Chapter 34
My classes go pretty well the next day. It’s a typical school day at The Isle. In Magical History I learn about half-witches. They have limited abilities and are able to get drunk.
I discuss this with Damien who says it isn’t possible for me to be a half--witch. If I were a half--witch, I wouldn’t be a Suppliant. It especially doesn’t make sense because of how much power I can wield. I’m still not convinced, but I drop it. I figure that Damien knows more about magic and abilities than I do.
I decide to skip out on lunch and head to the library instead. I want to do some thinking about my parents. Damien joins me, while Zeke meets Trish and Anna in the cafeteria.
I’m sitting in my favorite spot with Damien when I decide that I will make a list of the abilities I should have.
I start with my mom’s side. It should be easier since she had to be a Suppliant. I don’t know if she came from the Light or the Dark, so I proceed to list the abilities that only a Witch could produce.
Through research I know that my visions are from my mom. Witches have the power of sight, or seeing things that others can’t. I also know that hearing Damien and Zeke’s thoughts is part of being a Suppliant.
Witches typically can cast spells and use potions. I’m sure that I can do both, though I haven’t tried. I’m doing well in my Potions class, with some minor successes.
Another skill that can come from Witches is necromancy. I know that I have the power to bring the dead back to life because of the incident with Professor Dylan. The thing that bothers me is that it’s only used by the Dark. I did some more research and wasn’t able to determine if it could be used by the Light.
I’m starting to get frustrated when I decide to switch gears. I’m not sure who or what my father could be. I know that I have been doing really well with learning combat, which surprises me. I seem to be picking up on it very quickly. Lately, I’ve been getting some punches in and blocking most of Damien’s blows.
I’m still not sure if that could be from my father or just dumb luck. I need to test my powers and find out what I can do, and what I can’t. That’s the only way to narrow down the list to find out who my birth parents are.
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and I gather my things with Damien. I guess all of this will have to wait until later.
...
“When you kick, you have to put your body into it, Lay.” Damien sends a kick toward the punching bag that makes it vibrate back and forth about six inches. I am sure that if I kick it, I will end up with a broken ankle. “Give it a try, and watch your form; we don’t need any more injuries from you,” he says. I need to think positively if I’m going to do this.
I brace myself and plant my left foot. I swing it around and kick the bag with my shin on my right leg. Pain radiates up into my thigh. To my surprise, the bag moves.
“Ouch, that stings.” I recoil to nurse my aching leg.
“That was a good attempt, for your first time.” Damien smiles at me.
I glance at Zeke who is leaning against the tree with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.
Anger flares through me. Why are they smiling and smirking at me? Do they think it’s funny? They know that I’m running out of time, and I don’t find it that funny.
“Try again. This time, take a step before you plant your foot.” Damien demonstrates it again. This time I watch more carefully.
It feels like he’s going in slow motion. His fists come up in a defensive stance. He takes a step leaning all of his weight on his left foot. He lets his right shin hit the bag. It’s no surprise when the bag flies, rocking the tree branch that it’s attached to.
This time when it’s my turn, Damien comes up behind me and puts his hands on my hips to direct them. It’s next to impossible to focus when his hands are on me.
I kick toward the bag and miss all together. Zeke bursts out laughing.
I start to get really frustrated, Zeke’s laughter rubbing me raw. I know that he’s mocking me. What a jerk. He thinks this is so funny. I will show him.
Anger takes over as I approach him with the most innocent stare that I can muster. He takes a step toward me and drops his arms. I see a moment of weakness and take it.
I take a step, plant my foot, and let the kick go. The look of surprise is in his eyes for just a second as my kick hits his ribs and sends him sprawling on the ground. Elation flares through me.
“I did it.” I glance at Damien and smile. I look back at Zeke and bat my eyes with a sweet smile. “Sorry.”
Zeke mumbles something as he stands up to dust the dirt off his clothes. “That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t caught me off guard.”
Of course, he doesn’t give me any credit. I knew that he wouldn’t. I can’t hide my giggle. He just can’t admit that I showed him up.
“Try again. Follow through this time.” Damien stops smiling, getting back to business.
“What do you mean, follow through?” We aren’t playing baseball.
“When you hit the bag, don’t stop the force. Keep pushing, like it’s not there,” he says.
This is easier said than done. I try a few more times and can actually see some progress.
“Now let’s try mixing it into combat with the skills that you’ve already mastered. Zeke, you’re up.” Damien steps back as Zeke and I circle each other.
My arms come up as Zeke throws a punch. I block it and jab him back simultaneously. He takes a step back and huffs out a breath.
We circle each other again and I throw a punch at him. This time, he is prepared and catches my fist, twisting it around behind my back. Pain shoots up my arm. It feels like he’s breaking it.
I cry out and try to look up a Zeke, but I can’t move. I feel his mouth near my ear. “Do you give up yet?” Adrenaline is pumping through me. I’m wiggling in his arms. Each move I make pulls on my arm more, making it more unlikely that I can get out.
“Never,” I say, resorting to stomping on his insole. He loosens his grip, and I turn on him. I have just enough range of motion to break his grip and free myself.
I take a moment to collect myself and focus. Zeke is already moving in for another attack. I see the kick forming a second before his foot leaves the ground. I dodge out of the way just in time.
Zeke puts so much force into it that he loses his balance and leaves an opening for me. I charge him, landing a blow to his midsection. I know that I have to incorporate a kick for it to be a successful fight, so I take my stance. I yank my foot off the ground as he’s standing up and put as much force into the kick as I can.
He tries to block the kick, but it’s too late. It knocks him back, and Damien declares me successful.
“That was good, Lay. You’re getting better much faster than we anticipated. It seems that you have really good muscle memory,” he says. The compliment makes me blush. Zeke and I shake hands and head back to the punching bag and the shade for a quick rest.
After a few minutes of rest and a cold drink of water, Damien insists that we continue working on the kick until it’s perfected.
“Next time, use your leg strength more. Don’t forget to follow through. Keep your eyes on the target. Don’t look at the ground.” His nitpicking starts to grate at my nerves.
Every kick I let fly, Damien has to tell me how to correct it, and I get sick of being told what I’m doing wrong.
“Back off and just let me try. You’re really starting to get on my nerves, Damien,” I push him away when he tries to correct my form again.
“I’m just trying to help, Layla. If you don’t get this right, then you could end up hurt.” He’s looking serious which pisses me off more.
“Do you think I don’t know that? Ever since I’ve been here, you have been criticizing my every move. Can you just shut up and watch?” I yell at him. Frustration is coursing through my blood.
I can feel his anger well up. “You have a small wind
ow of opportunity to train here, and you need to work harder!” I’m startled at his raised voice. This is the first time Damien has ever yelled at me, and I don’t like it.
“If you would stop jabbering, then I could practice more!” I throw back at him. I can feel the tension in each word. I know that I’m being irrational, but I’m hot and sticky and just want to get this over with. I can only do that if he shuts up and lets me try.
“If you would just listen, then you could have been done a long time ago,” Damien says, taking a step closer to me, his eyebrows pinched together.
“If you don’t stop it, I am going to tie you to the tree!” I’m furious. I know where he’s coming from, but he’s going about it in the wrong way.
“I would like to see you try,” he speaks coldly. That does it. I was already furious. My power overtakes me. If I just had a rope, I would show him.
I see the air waver for a fraction of a second. I feel something hard hit my hand and look down. My first thought is that Damien is trying to hold my hand. The thought only pisses me off more. I don’t want to think about him touching me when I am this mad.
My thoughts freeze and my mouth gapes open when I see it sitting in my hand.
Damien and Zeke follow my gaze, and the looks on their faces mirror mine.
“Where in the hell did that come from?” Damien takes a step back.
“I don’t know. I was just wishing that I had a rope, and it appeared,” I say.
“You can manifest items?” Zeke sounds thrilled. As if this were something he had never seen before. “That’s a skill that most people can never accomplish. It shouldn’t surprise me, but wow.”
Damien is still standing with his mouth hanging open, and Zeke is hovering over me. He takes the rope and starts pulling on it. “It’s real,” he says, with surprise.
I don’t know what to say. “How can someone just conjure up an item? I felt the magic, but I didn’t know what I was doing. I let my power take control,” I say.
“That’s amazing.” Zeke unwinds the rope to test its strength.
“Lay, it seems that you have more powers than we originally thought. We should test your powers. We need know what you can do,” Damien speaks up.
“I agree. We need to know what she has to work with. We should set up a test.” Zeke hands the rope to Damien who carefully examines it.
“I’m willing to do it if it will help me find my parents,” I say.
“It’s not an easy task. I can set it up for you, but it will take hours, and you need your rest beforehand. I will talk to the Dean tonight and clear us for the test tomorrow during classes,” Damien says, dropping the rope to walk away.
I guess this is the end of the conversation. I’m not sure that I’m up for hours of torture to find out what I can do, but I really want to find my parents.