Morgan lifts a shoulder. “I mean, maybe. Or maybe caught that flu that’s going around and the magic is incidental. It really depends on the nature of the spell.”
I feel the tiniest flutter of relief at Morgan’s words—please, God, let it be the flu, I pray silently, a very strange thing to ask for. “But it’ll go away?”
Morgan’s silent a long moment. “It…might.” She sighs. “Again, depends on the nature of the spell. If it’s a hex, then that sucks, but those fade with time. Maybe some lingering effects, but nothing debilitating. Like…scar tissue, kind of.”
“And if it’s not a hex?”
“Like if it’s some kind of curse, you mean?”
I nod. Morgan suddenly isn’t meeting my eyes.
“Then it’ll keep getting worse. Unless it gets broken.”
“Okay, so?” I say, feeling a little frantic. “How do we break it? What’s that take?”
“Gwenna…” Morgan looks at me again, and when she does, her gaze is soft, almost pitying.
The sinking feeling inside me starts to feel like a black hole, and my throat gets thick, thinking of the very kind, very sweet boy with the bright blue eyes who does not deserve to fade away like this.
“Just tell me,” I say. “Please. It’s possible, right?”
Morgan sighs a long sigh. “I mean, yes. Peopledobreak them, but it’s not exactly commonplace. It’s like…like a quadriplegic suddenly walking again, or beating stage 4 cancer. Itcanhappen, but practically speaking, it just…doesn’t. Not that often.” She puts two fingers to her temple and rubs, like she’strying to massage her thoughts into order. “You have to find out what the curseis,for starters. The exact conditions that spell out what it is and what it makes happen, inpreciselanguage. A curse’s effects and its cure are always intertwined—otherwise, it won’t stick. Then you have to do whatever the curse obliges.”
“So another riddle,” I say, trying not to let despair creep into my voice.
“No offense, but I can kind of see why Kai hates magic so much,” I mutter.
Morgan pats my hand, snorting softly. “Yeah, well. Ask me, his isn’t exactly a reasoned opinion.”
“Meaning what?” I frown, considering. “WhydoesKai hate magic so much?”
"You mean besides being a contrarian bastard?" Morgan shakes her head. "I don't know. I think... he sees, and not incorrectly, maybe, that it's addicting or overpowering, uncontrollable in a way that’s…” She drums her fingers on the outside of her glass, her blush-colored nails tink-tinking against the surface. “A little, you know. Too close to home.”
I tip my head, not quite following.
Morgan’s expression shifts, and she lowers her voice. “Kai’s mom? She overdosed. That’s…basically when Luther took him in. After that.” She presses her lips together. “Apparently he’d been trying to do CPR for hours when they found her.”
The room tilts.
Goddammit. Goddammit.
The night at the lake. Kai's voice. Kai's hands on my chest, pressing, counting. Kai's face when I opened my eyes—wrecked, wild.
I thought he was just scared. Adrenaline.
I didn’t…
My eyes burn. I blink it away, hard.
"I didn't know," I say out loud. My voice sounds strange.
"Yeah, well. He doesn't exactly advertise it.” Morgan sips her beer again. “And I don’t begrudge anyone their trauma, obviously. But it’s honestly a little reductive to say magic is addicting. Now, obviously, itcanhave corrupting effects, but…”
She trails off as her eyes flick to the photograph on the wall.
To the dark-haired, sharp-eyed girl.
"Is that what happened?" I ask. "To Vivian? Like an overdose?”
