Page 33
Story: Shifting Tides
I flexed my fingers.
“Sahad.”
The hum of magic moved through me, a warmth and tingling in the tips of my fingers. I smiled. There wasn’t a better feeling in the world than tapping into that well of power—almost like sinking into a hot tub and letting your muscles give in to the heat.
But the door stood unmoved.
“Balls,” I hissed under my breath. Not that one.
I wiped my hands on my pants again and then shook them out, swaying my hips side to side as I revved up for another try.
I only knew three spells that could work: Unlock, like with a key—which had already failed—Undo, like a button or clasp, and Open, to allow passage. I decided on the third for my next try. The roar of the next train approached, and I rushed to cast my next spell.
“Wepah,” I breathed, my pulse pounding a frantic tune in my ears.
There was a faint click, barely audible over the roar of the oncoming train. With a trembling, anticipating hand, I gently pulled the handle. It opened.
Yes! It was all I could do not to scream the word out loud.
I took one last glance around to make sure I wasn’t seen, then slipped inside as stealthily as I could manage, closing the door silently behind me.
I was surprised to find myself on another platform on the other side, although this one seemed a little cleaner and brighter. No ancient chewing gum plastered to the ground, no discarded wrappers or homeless guy hunkering down in a corner.
The rail was empty, and I wondered when the next train was scheduled to arrive and if it would be full of shifters when it did. I had no idea if they’d be friendly or hostile.
Shifters don’t take kindly to witches. The warning echoed into my mind, one of the few brief things Gram had said to me on the subject.
Apparently, the shifter world wasn’t fond of those who used magic, even though their innate supernatural abilities weren’t far from those of witches.
Dragons and phoenixes could conjure fire. So could I.
Harpies could heal. So could I—well, sort of. I could mend paper cuts, at least, which was why I needed to be at that damnschool. They could teach me how to hone these skills, whether they believed it or not.
I wanted to go to this school so bad. To learn more about who I am and have a safe place to practice my magic with like-minded people. Away from Gram, who thought using magic was practically a cardinal sin.
I just wanted to be myself. I could do that with Arya. I could be me with shifters.
A familiarwhooshsounded down the tunnel, and I glanced down the track to see a car coming.
I stepped behind a support beam and waited. The train stopped, and the doors slid open, but no other sounds came. I peeked around the column, and when I saw no one getting off, I bolted for the car. The doors closed behind me, and the train took off, headed back the way it had come.
I took a steadying breath, hoping to build my courage. A laugh bubbled out of me. A secret platform. What was this, Hogwarts?
For several minutes, the dark tunnels blurred past. Most of the transit system in the city was above-ground, and I was surprised at how much of my trek had been subterranean.
Suddenly, the view outside the windows opened up, and the tunnel I was careening down was made of glass rather than cement. And there was nothing but bright blue all around me, casting an almost magical glow all over the inside of the train.
I was on the bottom of Lake Michigan. Holy balls!
I peered out the window behind me, pressing my face to it like a kid outside a candy store. A gleaming dome sat on the lake floor in the distance. My eyes about popped out of my head, and my breath caught in my throat. Then came the laughter again, growing maniacal and uncontrollable.
“This. Is. Incredible!” I blurted to no one, and for the first time in my life, I felt like this was where I was supposed to be.
I stayed like that, even when the track curved and The Dome disappeared from sight. I barely even noticed when the train came to a stop, my mind spinning with questions.
What did it look like on the inside? What was the history? The technology? The Dome looked like some alien world, and my mind began to create an interior to match.
Finally, I stepped off and stared at the vault-like door in front of me, barring my way forward. This lock was way more high tech than the one on the platform, and the camera above the door told me I was being watched.
“Sahad.”
The hum of magic moved through me, a warmth and tingling in the tips of my fingers. I smiled. There wasn’t a better feeling in the world than tapping into that well of power—almost like sinking into a hot tub and letting your muscles give in to the heat.
But the door stood unmoved.
“Balls,” I hissed under my breath. Not that one.
I wiped my hands on my pants again and then shook them out, swaying my hips side to side as I revved up for another try.
I only knew three spells that could work: Unlock, like with a key—which had already failed—Undo, like a button or clasp, and Open, to allow passage. I decided on the third for my next try. The roar of the next train approached, and I rushed to cast my next spell.
“Wepah,” I breathed, my pulse pounding a frantic tune in my ears.
There was a faint click, barely audible over the roar of the oncoming train. With a trembling, anticipating hand, I gently pulled the handle. It opened.
Yes! It was all I could do not to scream the word out loud.
I took one last glance around to make sure I wasn’t seen, then slipped inside as stealthily as I could manage, closing the door silently behind me.
I was surprised to find myself on another platform on the other side, although this one seemed a little cleaner and brighter. No ancient chewing gum plastered to the ground, no discarded wrappers or homeless guy hunkering down in a corner.
The rail was empty, and I wondered when the next train was scheduled to arrive and if it would be full of shifters when it did. I had no idea if they’d be friendly or hostile.
Shifters don’t take kindly to witches. The warning echoed into my mind, one of the few brief things Gram had said to me on the subject.
Apparently, the shifter world wasn’t fond of those who used magic, even though their innate supernatural abilities weren’t far from those of witches.
Dragons and phoenixes could conjure fire. So could I.
Harpies could heal. So could I—well, sort of. I could mend paper cuts, at least, which was why I needed to be at that damnschool. They could teach me how to hone these skills, whether they believed it or not.
I wanted to go to this school so bad. To learn more about who I am and have a safe place to practice my magic with like-minded people. Away from Gram, who thought using magic was practically a cardinal sin.
I just wanted to be myself. I could do that with Arya. I could be me with shifters.
A familiarwhooshsounded down the tunnel, and I glanced down the track to see a car coming.
I stepped behind a support beam and waited. The train stopped, and the doors slid open, but no other sounds came. I peeked around the column, and when I saw no one getting off, I bolted for the car. The doors closed behind me, and the train took off, headed back the way it had come.
I took a steadying breath, hoping to build my courage. A laugh bubbled out of me. A secret platform. What was this, Hogwarts?
For several minutes, the dark tunnels blurred past. Most of the transit system in the city was above-ground, and I was surprised at how much of my trek had been subterranean.
Suddenly, the view outside the windows opened up, and the tunnel I was careening down was made of glass rather than cement. And there was nothing but bright blue all around me, casting an almost magical glow all over the inside of the train.
I was on the bottom of Lake Michigan. Holy balls!
I peered out the window behind me, pressing my face to it like a kid outside a candy store. A gleaming dome sat on the lake floor in the distance. My eyes about popped out of my head, and my breath caught in my throat. Then came the laughter again, growing maniacal and uncontrollable.
“This. Is. Incredible!” I blurted to no one, and for the first time in my life, I felt like this was where I was supposed to be.
I stayed like that, even when the track curved and The Dome disappeared from sight. I barely even noticed when the train came to a stop, my mind spinning with questions.
What did it look like on the inside? What was the history? The technology? The Dome looked like some alien world, and my mind began to create an interior to match.
Finally, I stepped off and stared at the vault-like door in front of me, barring my way forward. This lock was way more high tech than the one on the platform, and the camera above the door told me I was being watched.
Table of Contents
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