Between that and your outburst of magic, I’m sure a bit of short-term memory loss is expected.”
“Wait—my outburst of magic?” She’s got to be kidding me.
I look down at myself, as if something about me will have outwardly changed to show that I do, in fact, have magic. I still look like me, just in a hospital gown with some bruises.
Aurora nods. “You let out a sonic boom. It put two men in the hospital and resulted in thousands of dollars worth of property damage… it was one of the strongest bursts of magic we’ve seen in years. We naturally assumed you had to have been hiding your powers from us and training yourself in secret in order to let out such a strong blast. But if you’re serious about not knowing…”
“Are you kidding me?” I can’t believe this. Anger coils in my gut like a snake. “My mom was hugely powerful. My dad is too. You think I liked being a disappointment because I didn’t have any magic like they did? You think I would’ve let my sister go off to a magical training academy alone if I had magic? Why the hell would I hide it? When my mom died, we lost all connection with the magical community. Nobody wanted us because we weren’t like them. Didn’t matter that we’d grown up with it, spent all our lives around it—all they cared about was whether we could light a candle by snapping our fingers or whatever. You think that was fun? That we lived our lives on the outside of everything just for shits and giggles?”
Aurora waits placidly as I explode at her. When I run out of words, she hesitates for a moment to see if I’ll continue. Then she speaks calmly. “I see. Well, you may not have been aware of it before, but our test results indicate that you have Unpredictable magic.”
My brows draw together as her words take the self-righteous wind out of my sails. “I’m sorry, what?”
I’ve never even heard of that, but like I said, I’m a little behind on the ins and outs of the magical community.
“Unpredictable magic is rare,” Aurora explains. “It can’t be categorized and can show up in the form of various powers. Your sister has water elemental magic, if I remember correctly? That means she’s limited in what her magic can do. It has to deal with water. We can help train her and predict what her magic’s limitations and capabilities are because of that. But with you… we simply don’t know. It makes for an interesting and difficult training process.”
She pauses, maybe to give me a chance to speak. But my jaw is hanging open, and I have no idea what to say.
“That would explain why your magic took so long to spark,” she continues after a beat. “Unpredictable magic takes a long time to build and take shape within a person due to its lack of structure, so it usually comes out in the early- to mid-twenties rather than in the teen years.”
“What does… what does that mean for me?” I indicate the cuff with a jerk of my chin. “Are you going to take me to magical prison?”
“Goodness, no.” Aurora looks appalled at the thought. I half expect her to clutch at some pearls. “We’ll send you to an academy that specializes in training people with Unpredictable magic.”
“Do I get a choice in the matter?” I ask, suspicious.
Aurora opens her mouth, pauses, then closes it. “I’m… well.” She presses her lips together, her expression firming. “No. Not really.”
Shit.
Chapter 7
“Why can’t I choose not to go?” I demand, my fight or flight instinct immediately kicking in.
What kind of bullshit is this? I should be allowed to decide what kind of life I want to lead.
Aurora holds my gaze steadily, not even bothering to look guilty. It makes me respect her a little more, because the last thing I want is fake sympathy—but it also makes me want to punch her in the face.
It’s probably a good thing I’m handcuffed.
“We can’t allow you to leave your magic untrained,” Aurora explains. “It’s not just that you’re powerful, it’s that you’re Unpredictable. Without the proper guidance and discipline, you’ll have no way of being able to stop yourself from hurting someone again like you did last night.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. It was self-defense!”
I can’t quite remember all the details of the previous night, but as I say the words, I know they’re true. I’ve never been