Page 72 of Anchor

My second instinct was to try every single spell I’d ever memorized just to see if this thing really did give magic colors.

Since it was late and I couldn’t go back to Headquarters right now—and also didn’t want to—I went for the second option, this time properly. I took off my father’s ring and left it on the bedside table. I grabbed the bracelet in both hands and kept my eyes wide open. I whispered the words of a simple spell, one that gave me a burst of magic I could use for anything—like to flip the switch on either side to turn the lights on and off.

And just like the first time, colors burst out of me even before I finished chanting. My magic was there, and it wasn’t painful when it traveled down my arm to meet the bracelet. When it was guided by the bracelet, like it was its beacon in the dark, and released itself from my body, shaped itself like the words of my spell directed.

Not a single ounce of pain was anywhere on me, and the switch by the door flipped and the overhead light in my room turned on.

I left it like that, then called for another spell, this one simple, too, just a gust of wind blowing in whichever direction I wanted. Right now, I was just aiming it at the wall, and I watched, mesmerized, as all those colors traveled from my hand, then faded away while the wind blew, shaking the stand to the side a little bit until it died down.

Then I called up a locking spell to lock my closet door and then another to open it. Then I grabbed a notebook and called a spell to change its color, its texture, its size.

I couldn’t get enough.

Goddess, I’d missed it. I’d missed magic when it didn’t hurt, when it felt so natural, like it was a part of me, one with me, not something that I had to pull out of me violently. Right now, my magic merged with my intentions and with the bracelet in my hand and with the words of my spells as it should. The colors of it were so vivid, the flames bright and beautiful, and they did exactly what my spells commanded. It was no different thanmynormalmagic, the one I’d always had before I turned Mud, except this one had more colors than the Rainbow of the Iris Roe.

“Impossible,” I said to the room every new time I saw that it was, in fact, possible for this to exist with my own eyes. And to make sure I hadn’t lost it, I used my ring again as well, but nothing had changed. The pain returned, like my magichesitatedto be guided by this anchor, like it wasseparatingitself as it came out of me—that’s what it felt like. Like it was being cut in half or something, and that’s where the pain came from, which was odd as fuck. But the magic still came out of me in bright red flames, and it still did exactly what my spell told it to do.

“That’s enough,” I whispered to myself when I felt my energy draining so much my entire body was shaking. I’d done possibly over twenty spells in the past half hour, and that would take a toll on anyone.

When I slept that night, I kept the bracelet under my pillow, and the vivid colors that came out of me through it remained in the center of my mind’s eye.

Chapter 14

Rosabel La Rouge

Taylor was really Mud. Her family was really,reallyMud. All of them—both parents and her brother and her sister. Mud. One hundred percent—it said so on the IDD registers everywhere I looked.

And I lookedeverywhere.

My head was threatening to explode when I closed my eyes to take in a deep breath. Part of me regretted having taken that bracelet from the Vault, and another part of me was glad that I did. But the biggest part of me was just pissed off that something like that even existed, and nobody knew about it. Nobody talked about it. Nobody even wrote it down—the bracelet was possibly the only thing in the Vault that didn’t have a folder.

I’d already decided last night that I was going to return it, put it back in that drawer where I found it, before the IDD found out it was missing, looked at the cameras, and found out it was me. I’d already decided it last night, but then today I’d stalled. When I woke up late, and decided I wanted to come to work for second shift—since nobody really cared about when I was hereand nobody even gave me work to do, why not? When I decided to just take my time and wait for night to fall, for most of the staff to go home so I had less eyes on me—I stalled then, too.

When it was nine p.m. and all the people who worked first shift on the regular went home, and only a few teams were in the main cubicle area, I stalled by pretending I was making sure I was well rested, that I had energy, that I had a reason to go back into the Vault tonight. Cassie was out of the question—I would not risk her like that again. No, this time I was going in on my own.

I’d picked one of the old cases we’d been assigned as a team some four months ago, had printed out the file, and I was going to go down there with the pretense of double-checking that all items were checked in. Just some cursed objects we’d confiscated from the house of an old woman who’d made a hobby out of terrorizing the neighborhood kids for stealing her apples and ruining her orchard.

And once the guards let me through, I’d find the drawer cabinet, put the bracelet in its place, and get the hell out of there within minutes.

Goddess, so many things ran through my mind, Taylor at the very center with her wide, terrified eyes, and her hand full of colors as magic came out of her. She’d been so afraid—then excited. I’d been so afraid, too, and then more than just excited when I went back to my room and did what she did as well—used magic that had colors, plural. Exactly what magic wasn’t supposed to have.

If only I could speak to Taland.

Or—if only I couldnot speakto Taland, just be near him. That would be perfectly fine, too.

As it was, I took as much time as I needed to gather the courage to stand up, folder in hand, and make it all the way downstairs to the Vault.

I was going to be okay, I knew that. Nobody had reason to suspect anything, and the bracelet that was secured in the inside pocket of my jacket hadn’t let off any signal when I took it out. It wasn’t going to let out any signal now, either.

That’s what I told myself, and that’s what I repeated in my mind over and over again as I made my way down the stairs.

Coward,a voice in my head insisted. It came out of nowhere, and suddenly I had this conviction that I really was a coward for returning this bracelet into the Vault when I could keep it and use it and make colorful magic every single day until I died.

Fuck.Now I was having trouble breathing.

But that would be wrong, wouldn’t it? I mean, something must have been wrong with it. Something about it was off—this wasn’t normal. And I had no idea what the consequences of it would be, but…

Of course, you’re thinking about consequences. You’re always thinking about consequences—can’t just live in the moment. Always have to scare yourself into quitting any ballsy thing you know you want to do…

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