Street Magic: Alicia's Story

Caught

2000

Four Months later

I stare at the candle in frustration. It's not burning. I got the wax of its body to somewhat melt, leaving the candle shaped like a broken bone. Edgar says it's progress, because it means I can produce heat, but to hell with it. I'm not here to generate heat. I want to call up fire. It's meant to be one of the easiest applications of magic. I should be able to do it. I'm supposed to be a mage. Yet all I've managed to magically do so far has been to break things. Shatter a window. Knock over furniture. Fry a toaster. (Well, technically, that one did burn in the end, but I'm afraid it won't qualify as 'me calling up fire' either.)

"Magic is tightly linked with emotion", Edgar says, for about the hundredth time. "You can't expect it to work precisely, as long as you don't control your feelings."

I don't really listen to him. The last ninety-nine times, I replied something along the lines of "BUT I WANT IT TO", but this conversation gets dull over time. As does talking about magic with someone who calls himself an autodidact but doesn't even have an access to magic on their own.

Don't get me wrong - I totally understand why Felipe has left me with him. Edgar is patient, kind and careful, the exact sort of guy you'd want to watch over your little sister while you're out there meeting your subversive underground student organization. Still sucks though, if you're the little sister and actually want to be there, too.

There was a short while, when Felipe seemed to consider me at eye-leve with himl, but since the Council doubled their effort to find any unregistered mages, he's been handling me with kid gloves. Including confining me to the basement rooms of his friends' shared house on campus and always, always having one of his older friends keep an eye on me. I haven't been out in days. Sometimes, I actually wonder how much worse it could be with the Council.

I pull back from the table and rise to my feet decidedly. "I want to go out", I say.

Edgar frowns. "Why?"

"Because", I reply. "I need some diversion. Let's have ice-cream."

Edgar hesitates, before he shakes his head.

"Oh, come on", I groan. "Pleeeeeease, Edgar. There's a stand right across the street. How would anyone recognize me? It's not as if they can see that I have powers, is it? Plus, I obviously can't even light a candle. Nobody will ever be interested in me. Trust me."

"I trust your brother", Edgar says firmly. "He knows things. If he says it's not safe for you, he's right."

"Always a bright thing, trusting the guy with mind control powers", I mutter.

His eyes narrow. "Let's leave it with 'Always a bright thing trusting the grown-up', shall we, kid?"

Before I can reply, we're interrupted by the doorbell, twice short, once long. It's Ava's signal. Edgar's girlfriend.

"I'll answer that", he replies, almost too quickly. He seems disturbingly relieved to have a reason to leave me alone.

I smirk at him and wave at the table. The candle snaps and breaks in two. "I think we're done here anyway."

"You're terrible", he says with a side glance at the candle, but he doesn't sound too upset. "I'll ask Ava to pick you up some ice-cream. Hope that'll help."

He jogs up and I trudge after him to the foot of the stairs, bored and curious, if he'll stand by his word.

I hear him unlock the door, and an unexpected silence. "Ava, wha-", I hear him say, before he breaks off, followed by nothing but a muffled thump.

I step back, heart suddenly racing, as I glance around me. Shit. Oh shit. That can't be good. Heavy steps enter the house, and over them, I hear Ava's voice, faint and hollow. "She's in the basement."

There's a window leading to the side street in the pantry next to me. I focus on it, and with a flicker of my magic, the glass and frame are pushed outside. Behind me, steps scuffle down the stairs. I don't really think any longer. I just sprint forward, lunge, climb through the opening with a speed I never knew I could muster. I'm tiny. I just hope they're larger, they will need to take the long way, they -

On the street, there are others. Two men with uniforms and guns, pointing at me and the shards, yelling something my brain is unable to translate. Run. I need to run. Frantically I turn to the side.

There's a shot and something hisses through the air, right past me. Fuck. I can't outrun shots. I need to defend myself.

Magic. I need to use my magic. There. A car is parked on the sidewalk between me and the shooters. I clench my teeth as I reach out for it, just as I did for the candle. No difference, I hear Edgar's voice in my head. It's not about size, it's just about will. I flick my wrist. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. The car trembles for a moment, before it is pushed of the ground, overturns twice and lands on top of the soldiers with a deafening crash.

On top of them.

I need to run, but suddenly, I'm frozen in place. I stare at the car wreck in horror. What did I-

No. No. Not now. I spin on my heels, when new shouts emerge from the side, and I start running. Worry later. Just away. I need to get-

More shots fall behind me. Something hits me in the back. I can still move, though. Still run. Still get-

My head starts to spin. My legs turn to rubber. Desperately, I lift my foot again, but the direction is all wrong. I can't see the sky. The street is coming towards me.

When my body hits the asphalt, I'm already unconscious.