Small Town, Big Magic by Hazel Beck

Author:Hazel Beck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQ Fiction
Published: 2022-07-30T19:31:52+00:00

15

Jacob doesn’t say anything at first. His complexion is slowly regaining a healthy hue. I want to ask him what it’s like to heal someone. To lose something in the process. I want to somehow make sense of the gravity of what he does.

But there are so many other things to deal with here.

“What magic, specifically?” Jacob asks. His hands don’t leave my shoulders.

I close my eyes as if that will give me the answer to his question. It’s not like the memories washed over me in some kind of catalog. It’s more that when I think about things he’s mentioned, I can now bring up the memories that include magic.

“I remember the things you’ve told me, mostly. The toad and pond incident. Talking about covens. You helping me...bring a plant back to life?”

He nods, his gaze intense. “What about the pubertatum? The obliviscor?”

I search back, but graduation is still very much unmagical. Rebekah disappearing is just her running away. My grandmother... I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of something my grandmother would have showed me, taught me, said to me about witches. I remember what I saw in the bookstore, but most of the other things that come to mind are normal things. Breakfasts together, walks along the river. Sometimes I think I can almost see the spark of something underneath the memory, but it fades away when I try to focus on it.

I shake my head. “No, not yet. Maybe it will come back over time.”

“I can bring more back. If you let me. I was fighting it off.”

And hurting in the process. I want my memories back like I want my next breath, but all I can see is Jacob pale and weak when he tries to save me. Using everything he has, everything he is.

I can’t stand the thought that he would take on physical pain because of me. For me. It’s an awful thing to watch the people you care about physically hurt because of you, and as much as I want my magical memories back, I can live without them if this is what they cost. I’ve already lived without them.

“Maybe,” I say, because I know he wants to help me. “Not now. It was too much. You went all gray again.”

“I’m fine.”

“Now you are,” I point out. I get to my feet because I’m afraid if I stay seated with his hands on my shoulders, looking at me like he’d fight the whole world to give me this one thing—knowing he would—I might give in.

He gets to his feet too, back to his normal self. Tall and strong and in control. Whatever he lost, he’s regained. Maybe I could let him get in there and fight back that fog—

But what if he lost?

I can’t have that.

“The pain is temporary, Emerson.” It’s like he’s reading me again. “Pain can be withstood. It can be worth the cost.”

“Ellowyn said that too,” I say, though my voice comes out like a whisper. Pain is the price, she’d said.

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