Black Magic

Chapter Seven

I spring up immediately, flying to my desk. Stones and gems and metal rattle as I tear open one of the drawers, rifling through it, scraping my knuckles on the rough edge of a gemstone. My fingers finally close around something round and smooth and I pull it out, dropping it unceremoniously on the desk surface. Candles, I need candles—

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Looking for candles." Camila doesn't respond and I ignore her stare, opening another drawer. Dozens of small candles roll over one another as I search through them. Eventually I find five black ones, all of them fresh, their wax perfectly smooth and unblemished. Perfect. The spell will be stronger with fresh candles; they won't already have an aftertaste of magical energy.

I grab the small, perfectly round orb of amber I'd already found, holding it tight in one hand. Holding it helps—amber is protective and warm and comforting—but I need more than that.

Camila leans forward on the bed, staring at me. "Are you casting? What the hell, you're going to get candle wax all over the room." She narrows her eyes, gaze flicking between me and the discarded necklace sitting on my bed, biting her lip as she thinks. "What, did someone send you a curse?" Her tone seems like it can't decide between curiosity and morbid amusement.

"Something like that." I scoop my dagger off my bedside table. The weight of it sits heavy and comfortable in my hand. Just holding it makes me feel more secure, the nervous power flitting through my body focusing in my arm. I lock eyes with Camila and flick my dagger; the candles begin to float, arranging themselves in five points around the room. The vertices of a five-pointed star. "You should get into a corner." Surprisingly, she does, backing up to the corner of her bed and watching me in silence as I move into the centre of the room.

Another flick of the dagger. Power crackles in my knuckles and the candles flicker into tiny flames. I take a deep breath, tightening my grip on the amber. At the very centre of the pentagon of candles, I can feel the magic pulsing through me, the burning of the candles, the wax and wane of the flames with my breath.

I trace a quick pattern in the air with my dagger. For a moment nothing happens, and Camila opens her mouth to speak—but then the candle flames respond. They grow and extend, crawling towards one another, crossing over the middle of the room. Fire surrounds me on five sides as the candles connect in a pentagram. The power blasts into me like a wave of heat and I almost stagger, tensing my legs to contain the magic, gathering it in my chest until the heat becomes near unbearable.

Then I shove it all out into my hand, into the small piece of amber held aloft above the ground—and the darkness in my chest snarls in satisfaction, radiating heat and power straight to my hand. My arm trembles with the force of it. It's—it's almost too much, pure chaotic energy rumbling through my bones and crackling over my skin. I bite my tongue. It hurts, a desperate sort of pain almost as satisfying as soreness after a workout.

The amber shatters, coating the entire room in a soft gold dust. The flames disappear, extinguished with a sharp wind, and the darkness nestles back into my chest. Something about it provides a small measure of comfort. I'm not sure how to feel about that.

Amber dust glistens for a moment longer, and then the protection spell takes hold properly and the room lights up with golden light before it disappears completely. I stumble from the force of the magic leaving my body completely. "Shit," I mutter, bringing a hand up to rub over my face. "Shit."

"So the rumours about you are true." My head flashes up so fast my neck aches. Camila is staring at me, her eyebrows raised. Rumours—does she know? Did it show, somehow? The darkness made the spell more powerful, somehow, without me even asking it too, but could she see it? Eyes flickering to the window, my mind starts racing, wondering if I can climb down five stories or if I even have enough magical energy to float myself down. "You really are powerful."