“Hello, ladies,” he said. “Great to see you again.” He smiled down at Aileen, who giggled dramatically.
Confused by Aileen’s girly reaction, I couldn’t help but frown as I studied him. With a broad nose to match his wide face, a chin that was trying to hide from the world, and a hairline that was running from the chin, he wasn’t anything special. But even Callie had sparkles in her eyes, relishing his presence. Others in the room, girls and guys alike, were glancing his way fervently, like he was some sort of celebrity.
What was I missing? Did mages truly value power this much?
“And you must be Penelope Bristol,” John said, his smile just a little sly.
“Yes. Hello.” I stuck out my hand, and he took it gently, his palm smooth and soft, the opposite of Emery’s.
I gritted my teeth and glanced away, pushing the thought from my head. I couldn’t very well get over him if I kept mentally bringing him up. I spied Veronica in the corner talking to some older man with long white hair encircling a shiny bald spot on the top of his head. She glanced over and saw me before raising her eyebrows, asking if I needed saving.
Hold that thought, Veronica.
“You’re a natural, did I hear that right?” John asked, bending a little to recapture my gaze.
“That’s what they tell me.” I shrugged. “I’m new to all this.”
“So you don’t really know if you have enough power to be a natural?”
“She doesn’t, but I do,” Callie said, stepping closer. “She kept pace with the Rogue Natural. He was the one who first declared her a natural. He would know.”
“Or maybe he was just telling a beautiful woman what she wanted to hear.” John’s smile was kind, but his tone made me want to punch him.
“I’m not interested in defining my power level,” I said, ready to scooch away. “I just want to learn how my magic works, then get better at it.”
“A mage who doesn’t want to reap the rewards of being the best in the business?” John rolled back onto his heels and looked around the room incredulously. Everyone within earshot chuckled, sharing the joke. Callie’s face reddened, and I couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment for me, or anger at his joke.
As usual tonight, I’d missed the punch line.
“I assume you don’t mean rewards as in being able to do more advanced spells,” I said, “since my outlook would have no bearing on that. So what type of rewards would I get just by being a natural?”
He looked around the room again (his audience) like I was daft. “You’d be the best in the room, for one.” He lifted his eyebrows at Aileen, who giggled like a schoolgirl while nodding knowingly. “You’re new to all this, but eventually you’ll come to realize the importance of respect. Position. Authority.”
“I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you before,” I said without thinking, connecting the dots. “You can’t be the best in the room when Callie and Dizzy are present.”
Shocked silence fell over the room. John’s eyes narrowed and his face flushed, anger brewing below the surface. I’d stripped away his varnish.
This was the wrong way to make allies. I knew I’d be terrible at this.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but he was already talking.
“That problem will be solved when I find someone worthy to be my dual-mage partner,” he said in a low tone, the challenge to Callie clear.
She bristled and squared off with him. Prickles of anticipation rolled across my skin. The room held its breath.
I looked for magic to rise around us, weaving into a spell. I waited for the intent of the spell to give its purpose away.
That failing, I looked for a capsule dug out of a pocket. Something.
The two mages stared at each other. Soft jazz played in the background.
And then it occurred to me.
They couldn’t do a danged thing. Neither had a satchel (no one did—there must’ve been a rule against it at a gathering), and I was sure neither could fight physically. For one, Callie was too old. But also, John’s hands were too thin and his body too gangly. He probably hadn’t so much as slapped a younger sibling. They weren’t naturals, so they couldn’t weave spells from the elements around them like Emery and I could. They were at a standstill, which meant the two powerful mages had to be content with a hard-faced stare-down.
Laughter bubbled up at the absurdity of it all. Of the swagger and wealth on display tonight. Of the ladies’ fawning over the frankly unimpressive John simply because he was powerful…under the right circumstances.
We could hardly hope the circumstances would be “right” when the Mages’ Guild rolled through with their army of trained and attack-ready mages. We’d all be sitting ducks, completely vulnerable.
Tears came to my eyes, and I couldn’t be sure if I was crying from fear or from the ludicrousness of the situation. Veronica was by my side in a moment, her hand on my arm.
“Here, look.” I shook out of Veronica’s grasp and pulled elements—as Emery had always called them—from around the room. Magic rose from the dirt in the potted plant, the cotton in Aileen’s pants, the wool in the rug, and dozens of other sources. Colors and patterns streamed toward me before I organized them in a mass just above my head.
I picked and chose what I needed and wove the strands together in a hasty, somewhat messy sort of weave. It was my version of a spell the Bankses had recently taught me, intended to dazzle or surprise.
“What am I looking at?” John said, his charming facade back in place and his smile light and easy. The humor hadn’t returned to his eyes.
“That’s just it, isn’t it?” I pulled the weave taut. “You can’t see what I’m doing. You can’t see the collection of elements hovering three feet in front of your face.”
The last string pulled into place and I let the spell go. It spun and blossomed before ballooning out. An umbrella of flashing colors suddenly covered the room. Everyone oohed and ahhed, looking up with wide or blinking eyes. After going through colors of the rainbow three times, the umbrella winked out.
Pop!
The sound was jarring. Women screamed. Men jerked. John bent and threw his hands up over his head, dousing himself in his drink.
“Magic should be marveled at and respected,” I said loudly, intending the whole room to hear. No doubt I was making things super awkward again. But I couldn’t help it. These mages, who’d been lucky enough to grow up with magic, were so ensnared in one-upmanship that they’d lost sight of what made magic great. “It’s natural, it’s beautiful, and it exists all around us. It should be revered.” I let the elements I’d collected dissipate back into the environment. “It shouldn’t be used for some sort of ego boost. If you aren’t good enough without magic, then you will never be good enough with it.”
Mary Bell rapped her cane on the ground. “Hear, hear!” she shouted.
“I don’t have as much exuberance as that woman, but I agree,” Veronica said, nodding. Eyebrows rose, and people looked back and forth between Callie and Veronica. John watched her closely as he straightened up.
“Oh…” She pointed at herself. “I’m a nobody. My magic is in my pen. I’m just here for moral support and to make sure my friend doesn’t do anything hasty.”
I turned toward John, but spoke loudly enough for the others to hear me. “I’m not sure what sort of proof you were looking for. Admittedly, Emery doesn’t care about pecking orders. Or sticking around—not that it’s given me a complex or anything. I could very well be less powerful than he said. But I don’t care about being the best. What I do care about is learning as much as possible. If I don’t, the Guild is going to capture me, probably punish me for ruining their compound, and then chain me to their organization. I’m just here to learn. Everything else is a sideshow act.”
I paused for effect, but Veronica gave me a small shake before I could continue to spew word salad.
“You should probably stop while you’re ahead,” she whispered, pulling me away.
She had a fair point, though “ahead” was up for debate.
“I don’t think I belong here,” I murmured as she led me to the kitchen. “I’m clearly not like these people. They all think I’m nuts.”
“Callie and Dizzy don’t think you’re nuts—”
“They think I’m naive, which is bad enough. Even if it’s still mostly true.”
“—and that girl Reagan that broke you out of the broom closet in that old church doesn’t think you’re nuts—”
“That’s because she’s insane.”
“—so I really think you’re overreacting. Look.” She sat me down at the kitchen island and moved to the cabinet before taking out a bottle of tequila. It was a whiskey house, but I hadn’t developed a taste for it. I was just fine with hanging out in Margaritaville. “Had you been trained in all of this from an early age, you’d probably think exactly like they do. It is a learned social structure, and it feels good to be at the top of it. But because you’ve never fit into any social structure…at least not near the top, or in the middle…or kind of even at the bottom—”