Breaking Magic

Chapter 22: Adam

The next couple of hours seem to pass by in a blur.

I'm absolutely starving after the huge amounts of magic I've used today, so Felix stuffs me in a taxi and we go to a nearby restaurant for lunch. It's an awkward meal, with him sitting across from me, obviously disappointed that I'm not as excited about all of this as he is.

I don't know why I'm not. I should be thrilled; this solves all of my problems.

That's what I keep telling myself over and over, but all I can think of is Merlin's staff. Merlin's staff, which I have, which I can use, and does that make me the next Merlin? Do I have to be my generation's Merlin now? Will everyone expect that of me? Will I have any choice?

I've always known I had the potential to be the most powerful magician in the world. But the prospect of actually learning how to harness my power always seemed like a pipe dream, something I'd never really considered seriously. Now that it actually might become a reality... it was like being handed the code to a nuclear warhead. And the country to the left of you wants it to be destroyed, and the country to the right wants you to use it against the guys on the left. And everyone else is just afraid of what you're capable of, even though you swear you'll never denote.

That wasn't what I wanted. That wasn't what I ever wanted.

French restaurants don't give you as big of portions as American ones do, and I'm still starving when we're done. Fortunately, they have fast food in Europe too, so Felix takes me to another place and uses that black credit card of his to buy enough food to fill me. In the meantime, he looks for the earliest flight we can get back to California on his phone.

"Okay," he says, staring at the screen and scrolling further and further down the webpage. "There's one flight that still has available seats on such short notice, for tonight at 12:35 AM. That's a god-awful time, no wonder it's the only flight with seats left. Unfortunately, it's to LAX, which will mean a hell of a long bus ride back home. That's better than nothing, though. With a little luck, Ms. Cross won't have found anything of yours to track you with yet, and we can be on a plane back home before she, or anyone else, figures out where we've been and comes looking for us."

I groan into my third burger. "Ms. Cross. She's going to lose it when I turn back up. She's going to be furious. She might be so mad that she has me expelled."

"Don't be stupid," Felix says, rolling his eyes. "You're Ms. Cross's golden boy. You literally blew up the school and she didn't expel you, did she? She might be upset that you went MIA for a couple of days, but when you show up like the prodigal son with Merlin's staff in hand, you'll probably be declared some kind of folk hero on the spot. She'll probably have a statue of you erected in the cafeteria."

I'm not convinced though, and all I can see clearly in my mind's eye is Ms. Cross's face, furious and disappointed and ashamed that I'd disobey her direct orders, after everything she's done for me.

After I've eaten my fill, we head back to the hotel to pack our things. We have nothing to do until we catch our midnight flight, apart from wait for the phone call El promised.

I put Merlin's staff under my duffle bag by the door of our room, as if by not looking at it, I might be able to avoid thinking about the implications it holds for me. Felix keeps glancing over at it and then at me as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't. I'm grateful, because I really don't want to have that conversation right now.

With what little I brought packed back up, I fall onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling without really looking at it. I'm completely drained, utterly exhausted from both the physical and emotional strain of the day. And it's hardly even two in the afternoon.