Dangerous Magic

31. I Wish I Could Start Over

I wasn't in the mood to talk it out, so I didn't head for the dorms. Jackson had better things to do than to wait in my plain, ordinary dorm room for me to return, but just in case, I avoided it.

For completely different reasons, I avoided the arena. Better not to expose myself unnecessarily so I didn't accidentally send someone to a prison realm or steal all their magic. Again.

I was bitter and moping, but it felt apropos after all the truth bombs that had been going off lately. Sue me.

The hair stood up on the back of my neck. You know the feeling of being watched? My skin prickled with the weight of unknown eyes on me.

Keeping my stride normal, I continued down the hall. I turned the corner and the feeling of being watched subsided momentarily. The instant that feeling came back I knew I was also being followed.

Another corner and I broke into a run headed for the main entrance, only stopping when my pursuer called out a taunting question.

"Trying to steal another car?"

Miley?

I slowed, stopping only once I was close enough to the doors that I could make a break for it when the opportunity presented itself.

"What are you doing here?"

Miley rolled her eyes at me. "Making sure you don't do anything stupid," she said with a huff. Strutting without hurry, Miley walked with deliberate steps until she was only just out of reach. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of backing away; I'd just have to be faster than her.

"Who asked you to do that?"

"Who do you think?"

Jackson. My heart thumped uncomfortably hard and my palms felt slick. I hadn't scared him away.

"Ms. Williams thinks there's something weird about you," Miley said, bursting my bubble. "And I agree. What are you hiding?"

"I wouldn't be very good at hiding it if I told everyone who asked, now would I?" I smirked at her, going for the picture of relaxation.

No, Miley, your presence doesn't make me feel insignificant. And you didn't just get my hopes up that Jackson cared enough about me to send in a spy. Not at all.

Was it too much to ask to be left alone to wallow in peace? My aimless wandering surely didn't hurt anyone.

But Miley didn't buy my feigned confidence. "What were you doing last night?"

She asked her question like she already knew the answer. Which she did. It was a test to see what I remembered.

"Before or after I ruined that car so that I could escape the Omega trial?"

Miley's eyebrows shot up; she hadn't been expecting honesty.

She did not get a chance to respond. A car horn blared from the parking lot as the alarm started. Curious to see who else at BPM was trying to escape, I opened the door and left Miley behind.

Rather, I tried to leave her behind. Miley followed me out into the mess of the parking lot. Leaves and small tree branches scattered the ground and littered the tops of cars like Mother Nature's glitter. A strong wind had picked up, and it whipped my hair around my face, forcing me to squint. Miley had similar issues.

The car alarm came from an SUV in the first row that the wind had so politely decorated with a large tree limb.

"What is happening?" Miley asked. Or at least that's what I thought she said; the wind stole away her words as they left her mouth.

I was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to storm. As soon as I thought it, that's when the lightning struck the ground in front of me, missing me by no more than a few feet.

Scrambling backward, I grabbed Miley (who stared out at the parking lot with her mouth open) and pulled her back inside the building. We forced the door closed, stepping back to stare, stunned at the sudden onslaught.

Wind struck the outside walls angrily. The Beatrice Potts Magischola building shook, windows in their panes protesting, walls groaning under the pressure of keeping the wind out.

"Who would attack us?" Incredulous, Miley didn't take her eyes off of the door, but she jumped when the building shook a second time.

"Attack? It's just a storm." But the doors rattled as the forceful current tried to pry them open and suddenly I wasn't so sure it was just anything.

Not one to waste time explaining, Miley dashed off down the hall, probably in search of someone who could actually help. My magic wasn't going to do any good in an attack, even if I could access it.

But I found that I could. I hadn't realized that the heavy blanket that blocked the touch of magic through the wards had been lifted.

Weird.

Alone again, I wracked my brain for a way to help. My magic, when it obeyed, acted like either a mimic or a destructive force. With enough magic, I could impersonate any mage's skill. I could also blow stuff up, which was usually more impressive. Assuming this was an attack and not a natural storm, the caster was most likely an Elemental.

Luckily for BPM, I'd spent the last week impersonating an Elemental, and I'd researched them before taking on the role.

Most Elementals, Major and Minor alike, manipulated small amounts of single elements at a time. For the weather to be so ferocious, we were either dealing with a very strong Major, or multiple casters with one goal.

Most likely the caster or casters would be outside the magischola, just beyond where the storm originated. If I could find their hiding spot, I could disrupt their focus and stop the storm.

I pushed on one of the double doors and just that tentative crack provided enough room for the wind to snap it out of my hands, swinging the door wide. It bounced against the brick wall and stayed there. The other door soon followed.

The wind whipped through the hallway, beckoning me outside, pulling on my clothes to entice me to step over the threshold and into the storm.

The magic didn't feel exactly malicious. It felt familiar, like coming home.

It felt like my magic.

Both mimic and destruction together in one storm, hellbent on destroying the magischola.

Then I remembered writing those words, throwing them out, the crack in the wall. I wish I could start over.

Responsibility flooded through me. I knew what needed to be done.

I walked out into the storm and did not look back.