Charmfall
Page 9

 Chloe Neill

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“The Reaper’s magic worked,” I added. “And there’s a new stone angel on the grounds to prove it.”
“Free landscaping for all,” Scout muttered.
“Maybe he just got in one last lucky shot,” Michael said. “I can’t read anything.” He looked sad, and even his curls looked a little droopier than usual.
“No ice for me,” Jill said.
“And no fire, either,” Jamie added.
We looked at Paul. “I couldn’t even beat up a puppy with magic,” he said, “not that I’d want to.” But then he grinned cheekily and flexed his biceps, which weren’t bad. “But I can still use my own talents.”
“Show-off,” Scout said with a wink. “And that brings us full circle.”
“So none of us has magic,” I said.
“It’s like nightfall, but with charms,” Michael said. “You know, the sunset of our magical careers or something. Total charmfall.”
“Charmfail,” Jason coughed.
“In addition to the charmfall or charmfail or whatever,” Jill said, “a Reaper was draining a human out in the open in the middle of downtown Chicago. He was outside, and it doesn’t sound like he was trying to hide it.”
Reapers were usually behind-the-scenes types. They snuggled up to otherwise happy teenagers and sucked their energy a little at a time, leaving behind a depressed kid and not a lot of answers for parents and friends.
“You’re thinking Reapers are changing their strategy?” Jason asked.
Jill shrugged. “I’m just saying it’s a fact we should pay attention to.”
“He was young,” I said. “He wouldn’t be losing his magic, so he shouldn’t have needed the energy.”
“Maybe they’ve figured out some way to save up the magic,” Paul offered. “Like charging a battery?”
“That would be a new one,” Jason said with a frown.
That would definitely be bad news bears. If young Reapers figured out a way to save up stolen energy and somehow transmit it to the older ones, they could build a traveling army of teenagers who could steal magic a little at a time. But if they could do that . . . “If the Reapers can save up that power somehow,” I asked, “could they do the reverse? Like, could they pull the magic out of us? Could that have caused the blackout?”
“That’s not possible,” Michael said, looking at Scout. “Is it?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” she said, but you could tell the thought made her nervous. “Saving up energy from one girl and somehow transporting it back to a sanctuary is one thing. Frankly, that wouldn’t surprise me much. But taking the power of all Adepts across Chicago? That’s different by, like, magnitudes. I’m sure there’s some reason for this, and whether it’s magical or not, it’s not something the Reapers just whipped out all of a sudden. It would take planning.”
I can’t say I was convinced. We didn’t have the most up-to-date information about Reapers and their activities in Chicago, and we weren’t out there setting the magical pace. Sometimes it felt like we were playing catch-up, trying to keep our heads above water and hoping we didn’t fall too far behind.
After that, no one said a word for a few minutes. The entire room was completely silent. Everyone looked uncomfortable, like they were wearing clothes that were a little too tight. That was when I knew this was going to be an important test for Chicago’s Adepts. Maybe the most important test of all.
We’d promised that in a few years, when our magic dissipated, we wouldn’t fight the loss. We’d let the power return to the universe instead of stealing the souls of others in a vain attempt to keep it.
It was easy to make that promise when you still had your power. When you were right in the middle of the magical high life and life without magic was years away. That decision would be a lot harder, or so I figured, when you were beginning to weaken. Sure, I hadn’t had firespell long, so its absence felt more familiar than having it. But wasn’t it going to be hard for the ones who had gotten used to it—who’d lived with the hum of energy longer, who’d been able to change the world around them with the flick of a hand or a few words of a spell? Wasn’t it going to be hard to simply shut that door and walk away?
Adepts usually talked as if the decision would be easy. And sure, there were consequences to being a Reaper that would also be staring them down—stealing souls, for one. But looking at their faces today, they were beginning to realize that the consequences of giving up their lives as Adepts were going to be harder to bear than they’d thought.
The Enclave door opened. Daniel walked inside, and from the look on his face, he didn’t have any good news, either. We did the roll call and filled him in on our magical deficiencies.
“I spoke with Marceline Foley,” he said. Scout and I exchanged a look. Daniel and Foley were close. He’d known Foley’s daughter before she’d been killed, which I guessed was why he’d been hired to teach studio art.
“Lisbeth Cannon is going to be okay. Marceline found her family, and they’re going to help her get back on track.” He looked down at a piece of paper in his hand. “The Reaper’s name was Charlie Andrews. He’s part of Jeremiah’s crew. Comes from a single-parent family, and his mom works nights. She gets some kind of stipend from the sanctuary to help them out, so she’s gung ho on the Reapers. Thinks her son’s a superhero.”