9. Green
1222 Words
9
Green
Jacob propped all his pillows at the head of his bed and settled in to do his reading in Lingua Veneficium. The professor had only told him to familiarize himself with the format of the spells, not assigned specific chapters for reading. The book didn’t seem to have chapters anyway. Nor was it in alphabetical order, at least not by spell wording or English translation. Rather, the book seemed to be categorized by desired spell results. Though there were no section headings.
Jacob flipped to a page where each of the spells seemed to involve lifting. Elevare was a levitation spell designed to lift physical objects. And cantus relovare was used to lift simple curses.
All of the spells included their wording, or for more complex spells, the necessary incantation, but none actually said how the magic part was supposed to work.
Inluminaquio included a note about only being able to be performed under a full moon. Spessenatura was done by drawing out the essence of the object the wizard desired to copy, thus the talisman had to be in contact with said object.
Jacob slammed the book shut and was sorely tempted to chuck it across the room. He needed to be on the fast track. To prove he should be here. To prove he was good enough for Emilia. And reading through a bunch of spells wasn’t helping.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to push the temptation of sleep from his mind, and looked out the window. The treetops swayed in the gentle breeze, shifting the stars in and out of view. The tree was the key.
Jacob got out of bed and picked up his Lingua Veneficium. He opened his door quietly and crept into the hall. He paused to listen but didn’t hear anyone moving about the house. No one had said he had to stay inside at night, but he assumed Iz wouldn’t appreciate his going out to the garden at one in the morning.
Nothing stirred but the swaying trees as he slipped out the veranda doors and onto the garden path. The moon was bright, and he easily found his way to the frail little tree.
Again he tried sitting in front of the tree, willing it to be healthy. He tried asking the tree nicely. He even tried saying a few of the spells he’d found in his book. “Adfirmare. Sanavire. Alescere!” He was sure he had the pronunciation right, but nothing worked.
Jacob was about to go back to the house and look through the shelves of books in the library to find a clue. Those books had to have something in them about dying plants.
He was tired, so tired, but determined to finish this.
Trying to decide what to look up when he got back to the house, he closed his eyes and laid his hand on the thin trunk of the tree. Suddenly, a flash of something strange flared before him, like a feeble light flickering from the center of the tree. Jacob yanked his hand away. He opened his eyes and examined the sapling.
The tiny trunk remained bent, and the leaves withering and frail. Jacob carefully placed his hand back on the tree and closed his eyes. There it was, the light in the center of the tree again, but he was prepared this time and didn’t shy away.
Ever so slowly, he became aware of another light, an energy within himself, but it burned brighter and stronger than the light in the tree. He took a breath and felt the core of energy burn hotter with the flow of air, as though a bed of hot embers were living under his lungs, feeding on the oxygen they pulled in. Tentatively, almost instinctively, Jacob pushed a little energy out into his hand.
In an instant, the light connected with the tree, as if the spark within his body and within the tree were magnets drawn together. The energy flowed out of his body, but it didn’t feel like he was losing anything. There seemed to be a source inside him so vast the amount of energy he poured into the tree was insignificant. Or else he had a limitless supply.
The light in the tree became stronger and brighter. Then gently, very gently, he released the connection. For a moment, he was afraid the tree would fade. He didn’t want to open his eyes and find the tree was still sickly, or worse, dead.
But when he opened his eyes, the tree had bloomed. It was still small, but the branches were covered in new green leaves. The tree emanated life, just like the rest of the garden. Jacob stared, amazed at what he had done.
Magic. He had done magic.
Exhaustion took over his body, weighing down his arm. He couldn’t help laughing as he lay back on the grass.
“Yet another redefinition of impossible.”
There was a snap from the tree above him, and a single branch fell, smacking him hard on the face. Jacob sat up, rubbing the sore spot on his nose. A stick lay in the grass next to him, about a foot long and almost perfectly straight. He stared for a moment. Had the tree meant to hit him? Maybe the tree was angry because it hadn’t wanted to be healed. Was there such a thing as a suicidal tree?
He held the stick up to the tree. “You want this back?” he asked, only half joking.
Then the moonlight peeked through the trees, shining down on Jacob. The stick in his hand shimmered in the pale light. It was thick on one end and slowly tapered to a point on the other. The thicker end seemed to fit perfectly in his hand, with a slight groove for his first finger to nestle in. There were no knots or imperfections, and the wood was so smooth it looked almost polished.
It was a wand. His wand. His talisman.
Jacob patted the tree as he got up to go to bed. “Thank you.” And proudly carrying his wand, he followed the moonlit path back to the house.
Bright stars filled the night, and a cool spring breeze whispered through the trees. Emilia shivered, and Dexter wrapped his arm around her, leading her deeper into the woods. Into the wilder part of the garden where no one would be able to see them from the path.
Emilia peered through the dense shadows. She could have sworn she’d heard footsteps on the path a minute ago. A rustling shook the bushes. Emilia gasped as a red fox darted past them.
“Shh,” Dexter whispered. “He won’t hurt you. You’re with me.” He smiled and kissed her on the forehead.
“Dexter, what are we doing out here?” Emilia pulled away.
“I wanted some time alone with you.” Dexter drew Emilia farther into the trees.
“Dex―”
“No arguing, Emilia,” Dexter cut her off, kissing her hair. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for our fight this afternoon.”
“Thank you.” She rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the softness of his shirt on her face. “But we aren’t allowed to be out here like this. If Aunt Iz finds out, she’ll kill us. Possibly literally.”
Dexter lifted her face and looked into her eyes. “You were on the roof with Jacob last night.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Dex, that’s different.”
Dexter kissed her. His mouth soft but possessive. “Yes,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s very different.”
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