“I’ve waited for this.” I tore the wrapping aside. Shimmery paper piled around me. Beneath it all, there was a cardboard box. I shook it. The weight was right. I shook it again. The sound was right. Thinking of all the latest games I’d play, I ripped the box open. At first, I saw the PlayStation as expected. Then I saw the jade tablet, and frowned as I took it out. Was this a joke?
“Uh...thanks.” I turned the tablet over. Writing ran over it, but the letters weren’t any I recognized. “What is this?”
Mom and Dad exchanged a glance.
“You’re sixteen now,” Mom said. “Your powers should be acting up.”
I snorted. “Very funny.”
“I’ve waited for this.” When Dad spoke, he sounded as I had—like he was anticipating something.
“Seriously, what’s the joke?”
“It’s not a joke!” Mom’s eyes flashed. “You have been raised in an ordinary suburbia. But you are not ordinary. None of us are! We couldn’t tell you until you were ready.”
“What, I’m a wizard?”
“Something like that.” Dad’s moustache quivered. “Don’t get too excited. You’ll be lucky if you can light so much as a candle within a year.”
“So there’s no PlayStation?”
Dad reddened. “PlayStation? I’ve just told you you’re gifted, and you’re worried about a damn game console?”
“Rory.” Mom placed a hand on his arm. She met my gaze. “He doesn’t believe us.”
“I don’t think he-”
“But you must remember when your parents told you!” She laughed. Mom had always been “Bohemian Goth,” draped in long black hair, long black skirts, long black shawls, and long black necklaces. That didn’t make her a-
“You’re both magical? Oh, sure. Come on. If you were mages or whatever, I would have seen it! You can’t hide magic!”
“It was subtle magic.” Mom shrugged. “I’d pull out the candle lighter, and then snap my fingers when you weren’t looking. I’d renew the milk so it didn’t spoil. I’d make our garden bloom longer. Of course, you must have noticed how old Daisy is.”
“Lots of cats make it to twenty one.” I set the jade on the coffee table. “That’s not magic. She’s healthy!”
“She doesn’t have any grey hair!” Dad shook his head. “You really never suspected? By the time I was ten, I thought something was up!”
“Yeah.” I snickered. “But you’re a nerd. Your room is still papered over with Tolkien quotes.”
“Hm, well, sure. But that’s not the point!” Dad slumped forward. He studied his knees, drumming his fingers on them. He glanced up, and I grimaced. He exchanged a glance with Mom; she put a hand on his arm. He nodded. “Well, I guess we were pretty careful.”
I looked between them. “Show me.”
“I’ve been meaning to paint the wall.” Smiling, Mom circled the room. She held up her hands and sang. Golden light bloomed from her fingers. Like mist, it drifted over to the walls; expanding and glowing, it covered the green. When the light drew back, the walls were purple.
“Halloween colours.” Dad rolled his eyes. “You’ll remember when they were orange?”
“You changed them when I had that sleep over. I remember.” I frowned. “I did remember thinking it was strange, how fast you’d managed to paint them. And then, when there was no new paint smell...”
“That’s what we forgot!” Mom smacked a hand to her forehead. “Rory was insisting we’d forgotten a small detail, but neither of us could think what it was! Oh well. We can remember it now.”
Mom performed a second spell. When the light drew away from the walls, they left a scent in the air of new paint.
“What happens if a kid finds out early?”
“They get their memory wiped of course.” Dad grinned. “But we never had to do that with you. Never!”
“Most parents have to do it two or three times. But then, you were never like other kids. Not as nosy, or curious. When you said you were going to bed, you meant it.”
“You mean I was a nerd.” I chuckled. “Like Dad.”
“Nah, I was a nerd. But I was a troublemaker. My friends and I used to swap marijuana in the locker rooms after gym. Then we’d sneak out, and Lenny would snatch a bottle of vodka from his dad’s locker. Lenny’s dad was a drunk. Had dozens of bottles. And we took dozens. He never missed ‘em!”
Mom’s brows knitted together. “Don’t tell him that!”
“Then there was the incident with the mushrooms in the grocery store!”
“Rory, stop.” Mom blushed. “He has to prove himself, you see. He’s been dying to show you spells early, just so he could prove what a great wizard he is!”
“Me?” Dad’s voice was too innocent. “Nah, I just use it to fix the car. You might have noticed we never had to take it in for repairs! And it’s still got that new car smell. Drives your mother crazy, but I enjoy the smell of freshly upholstered leather.”
Mom sighed.
I chuckled. “You guys are weirdos. Even without the magic thing. Or are all mages...eccentric?”
“Most of ‘em are nut bars.” Dad ran a hand through his hair. “I could tell you about Mrs. Snider. She used to shave herself bald and dance under the moonlight naked.”
“That old lady who comes over with all the tattoos? She’s a witch too?”
“That’s the one. The Naked Dances are considered outdated now, but I walked in on her doing-”
“Rory.” Mom shook her head. “No.”
“Another time.” Dad winked. Mom muttered something under her breath. Dad pointed to my tablet. “It’s not a PlayStation. But it will act as a...circuit for your power.”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘conduit,’ dear.”
“That’s what I said! It boosts magical abilities. Makes spells more powerful. And you can draw power from it too, so you don’t tire out so much.”
“What can magic do? Can we be immortal?”
“That’s very advanced magic.”
“You made Daisy stay young.”
“Daisy will still die someday. I just prolonged her life. Her lifespan is that of a human. But she will age. Very gradually.”
“But it’s possible.” I looked between them. My heart sped up. “And my illness-”
“Yes, it’s possible. You may even be able to slow the growth. But we’re not Masters. Very few wizards are. You’d need someone like Merlin to cure you.”
“Or I could become like Merlin.” I squared my shoulders. “I could cure myself.”
Mom and Dad bowed their heads. Mom opened her mouth, but Dad shook his head. She took his arm. When she leaned into him, her eyes closed. After a few minutes, she left. I heard the door to her bedroom close; that was never a good sign.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. For your sake. I never wanted to give you false hope.”
“But I could be a great wizard someday!”
“You have as much hope of being a great wizard as the average person does of becoming an astronaut, a hockey player, or a famous actor! It’s not impossible, but the chance is so rare!”
“I have to try.”
“I suppose you do. But don’t let her know how hard. She was scared this would happen.”
“I don’t want to die, Dad. Not just...not now. But never. There’s too much I want to do.”
“I’ll be happy if I make it into my seventies.” Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Tomorrow, we’ll start your lessons.”
“I don’t have to go to a special school, do I?”
“Oh, no. That’s just a trope. You’ll be learning from us. And if you’re exceptional...well, there is a college which takes in the most skilled, but they only take five students a year. Students who graduate are Masters.”
“And none of them could heal me?”
“They will if you have two million dollars to offer them.”
“What?”
“Most don’t want to be doctors. They set high prices so people will leave them alone. Think about it. They would be barraged with orders. And then they’d never be able to use their abilities for anything else.”
“But maybe, if I was a Master too, they’d want to help out a colleague.”
“Forget tomorrow.” Dad smirked. “We’ll begin training today.”
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