The Box Omnibus #1 (The Box, The Journal, The Sword) (16 page)

“Remember what I said,” she whispers to me. “See you later,” she adds louder for the benefit of our onlooker.

And once again I’m alone.

I have no idea how long I sit on the bed with my cell in my hand. I need to get a hold of Mom and the only way I know how is to call her. There must be some way of using magic to make it work, even though we’re in a different world. Isn’t magic meant to do things like this?

Problem. I have no idea what numbers I’m dialing. Too be honest, I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s turned on.

No, it must be. I manage to accidently access my music, one of the songs blaring louder than I’d ever play it on purpose. Al’s mother comes rushing in, completely freaking out and shouting about magic in the house, though I’m not sure if she was more worried about me being in trouble or me causing the trouble.

After a few apologies and awkward attempts explaining what the noise is, she leaves. She seems all too happy to go.

I bring the phone up to my face and press the cool plastic against my forehead. If only the pressure would make something inside my brain click. How am I supposed to figure out how to use magic if I can’t dial a damn phone?

It’s not only the phone stopping me. I have no idea how magic works. Before I could see the magic in Cindy’s pockets and the net around Al...

I wish I hadn’t thought his name. It’s easier to avoid thinking about what he is if I don’t think his name.

Al.

A wizard.

And Rose. She wants me gone, and she’s right, I need to go. But I’m not sure I’m ready to leave, even if I could without Cindy. Too many things are unresolved.

Al.

I need to focus on my magic. Somehow. If I don’t figure it out then I can’t
warn Mom. She needs to know about Stewart and at the very least, she needs to know we’re safe. There’s no way she’s not going berserk.

But Al could have taken my magic. The entire time while we were together, he could have easily taken it and I wouldn’t have
realized until it was too late. The fact he didn’t has to mean something.

Except, maybe he’s the same as Stewart. Maybe he’s biding his time, waiting for the best moment.

And yet, I don’t think so. Rose’s description about him being different feels true. He’s definitely not like the other two wizards I’ve met.

But then again, maybe they were like him before they took their first bit of magic.

I should be worried. I should be finding weapons and running for my life. Instead I continue to sit here, pawing at my phone and feeling more comfortable than I do in my own room.

Which is odd. Being at ease in a wizard’s room is strange enough, but I also feel physically cozier than I ever have. The bed isn’t as soft, the room is kind of drafty, musty and damp, and there are creaks and groans no house should make. Never mind the strange sounds of mythical creatures coming from the other side of the window. With my nerves, I should be ready to pounce at the first thing to walk through the door.

Instead, my skin feels something between goose bumps and warmth. The only part of me not enjoying the energy of the room is my hand holding my phone. It registers only the cold metal and plastic. I bring my other hand to press against it to hold it flat between both palms. The warm goose bumps disappear against the normal feeling of technology. I bring a single hand to my cheek and the heat triples, though I’m not sure if it’s my hand or face feeling the change. The more I think about it, the more I realize it might be both.

My skin’s not the only thing causing the strange hot and cold sensation. I run my fingers over the quilt and enjoy the light tingling from the contact. There’s
more to the texture against my hand than the threads making up the blanket, though I can’t quite place the feeling. The wood headboard tickles the inside of my wrist and a plant set in front of the window causes my entire arm to feel itchy and relaxed at the same time.

Two knocks on the door and I find myself yanking back my hand from a folded pile of clothes. I’m not sure what I was touching, but the sudden thought I might have been fondling Al’s underwear causes my face to burn.

“Lou?” Al tentatively says through the door when I don’t respond to his knock. “Can I come in?”

I think I’d rather be stuck in a room with my sister and that’s saying something. But, I’ll have to get this over with at some point. I can’t hide in here forever. Besides, if he wanted to come in and take my magic, he could easily do so without my permission.

“Fine.”

I sit back on the bed as he opens the door and clicks it shut behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he says the moment he’s inside.

I’m surprised. I expected things to be silent and uncomfortable for a lot longer.

“For what?” I bite back. “Lying to me or for being a wizard?”

“I didn’t exactly lie.”

He must have known from the look on my face his excuse wasn’t going to hold up.

“Fine. I didn’t exactly tell you the truth, but would you have helped me if you’d known?”

“Of course.”

Though it’s easy to say the words now, I’m not so sure how true they are. At least not now
I understand what I am capable of.  I wouldn’t have released my magic if I’d known the threat sat there next to me, and I definitely wouldn’t have made him big again as my first act with my power. Then again...

“What other choice would I have had? Kill you?”

“You might have.” The idea seems to be much easier for him to process than it is for me. “You would have, if you were from my world. Why do you think I was so afraid when I first fell onto your lap?”

I throw my arms out in an exaggerated shrug. “Oh, I don’t know, because I was a
gajillion times bigger than you? Besides, you didn’t seem very scared. You didn’t freak out half as much as I did.”

He chuckles at the memory, only for a second, but the sound is so soothing. Better than the magic of a hundred boxes.

“Yeah, I probably should have taken the hint you weren’t a fully trained sorceress. Or a killer.”

“You knew though.” I remember the cautious way he always watched me, and only now
realize he was waiting for me to use my magic. “Right away, before I ever opened the bag, you knew what I was. What I am. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

He sounds as though he’s afraid of upsetting me as he says, “I wasn’t entirely sure. I could sense some magic, but barely enough to make you anything more than a witch. Besides, I got the feeling Sin would have killed me if I
had said anything.”

He’s probably right. Cindy
isn’t one to let other people give away more information than she thinks is necessary. Especially if she thought she was doing what Gran wanted.

I need to know more about what happened to me, and the only person who might give me some answers stands before me. I know I shouldn’t trust him, but it’s hard to feel betrayal when the energy passing between us is so intense.

“You’ve seen magic taken before. Your sister.” I remember my anger while adding, “And who knows how many others like her. When their magic was taken, or when Stewart took mine, I wasn’t me anymore. Right? So how was Gran locking my magic into bags any different?”

His voice is soft and unsure as he says, “I honestly don’t know.”

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I certainly hoped for more information than ‘I don’t know.’ He should, shouldn’t he? After all, he is a wizard.

I pick up my phone and concentrate. Mom’s what matters. Not who I might or might not be.

“Can you get it to work?”

Part of me wishes he’d take my ignoring him
as a hint and leave. Mostly I’m relieved when the section of the bed next to me sinks as he sits down.

I press random parts of the plastic in hopes of somehow finding the right series of spots to make the phone call my mother.

“Is that...” Al stops himself.

I really don’t want to say anything more to him.

But I also can’t stand not knowing what he was going to say.

“Is that what?”

“It’s like a mirror into another part of the world. People are moving around and they don’t seem to be at all aware of the fact you’re watching them.”

“You can see people?” I
realize what he’s talking about as soon as I ask the question. “Damn. I’m in the videos. You know, for the first time ever, I wish this phone didn’t do so much. I actually miss my old phone. As ugly as it was. Bright pink of course. At least these ones only come in white and black.”

“You keep pressing their faces, making them stop and start again. I’m guessing that’s not your intention.”

I growl my annoyance and move my thumb down a little bit. “Well, since I can’t see anything, I don’t know how you can expect me to do any better.”

He considers his words carefully before saying, “I could help. Or at least, I could try.”

“Are you going to give me your eyes?”

He chuckles, the sound as warming as ever. “I don’t think that would actually be helpful. Pretty sure it would make neither of us able to see. And I can’t
imagine eyeballs would be pleasant to touch.” Before I can fully say ‘ew!’ he continues. “However, I have heard of people being able to use magic to look through another person’s eyes. You could attempt something along those lines.”

“It sounds great, but I still don’t have any idea how to use my magic.” I jab at my cell again. “I can’t even get my phone to dial home.”

“Your magic is now associated with touch, right?” I have no idea how he figured it out faster than me. “So a connection with me might make things easier.”

Timidly, he touches his fingertips against my hand closest to him. Although I flinch, I don’t pull away which he takes as a sign to continue what he’s doing. With so little pressure it tickles, he slides his fingers across my palm and then lightly grips my wrist. Just as slowly, he lifts my hand and presses it against his temple, right at the hairline.

My thoughts go back to my conversation with Rose and how dangerous it can be for me to get too close to Al. Even so, I can’t convince myself to pull away.

“Do you feel anything?”

That seems like a loaded question, and one I’m definitely not ready to answer.

“Lou? Do you feel anything which might be magic?”

Of course that’s what he meant. What else could it have been?

“Warm and cold at the same time,” I describe to him. “I feel it coming from everything, including my own skin.”

“Concentrate on what’s coming from you.”

Easier to say than do. The more I try to focus on the magic inside myself, the more I’m distracted by the amount of it surrounding us. And the box. Almost pulsing now.

He must think my silence means I’ve done what he told me and he continues his instructions. “Now, concentrate on what you want to accomplish.”

He waits a few more seconds. “Have you got it?”

I sigh and pull my hand away, but his hand moves with mine, never letting go.

“I can’t do it. There’s way too much going on.”

“Such as?”

“There’s magic everywhere in this room. And all of it is stronger than what is inside me.”

He’s silent for a minute. “I doubt that.”

Never before have I so badly wanted to look a guy in the eye before. I desperately want to see what his expression is giving away, if anything.

He raises my hand to his temple again.

“Try again. This time pretend nothing beyond the two of us exists. The other magic doesn’t matter. All that matters is what’s inside you.”

At first I ignore the feeling of his rough-textured fingers against my much softer hand. But it brings me back to the wood and the plant and the box. I still can’t focus on myself. The hot and cold feeling I get when I touch my own skin doesn’t seem to exist when I’m in contact with something, or someone else.

Maybe that’s the trick. Don’t focus on me, focus on Al.

It’s too easy to let myself concentrate on each bump and indent of his skin and on each strand of hair tickling my hand. I have to remind myself of the purpose of the exercise several times before I can remember to focus on his eyes, and more importantly what he’s seeing.

For half a second, my hand seems to be on fire, and then in the blink of an eye it stops. And I’m staring at myself.

I pull completely away from Al. Everything is black again, but I barely notice. My hands go to my head where I start desperately attempt to fix the mop I’m trying to pass as hair and rub the circles out from under my eyes. I didn’t know it was possible for me to look so bad. I never look so disheveled, even in the mornings.

Why had no one said anything?

“You’re panicking,” Al says. “That’s good.”

I pull a face and quickly return to attempting to make myself look presentable.

“I mean, not good about your panicking, but I’m assuming it means it worked. You could see through my eyes. Why are you pulling at your hair?”

I stop tugging and cover my hair as best I can with my hands. “I look like a crazy homeless person.”

“A very attractive homeless person.”

From the way his voice catches as he says the last words, I think he must have only
realized what he was saying after it was too late.

“I mean, most homeless people don’t exactly look...” He coughs as he
realizes he’s not helping himself and I can’t help but laugh, my hands falling to my sides. “Magic. I’m teaching you magic.”

A sudden thought occurs to me and causes my throat to become dry and itchy. Even though I tell myself not to say anything, the words start spewing out.

“Rose said something today. During our walk.”

“Oh?” he asks casually. Obviously he has no idea about how sweaty my palms are. I suddenly wonder how well my deodorant has lasted.

“It wasn’t a big deal; it made me wonder, is all. She said something about how you can’t kiss a sorceress without accidently stealing their power.” I laugh nervously. “So I guess you and I won’t ever—“

“No,” he cuts me off harshly. The sudden shift in his tone sends my already vibrating nerves jumping into high gear, every muscle in my body tense. “Absolutely not. No. That will never happen.”

“Right.” My voice cracks, giving away my frazzled state if my body language hasn’t already done so. “No, of course not.”

The bed shifts as he stands up. “I’ve taught you enough for now,” he says in the same dark tone. With no other warning, the door creaks before clicking shut.

“So glad I said something,” I say to my phone.

I want to get up and run or stretch or do something active to settle my nerves, but I have the feeling the room isn’t very big and I don’t want to follow Al out. Instead all I can do is sit there with my foot tapping the floor.

After poking my cell a few times, I give up and toss it onto the bed. I can’t do it blind. I should have concentrated on the magic rather than asking such a stupid question. If I could attempt the spell again, I’m sure it would last longer this time. It felt so strange and wonderful for the brief second it worked.

Each bump of his skin, the tickle of his hair, and then the moment of fire as the magic inside of me finally found the link between us in order to make the jump into his head race through my mind as though I’m experiencing it again.

At first I don’t realize anything’s happened. I’m remembering the feeling after all, not recreating the magic. Or so I think. And then he opens his eyes. I almost jump back when something comes at his face with no warning, but I realize at the last minute it’s his hand. He rubs for a second before his hand drops away and out of sight.

I want to look around the room at everything to see the walls, the window, the ceiling, but he doesn’t comply. Instead he focuses on the floor for a long time. It looks more or less like a normal hardwood floor, though there’s more space between each strip of wood than in most modern homes. And it’s stained a strange greenish color. At least, I assume it’s not natural.

Finally he turns his focus on something else. A bed. There’s someone under the brightly colored quilt, though he doesn’t look at their face. Instead he focuses on the bumps I assume are the person’s feet as they lie on their back.

It drives me insane not being able to change the point of view no matter how much I move my own head. I have the feeling once I’m concentrating on my body again I’m going to have a kink in my neck from forcing it into weird positions while trying to shift Al’s vision.

By the time his eyes travel up to the face of the person in the bed, I’ve already guessed it’s his sister and he’s talking to her. Not being able to hear what he’s saying makes me feel deaf, though part of my mind can clearly make out every sound of the room I’m actually in. Still, I have an urge to rub my ears, but I refrain in case the movement causes me to break the connection with Al.

For the first time since making the link, Al focuses on exactly what I want him to look at. His sister has a round
, almost childish, face; though I get the feeling she’s around the same age as me. Her skin has turned a chalky color from the lack of sun and exercise, but otherwise it looks like any other teen’s face. Although she appears to be asleep, something about her feels wrong. She doesn’t seem relaxed enough, or restless enough, or something.

And then her eyes open and everything snaps back to the darkness of my own vision. I expect to hear Al’s cry of astonishment and for him to call to his parents. But nothing happens. I want to go out and check for myself, but the sudden lack of sight is more crippling than when I first woke up. The bed feels like the only safe place in the entire world.

She opened her eyes. It has to mean something. It can’t be normal for her to open her eyes. I never did. Did I? But he’s not shouting, and before I jumped out of the spell, Al showed no signs of being surprised. It must be...normal.

It’s awful.

How can he stand it? How can he stand having her look like she’s awake and fine when there’s absolutely nothing left inside of what makes her who she was?

“All right,” Cindy enters the room without any warning. “I know you think I’ve been a total bitch since you woke up and okay, yeah, maybe I sort of have, but...hey, what’s wrong?”

I try to make my face do anything other than scowl, but it doesn’t want to cooperate. I shake my head ‘no’ as answer to her question.

“It’s the blindness thing, isn’t it?” She sighs and flops onto the bed beside me. Instantly my arm closest to her starts to itch. I scratch it absently, though I know it won’t help. The feeling will only go away if she leaves and takes whatever magic she’s got with her. “Look, I know I’ve been pretty insensitive about the whole thing, and I understand I’m the last person you want to talk to right now. But Al? Really? You’re going to talk to him and not me?”

I don’t say a word though I’m sure my scowl deepens.

She waits a moment before for me to defend myself, but when I don’t she sighs. “Not why I came in here. Listen, I’ve been doing some thinking, and maybe this whole blindness thing is temporary. That kind of thing happens sometimes, right? When someone looks at something too bright for too long and loses their sight, but then it comes back. It might take a while, but it comes back.”

Maybe I should be more positive about her theory, but I don’t know how looking at a bright light and getting your magic sucked out of you are at all similar.

“So yeah, it’s not exactly the same thing, but it’s worth a try, right?”

I don’t know if I zoned out for a minute or if she missed a sentence or two there, but either way I’m completely lost. “What?”

“It might not do anything,” she warns. “I can’t say my magic has been having a huge success rate throughout this whole adventure, but
—“

“Adventure?” I laugh with derision. “You think of this as an ‘adventure?’ We both nearly died and I ended up in a coma because someone ripped my magic out of me, leaving my body to rot without me inside. Great adventure.”

She barely lets me finish before saying, “Poor choice of words, I hear you.”

“I don’t think you do, Cindy.” I stop her from continuing. “You have never in your life heard anything I, or anyone else said unless it pertained to you. You couldn’t be bothered to mention the fact Al is a wizard. He could have tried to take my magic at any point while you ran off on your idiotic ‘adventure.’ Do you give a crap what happens to me, or would it all have been a whole lot easier if I never woke up?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her voice cracks as she says the words. “You think I haven’t been sick with worry about you? You think I haven’t been awake every second since this happened thinking of ways to fix you? Ways to make you okay again. You think I don’t give a shit about you? Obviously you know nothing about me. Not very surprising. After all, you’re Princess Lou. You have your head so far up your ass you don’t see what’s going on around you. And yes, I know that’s a bad analogy right now, but you know exactly what I mean.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You think I don’t pay attention?”

“I think you spend so much time making Mom or your latest boyfriend or your terrible friends think you’re so perfect you don’t know what else you could be anymore. You used to be interesting. You used to actually care about other people. Now all you do is go through the motions and hope no one notices you were dead inside long before your magic was sucked out of you.”

I want to shout something back. Scream at her. Tear off her face. Do
something
. But I can’t. I feel limp. It’s like she can see inside of me and knows exactly what to say to hurt me the most.

But it’s not true. Not entirely. Maybe I was headed there before. I’d been doing everything I was told, become friends with the people I was expected to become friends with, but I started to change. I took up Taekwondo though I knew no one approved.

What had Al said? Something about how I thought of fighting as another dance?

“How should I act, more like you?” I ask. “Go out with guys I don’t like. Get into dangerous situations for the thrill? Change my looks every other day?”

A sound of disgust rises from her throat. “You should act however you want. I don’t care what you do. You should be you. And stop judging everyone else because they don’t do everything exactly how you think they should.”

“This hasn’t been an adventure.” I bring back the point I made before the whole shouting match started. Even to my ears I sound like I’m sulking.

“And if you’d have let me finish, you’d already know I’ve been out looking for magic to help you.” She stops to let her words sink in and make me feel a whole lot worse about my explosion. “Ass.”

The last bit describes exactly how I feel. But, I can’t apologize and I definitely can’t say what I’m thinking without her making some snide comment, so I half laugh and grumble, “I hate you.”

“Hate you too, sis.” She rubs the top of my head affectionately. “Now I’m going to put some stuff on your face. Let me know if any of it works.”

“Wait! My face? What are you putting on my-
Blargh!”

Something cold, wet and slimy spreads over my forehead, smears over my eyebrows and then gently presses onto my eyelids. I pull away, but Cindy only puts more of the gunk onto my face.

“Stop moving,” she says, a little too pleased with herself. “I have to really get it on there. The more you fight me, the more gets in your hair.”

As though I didn’t already look bad enough. “It’s in my hair? Ugh!”

I bat her hand away and run my fingers through my now goopy locks in horror. When I pull my hands away I realize my mistake. Now it’s not only on my face and in my hair, but also on my hands. Great. I don’t have anything to wipe them on.

She finally sighs. “I guess that’s enough. Don’t move while I do the spell.”

I stop leaning back though I point one finger at her in warning. “If you do something to ruin my hair or burn off my eyebrows or something, I will kill you.”

“Don’t worry, Lou.” Hers hand grip my shoulders as she forces me to lean toward her a little. “I work in illusions and visions, not with burning stuff.”

I take a deep breath and prepare for the strange tingling feeling of magic.

“Plus, if I do destroy your face I can illusion it to look the same. No prob.”

“What? Wait!”

But it’s too late, the tingling and burning has already started as Cindy says a few words in a foreign language. I didn’t know she knew anything other than English and maybe like four words of French.

I squeeze my eyelids shut tighter as the magic shifts to focus completely on my eyes. I’ve never needed to rub them more. And then the feeling stops.