Magic Lessons by Justine Larbalestier Read Free Book Online

the connection.”
“Even so, it probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer. It was moving fast, yes?”
Jay-Tee nodded.
“It wanted something from us,” I said. “Or it was looking for something inside us.”
Esmeralda nodded. “Like magic.”
“But it didn’t take any from me,” I said, remembering when Jason Blake had touched me. “I’m sure of it. I know what that feels like.”
Jay-Tee made a face. “Yeah, it wasn’t drinking us.”
“It could be,” Esmeralda said, “that the golem was gathering information—”
“Doing a recce?” Tom asked. “So it could report back to Jason Blake? Yuck.”
“It’s possible.”
“So . . .” Jay-Tee paused. “We need something better than matches to keep it from getting back in the house. My father always used small bones.”
“Bones can store a lot of magic,” Esmeralda said.
I wondered where you were supposed to get bones from. Maybe magic-wielders collected wishbones every time they ate chicken. Or maybe they got them in a much more horrible way. Cats had small bones. I imagined babies did, too.
“What about feathers?” I asked.
Esmeralda did not seem disturbed by my question. She nodded. “Feathers are excellent. Darker colours seem best.”
“What did you put those black and purple ones under my pillow for?”
“To protect you while you slept.”
I was hard-pressed not to roll my eyes. Then I realised that neither Jay-Tee nor Tom had said anything or seemed surprised by my question. Maybe feathers really were used for protection.
Esmeralda stood up, circling the table (widdershins) until she reached the pile of boxes. She rummaged through several before pulling out a wooden box and a battered cardboard one.
She placed the wooden box next to the candelabra, removing its lid so we could all see that it was filled to the brim with a jumbled collection of stones, bones, bits of wood, and polished glass. Like all the flotsam and jetsam you might collect during a day at the beach, a beach with bones strewn on it.
“Reach in with your eyes closed and see if anything in the box pulls you towards it. Take one each.”
Tom pushed the box to me (widdershins, of course). “I already have one.” He pulled a milky green J-shaped stone out of his pocket. “It’s a jade button from China. It belonged to your great-great-great-great-grandmother Esmeralda Milagros Luz Cansino. From her favourite coat.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
I put my hand over the box and closed my eyes. My fingertips tingled, sensing a soft tug. I reached forward; my fingers touched metal. I pulled the object out, stared at it lying heavy in my hand. In the candlelight the metal shone.
A flat metal brooch engraved with a five-pointed star. In the star’s centre was a rose, each petal larger than the next. I ran my thumb along the points of the pentagram, over each petal. Fibonaccis tumbled through my head and the number phi—1.6180339887—crucial for the construction of a pentagram. I thought of my ammonite, safe with Danny. This was how holding it felt. How many times had I unknowingly used the ammonite to make magic?
I pushed the box to Jay-Tee. She looked down at it a moment, her eyes squeezed shut, and plunged her hand in, pulling out a long piece of polished wood. Jay-Tee looked at it and giggled.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
She held it out to me. “What does that look like to you?” she whispered. It was longer than it was wide, with a rounded end. We both giggled.
“It was brought over here by Raul Cansino in 1820,” Esmeralda said. “I suspect it’s much older than that.”
“But what’s it for?” Tom asked.
Jay-Tee burst out laughing and then put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said in a strangled voice. Tears were rolling down her face, she was laughing so hard. It was contagious; my giggles turned into laughter, too.
“Do you need to choose a less phallic object?” Esmeralda asked, not answering Tom’s question. “Or do you think you two can