Page 46 of Overwhelmed By Magic

I nod as I run my fingers across the pages, wishing I had a pen or paint to cover the walls in this language. It’s gorgeous with its flowing strokes and swirls, a beauty in and of itself. I began writing in the air, hoping that Ambrose can follow the lines. Pink essence trails behind, lingering for just long enough that Ambrose can make out the characters.

“Magic? That’s not possible.”

“What do you mean?”

“That symbol is for magic. The next one is for essence. You just wrote that they are the same thing, in a sense. What else?”

I turn to look at Ambrose, really look at him, his expression is a bit tortured and he’s now running his fingers down the side of my neck.

I write a few more symbols in the air, trying not to worry about Ambrose’s presence. I’m tempted to touch my mark again but the mage isn’t hurting me and I think taking off would give him the wrong impression, especially if my command to behave only works in proximity. As much as I like the guy, I don’t really want his hand around my throat again.

“Ah, so everyone has magic? That’s interesting but essence is the physical manifestation of it. Our auras and abilities.”

I frown. “So, we’re all Magila?”

“I’m not sure. The next symbols talk about how essence is free and shouldn’t be contained. And then, you’re describing a spirit-type. A wraith, I believe.”

My blood runs cold at the mention of a creature I’ve only heard in nightmarish stories meant to scare kids into going to sleep. I furiously write more symbols in the air, drinking in every word until the truth becomes clear.

Every single ability and outburst and even down to the color of his aura—Harlow is a wraith. A spirit-type that can slip through the planes of existence. A spirit-type who has an essence that can be as cold as ice and a touch as firm as a real person. He exists in every plane and none of them at the same time.

It’s a breath of fresh air knowing that I’ve figured it out and terrifying at the same time. Wraiths harbor dark energy, essence ruled by emotions. And with access to the void, as Harlow calls it, wraiths aren’t just dangerous. They’re the very monsters so many people write into books.

A shiver crawls up my spine at how the world is going to see him, now. They hated him when he was a spirit. My mother wanted him nowhere near me even though he saved my life. As a wraith? I’m sure the public would crucify him.

Why am I even thinking about outside?

I reach over to my mark and rub it furiously, hoping that it’ll work now that Ambrose’s essence has calmed. I need Harlow to know–fuck, I need them all to know about this. That that room holds more than knowledge but the truth of everyone’s designations. Waltzing outside and down the hall might be a death sentence so I just wait, hoping that everyone will turn up sooner rather than later.

All those years of trying to figure out what Harlow was and I’ve found it.

“They’re coming, little human. I can feel it.”

Finding a seat beside Ambrose, he weathers a small smile, reaching up to touch the mark on my neck, another round of shivers crawling up my spine. I still haven’t seen it but I can’t imagine it’s any less noticeable than the other marks I have.

The mage’s touch begins to wander, moving to the cuff of my shirt and rolling it up enough to see the marks on my wrist from four years ago. “These symbols look like they should mean something. They have meaning but not in this order. The lines are all wrong as if someone who wanted to say something but didn’t know the language as they tried to write it.” If someone was writing through the veil, that would make sense. “Let’s wait for the others to get back so I can rip Liz apart for stealing my amulet.”

I manage a small smile, fingering the other symbols. I want to know everything but I’m satisfied for the moment with what I’ve found.

“Are you scared of me, little human?”

His voice trembles as he asks, his fingers still roaming up and down my arm waiting for my answer. I should be terrified of a man who nearly tried to kill me for answers. I should be horrified that his essence is powerful enough to override his control. I should also be wildly uncomfortable that one command from me settled his entire being.

“I should be,” I finally push out and he tenses. “But I’m not. I’m not sure what Harlow will do to you but if this happens again… I won’t be sitting here next to you, using you as my protective shield from the world.”

30

RUMI

When Ambrose doesn’t return after dragging Skye out of the room and Harlow shows up, I know something’s wrong. The fact that we’re all feeling a sort of pull to the missing two but haven’t actively been pulled in any direction tells me that they’re in the mage’s room. It’s coated in something that no one really understands but it keeps his essence in check.

That also means his amulet is gone.

Fucking hell.

I’m halfway down the hallway but Harlow is faster, the four of us bursting inside of the room. My gaze immediately falls on the handprint around Skye’s neck. I want to believe that Ambrose saved the human from someone else but I’ve known the mage for a hundred years. That print is his.

I’m not fast enough with my response, though. Harlow is already in front of Ambrose, fisting his shirt as he snarls in the mage’s face. “How fucking dare you harm Skye. What was all that shit about protecting him? Just a joke?” He strategically placed himself between Ambrose and Skye, Harlow’s body angled to keep the mage from even meeting the human’s eyes.

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