Danielle Ellison: Salt

“Well,” she says, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “That’s only two days from now. They usually give more notice.” Gran glances between Connie and me before she sets the paper on the back of the couch. “Did you get yours, Connie?”

“For August.”

Gran snorts. Ah, there’s the sea that’s going to swallow me up. “Then I’m not sure how you think you’re going to get past this point, dear. For the first few days, you’ll be safe, but then it’s magic, and you have limitations. You gave it a nice run, Penelope, but now you have to find a new path.”

Connie clears her throat. “She can still pass. I’ll find a way to be there for the magic test, and she can still pull it from me. We’ll get a new plan. I’ll hide in the closet or something. No one will know I’m even there.”

Gran crosses her arms. “And if she passes? Or gets made an Enforcer? Will you just follow her around forever, Constance?”

Connie and I share a look. Gran doesn’t know about my quest to retrieve my magic. She’d think I was mental, or tell me it as too dangerous. I try to think of a new plan for Connie to be there. The order of the tests runs through my head: history, fighting, weapons, magic. I don’t need her until the fourth day. And then it’s the Pairing, and two weeks together before the Partner final. She can be there for a reason; no one will have to know the real one. Yeah. This is good, we can do this.

“It’s going to be fine, Gran,” I say.

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Penelope, this is dangerous.”

I’ll just have to move up the search about my magic, and maybe the information about my demon will be easy to access. I have six more days until the magic testing portion. Miracles happen. If a geeky boy can be bitten by a spider and learn to scale walls, I can do this. I’ve made it this far. I can fight; I’m smart. This is what I’ve been working toward forever. Connie and I can practice. I can pass the magic test and the whole exam.

I can do it. Gran’s doubt will not sway me. Not now.

“What happened to all your speeches about it being ‘an honor to serve the Triad and the Nons’?” I ask, interrupting whatever rant she’s on. She sends me the death glare because Gran hates being interrupted, but it’s too late now, so I keep talking. I’m already going to regret it later, so give me some bacon on those cheese fries. “You didn’t protest when they wanted to Bond me. Why’s this any different?”

The way Gran looks at me—like I’m completely insane—is alarming. She should know how much this means to me. I didn’t mean to throw the Bonding in her face, but I didn’t want to be married. Even if the Triad “selected” me for the privilege. Being chosen at sixteen to be married at eighteen is stupid. I’d said no. I didn’t want to be chosen for something like that, something I didn’t want, and she never even suggested it for Connie. I want this. I always have, even if she hasn’t. I fought tooth and nail to get out of the Bonding; I will most definitely fight tooth and nail for the thing I want. I won’t let not having magic stop me.

Gran huffs. “It is a great honor. I’m saying you need to be realistic.”

“ Realistic? ” My voice sounds a little too high to be normal. I open my mouth, close it, then turn on my heels and march up the steps. Gran is right behind me. Tears burn at my eyes, but I will not let them come out.

Gran puts a hand on my shoulder. I jerk away.

I can almost hear Pop’s voice, telling her to calm down. It’s not working. Her lips are a straight line; her ears are so red they might as well be smoking. To my surprise though, she pulls me into a hug. Her arms are too tight around me for that. It’s not a comforting hug; it’s a threatening one. That’s part of Gran’s charm.

“I support your dreams, Penelope, if they are good ones,” she says into my ear. “This could ruin you. Ruin our family. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her breath warms my neck; she doesn’t let go of me until she’s sure her words have sunk in. I know that she and Pop have worked hard to keep my lack of magic a secret. This could be my undoing, yet even so, it could also be my salvation. The one option that could keep me from being labeled as Static, from ending up forgotten. This could make me normal in our world. If I succeed, if I find the demon, if I get my powers back—then all of the risks will have been more than worth it.

But I need to pass this test to get there.

Gran sighs in my ear. “If you continue down this path, you’re giving up your life. The Triad will discover you, Penelope, and when they do they will send you away with the other Statics.”

I shake my head. That can’t happen. I’m doing this for my family, because getting my magic ensures their safety as much as mine. If I were labeled Static, they’d be punished for not revealing me. Static witches, once they are of age, are completely removed from the witch community, and that usually includes their family. It’s just too hard to keep magic separate when it drives everything we do. That won’t happen to me. Or to us.

“I’m more than my magic,” I say. Gran winces and releases me. The worry is still there. “I don’t need magic to be a kick-ass Enforcer.” She hates being reminded of my “shortcomings.” It’s why I do it, every fight.

The door slams so loudly that Gran and I both look over. There in the foyer is Pop, his gray hair messed up and his work overalls covered in grease, Connie right behind him.

“What’s going on in here?” he asks us. Gran softens a little at his presence for a moment. Enough for me to let my guard down.

“Penelope was selected for next month’s Enforcer exam. Isn’t that great, Pop?” Connie says, her voice bright and cheery.

Gran steps away from me. “‘Great’ is not the word I used. We should never have indulged her in this path. We should’ve made her agree to the Bonding last year like the other girls,” Gran says.

I look away. I really wish I was the Flash right now. I could be out of here in half a second. A warm, rough hand touches my cheek, and I smell Pop’s pipe tobacco long before I open my eyes. When I do, the warmth of his presence, as always, floods me. The softness of his blue gaze and the soft round smile that always seems to be there.

“Penelope,” he says. It’s only my name, but it almost breaks me down. The way he says it, like it has weight and meaning, like it’s something. No one else does that. Not like Pop does. “Your grandmother is right. This could be very dangerous for you.”

Under the worry of his voice, his soft eyes, I see something more. Something like pride. That’s all I need to see to convince me again. “It could also save me. If I’m an Enforcer then no one would question anything. I could be part of our world. There’d be no more lying and no more worrying.”

Pop smiles a little. It’s a sad, tired one. “There’d be a whole different sort of worrying, Penelope.”

“Mom wouldn’t fight me on this,” I say. This is one of those moments that I’m good at generating because I can drive a point home. Gran stands up straighter. “I want to be an Enforcer—you know I want that—and she would do everything in her power to make that happen for me.”

“She’s not here. Being Enforcers is what got them both killed—and nearly you,” she says. “Think of your future.”

I stare at them, at all three of them. I can’t believe it—even Connie isn’t doing anything to help. I am thinking about my future. The last five years, the training, the bruises, the studying—it’s all been about this. I love my family, but they are wrong. So wrong. Even with this hitch, I can get my magic back. I want it more.