fright. My hair tends to gain volume when I sweat, and I was definitely sweating tonight. It looks like a dark bush around my head. My eyes are red with circles under them. At least brown eyes go with everything, right?
I punch in the code, yank open the door, and stumble in, then take the stairs. The elevator’s always on the fritz, and I don’t want to risk it—there’s a family on the fourth floor with fifteen-year-old triplets who are all enchanters, and they did something with their magic in that elevator a month ago. Ever since then, it’s been wonky. I don’t want to be the unlucky person stuck in it when it spontaneously combusts or fills with rocks or something.
When I reach our apartment door and fumble the key into the lock, I’m surprised to hear noises on the other end.
The hair stands up on the back of my neck. I sense… magic?
I might not have magic myself, but when you grow up around it, you get a feel for it. Just like moms have a sixth sense for when a kid, any kid, is about to run with scissors. I open the door, my keys clenched between my fisted fingers like tiny daggers, ready to kick the shit out of whatever burglar—
“Elliot!”
Maddy’s voice rings out from the kitchen. She sounds… nervous, but not scared. Excited, maybe. Okay, so, not a burglar.
I close the front door behind me, drop my purse and keys, kick off my shoes—thank God, finally—and walk into the kitchen. Then I stop dead.
Holy shit.
Maddy’s standing in the middle of the small galley kitchen, her hands out and fingers splayed. She’s got dark hair like me but with Dad’s blue eyes and Mom’s button nose. She’s cute as hell.
But what’s stopping me in my tracks isn’t the fact that my sister’s adorable.
It’s the snake of water flowing up out of the sink and around the room, like a ribbon my sister is somehow twirling.
“I have it!” Maddy cries out. Her face splits into a wide smile. “Ellie, I have magic!”
Maddy’s the only one allowed to get away with calling me Ellie.
“You—you sure do!” I blurt, finally getting my feet to move forward again, even as my mind starts racing.
Holy shit. This is huge. We have to make arrangements, change our whole plan. She can’t go to a regular non-magical school now. But all the magic academies will be filled up this close to the start of the school year, won’t they? I’ll have to make some phone calls in the morning, do some research, see who can take her as a last-minute slot.
Something of my racing thoughts must show on my face, because Maddy falters. “Aren’t you excited?” she asks, her voice small.
I smile. “Of course I’m excited! This is amazing! Look at you go!”
Maddy screws up her face in concentration, moving her hands through the air. The ribbon of water slowly retreats back into the sink.
Whew. Thank God for that. I didn’t want to end my evening mopping up the kitchen. And of course she’s already doing amazingly well with control. Maddy’s a smart kid, and super motivated; she picks shit up fast. A swell of pride washes over me, and I grin at her like an idiot.
“I looked it up!” my little sis crows, rushing over to me and taking my hands. I let her spin me around in a goofy little dance. “I’m an elemental mage! Water, specifically.”
“You don’t say.”
“I was just doing the dishes after dinner, and I was pissed at Dad because… well, you know. And next thing I knew—water was spraying everywhere! And it wouldn’t stop until I thought really hard and calmed myself down, and then the water calmed down too.”
That sounds about right. Strong emotional response plus hormones equals a jump-start to spark your magic.
I’ve heard tons of stories about people whose magic sparked while they were having sex for the first time. I might be annoyed at my own lack of magic, but I’m damn grateful that I haven’t had to deal with that, at least. Talk about embarrassing.
Maddy still looks a little nervous, like she’s worried that I’m going to be jealous of her or upset. And I mean… I am a little sad. The magical schools are all farther away from Portland than the regular one she was planning to attend, so I won’t get to see her as much. It’ll be lonely without her. But that’s no reason for me to pull her