I still didn’t know what I’d done out there on the beach. Sending them out into the ocean was a simple matter of telekinesis, though I’d never controlled a human body like that before. But I didn’t know what the embers were that had shot out from my hands. They erupted from me, and immediately all five boys were unconscious.
“And then the Boys were telling this ridiculous story about drugs and they were fighting about who’d given them to us.” Borden shook his head. “It didn’t make any sense. We hadn’t taken anything. And not a single one of them remembered you being there, Margot.”
Nathaniel and I looked at each other and several long seconds ticked by.
“Why do they remember that night completely different from how I do?” Borden said. “Why am I the only one who saw you there?”
I took a deep breath, holding Nathaniel’s eyes. And it was all there. Nathaniel’s acceptance. His forgiveness. His readiness to move on with the future.
So, I let out a slow breath. And I looked back at Borden.
“Because I altered their memories,” I said. My heart was beating fast. My palms were slick with nervous sweat. “I made them forget I was ever there. I made them think they took drugs which knocked them out. You weren’t supposed to remember it. None of it. But apparently that kind of magic doesn’t work on other mages.”
He just looked at me for several long moments. One beat. Two. “Mage.”
He said the word simply. Just once. As if testing that it was real and solid.
I didn’t say anything. Because there was a threshold here.
But Nathaniel stepped forward, his hands sliding into the pockets of his slacks.
“In 1597, a man with the name Stewart was killed for being a witch,” Nathaniel said, pulling the fact out of his brain as easily as if he were reading it out of a book right in front of him. “It’s in your blood. In Margot’s. Mine. We,” he said with a nod, indicating him and me, “might not have adopted the term witch. But as it seems, you’re a mage. Just like us.”
Nathaniel crossed to his desk, where he grabbed the glamoured book on telekinesis. He laid it on the coffee table in front of Borden, with the book open to the middle. “Can you read any of it?” he asked.
Borden sat forward, his eyes casting down at the book. He took a few seconds and shook his head. “No.”
I walked closer, so I could see. Even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to see the words when they changed. “Touch it.”
Borden looked at me with uncertainty. I just nodded at the book again.
So, he looked back down. And cautiously, he reached forward, and touched two of his fingertips to the edge of the book.
“What…what kind of cheap trick is this?” Borden said, removing his hand. He touched it again, taking his hand back and forward.
“You can read it?” I asked.
Borden touched the pages again and left his hand there. He was silent for a solid ten seconds, and I watched as his eyes tracked side to side, reading.
“Yes,” he answered in awe.
And I looked back up at Nathaniel, meeting his gaze.
And we knew. There wasn’t any question.
Borden Stewart, one of the richest boys in school, the descendant of royalty, tormenting member of the Society Boys, was one of us.
Borden Stewart was a fellow mage.
Borden couldn’t lie. He told us that he didn’t think he would ever reveal our secrets. It wasn’t a promise, which actually made me feel okay. He didn’t know anything yet, so how could he promise?
So, we told him history. Nathaniel told him about the witch hunts that had happened throughout history. He told Borden about Mare McGregor, about the other mages who were killed. He told Borden about how magic seemed to disappear right around 1700. How we hadn’t found any other mages in the time that we’d discovered what we could do.
Nathaniel left my mother out of it, and I was grateful for that.
Over the course of nearly an hour, Nathaniel gave Borden a lesson in our history.
I was simply amazed as I listened to him. He would make an amazing teacher. He would be an incredible history professor, just like my father. He was calm and smart and interesting.
I knew every detail he was recounting, but even I listened with rapt interest.
The sun was sinking behind the horizon when Nathaniel came to the end of his history lesson. As the temperatures dipped, I pushed two more logs into the small fireplace. It was a beast we had to constantly feed. Considering Nathaniel lived in a room made of glass, there was no insulation factor.
I grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“So, what comes next?” Borden asked when Nathaniel was finished with his lesson. “I’ve seen some of the things you can do, Margot. And I didn’t know before today that you were one too, Nathaniel. I might have gone along with the Boys and been a prick, but I still knew you were one of the smartest guys at this school. I can only imagine what you know. When can I start learning?”
I stepped forward, keeping my eyes fixed on his. “That’s more than enough for today,” I said, our eyes locking. “I assume you’ll understand when we say we’re going to take this slow. It’s going to take more than a few words to earn our trust. This is a big deal. Our ancestors were killed. Neither of us is going to put our lives on the line for you.”
Borden looked from me to Nathaniel. He mulled my words over for a moment, contemplating.
“What do I need to do to prove myself trustworthy?” he asked. And he sounded sincere.
Nathaniel’s silence told me he was letting me take the lead on this part. Which I had absolutely no problem with. “Cut all ties with the Society Boys. The semester is about to start back up in a few days. That will be the test. If you don’t go running to the Boys and you can prove you’re not going to turn on us, we’ll start slow.”
Borden stood, and keeping his eyes fixed on me, he nodded. “I can do that.”
He couldn’t lie.
So I nodded, too. “I guess we’ll see you in a few days, then.”
He crossed the solarium, headed for the door.
“Borden,” Nathaniel stopped him. He looked back, his expression open. “It takes about twenty-four hours for the effect of the coin to wear off. Be careful with your interactions.”
Borden nodded. “Thanks for the heads up.”
And without any other words, he opened the door and walked out.
My eyes turned to Nathaniel and we stood there looking at each other for several silent moments as we were both overwhelmed by our thoughts.
“There’s another one of us,” Nathaniel said first.
“I can’t believe it’s him,” I said immediately after. “A Society Boy.” I made a noise of disgust and shook my head.
“I think we can trust him,” Nathaniel said. He stood with his hands resting on the back of the couch. “I know he’s done some terrible things, but he seems genuine.”
I glared at him, my arms folded over my chest. “I think your ability to forgive might be one of your biggest faults.”
He just chuckled at me and shook his head. He crossed the room to me, his hands going to my hips. He looked down at me from his towering height. “If forgiveness is a fault, I think we’re going to be okay in this life, Margot.”