Shadow in the Water

Chapter 7

I helped Christian in the shop while Mr. MacLean worked on a way to conceal the magic of Danu's Tear so it could be studied in relative safety. Christian and I planned on meeting up here tomorrow to discuss my "training regimen," but didn't talk further about any of the things that hung so heavily on my mind. Work felt... strange. I was in possession of a book that was going to begin teaching me actual magic sitting in my bag behind the counter, but here I was, adding a new shipment of books to our inventory program and putting them on the shelves. It seemed inane in comparison.

I couldn't stop my imagination from drifting. There were so many possibilities floating in front of me. I daydreamed about what new things I would learn from that leather journal, what kind of adventures we would go on in search of Atlantis. I wondered why there might be people out there who didn't want it to be found. Who wouldn't want to find the remains of a lost civilization? More than once I thought about the crash of United Flight 427, and wondered if magic would be able to help me learn what had happened to it. More than once Christian caught me staring out a window with a stack of books in my arms, eyes half lidded and unfocused. Thankfully he didn't ridicule me, only raised an eyebrow and continued with his work.

After we closed the store for the evening, Christian followed me home and made sure I got inside safely before giving a curt nod and exiting the large driveway. I ignored any and all attempts at conversation, besides asking if one of the staff could please bring three mugs of hot coffee, and sat down at the long studying table in my library with the door locked and the curtains drawn. Once I was sure I was completely alone, I stared at the journal on the table for a brief moment, drinking in the sight of it... then slowly opened the cover.

The text was written in a beautifully clear, precise hand. The ink was crisp and the pages were clean, despite how old the book appeared to be. I wondered absently if it had been scrawled with a quill as I scanned the words. It was written differently than I'd imagined. I had thought it would be like a witch's grimoire from a fantasy novel, filled with incantations and symbols, with lists of items needed for each spell. Instead, it was laid out like Creative Writing for Dummies, but for magic instead. The first page held a table of contents, displaying the following chapter titles; "Discovering Your Magic," "An Introduction to Verbal Spells," "An Introduction to Runic Spells," "An Introduction to Energy," and "An Introduction to Weaves and Their Patterns." 

Discovering Your Magic spoke about how it was the application of the magic that beginners find to be  the most difficult part, as opposed to memorizing magic words, patterns, or runes. It claimed that willpower and imagination were the key to combining one's knowledge with their intent. It offered suggestions on how to meditate to find the well of magic inside of your own body. It guided me to think about my own magic with questions like, "What color is it? What does it smell like? How does it move from your core throughout your body?"

I contemplated it for some time as I thought back to the way I'd made the pebble glow at the bookstore. Concentrating on that 'energy' part of my body, I sat cross-legged in my chair with my hands on my knees and breathed deeply, as the book had instructed. I imagined that my magic was a pretty, scarlet light. It shimmered as if it were a liquid mixed with fine golden glitter. The longer I concentrated on it, the more new information seemed to offer itself up to my mind. Some of what I found surprised me. It had a grace to it that flowed and ebbed like water. It smelled of waxflower and jasmine; citrusy and sweet. It felt like the softest of silk, and almost as if it would be warm to the touch. Part of me wondered why I'd never noticed its presence before. Looking for it wasn't all that hard, once I knew what to look for. Christian had said that not everyone could cast magic. I wondered what percentage of the human population could.

When I felt satisfied with my inner search I opened my eyes to glance at the clock on the wall and found that nearly two hours had passed while I'd been meditating. I stretched out my legs and spent several minutes regretting that I'd been so lost in thought, because the pins-and-needles feeling of blood flow returning to my limbs assaulted me vigorously. I did my best to distract myself from the unpleasant feeling by starting the next chapter, "An Introduction to Verbal Spells."