker than the rest,” Kian said. His eyes rested on Moira, and I could nearly see him trying to sense how much power she truly had. His calculating gaze pierced her and she tried to retreat further into the corner.

A part of her magic, and her life, had been stolen. But how much remained? And what would be done with what was taken from her? Probably feeling outcast from the camaraderie the rest of us had already built, she had kept her memories and magic to herself. I could see the tears shining in her eyes and felt guilty once again for not making more of an effort to include her.

Garrison returned with a clean face and cotton balls stuck up his nose. He paused briefly in front of Seth, and I could see the relief as it washed over both of them. The moment deepened the resolution in me to succeed.

The truth of our defensive journey had sunk in. We were fighting for our lives. We were on the defence, needing to get stronger if only to survive. I was done being weak.

A week passed. Separate hurricanes hit both Florida and California. The news coverage was so extensive that I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. The hundreds of thousands of displaced people weighed on my mind. Images of drowned houses and abandoned cities flooded my dreams.

We moved out of the hotel. Though they never accused us of anything, I felt the staff and frequent guests were glad to see us go. I had still not relaxed since I found out how closely we were being watched. Moira had gotten to an arm’s length of the people trying to steal our magic, and she had paid the price. She wore black gloves now to hide what the blast had taken from her. While Seth was better and Garrison eventually got his full hearing back, the week crawled by at a snail’s pace. I was itching to get moving.