Mom said Dad and I looked like gender-swapped copies of each other, especially when we were angry. I guessed I could see the resemblance. We both had the freckled complexions of redheads, even though our hair was more brown than red. Our faces lit up like fire trucks when we were mad. And we were both intimidatingly tall--though six foot looked taller on me than it did on him.
But when it came down to intimidating people, I guessed I had him beat. According to Kyton, my sharp canines made me look like a vampire.
"That's the fifth interview I've had this morning, and they all ended when they heard I was a Hemlock." Dad shoved his phone in his pocket. "What were you saying?"
"How can we afford college?" I waved at the brochures. "I thought you didn't want me to have to get student loans, so I was going to work this year or something."
He nodded. "Your grandparents are paying. They'll have the final say on which school you attend, but they want you to pick out your favorites."
I glanced through the brochures. None of them were magic schools. Actually, they were pretty much the opposite. Half of them boasted that 0% of their student population were Otherworlders, and the other half went even further, claiming they employed rigorous testing methods to keep Otherworlders and witches out of their schools. Rothworth's Academy was the worst of the lot. The brochures didn't say it, but I'd heard most witch hunters graduated from there.
"Grandma and Grandpa picked these out?" I asked.
"No, your mom did." He seemed to notice my displeasure. "With your grades and test scores, you'll have no trouble getting into any of these schools."
"But the witch thing-"
"Most people have witch blood in them. If these schools kept out all genetic witches, they wouldn't have any students. I'm sure they only keep out practicing witches with familiars. You'll be fine."
"Right." I wished getting accepted into a school like Rothworth's was all I had to worry about. It would've been simpler that way. As it was, attending any of the schools in the brochures would make my parents happy, but it would make me miserable. I had to change their minds.
Convincing them to let me go to a magic school by next month was a fool's dream, but maybe they would be okay with a normal, relatively non-biased school. I could always have Grandma's magic lessons after college classes.
Dad took out his phone again and called someone, probably another interviewer. Faint hold music emanated from the speakers. He started pacing, and I turned back to the college brochures.
An uncomfortable thought occurred to me. I'd skipped a grade in middle school, so I was only seventeen. But my birthday was next month. As an eighteen-year-old, I would be a legal adult. My parents couldn't technically force me to do anything. My grandparents would probably help me with my money issues if my parents cut me off.
Of course, it wasn't that simple. My parents drove me crazy sometimes--basically whenever magic was involved--but I still loved them. They'd always been there for me, no matter whether I'd broken an arm falling out of a tree or won a solo in a choir concert. I didn't want to lose them.
Why couldn't they just see reason? They were trying to keep me safe from something that wasn't any more dangerous than driving a car on the highway. Mom might never understand that on her own, but maybe if I convinced Dad, he could make her lean my way.
"Are you still on hold?" I asked in a low voice.
Dad turned back to me and shook his head. "They just confirmed my name and hung up. What do you need?"
"Well, I don't think-" I chose my words carefully. "I'm not sure if I would fit in at a non-witch school. I don't have a familiar, but you and Mom didn't do any magic at our old house, and that didn't stop the witch hunters from coming after us. Won't it be even worse at a school where everyone's against me?"
He shook his head. "We're not sure the fire was caused by witch hunters. It could've been faulty wire-"
"Faulty wiring?" I bit the inside of my cheek. Shouting wouldn't help anything, even if I was one thousand percent sure that our house hadn't burned down by accident. "The neighbor said they saw a bunch of people in red cloaks running away before the fire. Who else could they have been?"
He nodded slightly, as if he couldn't let himself fully agree because Mom might come around the corner at any minute. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Maybe if I pushed just a little more, I could make him understand.
"If the hunters would do something as insane as burning our house down, how can we believe what they say about magic?" I waited for a flicker of understanding in expression before continuing. "Maybe magic's not that bad. If we'd had a fireproofing spell on our house, the fire never would've burned anything."
He furrowed his eyebrows. "How do you know about fireproofing spells?"
Prip. He definitely looked less convinced than before.
I shrugged one shoulder. "I just- I mean, it's just kind of obvious, right? Why wouldn't there be a fireproofing spell?"
"I suppose so." Glancing toward the doorway, he lowered his voice. "Has your mother told you why she's against magic?"
I hardly believed my ears. Mom was always talking about the problems with magic and the people who practiced it, but her personal experience with magic was beyond taboo. No one in our family talked about it.
"No, but doesn't it have to do with her parents? Isn't that why she never talks about them?"
He nodded. "It's not my place to tell their story, but suffice it to say, magic played a part in their deaths."
I hadn't known they were dead; I'd assumed they were just very estranged. What had happened to them? Had they accidentally blown themselves up with a malfunctioning cauldron, or was it more like they got into a witch's duel and lost?
Dad distracted me from my thoughts by clearing his throat. "Do you know why I stopped using magic?"
It was hard to imagine him using a spellbook or broomstick instead of an iPhone or taxi, but I knew he must have at one point. My grandparents raised him around magic. He'd even planned to go to a magic college before he met Mom.
"Wasn't it because of Mom?" I asked.
Shaking his head, he let out a low whistle. "She was part of it, but I didn't give up magic for her. These days, magic is more dangerous than it's worth."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "It's not-"
"Let me finish." He held up a hand. "On its own, magic is only a type of energy. People are the ones who make it dangerous. Misuse or mistakes can cause serious damage and injury." He raised his eyebrows as I opened my mouth to argue. "That's not enough of a reason to give it up; a gun could do the same thing. But magic can be more deadly than that. Practicing witches receive worse treatment in hospitals and wind up murdered more often--especially by non-witches."
He jerked his chin at his phone. "Even if you avoid all that, practicing magic makes it almost impossible to get a job. Being part of a family of practicing witches is almost as bad."
Sitting down in a nearby armchair, he blinked away a little moisture in his eyes. "Even in college, I didn't want that for my future family. My parents and brothers had magical talents that could provide for them and keep them safe, but I was only good with numbers. My meager spell-casting and potion-making skills weren't worth putting my family in danger. I had been thinking that for a long time before I met your mother, but she finally convinced me to stop using magic."
I didn't know what to say. I could understand why he'd given up magic. Still, it was different for me; I loved magic, and I was good at it. Besides, I liked living here in Sorciereville. Half the town had magic, and the other half used charms and potions made by the magical half.
"What if I-"
"Before you say something that might incriminate you, you should know that you're already in trouble for leaving the estate." His eyes narrowed as I started to protest. "Leo tracked your scent past the barrier. By the look of you, your little 'walk' didn't go well. Can you see why your mother worries so much?"
I nodded. The dragon in the woods definitely validated one of Mom's worries. It still didn't mean all magic was evil, though. But I held my tongue. It looked like Dad had more to say.
"You know why I gave up magic, and I think you should do the same. It would make your future a lot easier." He obviously noticed my stubbornness, because he chuckled. "But I know you're almost eighteen. If you want to try simple, safe magic, I won't stop you. Though, I do insist that you bring someone experienced with you when you do. Even simple spells can be painful if you don't know what you're doing."
I nodded again, still unsure of what to say. He always went along with Mom. Why was he saying this now?
"You should get cleaned up before your mother gets back." He handed me the pile of papers. "Look through these when you get the chance."
"Sure." I took the papers and left the room in a daze. Before, the only question I'd had was how to practice magic without losing my family. Now, I wasn't even sure if I should practice magic. All I knew was that I only had a month to decide. According to Grandma, if I didn't bond with a familiar by my eighteenth birthday, I would lose my magic for good.
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