She didn’t think she could breathe. Her chest was tight, too tight, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sickly greenness of her fingers. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. The light was starting to spread, to coat her hands in a sticky paste. Shaking her hands away from her face, Haggie wished the magic away.
It was still there.
Stumbling to her feet, trying not to touch anything, she hurried to the washbasin in the corner of her sister’s room. Luria would be back soon. She couldn’t let Luria see how she’d failed again, how she couldn’t keep control. Luria was with the tutor now, learning how to build her own ashy sparks of the stuff. It flashed and banged and gave Luria a steely harshness to her face. The sparks had even caught Luria’s sheets on fire once. Haggie had cried while Luria stomped it out. Magic was heat and danger and change to Haggie. To Luria, it was fun. Thrusting her glowing, burning hands in the washbasin, Haggie splashed water down the front of her dress. She tried her best not to scream while the water hissed at the sudden heat. She hated magic. Let Luria have it all.
It was still there.
Haggie left her hands in the water for several seconds, until her fingers began to burn from heat again. Water never worked, but it could slow the magic down. It could help until Luria got here. Usually, this only happened when Haggie was alone in her room. Luria often sat with her until she fell asleep, so she would feel safe from herself, and when Luria couldn’t be there, she left her door unlocked for Haggie to hide inside. Luria’s things were comforting, like a little bit of her sister to sit with. Her books on the shelf and her fresh, unburnt sheets were proof that Luria could control magic. Luria could help her.
Haggie could feel a finger starting to blister.
She pulled her hand out of the washbasin at once and rubbed them across her dress, wiping away what she could, tears flowing freely down her cheeks now, as she heard her own voice in a squeaky panic chanting “No, no, please, no, don’t!” She didn’t want to damage Luria’s bed again, and there wasn’t a towel that she could see. She wrapped her left hand with her skirt, tugging on the fabric with her right. She could smell the burning fabric now, the smokiness of linen building the well of tears in her eyes. The door opened when she switched to wrapping her right hand.
“Haggie? In here? Were you in here the whole time?” Luria asked, hurrying to put a hand on Haggie’s shoulder and kneel by her sister.
“Y-yes,” Haggie said, sobbing breaking her voice. “I’m-m-m sor-sorry.”
“Here. Put your hands here.”
Luria patted the floor between them, Haggie dropping to her knees to obey. Luria could help. Luria knew what to do. As soon as Haggie had her fingers on the wood floor, Luria started waving her own above them, the black ash dropping splotchily over the too-bright green. Haggie stayed as still as she could. Luria knew what she was doing. Luria had just had a whole hour of lessons in magic. This was good. This would help.
Black flashed into glittering white and yellow, then was gone.
“Lift them up,” said Luria gently, her hands under Haggie’s wrists. Before Haggie’s wide-eyed stare, her fingers came free of the pool of green where they had been, clean and whole and only a little raw. Luria used her shoe to spread out the rest of the remaining magic over the floor, helping it to dissipate, keeping the wood below from staining.
“See?” Luria said, pulling Haggie into a hug. “Together we can handle anything. Just you and me. You’ll always be safe while I’m here.”
Haggie let Luria walk her across the hall to her own room, read a story, and tuck her in soon after, her tears dry and her hiccups slowed. She knew closing her eyes that Luria had better things to do than to look after a younger sister, had bigger plans than soothing Haggie’s worries and burns. She knew her sister wouldn’t be there forever.
But she was very glad to open her eyes the next morning, because Luria was still there.