Felix didn’t say anything. He took hold of Asta’s hand, pulling her arm forward. According to their agreement, Asta should be halfway down the bench by now. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give in to her desires for once. Only the thought of recruiters watching her race in the second-year expo, a contract, then Silverscale, held her back.
Felix pinned her hand between his knees and busied himself with the magic. The words he spoke were too quiet to hear, but the illusion crackled and grew in response. The incantation activated the magic, but it was an intense internal focus, a magical charge generated within the magician himself, that fueled the illusion. Felix had taught himself how to hold this magic from a book when he was very little, years before he met Asta.
The illusion was now a tangle of glowing cord, somewhat like the one he had tied to Carmine when he’d tracked Asta to the mountain on the day of her eighteenth birthday almost a year ago, but this one was nearly as thick as the lead rope for Carmine’s halter. With deft fingers, Felix loosened one end of the cord and began to fasten it around Asta’s wrist. His light touch on her hand sent shivers up her arm.
‘What are you doing?’ she said in a low voice.
He let go of her hand. ‘Sit back,’ he ordered.
She did. The light from the admin building was behind him, and a shadow covered his face, but she could feel his eyes on her.
‘Is this okay?’ he asked.
‘I have no idea what “this” is, but I guess.’
Felix tugged on his end of the cord, and it pulled at Asta’s wrist. Asta gasped.
‘Whoa! How did you do that?’ How many millions of times had he bored her to tears telling her how magic is perception, mere sensation, nothing more? But the magic string had just pulled at her. Her hand had moved. ‘How did you make it. . . solid?’
Felix laughed. ‘You let me,’ he said.
‘I did not! I was just sitting here.’
‘It uses the connection between people. It’s like a trust fall, but inside your brain. The point is, it wouldn’t work with just anyone.’
Asta ran her fingers over the knot, but all she felt was the gentle buzz of magic. It didn’t even have substance enough for her to untie it. She pulled her arm to test the cord, but it stretched as if nothing held it on the other side but an idea.
‘Why can’t I do it?’
‘Making it two-way is a whole thing,’ Felix sighed. ‘I’m still working on it.’
‘What if Ididn’ttrust you?’ Asta asked. ‘What if I didn’t want you to pull on me?’
‘Let’s see,’ Felix said, and he yanked on the cord. It pulled at Asta’s arm, drawing her toward him. ‘No good. Stop wanting it.’ Could he feel through the magic howmuchshe wanted him to reel her in and put his arms around her?
‘I’m trying,’ Asta whined.
‘Hm,’ Felix said, and she could hear a smile in his voice. ‘This is great. I think I’m going to keep this tied to you. Should come in handy for the race next week.’
‘Cheater! Don’t you dare!’
Felix tugged the cord. This time, it stretched like a string of taffy. The knot loosened and dropped from Asta’s wrist. Felix laughed. ‘You’re so easy.’
Asta ran her fingertips over the magic cord where it lay on the bench. ‘This is amazing, Felix. Where did you learn this?’
Felix was quiet for a moment. ‘I designed it,’ he said. Asta was struck by the weight of his voice, as if the words hung thick in his throat. He began to wind the cord again.
‘Well, it’s a freaking miracle,’ Asta said. ‘Seriously. I’ve never seen anything like this. You could probably get rich off it. Or like, extra rich.’
Felix let the illusion shrink and fade, the last glimmers of its light illuminating a rather sad look on his face. Asta tried to ask more about the illusion, but Felix changed the subject.
The semester would be over soon. They would get a few weeks of summer break before the second-year classes started. Maybe they could go up to the mountain again to try to see the wild dragons. It was going to be so nice, they told each other, doing nothing for whole days at a time, just watching TV and eating trash. They teased each other about who would take the lead in next year’s rankings.
Neither of them said it, but the thought hung in the air between them: this time next year, it would almost be graduation day.
17
It was the last week of classes. Asta only had the course design presentation left, and then she could focus on the big race tomorrow morning that would determine the final standings of the year.
