It takes me a moment to respond, unsure what he’s asking. “Low magic, of course.”
“Its full name.”
I exhale, frustrated. “Low tide magic. What does this have to do with anything?”
“Everything,” he says, bending to pick up the wilted moonflower. “And where do you think that name came from?”
“It’s named for the tides,” I say, impatience lacing my tone. “For the gentle nature of low tide.”
“And how do you think the new coven came up with that name?” He twirls the moonflower between his fingers, drawing out his point as if it’s molasses, unbearably slow.
“I don’t have time for this,” I say, my voice rising, too aware that every moment we spend talking is a moment we could be rushing my magic.
“Do you truly believe our ancestors referred to their own magic with the same disdain the new coven does? Obviously not. Before the new coven was formed, our magic was called high tide magic,” he says, his words sharp.
I stare at him, shocked. I don’t understand why I’ve never heard the term before now, and it pulls at another thread in my mind.
“For the powerful nature of high tide,” he adds, mocking my words from earlier. Anger flares inside me. “Don’t they teach you anything over there?”
“I—” I start to speak, wanting nothing more than to refute his words, but I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t taught that. Why wasn’t I taught that? I close my mouth, dropping my gaze to the ground.
“To answer your original question, yes, I can practice high magic.” His tone is smug and condescending, and it makes my stomach twist with ire. Still, if what he said is true, it’s a part of our history I should have known.
I shove the thought aside for now, taking a deep breath and working up the courage to ask for what I need. “I’m in trouble,” I finally say. “I missed the rush last night, and if I don’t get rid of the excess magic in my system, I’ll die from it.” I’m amazed that I manage to keep my tone even and strong, amazed I’m able to speak at all through the fear.
“Yikes.”
My jaw drops. “Yikes? Seriously?”
“Yeah. Yikes.” He brushes his hair out of his eyes and looks at me. I feel myself withering beneath his gaze, and I make a point of standing tall and rolling my shoulders back. I raise my chin and meet his eyes.
“You know, if you ‘new witches’ practiced high magic, this wouldn’t be an issue.” He practically spits the phrase new witches. Utter disgust.
“Well, we don’t, and it is. Will you help me do my own rush or not?”
Wolfe looks up and to the right, then rests his chin on his fingers as if what I’ve asked requires a tremendous amount of consideration. Then he drops his arm to his side and meets my gaze.
“No.”
My heart beats faster, and I struggle to maintain my composure. “No?”
“No,” he says with finality.
“And why not?” I demand. “It’s your fault I’m in this mess in the first place,” I say, my voice rising.
“My fault? You’re the one who ran into me.”
“You are infuriating.” The words come out in a growl. “You know, you actually have a chance to use your dark magic for something good.”
His eyes spark at that, and he stalks toward me until he’s standing so close I can feel his breath on my skin. I force myself to stay where I’m standing.
“You have no idea what I use my magic for.”
We stare at each other for several breaths, neither of us speaking. I didn’t notice last night, but his eyes are a marbled gray, the color of the sky as a storm approaches. “Please,” I finally say, the word nothing more than a whisper, so quiet he wouldn’t hear it if not for his nearness.
“No,” he says again, softer this time.
“Why?” My eyes sting with the threat of tears. The word is a plea, a prayer.
He takes a step back. “You really want to know?”
I nod, unwilling to speak and hear the way my words tremble.
“Then come on.” He shoves the moonflower in his pocket and grabs my hand, dragging me to the shore.
I stumble behind him, trying to keep up. His hand is rough, and his grip is tight but not unpleasant. It’s urgent.
When we get to the shore where the rush happened last night, he drops my hand and points to the sea.
“That’s why,” he says, his voice angry, but all I see is water.