Malice (10 page)

We’d taken great care in making sure the path didn’t become overgrown. The last few years, we’d hardly been out here at all.

The trail dumped me out on the bank of the creek. Another trail at the opposite end led to Tristan’s cottage. It was as overgrown as the trail I’d just walked in on.

Now, the few times I came out here I did so because I found it relaxing.

I marched my way through the lush green grass. Once upon a time, the grass was trampled, flat from daily use. Other than this small open area, thick shrubbery circled the edges. The clear water of the stream was flanked by more trees on the other side.

I lowered myself down onto the soft, moss covered log.

Memories of Tristan and I over the years flooded over me. I should’ve kept my feelings to myself. I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him in my life at all. I wondered if there was any way to fix things. I knew there would be no taking back what I’d done. I just wasn’t sure if we could move on from it either.

It wasn’t as if either of us could just pretend it hadn’t happened. I propped my elbows on my knees and placed my forehead in my palms. I lost track of time as I allowed myself to wallow.

When a shiver tore through my body, I realized it was probably time to head back home.

I wished that I’d gone into the house for a jacket when I’d gotten back from The Rush. Levi’s car had been in the driveway. After the talk I’d had with my friends, I felt uncomfortable with the thought of going inside and running into him.

The sun was starting to set and in the short time it had taken me to walk to my favorite childhood spot, the light had begun to fade. Here, amidst the tall pines, the forest already seemed dark and gloomy. The chirping of birds had already started to fade while a symphony of frogs began to take their place.

I stood and I shivered again. My arms broke out in chill bumps and my heart skittered when a branch snapped somewhere within the thick tree line. First one branch, then another.

Then…nothing.

I knew it was probably nothing. It had just seemed so loud out here, so out of place when the only other sound was that of frogs and my sloshing heartbeat. I glanced down at my arms. They were covered in chill bumps. The hair on my arms rose, as if trying to flee to safety. My gaze scoured the trees, unable to see past the thick brush and brambles.

The logical voice in my head told me I was being ridiculous. I’d never been afraid of the dark before. And it wasn’t even truly dark yet. I realized then that it wasn’t the dark that was causing my heart to misbehave.

It was more than that. It was a feeling that came from somewhere deep within. From some ancient, archaic part of my brain that told me I was being watched. Followed. That I wasn’t alone.

I fought the urge to shout out asking if anyone was there. For one thing, if they were, they probably wouldn’t answer. And if they did answer…? I wasn’t sure that would be a good thing either.

Another branch broke, louder this time. It came from off to the side, not directly on the trail. The sound shot through the air and cold, tingly fear slithered down my spine.

Without giving it too much thought, I visualized the flashlight Mom kept in the junk drawer in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure I could manifest it from this far away. A heated tingle pooled in the pit of my stomach. It shot upward, pouring through my hands.

The flashlight appeared and I turned it on as I hurried toward the trail. Inside the tree line, it was dark still. I was grateful for the beam of the flashlight guiding my way. I picked up my pace. Branches whipped painfully against my legs. The sound of branches snapping and breaking filled the air. I told myself that racket was caused by my own hasty exit.

I burst through the opening of the trail, skidding to a near stop as it poured me into my backyard. Lights from The Bella Luna flooded into the darkness, offering comfort and safety. I didn’t slow my pace. Not until I reached the bottom step. With my hand on the railing, I hesitated, listening.

A loud crash from somewhere within the woods sent me flying into the house.

By the next day I’d convinced myself that it was probably an animal that had been lumbering through the woods. It was a perfectly logical explanation. It couldn’t have been a person. No one had a reason to be out there. The woods were on Mom’s property, edging against Cecily’s property.

An errant thought had floated through my mind. Maybe it had been Tristan. I didn’t think he went out there anymore. But I didn’t usually either. So it
could’ve
been him. Though doubtful, it was possible.

Maybe he’d spotted me but wanted to avoid me.

“Look at me!” Magnolia cried. “Samara! Look at me!”

I smiled at the sound of Magnolia’s voice. She was always a good distraction.

I turned away from the kitchen counter with a smile on my face and a knife full of peanut butter in my hand. I’d heard my sister’s school bus pull up. She was typically ready for a snack the moment she walked in the door. The sandwich I’d been putting together was all but forgotten when I caught sight of my sister.

She was riding on Levi’s back. Piggyback style. She waved her hands in the air at me.

“Magnolia!” I cried. “What are you doing? You know you’re not supposed to bother guests!” Then to Levi I said, “I’m so sorry.”

I tossed the knife onto the bare piece of bread and marched toward them, peeling my protesting sister off of his back.

“It’s no problem,” Levi said. “She caught me as I was getting out of my car. She asked for a ride—”

“He was coming into the house anyway,” Magnolia pouted as I dropped her onto her feet.

I scrubbed my hands across my face.

“It’s true. I was coming into the house anyway,” Levi agreed good-naturedly. “And she asked so politely.”

A little squeak of agreement slipped out. I would just bet she asked politely.
Convincingly
, was more like it.

“Well, then,” Levi said when he realized I had nothing more to add, “I suppose I’d best be getting up to my room. I have a bit of work to do before dinner.”

“Bye,” Magnolia sang as she waved at him.

He returned her farewell as I stood there, speechless.

“Magnolia,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low once he was gone. “What were you thinking? Do you know how mad Mom would be? We do not disturb our guests. We especially do not ask them for piggyback rides!”

“But Sammy,” she whimpered.

“But nothing,” I said, hoping to cut her off.

“He wanted to!”

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at her. “He said that?”

“Well no. But he didn’t say that he
didn’t
want to,” she reasoned. She grabbed my hand. “You’re not going to tell Mom. Are you?”

I realized I probably shouldn’t. She was stressed out enough. If Mom knew that Magnolia was using persuasion on the guests…Persuasion! I plucked my hand from hers and crossed my arms safely over my chest.

“Go wash your hands,” I commanded, not daring to look my sister in the eye. I turned back to her sandwich and finished slathering on the peanut butter and jelly. Should I mention it to Mom? Had my thoughts been legitimate thoughts? Or had they been thoughts that sprouted from Magnolia’s desires?

With a sigh I placed her sandwich on the table.

I realized it was a bit of both. I didn’t want to add any more stress to Mom’s life. However, Magnolia had crossed a line. It made me wonder just how often she crossed these lines.

“Guess what happened today,” Magnolia said as she tossed herself into her usual spot.

I sat down next to her. “I have no idea. You better just tell me.” I wasn’t in the mood for guessing games.

“Andrew brought Leo a box of gum drops. I think they might be friends now.” She grinned at me as she took a big bite of her sandwich.

I let her words sink in. From what she’d said the other night, Andrew wasn’t at all interested in being friends with Leo. Why on earth would he bring him gumdrops of all things? Unless…

“Magpie, did you tell Andrew that he should bring Leo gumdrops?”

She shifted around in her seat. “I told Andrew that he needed to be nicer,” she said seriously. “And he listened to me.”

“Oh, I bet he did,” I muttered.

“And I might have told him that Leo really likes gumdrops.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

“But I didn’t make him do it. He just decided to be nice all on his own,” she said as she reached for her milk.

If only that were true.

As I watched her eat her snack I realized that persuasion could definitely have its benefits. It was a relief to see that she’d used it for something good. Even if she didn’t realize it. Now, if only that was all she used it for.

A thought struck me. While on the surface that seemed like a good idea, I wondered if it really was. Sure, it was making the playground a better place. But it was also taking away Andrew’s freewill. That was a conundrum. Just because
I
thought it was good that Andrew was being kind, was it? Or was it messing with the natural order of things?

“Sam?”

I pulled myself out of my mental debate so I could focus my attention on my sister. “Hmmm?”

“My birthday will be here pretty soon. Do you think I’ll have my magic right away?” She blinked her big, brown eyes at me.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sure you’ll be able to do a few things.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if it would be the same for her. Would her intrinsic magic appear, or would her power of persuasion simply intensify? Surely, it wouldn’t be full force at the age of seven. That thought was daunting. But it was hard to say. It was rare that magic, in any form, appeared before our seventh birthdays.

“What’s the difference between manifesting and conjuring? I can never remember.”

This was a question I could easily answer.

“When you manifest you simply make an object move from one place to another. The closer the object is, the easier it is. When you conjure, you are making something out of nothing. It’s less stable. If you’re not very good at it, it’s almost like a mirage.”

She nodded, absorbing my words.

“Like this,” I said. I thought of
The Spider’s Dance,
the book I’d seen up in Magnolia’s room. It appeared on the table.

“That’s manifesting. So is this.” I thought of Mom’s black velvet hat. It had a lacy veil in the front that hung over the eyes and a small, black feather on the side. It appeared on Magnolia’s head. She let out a delighted shriek as her hand reached up to pat it. She pulled it off and I used my magic to send it back to Mom’s room.

No matter how many times she’d seen someone use their magic before, she always acted like it was the first time. I thought it had something to do with the fact that we showed her things she wasn’t capable of quite yet. I remembered being her age and feeling completely mesmerized.

“When you conjure, is it real?” Magnolia wondered.

“It’s real for the moment,” I told her. “The stronger your magic, the longer you can make it last. Of course, something larger, let’s say, a pony—not that I would ever recommend conjuring that,” I said and Magnolia giggled, “might only last for a moment. If you’re lucky.”

“Can you show me?”

“A pony?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

She giggled and nodded.

“You want a pony in the kitchen?” I teased.

“No, silly. Can we do it outside?”

“Oh, I suppose,” I pretended to grumble.

She jumped up from her chair. To my surprise she remembered to push her chair in and place her dirty dishes in the sink. Then she turned to me with a huge smile on her face. I stopped walking.

Had I really agreed to conjure a pony?

I had.

Had I agreed because I’d wanted to? Or had I agreed because Magnolia made me think I wanted to?

I shook my head. I was pretty sure this ludicrous thought wasn’t my own…but what the heck. The longer I thought about it, the more curious I became. I hadn’t conjured for a long time. I started to wonder if my magic had gotten strong enough to pull off such a silly feat. I decided it couldn’t hurt. And Magnolia would be tickled.

“What’s wrong?” my sister asked. Her smile had slid away, dropping into a concerned frown.

“Nothing.” I forced a smile and reached for her hand. I realized I’d been contemplating it with a frown on my face.

Was this how it was always going to be? When I was with Magnolia, was I always going to second guess if my thoughts were my own? And how much worse was it going to be when she knew what she was doing? When she really applied herself.

The thought was a little bit terrifying.

For now, I decided to try not to think about it.

We pushed our way through the back door. Magnolia tugged me down the stairs. The backyard spread out before us. The swing set and the wrought iron bench that Tristan and I had sat on was straight ahead. I decided not to think about that, either.

I turned to Magnolia. She dropped my hand as she grinned up at me.

“You know, this isn’t an easy thing to do,” I warned her. “I’m not even sure that I can.”

“But you’ll try?”

The desire to try coursed through me. Only this time, I was fairly certain it was my own desire. I’d conjured small things before. It had been draining so it wasn’t something that I did often. Mostly because it seemed pointless. It took a great deal of energy to conjure something. More often than not, it faded quickly. It hardly seemed worth the effort.

But since I hadn’t tried it in a long, long while, I decided it might be fun.

The grass prickled beneath my bare feet. I shook out my hands, my magic already welling up within me. My fingers tingled in anticipation of setting the magic free.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me to conjure a mouse? Or maybe a kitten?” I asked.

She grinned up at me. “
Noooo
. I want to see a pony.”

I decided a pony wasn’t so bad. At least she hadn’t asked for a lion.

“You do know I might not be able to do this, right?”

“You can,” she said decisively.

Her confidence in me was sweet, though completely unfounded. I really didn’t think I’d be able to pull it off.

“Okay,” I said as I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and envisioned a pony. It was black with a shimmering mane and a swishing tail. Granted, it wasn’t very big. I pushed the image to the outer edges of my mind. I felt it mingling with my magic as I concentrated on every detail. The large, chocolate-colored eyes. The soft muzzle. The rough hooves. The coarse, shiny hair on its body. The image froze in my mind for just a moment. Then I pushed it out.

The humming tingle in my fingers burned unpleasantly for a moment. I realized I’d never tried to do something so extreme before. The amount of energy it took was significant. Significant enough to be slightly painful as the huge amount of magic surged through me.

Magnolia let out an excited shriek and I opened my eyes.

Standing near the edge of the tree line was a pony. Just as I’d envisioned. I knew the closer we got, the less perfect it would look. From here, the flaws in my imagery weren’t discernible. It let out a soft, snuffling sound as it shook out its mane.

“You did it Sam!” Magnolia cried. She darted forward, skipping across the lawn.

“And it’s incredible!”

The deep, masculine voice startled me. The image of the pony shimmered and disappeared just as Magnolia reached it. She turned to me with a look of utter disappointment etched across her face.

“Sorry about that,” Levi said. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”

My gaze swung from my sister to our guest. I shrugged. “It’s fine,” I said. I was trying to be polite. It wasn’t fine. I was disappointed that he’d interrupted me. I’d never done anything like that before. I’d wanted to know just how long I could hold it. Apparently, not long at all if I was distracted in the slightest.

“You’re very good at that,” Levi said.

“Thanks,” I replied. I felt a little bit of my annoyance slip away. He seemed truly awed by what I’d done.

“I told you you could do it,” Magnolia sang as she raced back to me.

Levi cast a speculative gaze my way.

“I’ve never done that before,” I said.

“Never?” he asked incredulously.

I shook my head. “I’ve conjured small things.” I didn’t tell him I’d conjured a diamond once. It had vanished in seconds. The first thing I’d ever tried to conjure was a hot fudge sundae. I’d been nine and Mom had told me no ice cream. It had disappeared before I’d been able to take my first bite. It had been so disappointing that I hadn’t bothered much after that.

“It never seemed worth the time,” I admitted.

He motioned vaguely to the side yard. “Well that was definitely worth the time.” He shook his head. “You are seriously telling me that you don’t conjure often?”

“Almost never.”

His gaze slid over me, as if assessing me for the first time. He looked impressed.