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“And just like real MSG, it leaves you with a big headache afterwards,” I said glumly. “That was the effect it had on me, anyway.”
“You can’t let those witches with a capital B treat you like this!” Avery exclaimed. “You have to fight back, Megan! I can teach you some defensive spells to start with, so they can’t mess with you again. And then we can work on some attack magic—nothing too obvious of course, since using magic on another student is technically against the Academy’s rules. But if you’re subtle enough—”
“I really appreciate the offer,” I said, holding up a hand to stop him. “But I’m afraid you won’t be able to teach me any spells. I’m a Null—I mean, I really, truly am. I got conclusive proof of it today during my Elementary Casting class.”
“Oh no—what happened?” Kaitlyn asked sympathetically. “Couldn’t you, uh, cast?”
“Not even a little,” I said grimly. “Ms. Yasmeen was teaching us to call the Circle and I was the only one in the entire class who couldn’t even light a candle with magic.” I shook my head. “I just don’t think I have any in me.”
“But you’re a Latimer,” Avery protested. “Are you telling us you’ve never done a single bit of magic before? Not even by accident?”
For a moment the image of my mom in her hospital bed, her face sweating and gray with pain surfaced in my mind. I remembered the sharp bite of the razor against my flesh and the feeling of her agony pouring into me…and the way she had been at peace and pain-free for a little while afterwards.
But no—that couldn’t be right, could it? After all, magic seemed to be all about manifesting things—making things appear or disappear or doing things by magical means instead of physical. I hadn’t heard anything yet about pain transference and I had never convinced myself completely that I really was the reason my mom had stopped having pain after I cut myself. Maybe it was just the medicines they were giving her at the hospital kicking in at odd times.
Or maybe it really was you, whispered a little voice in my head. But it felt dangerous to talk about—felt like something I ought to keep to myself. After all, I liked Avery and Emma and Kaitlyn immensely and I already felt like I belonged with them in a way I never had with any other group of friends. But still…I had only just met them that day. We hadn’t even known each other twenty-four hours yet.
I decided to keep what may or may not have happened with my mom to myself…at least for now.
“No,” I said. “I guess I’m just not a magical person. I don’t have that, uh, core of magic inside me that Ms. Yasmeen was talking about.”
“But I think you do.” Avery left his overstuffed chair and came to sit beside me on the couch. “Here—give me your hand,” he ordered, a bit bossily, holding out his own.
I put my hand in his reluctantly and waited to feel something—anything at all.
Avery held my hand for a long time, frowning before he finally let me go.
“Well?” Emma demanded, leaning forward.
“Did you feel any magic in her?” Kaitlyn asked.
“It’s hard to say…” he said slowly. “Not really obvious, out-there magic. But she doesn’t feel like a Null or a Norm, either.”
“You’re just trying to be nice,” I said, sighing. “I just don’t have it and that’s that.”
He frowned at me. “Megan, you’re a Latimer.”
“You keep saying that,” I protested. “But I don’t even know what it means!”
“It means you’re a member of one of the first families—that you can trace your lineage back to one of the Elder Sisters. To the Elder Sister,” he told me. “Don’t you know that in her time, your ancestress, Corinne Latimer was the most powerful witch in the entire country? Maybe in the entire world?”
I shook my head.
“Honestly, I don’t know much of anything about my mom’s family. She once told me she had a falling out with them back when she was in college and that was why she moved to Seattle to get away from them. We didn’t even come back to Florida to go to my grandmother’s funeral.” I sighed. “I think the only person we kept in touch with on her side was my Aunt Dellie, who was her older sister. She’s who I live with now since my mom…” I swallowed hard. “Since she passed two years ago and my dad decided he had better things to do than be a single parent.”
“I’m so sorry, Megan,” Kaitlyn said quietly. “That’s really tough.”
I shrugged. “I survived. But the point is, I don’t know much about my mom’s family. Also, if all the Latimer witches are so powerful, then what happened to my Aunt Dellie? I mean, I love her and she was willing to take me in when my Dad opted out of the whole fatherhood thing, but she’s, uh, kind of kooky, you know? I mean, she teaches belly-dancing and herb lore and she wears these muumuus with kittens printed all over them and well…she strikes me as more of a free-spirited hippie love child than a great and powerful witch.”
