me to come. I got in my car and drove straight here.”
“This morning?” Zoë asks. “But all of that stuff just happened not even an hour ago.”
She turns around in search of Dr. Milton but he is already safely inside of the observation area behind a mirror glass window.
“Miss Owens, please come in and take your seat,” Dr. Milton instructs me.
I reluctantly do as he asks, knowing there is no point in arguing. A security guard closes the door and presses a button, activating the speaker system in the room. Zoë’s voice rings out as clear as if we were standing right next to her.
“I don’t understand—what is this little room supposed to do to protect us against Zoë’s out of control magic?”
“The room has had a protection spell placed on it. No magic can penetrate it.”
“What about the security guards out there? Is it safe for them?”
“Miss Owens, they are well aware of the risks involved in their jobs. They have all made the choice to take on this job of their own free will.”
I turn my attention back to Zoë and Eliza. I know Zoë wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt due to her inexperience and worry just a little more for her.
“What exactly are you going to do to teach me how to control my powers?” she asks Eliza.
“We don’t have a lot of time, so unfortunately I can’t teach you everything you need to know. But for starters, I’m going to make you very angry and then teach you how to harness your anger. We don’t want you killing someone out there, now do we?”
“No. Not so much.”
“So have you read the book I gave you yet?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then protecting yourself from what I’m about to do to you shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Wait—what?”
Eliza takes a few steps away from Zoë before turning around and throwing her arms out in front of her. Her fingers spread apart, tips pointed directly at Zoë. Her face scrunches tightly with anger and concentration. Pale blue light shoots from her hands and lands on Zoë’s body. The connection hangs in the air like lightning bolts flowing from one sister to the other.
Zoë falls to her knees, a low grimace escaping her lips. “Come on, Zoë. Fight through it. This is basic stuff. If you can’t beat this, you don’t stand a chance,” Eliza shouts through the rippling effect of her spell.
Eliza turns her left hand, further crippling Zoë, whose heavy panting is easily audible through the speakers. I rise to my feet and walk to the one-way window, pressing my hands firmly onto the glass. “Come on, Zoë,” I whisper to myself.
A warm yellow light slowly emerges from Zoë’s skin and surrounds her in a protective bubble. Eliza’s bolts of electricity cannot penetrate Zoë’s glow. They reflect off the surface and reverberate back to her, knocking her off her feet.
The yellow glow slowly reabsorbs into Zoë’s body as if she were a sponge soaking up water. Eliza regains her footing. “You might not want to take down your guard yet, little sister.”
Her facial expression intensifies as she begins muttering a spell under her breath. Zoë’s body buckles under the surge of Eliza's spell. She falls to her knees, quivering, as Eliza's powerful force flows through her. Small sparks of light snap around her like angry fireflies as she tries to fight back.
It doesn’t take her as long this time to ward off the spell. She quickly gathers her energy. A warm yellow glow expands from her center outward and diminishes all traces of Eliza's blue toned energy as if the colored light was sucked into a black hole.
“You’re getting better, but I’m going easy on you. I wonder what would happen if I went after Emma?”
“She’s in a spell-proof room surrounded by security. You can’t get to her.”
“Oh, really?” Eliza jeers.
Without looking away from Zoë she lifts her left hand up, aiming it at the group of security guards guarding the observation room. She frenziedly delivers another spell. All of the guards stand at attention and respond simultaneously, “ready for command.”
“Walk to the other side of the room. Don’t react as I break the protection spell on the observation room.”
They walk one behind the other to the far side of the gymnasium and do as she instructs. Holding eye contact with Zoë, she once again lifts her left hand, this time her palm aimed at the observation room.
“Eliza, don’t!”
“Stop me.” Her voice becomes deeper and ominous as she approaches the window. “Selo