Mine to Spell (Mine #2) (18 page)

“No offense here, only agreement. I can’t do much to change things, but I will still try.” Will it even make a difference? Who knows. “So what’s one of your favorite spells?”

“
This one.” She holds out one hand in front of her, then waves her other across it. Purple and teal fly to her fingernails. Once the spell stops, she wiggles her newly colored nails at me. Purple with mini-sparkles at the bottoms with bigger teal sparkles fanning out across the tips.

“
Incredible. And nothing like I expected.” I giggle.

“
Sadly, there’s not much need for frivolous things here.”

“
True, but there should be. Can you teach it to me?”

“
Love to! What color do you want? It will be influenced by your feelings, but we can adjust for that some.”

Over the next few hours, she teaches me how to pick colors and focus them on my nails until they become that color. At first it’s harder than I expect. Even though I see her do it, I’ve rarely seen colored nails and it’s difficult to think about colors melding onto them. Finally, I get a variant color of blue firmly in mind, close my eyes, and push it onto my thumbnail. The result is not exactly like what Waverly showed me, but I love it. The blue, ranging from a deep midnight to a soft sky color, swirls lazily onto my nail, leaving parts of my nail still visible.

“That’s great. The swirl means you need more practice getting it on there fully, but you’ve got the basics.”

I grin. “Guess I should get the rest of them done.”

Without waiting for her reply, I close my eyes and I repeat it to each of them. It grows easier to imagine pushing out the color with each one. Upon inspection, perhaps I did too well, as the nails are fully midnight blue.

Waverly laughs. “You’ve definitely figured it out.”

“So it seems, but I think I like the swirling pattern best.”

It takes another hour for me to figure out how to pull some of the color off my nails so that only varying swirled patterns remain. I don’t think I’ll ever go without colored nails again.

“This is fantastic. Thank you!”

“
You’re welcome,” she replies. “You said something earlier about smoothing your hair down. How do you do that?”

The spell flows out of me with familiar ease.

Waverly oohs over it. “How did you figure that out?”

“
Before I started casting it, Serena would always get in trouble for not keeping my hair properly pulled back into a bun.”

“
This explains why your hair was always so easy to do when I’ve helped with it,” she says. “Your hair’s natural state isn’t something you should be punished for. It’s not yours or Serena’s fault.”

Maybe she’s right, but there’s no way to change how father reacted to it. “In any case, the spell helped a lot with not having so many punishments.”

We continue trading ideas and working together on spells. It’s hard, but easier than when I was trying to do things all on my own.

“
Any other secret spells you’ve been keeping from me?” Waverly asks.

“
There is one bigger thing left. I always spelled my needle to do a good job sewing for me.”

She laughs. “You actually aren’t the best seamstress in your household?”

I snort. “Not hardly. I can’t sew a stitch without it going crooked or making knots. Once I discovered how to spell my needle to make perfect stitches, even when I didn’t know how, things got easier. I was left alone a lot more. Sometimes literally alone, by myself, but usually with the others. They were around but wouldn’t really pay attention to me because they knew I was working. It was a good trick.”

“
I wish I would have thought of something so clever.”

“
Weren’t you just attempting to convince me to be nicer to myself? It’s the same for you. Things are different here. You get good at learning things when beatings and hexes are doled out if there’s nothing done to circumvent them. Besides, you are clever. You helped with Serena’s ball.”

“
But those are things that are taught in Envado. I didn’t learn any of them on my own,” she says. “In fact, how did you manage to learn to do magic on your own? Most are trained from when we’re small. Occasionally, someone with magic will come along that doesn’t use it. They don't figure it out on their own and need training. How did you?”

I explain the same thing I told Lukas, but my thoughts aren’t on the telling. They’re stuck on how two different magic users have been surprised by my teaching myself magic. It’s always seemed to me that it was a product of my circumstances, except then Serena would have learned, too. She would have done even better than me, even if they say I have more magic in my blood than her. Yet, she didn’t. As far as I know, there’s not been another girl I know that has. What gave me the strength and curiosity to learn?

Chapter Eighteen

A knock on the front door echoes down the hall, followed by the creak of it opening and Lukas calling out, “May we come in?”

We?

“
We’re in the sitting room,” I call back.

There’s the sound of two footsteps, one nimble and one heavier as I set down my plate, which is sadly bare of cookies. Lukas appears with a warlock behind him. A very tall warlock, who looks familiar. Where have I seen him?

Waverly suddenly busies herself arranging our now-empty plates on the tray.

“
Waverly,” the man says.

Her hand hovers over the tray, and I wonder who this man is to make her withdraw. She turns to him, a very controlled, neutral expression on her face. “Chadwick.” That’s who he is! Zade’s manservant. “Have you been sent to force me back to Zade’s?”

He looks almost… sad? “I’ve been sent to help with keeping you both safe.”

Sent? That doesn’t sound very reassuring. The way he waits, his gaze lingering on her, I keep expecting her to reply. But there’s nothing from her so I do. “That’s kind of you. Thank you so much. I wish I wasn't causing such a burden for everyone,” so incredibly much, “but unfortunately I am, and more help would be fantastic.”

“You will never be a burden.”

And though his reply seems directed at me, and I believe he will protect me, I know he means Waverly. The deep, down-trodden cast to his gaze as he tries, and fails, not to stare at her twists in my chest. It would be wonderful to have someone look at me with that much emotion, though maybe in a more positive light and not such a depressed one. How I wish I knew what Waverly is thinking right now.

***

After Waverly and I fed those helping watch over us, which they insisted on doing in shifts so there was always someone outside, we take up residence in my room. Feeding them was a quiet affair, not like the ruckus that usually comes with a room full of warlocks.

Waverly was most helpful getting them meals, but it was hard to miss how blatantly she walked the long way around the room instead of going the short route by him. She seemed to not notice when he needed something, though she was extra attentive to the other warlocks. They probably didn’t know what, exactly, is going on with Waverly and Chadwick; I don’t even know what is happening between them, yet the men still seemed to sense the tension.

Except Chadwick and Lukas. They never came in for dinner. Conrad said they weren’t hungry, but it’s the first time Lukas has turned down food of any kind. Presumably, he’s helping Chadwick with something. And I want to help Waverly; only I’m not sure exactly how to go about it.

Waverly asks, “Can I brush your hair?”

It’s not a direct way to help her but should be a good opening for conversation. “If you like.”

She picks up the brush and runs it though my hair. The strokes yank in a way that stings my eyes instead of her usual gentle care. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine.”

The brush catches on a particularity big knot, and she tugs hard enough that I bite my lower lip to keep from calling out.

Once I’ve recovered enough to speak without giving away how much it hurts, I say, “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about? You haven’t been yourself since Chadwick arrived.”

She throws the brush on the nightstand and flops down on my bed. Thank my earrings.

“It is Chadwick then.”

I silently wait for her to speak. It’s a tactic Serena uses. Even if it seems to get results for her, it’s difficult to stay silent for long. Questions leap to my mind with such persistence, it’s almost impossible to not say something, anything. Just when I’m about to explode, she says, “We knew each other in Envado.”

Huh. Serena’s tactic did work. Though sharing thoughts about how I remember Chadwick from living at Zade’s would have been much easier. “I gathered something along those lines. Did something happen?”

“
Nothing happened. That’s the problem.”

That’s as clear as my hair is straight. “What exactly didn’t happen?”

She puts her hand over both her eyes. “We grew up together. He was always hanging around and I often didn’t have a girlfriend to spend time with, so I would follow him around. When we grew older, everyone assumed we would marry, but then he came here with Zade and didn’t come back when the tournament ended. It was strange for a while, but by the time I decided to join them, I hadn’t thought much about it. Once here, things were, well, I don’t know, things were just… stiff. Weird. So I’ve done the sensible thing. Avoided him.”

“
You’ve been avoiding Chadwick for over a year?”

“
It seemed like the best option.”

“
But do you even like him?”

She sighs. “That’s the worst part. I don’t know.” She looks forlorn, hands twisting together, eyes cast downward. Nothing like the Waverly I’ve known. “He’s wonderful, but there’s just nothing igniting between us. I don’t know what love is supposed to feel like, but it seems like there should be more… something. But still, everyone expects it of us.”

She does have expectations then, only different from the ones here. Not punishable with beatings or hexes, but not meeting expectations is clearly still difficult for her.

“
It’s hard when people expect something from you, and you don’t know if it’s what you want or not.” It’s my whole life. Until now. I’m finally doing what I want, and it feels so right. “I think you should keep following your feelings and not what others expect.”

“
Maybe you’re right.”

“
And maybe we can talk about it again the next time it bothers you without having you torment my hair.”

She laughs. “No brushing when I’m upset.”

“What if I brush your hair out for the night, and you can talk about what you want, whether it’s about Chadwick or something unrelated?”

“
That sounds nice.”

So we reverse roles, and as I run the brush through her blond hair, it’s surprising how much it feels like I’m with one of my sisters.

Chapter Nineteen

Lukas is across from me, a thumb hooked in his right trouser pocket as we get ready to practice. My heart feels bright and melty, like a golden spell that’s gone all soft and gooey. What’s wrong with me? I can’t allow myself to let my feelings for him cloud my learning.

He motions to the room, one I’ve never been in until now. “This should be a good place to practice.”

I ignore the gooey feeling inside, look around the tiny room, and focus on the task before us. “There’s a lot of stuff that could be hit or broken.”

“
Don’t worry. Nothing in here matters. Thomas didn’t have any other family left to care about it and Zade said he didn’t need any of it.”

That makes more sense. It’s tight, crammed with all sorts of items—books, medals, trophies, bags, blankets, pillows, and many other seemingly random things. There are a few pieces of jewelry scattered about, but none worth more than a passing glance.

“Still, I’d hate to have to clean up if I accidentally break something.”

“
It’d give you a good reason to practice a cleaning spell.”

I stick my tongue out at him. The gesture is even easier and more natural than it looked when he previously did the same.

He chuckles. “I knew you were a quick learner.”

“
At least a clean-up spell would have practical use.”

“
All too true,” he admits. “Let’s see if you can make this a little easier for us. Focus on the room. The air in it, the space contained in it. The things it holds.”

I scoff. “We just got done talking about how much stuff is in here. How am I supposed to focus on all of it?”

“Not focusing on all of it individually. All of it as a whole. How it fits in the room.”

“
It doesn’t fit.”