I wondered if it was Elliot Graves. I wondered if I should tell Mr. Tom and the others.
But really, what good would it do in this instance? He hadn’t threatened me. If anything, he’d expressed approval for my decision to take the magic. A move he’d apparently helped orchestrate.
Besides which, my eyes had started drooping. I doubted I needed to fill them in tonight. There was always tomorrow. The man hadn’t seemed in any kind of rush.
As I lay in bed not long afterward, unsure of this new life, and unsure of the magic that was now apparently at my fingertips, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to the one guy who had so far been there for me during all my freak-outs. Niamh had said he needed time, and I probably should’ve respected that, but I needed a friend who thought all of this was just as messed up as I did. I hoped he was still that friend.
I texted Austin: I haven’t done a good job of hardening up. I threw up three times during the outdoor cleanup. And the dolls didn’t just shut off. I had to make them. What happens when they decide they don’t want a master and pop back into consciousness and try to kill me?
I stared at the message screen, looking for the three little dots that said he was typing. Wondering if he’d even seen the message at all.
After a while, I sighed and set my phone in the charging cradle. It had been a long, utterly screwed up night. This new life would take some getting used to.
Before sleep pulled me away, light flashed against my closed lids. My phone had lit up with a message.
Austin: You’ll harden up to the gritty parts of magic, I have faith in that. You’re a survivor. Not sure about the dolls tho. You might be screwed there. Been nice knowin’ ya. ;)
I laughed and reached over to put the phone back. On impulse, I felt my back. Were there wings in there? Or had that aspect of the magic not been included in the deal? And what else could I do besides hear the troubled thoughts of the four magical people who’d helped me claim the magic? I had so many questions. There were so many unknowns.
Rome wasn’t built in a day. The first order of business was getting some shut eye. Number two was blowing up the doll room. Then I would take the bull by the horns and figure out what I could really do. Preferably before that tall, dark stranger came back for his meeting.