Mine to Spell (Mine #2) (30 page)

“I cut my hair.”

“
I can see that.” She gives me the look, the one that says she knows there’s more hiding behind my words.

“
Don’t you ever get tired of not being equal to the warlocks who constantly push us around? I’m sick of it. And then when I try to do something about it, they laugh at me. They think I’m a joke, and really, I am. I almost lost my duel today because my natural instinct is to cower like they trained me to. I can’t take it anymore. I’m tired of being trampled on. Tired of not being able to do magic. Tired of these stupid rules that keep us exactly where they want us to be.

“
Zade said people were talking about me even though I did poorly, and it sparked hope inside me. Hope that I can be that person they need me to be. The person I want to be.”

“
So you cut your hair?”

Her words after my tirade seem a little silly. “Well… yes.”

She skirts through the pile of hair and wraps her arms around me. “You can be that person. You already are. You’ve already changed so much, showed us all so much. I should have realized what was going on. I’m sorry I don’t understand better.”

“
I’ve always been alone in this.”

She hugs me tighter. “Not anymore.”

I finally give in to her words and comfort, and let my emotions show. She continues hugging me as I cry all over the shoulder of her dress. It’s true. I’m not alone any more. Serena and Bethany were watching from the sidelines today. Watching and supporting me, even though Serena still struggles to understand how much good magic can do. They are my support and encouragement. Once I finally settle down, I quickly dry my eyes and wipe my nose with a hanky.

“
Sorry, I didn’t mean to go overboard.”

“
It’s fine,” she says. “Though next time you cut your hair, maybe ask me and I can help.”

A giggle escapes me. “It’s that bad?”

She cringes and that’s all the answer I need. It’s what I get for letting my emotions gain control. Nothing good ever comes of letting that happen.

“
Should I have you try to fix it before I look at it in the mirror then?”

“
That may be best.”

“
Maybe.” After a moment of thinking, I say, “No, I have to know what the damage is. Hopefully I’ll never get another chance to see something like this.” I let a burst of magic out in a bright flash, growing the silver light into a reflective surface. It was a trick I learned to use when I couldn’t tell if I looked good enough to be held up to the standard of the Woman’s Canon. Also, it’s what I did on a larger scale at my duel earlier today. Doubt any warlock would have come up with defensive spells while making sure they looked proper.

“
That looks like a useful spell,” Serena says.

I bite my lower lip to keep from squealing. “It is. Maybe sometime I could teach it to you.”

“Perhaps so.”

Her quiet reflection is louder than any response. If she’s this open, I should be able to teach her about magic like Lukas showed me.

The spell in front of me that made her speak up, is shinier than ever. The sight of my curly, choppy hair, all chin length, but horridly uneven and wild, sends me into a fit of giggles. “Maybe I should keep it like this.”

“
It would certainly startle your opponents tomorrow.”

“
What’s all this—” Waverly stops as soon as she sees me. Her expression still unreadable, she calls out, “Bethany! Girls! You have to see this.”

There’s a pattering of footsteps, and Bethany hurries in the room, her face wrinkled with concern. “What happened?”

I shrug, calmness chasing away my fears. “I’m done fitting into the council's demands.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Thankfully, Waverly has experience cutting hair. Since she wanted to be a lady’s maid, it only makes sense she would have acquired such a skill in Envado. When she’s done, it looks surprisingly fantastic.

It’s rough and jagged still, hard-edged, but curling in a feminine way. A wild feminine way that isn’t permitted to be seen in public. The longest of it is to my chin, but some of the shorter pieces are staggered above that. Now it has texture and purpose that my hack job didn’t have before. I look nothing like any Chardonian has ever seen. Good thing I have the status of a warlock.  Never again will I spell my hair to keep it in place.

“
I love it,” Bethany says. “You look as if you’re starting a fashion all your own.”

“
Agreed,” Serena says. “Should we show Lukas? He’s here talking with Zade.”

“
No.” I’m too scared to see what his reaction will be, but anyone else I couldn’t care less. It’s time for them to deal with me as I am. But Lukas? I want him to be pleased with who I am as well, but what if he’s not? I’m not changing who I am any longer, not for anyone, but it’d still make me happy if he liked it. “He can see it tomorrow. There is one more thing I need, though.”

“
What’s that?”

“
Something that Katherine made.”

***

The next morning, I stride onto the field with a confidence I didn’t feel before. My hair tickles my jawline, but I resist the urge to push it back. Hopefully I’ll grow used to it soon, but even if I don’t, I wouldn’t take back cutting it. The feeling of power I get from it is incredible. I didn’t know something as simple as cutting my hair could make me feel this way. If I had, I would have done it a long time ago.

No face paint this morning. No sense looking like clownish bed sheets. The black pants and shirt Katherine left for me are sleek and form fitting without being tight. Though the outfit is typically male, but the cut is feminine, fitting my curves. My breeches cling to my legs, sticking to them in a way they don’t at home. Yet there’s also a freedom of movement. Something that adds confidence to my stride.

When I glanced in the mirror this morning before leaving, it was hard to recognize my reflection. I couldn’t help but spell my hair a vivid red to go with the new cut. The overall effect is stunning and strong. I should have donned this look when I first strove for independence. Every speck of me feels like a woman, yet every speck of me feels like me.

The only thing that doesn’t fit is the orange band signifying I’m from Chardonia. I’d rather have red. My cheeks burn at the thought, leaving at least part of me the color I want to be. Grateful no one knows my feelings, I head across the field, not avoiding the muddy spots that squelch beneath my boots, straight toward the schedule. I will not fail again. Today, I will show Chardonia what a woman can really do.

Poor Chadwick and Conrad follow right along, mucking through the path I’m trudging. At least no warlocks have bumped into me today, at least not yet. There’s not as large of a group around the stone today, but enough that they could still hassle me if they wish to.

When I spot Lukas, waiting off to the side, I let my feet carry me to him. There's only a momentary distraction, one that’s polite and wanted, not with just the aim of avoiding what must be done. While I keep my expression at its ever-fake smile, hiding the nerves that are invading, Lukas has no qualms about letting his soft yet powerful smile show the moment his gaze meets mine. I’m lighter than air, yet somehow managing to stay grounded as we near.

Others move around us, but they’re a blur. A small part of me wishes they were all gone, that Lukas and I were alone, but mostly I don’t care. I’m done caring about what society thinks of me. Instead, I focus on what’s important, his smile. It matches exactly how I’ve felt since waking this morning.

“
Your hair looks good,” he says. “Real good.”

His words send such a glow of happiness through me, past my fake smile to give him a real one. “Thank you.”

He leans in closer, his warmth chasing away the chill of the morning. “You should smile like that more often.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I automatically look down, except his fingers gently reach out and tilt my chin back up. His hand is gone almost as quickly as it came, but my breath still catches in a funny way.

“I already checked the schedule. Would you like me to tell you what duels you have today, or would you like to go find out for yourself?”

The reality of the morning wraps around me with a sudden choking. I don’t want to go through another morning like yesterday; it’d be so much easier if he just told me. But I won’t show any weakness when I’m just finding my strength. “I’ll do it myself. Thank you.”

“Good luck then. I probably won’t see you again until tonight.”

My heart gives a strange little twist as I think that. Once again, this might be the last time I see him. To think I’ll have to do this every day this week. Or at least I hope I have to do it every day this week. “Good luck to you, too.”

And he’s gone. Off to fight his own duel while I need to be off to fight in my own. I glance at Chadwick, who’s studying the crowd with keen interest, though he probably knows everything that just took place between Lukas and me.

“
I’m going to check the schedule if you’re ready.”

He straightens. “I’m ready.”

I’m not, not really, but if I’m going to be on time, I need to go check anyway. I pivot toward the board, clench my jaw, and walk. At first, nothing changes from when I was just standing there, but then I start to notice warlocks watching me out of the corner of their eye. Hushed conversations are taking place. And the closer I get, the more apparent it is that no one is bumping into me or shoving me around.

Is it my hair, face paint, or clothes that has brought such a drastic change? Or maybe it’s all three? Whatever it is, it boosts my confidence all the more. Until I’m almost to the oddly, line-free stone, and a warlock, with broad shoulders and plenty of muscles to support them, steps in front of me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He sneers.

“
Checking my duels for the day, just like all warlocks are required to do.”

“
You think that a stupid slip of paper, a haircut and color while wearing breeches makes you one of us? Think again, wench.”

“
Watch what happens in my duels today, and you’ll know there’s more than just a little outward change that makes me someone you shouldn’t be mocking.”

He laughs. “Oh don’t worry, little girly. I won’t only be watching. I’m your last opponent of the day, if you manage to live that long.”

“Good. You’ll see exactly how much more of a warlock I am than you are.”

He leans in closer and out of the corner of my eye, I see Chadwick tense, but he doesn’t come forward. “I’ll see something all right. I’ll see you dead before you’ve cast your first spell.”

He leaves before I say another word. A shimmer of doubt forms, but I shove past it, not willing to show all these warlocks watching me just how much I’m affected by it.

After checking over the board and quickly memorizing my more rigorous schedule, I head to the section of the field where I’ll be dueling today. Not anywhere important, where Serena’s box will overlook, but smushed into some tiny corner. No matter. There are still people there to see me, probably the same ones that laughed at me yesterday. One more incentive to keep moving forward in the competition. Keep working until I am somewhere that not only a few people in the corner will see me but all who attend the tournament.

Those around me seem too quiet as I walk past, but maybe I’m so intent on my destination that I’m letting their conversations fade. I have to focus, and I have to win. I can’t come as close as I did to losing last time. If I do… Well, I just won’t. I will make them see what I can do. What a woman can do.

A strand of hair blows in my eyes. Instead of brushing it aside with my fingers, I go against that screaming instinct since I’m not in the forbidden magic zone anymore, and brush it back into place with a wisp of air in the form of a blue spell. The spell glitters as it passes by. Why is it glittering? Please tell me it’s not my nerves, but I’m sure that’s why. I lengthen my stride and keep my shoulders back. Maybe anyone who saw it will mistake it for confidence.

They call my name, and I move forward, leaving Chadwick behind on the sidelines. Serena and the others aren’t watching today, at least not where I can see them. They must be in one of the boxes or stands to watch, and no one wants them anywhere around here. Hopefully someone will soften toward them soon, though it may just be more nerve-wracking to have them watch than supportive. It'd still be a nice thought. Conrad isn't anywhere to be seen either, though I know he’s keeping an eye on things from somewhere. He always is there somewhere protecting me.

The chatter grows louder as I walk toward my duel. I ignore them all as I stride to my dueling ring. When I stop at my spot, the judge doesn’t say a word but just stares at me.

“Um, what are you doing?” He finally squeaks out.

I give him an icy smile. “Getting ready to fight in my duel.”

His eyes widen. “Cynthia Stephen’s daughter?”