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She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. The glass dangles loosely between her fingers, empty again. “Can you combine magics?” I nod, slowly sipping my glass enough to keep my buzz going, but not trying to outpace her.
Something tells me I need to keep my wits about me around her.
“Yeah, it took me a lot of practice but now I can.”
“And that’s why you can hear magic?” she asks, eyes locked on mine. Her stare is intense; it’s as if she’s diving beneath my skin to see what I’m made of. The last thing I want is to be the one to break eye contact, so I lean forward, elbows on my own knees, mirroring her position. Like this, I could brush her fingers with just a small movement. I resist the temptation.
“Yeah, I think so. I have spent a long time learning to find and capture other magics, so I have a hard time turning off my senses.”
She sits back, satisfied with my answer. “So then why can I hear it when I am not magical?”
I bite my lip, unsure how to answer. Her eyes track the movement and I feel a heat blossom in my chest at her attention. “I… Viola, be honest with yourself. You have magic. A lot of it, by my estimation.”
Her back stiffens, and she shakes her head. “I don’t, Zeph. I used a Witch’s Ladder, that’s the extent of the magic I’ve utilized.” I drain my glass now, needing a bit of the courage provided by the liquor to continue this conversation.
My gut tells me she isn’t going to like what she’s about to hear.
“How much do you know about Witch’s Ladders?” I begin. Relaxing back on my sofa she schools her face in indifference.
“I mean, they’re imbued with Winter magic for the purpose of protection, right?”
“More or less,” I begin. “However, you’re missing a key factor. They respond to latent magic in the user. For example, a Winter can create a Witch’s Ladder for a Summer to combine their magics easier. But the person who pulls the string still needs to have some magic within them, otherwise, it’s just a string with some feathers.”
She scrunches her nose, and I am gob smacked at how such a lethal woman could be so cute. Until now, she’s been sharp edges, a dangerous beauty that I long to tame. With one scrunch of her nose, she’s so cute I want to pull her to my chest and stroke her hair.
I shake the thought from my head. Where is this coming from? I’ve never been so utterly captivated by someone before. I am powerless to help myself. The closer I get to her the stronger the pull to her becomes.
When she doesn’t speak, I continue. “When you pulled the feather during your battle with the Wendigo, did the shadows seem to listen to you?”
I watch her brows wrinkle at the mention of the Wendigo. “You knew about that?”
“Patricians have visibility of the Race,” I say, omitting that all of Ytopie watches.
“Of course you’re a Patrician,” she mutters, and the venom in her voice wounds me. Her lips thin. “When I pulled the feather and the shadows were summoned, they were like snakes, curling up my arms affectionately,” she all but whispers. “For just a moment, I thought one was staying with me just to make sure I was okay.”
Shadow magic is not something I know much of. Even when there were many Winter Seasonales, shadow magic was seen as darkness to be hidden away so the records on it are slim.
“There isn’t a lot known about Winter magic and how it manifests, because there has not been a practitioner in a long time and there were never very many. But if it is anything like the other Seasonale, a Winter will typically have major and minor focuses. The major would be one element of the magic that they particularly respond to, the minors being the other elements of the magic. Powerful Seasonale can have more than one major, the Gods having equal control over all.”
Her eyes suddenly bore into mine and I unconsciously shift forward on the couch, my knees touching hers. I feel a spark of electricity where we touch, even through our clothing. I long to close the distance even more.
“And me?” she asks quietly, leaning forward on her knees again, so close our hands brush.
“You,” I say softly, “are very special. I have seen signs of ice, shadow, and blood magic within you.” She winces and starts to pull away. I grab her hands in my own, feeling the rough callouses across her palms.
She stills, allowing me the blessed opportunity to touch her skin directly. How can just one touch make me want to ruin her for anyone but me?
“I don’t want anything to do with this,” she whispers, her voice shaking with emotion.
I nod, my fingers moving to slowly stroke hers. “Winter magic can seem dark and brutal, but it doesn’t have to be. With control and practice you can make beautiful shadows. Did you know I’m a Summer Seasonale?”
She quirks an eyebrow. “I kind of figured it out, what with the fire and all.”
A chuckle rumbles deep in my chest. “Summer is the counter to Winter,” I continue. “We possess light magic to your shadow magic. Shields and protection to your blood. Fire to your ice. We’re meant to temper and aid one another.”
I do not know the truth of that statement, but it feels right. Selfishly, I want her to feel connected to me, help her see she needs me as much as I do her. What better way to make her want to be near me than to tell her that I am meant to help her control the magic she desperately wants to be rid of?
I feel her hands slack within my own, but I hold firm to them. Her eyes travel across my face, searching for something. Eventually, she inhales deeply and nods. “Will you help me learn?”
