Page 56 of The Nowhere Witch

What the hell did that mean?

He grabbed his jacket and walked out.

Suddenly the game lost all of its amusement.

“He used to be a lot more fun. I don’t know what happened to him,” Oscar said, the twinkle in his eye flattened. He straightened up. “You do look good, though,” he said, without a trace of flirtation left.

“Thanks,” I replied, speaking to him like he was my brother. I wasn’t sure what game Oscar and I were playing, but it seemed to have the same rules and end time. “Have to get to work.”

He gave me a wink before he turned to make himself a coffee.

22

I walked along the perimeter of the wall I’d made, the one that might not last much longer, still in awe of what I’d done. How had I made such a thing when I couldn’t do the simplest of spells?

I trailed my hand along the surface, feeling the mark of my magic all along it, finally understanding what they meant about tracking. The more familiar you became with magic, the more you picked up on its individual flavors. It could almost be compared to cooking or baking, and everyone had their own recipe. Some people liked a little more salt, some wanted to spice things up, but we all made the dish differently.

The other thing I picked up when I was here was hate. I couldn’t seem to avoid it. There was something more going on here, and I couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Why do you hate me? And I know it’s not because of this,” I said, running my hand along the wall. “You were trying to get rid of me as soon as I got here, but why? I know you can communicate. Just tell me why.”

The crystal of the wall had a chill, but it wasn’t ice. I didn’t think it was crystal, either. I wasn’t sure what it truly was, and I’d made it. I walked farther along and shuddered. There was more heaviness leaking out, along with pure anger.

Another ten minutes of walking brought me to the newest crack, but someone had already beaten me to it. Hawk was running a hand over it. Should’ve guessed he already knew about it.

“Another new one,” he said. His attention was on the fissure that ran ten feet vertically.

I stepped closer, hating the feel of the thing beyond the wall but needing a closer look.

He stepped back, giving me room and looking as if he wanted to hear what I had to say. It was the strangest feeling, how he always seemed to have more confidence in me than I had in myself.

And then he booted me.Don’t forget that part. Don’t ever forget.

I shrugged it off, trying to focus.

“If I could make this thing, I should be able to repair it. So why can’t I?” I ran a hand up and down over the weak spot, knowing that the thing I’d contained was growing more dangerous and potent every day. “If this breaks completely, what will happen?”

Sometimes silence is comforting. This wasn’t, not with the gravity of the moment. It was like standing at the edge of the abyss of nothingness, knowing that if you shouted out, nothing would shout back and there would be no echo. It would just disappear, and perhaps you would too.

I turned around, not saying a word. I didn’t have to. My stare said it for me.

He stared back, and I didn’t like the answer I saw there.

“I know it won’t be good, but how bad?”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” He stepped closer, laying his hand near the fissure again. “I can only say what my gut is telling me, and it’s almost never wrong.”

Had his gut told him to get rid of me? If it had, I didn’t like his gut. His gut was bullshit.

“If you don’t mind, I need a little time alone here to feel out the situation,” I said to him, the same way some people tell you to go screw.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, intent on my opinion.

The man was impervious to insult sometimes. Or was he too thick to realize I’d told him to leave?

“I don’t know yet. That’s why I was looking for some time alone.”

“Most of the time, it’s better to bounce ideas off other people.”

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