If You Must

All That We Are Is Astonished

Simon

"We're going to do what?" I ask, more confused than ever.

"You're going to conjure something," Penny replies, still not really answering my questions.

"Like with the whiteboard?" Penny turns around, clearing a space on the cluttered countertop.

"Sort of... But more difficult. You're going to conjure a cake," she says, not looking at me. My brow wrinkles.

"Isn't food magic impossible?" Penelope finally looks at me, raising one eyebrow.

"So is doing magic without a wand, Simon." I chew on my lip, thinking. Considering her reply.

"Alright. So what do I do?" I ask. Penny rolls her eyes and heaves a dramatic sigh.

"Do I look like the most powerful mage our world has ever seen?" I grin at her.

"Yes?" She punches my arm in response.

"Just do whatever you did with the whiteboard, you wanker!" Laughing, I nod my head once.

"Fine, fine."

I take a few steps away from her. Clearing my throat, I half-close my eyes and force myself to concentrate. Picture what I want in my head. Pull it into being.

Opening my palms, I pull at a feeling, a supernova hum of power deep in my chest made of pure air and magic. A weight settles gently into my open hands after hardly any time at all. For a moment the frosted surface shimmers gold, but the glow fades quickly, leaving me holding a warm chocolate cake.

Penelope gasps, those brown eyes wide and staring in awe at the cake.

"Nicks and Slick, Simon..." She breathes. I don't answer. I can't. I'm staring, dumbfounded, at the cake I just pulled out of the air like a storybook magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. My magic doesn't even feel drained in the slightest bit, and I don't feel overheated. And I don't feel like I've just torn another hole in the Magickal Atmosphere-- like when we rescued Baz from the Enenra all those months ago, it feels like I'm a part of the Magickal Atmosphere itself. Like I can use as much magic as I need to without causing any damage. Like I am magic.

A small, shocked, "Oh..." is all I can manage.