Dangerous Magic

1. Friends to Enemies

"What did you do?" Jackson demanded. He had to shout to be heard over the wind that whipped around his face. We squinted at each other, partly out of anger and partly to keep the wind from blowing my long hair into our eyes.

We may not be close anymore but I knew that look. It was his how-could-you-be-so-stupid look. I didn't relish being on the receiving end but we had bigger problems.

"My life was sad so I wished for a better one," I admitted, also yelling. It was past the time of being embarrassed over what was.

"You should have come to me instead, Rochelle! You, of all people, should know how dangerous magic is!" He raised his hand to shield his eyes against the flying debris. It didn't help.

He didn't have to add for you. We both knew what he implied.

Magic was dangerous for me.

"Because we're so close. And you're such a good guy all of a sudden. And you'd drop everything to help just because I asked," I retorted. Let me never be delusioned about who he was ever again.

I glanced at the cyclone around us, hellbent on destroying the school. Not the time or place for this conversation.

His eyes bored into mine with something I didn't recognize; he had changed a lot since we last stood this close. But that didn't change the fact that he was right: magic was dangerous and I should have known better.

Now it might be too late.

+

I should back up. Normal people don't accidentally start natural disasters with their feelings.

Which was not to suggest I was normal; just that the people with that sort of power usually had more control over it.

Jackson brought out the worst in me.

Let's start over.

Since the magical revolution, there were those with and those without. Some people had magic and used it for good or ill as they saw fit. They took over the world, making it better for others like them and worse for everyone else. Anyone without magic was considered less-than.

And then there were people like me. We existed to cause chaos, my mother used to say. There was no predicting if a child would be a magical nullifier. Even the richest and most powerful mages couldn't figure out what caused a person to be born with this weird ability to soak up the magic in the world and twist it until it was unrecognizable.

Most of us nulls ended up in orphanages only to be adopted by scientists who wanted to study us or corporations who wanted to use us. In seventy years, they still hadn't figured out what made us tick.

My parents worked hard to keep me hidden, to keep our family away from magic.

Some things are inescapable.

Besides, I was done hiding. At twelve, I finally convinced them to let me go to public school. At fourteen, my dad disappeared. When I was sixteen, I convinced Mom to teach me magic, secretly, of course. I can hide it, I'd pleaded. If I can learn more about magic, maybe I can figure out how to control it. And find my dad.

Now, a year later, I was no closer to controlling this awful gift than I was to finding my dad.

I wonder if he'd be disappointed in me.

But Jackson really messed up my plans.

It was my first day and instead of being totally anonymous, a null in disguise, in my new school, exactly one person recognized me. My first class was history--and Jackson made his presence known.