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“That!” She stabs two fingers in the air toward me and turns to her students. “That right there is what we call reactionary magic. Or instinctive self-defense. Once you learn the spell and have it ingrained in your soul, your mind will produce the magic when you’re in danger, even if you panic. Does anyone know why?”
A gangly young man with thick-framed glasses raises his hand. “Because ley line magic wants to survive?”
“Yes!” She pumps her arm. “Gold star for Hugo!”
Cheeks flushing, he pulls back his broad shoulders with pride.
Savannah’s hands move to her trim hips, and she stands with her feet shoulder-width apart as she addresses the class. “Ley line magic wants to be used, and for that to happen, its wielder must stay alive. This means that the more spells you learn, the bigger your arsenal will be when it counts.”
Excited murmurs go through the group.
She grins. “Now, who’s up for throwing bombs at Mr. Boru?”
A mousy young girl waves her arm in the air.
Savannah beckons her forward. “Come on up, Charity!”
She stands and straightens her oversized, blue sweater with orange cats frolicking across it. Her riotous brown hair lays in two thick plaits on either side of her head, and her stick-thin legs don’t look strong enough to lift her heavy combat boots as she walks into the arena.
This is what I love about magic. Anywhere else, Charity would be overlooked as a potential fighter, but ley lines don’t care about the vessel’s athleticism. If Charity wants to do battle magic, the only thing that will hold her back is her ability to learn.
Charity stops across from me with a nervous expression.
I smile gently. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Savannah steps up, her tall, muscular body like a brick wall behind the slender girl. “Remember what we practiced. You’ve got this.”
Charity holds her palms a foot apart in front of her chest, and her nose scrunches with concentration. Slowly, orange sparklers build.
“That’s right,” Savannah encourages. “Keep going. You need a big ball of those if you want to defeat Mr. Boru.”
The sparklers continue to gather, popping into existence and swarming like fireflies caught within an invisible bubble.
Savannah cups her hands as if she’s the one building the magic. “Just a little more.”
Charity bites her lip, and the sparklers double.
“Fantastic.” Savannah points her arm at me. “Now, attack!”
Charity pushes the sparklers away from herself, her hazel eyes fixing on my chest. It wobbles a little as it flies toward me at a speed I can dodge with ease.
But where would be the fun in that?
I stand my ground, draw ley line power from my reservoir, and reach out. The sparkler ball hits the tip of my finger, and my power surges through it, bursting it apart.
Harmless orange sparklers fly around the room, and the other kids duck and laugh as they fizzle out.
Savannah clasps Charity’s shoulders. “That’s the most you’ve generated to date! With more practice, you’ll continue to get faster, and each of those sparklers will be a bomb!”
The young girl grins and hurries back to her seat.
This is why I took Savannah on as a teacher. She’s unconventional, but her enthusiasm for everything boosts the students’ confidence, and she shows an endless amount of patience with them.
Savannah surveys the class. “How about we see what you can do, Hugo?”
The boy jumps to his feet and comes forward. “I’ve been practicing.”
Savannah nods. “Let’s see it.”
