Pastel pink magic soared out of me, flying up and away. A second later Amethyst’s violet power shot from the sidelines, stopping my magic dead in its tracks before it was even halfway to the target.
Well, damn.
“Again,” Professor Thrax said.
I gritted my teeth and set to it, repeating the steps. My magic released, it was slightly darker and faster than the first time.This is it,I thought, my hopes rising, only to be dashed once again as Amethyst’s magic dissolved my own.
“Again,” Professor Thrax repeated.
And so I went, again and again and again until only wisps of power emerged from my fingers. At that point, the professor took a long look at me and sighed.
“Miss Dane, you won’t be stopping anyone if you’re already that depleted. Join the rest of the class. Diana, come up here and partner with Miss Rhines for her test.”
I trudged back to the crowd, my stomach sinking and heat warming my cheeks. Diana met me halfway, a grin the size of Texas on her face. “Maybe you should have thought about self-examination before applying,” she whispered.
I was about to retort where she could stick her ideas about self-examination, when another voice caught my ear.
“I mean, what did she expect with pathetic pastel magic like that? As my mom says, what looks weak is weak. And that jumpsuit isnothelping matters.”
I turned just in time to see Phoebe and Tabitha laughing while a few others nodded in agreement.
“Well done, Diana!” Professor Thrax bellowed after Diana sent glittery purple magic across the room, picked up a couple daggers from the stockpile, and hurled them straight into a bullseye. “Who’s next?” His piercing green eyes scanned our group.
I slunk back. We were on our second round of testing, which Thrax was personalizing in accordance to what he thought our strengths and weaknesses were. After my earlier display, I was well aware I had more of the latter, and didn’t want to go after Diana.
“I’ll go, Professor.” Hunter Wardwell stepped forward, his sandy blond hair disheveled from the first round of testing.
Last night, it had been perfectly styled, but I had to admit that I preferred this look. And I wasn’t the only one. The girl on the other side of me sighed out loud, earning her a glare from Alex at the opposite end of the line.
Yeesh. If looks could kill, she’d be a goner.
“Hunter Wardwell, is it?” Professor Thrax asked.
Hunter nodded, and his hair flopped into his eyes, triggering a few more sighs from the ladies.
“Have you practiced any offensive or defensive magics?”
“Sort of. We don’t have a space like this to train, but my parents made me run drills.”
My heart began to beat irregularly at the mention of drills. Every other student had outperformed me in the first test. Half of them, Hunter included, had even hit the bullseye. Had everyone here seriously been training for years?
“I thought so, based on your earlier performance. Can you create a shield?”
Hunter took a huge breath and stuck out his hands. His eyes narrowed in concentration, and I wondered if he was trying to call a sword or something to him, when suddenly, wavy, dark green lines burst from his hand and wove themselves together piece by piece until they resembled a dome that settled over him.
“Cool,” Eva whispered, and I tilted my head, wondering what the hell I was looking at.
“Impressive work, Wardwell,” Professor Thrax commented. “Shield work is tricky. That you can already accomplish one is a boon . . . even if it was slow to weave together.” He paused and tapped his bottom lip with his pointer finger. “Why don’t we test its strength?”
His eyes swung to Hunter’s partner. “Thor, can you break a shield?”
The brawny boy shook his head.
Thrax looked unsurprised, and turned to the rest of the class. “Would anyone like to break Hunter’s shield?”
Once again, I wished to disappear into the crowd. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to break a shield, or make one.
My parents had always preferred that I didn’t use magic for every little thing. They said it gave me fortitude. And in my family, magic was forbidden around those who did not possess it—which was all of my family’s social circle. They reasoned that just because the government knew about magicals and welcomed us, it didn’t mean that the greater population would react the same way. They were cautious, which I understood, but now I wished that my parents had befriended more witches. Or even joined a coven. Because damn, I was feeling behind.
