Free A Breath of Magic by Tracy Madison

More than that, I needed her.
    “You are far from powerless. Can’t you feel the magic inside of you?” She smiled then, a hauntingly beautiful smile, and the light around her brightened, became more iridescent. She literally sparkled.
    “What magic, Miranda? I feel nothing. Shouldn’t I feel something? I can’t bake wishes into cakes, and I’ve yet to draw a picture of the future. So, what magic?”
    Her nostrils flared, as if she’d exhaled a breath. “Stop comparing yourself to others! You have always been acutely aware of the magic in this world, of the power that exists in objects and people around you. How can you not recognize it within yourself?”
    “I don’t sense magic anywhere. Not like I used to.” My admission startled me. When had I stopped sensing magic? When, exactly, had I begun ignoring most—if not all—I believed in?
    “The magic, your magic, exists within your will—as natural as breathing. It flows from you to those around you effortlessly, often without your ever being aware of the power you’re wielding. Think about it, Chloe, and you’ll recognize the truth I speak.”
    My will? I thought back to what Elizabeth had said at the intervention, that bit about how she’d felt compelled to do what I asked, to bake the magic cake. I remembered how strong my emotions were as I’d pleaded with her. comprehension slid in, along with the faintest ember of excitement. “All I have to do is make a wish, want something to happen, and it will? It’s that simple?”
    “Yes…and no. What you feel, what you want and desire, feeds this portion of your power. And yes, the more intense your emotions are, the more intense your magic is.”Her eyes clouded with a hint of darkness. Fear? Not of me, but for me?
    “Listen closely. This gift is yours, and it is meant to be used, but be cautious. Mistakes can be devastating. Not only to you, but to those your power touches. You have a journey, my dear great-great-great-granddaughter, and it is about far more than this picture.”
    Before I had a chance to ask another question or, hell, even take a breath, the light vanished, and with it, Miranda. My mind whipped through everything she’d said, and while the fear in her eyes and her warning worried me, it was the rest of her message that gleamed bright and true.
    The ember of excitement, of anticipation, grew in strength until it hummed through me, pushing everything else out. All this time, I’d been so sure the magic had skipped over me. Now? Well, this changed everything. The drawing lay on the floor where Miranda had stood. Catapulting from the bed, I grabbed it. I looked at it, still reeling from seeing and talking with Miranda—from learning that I was, indeed, more than the girl I’d always seemed. My eyes fell to the sketched image of me, of Ben. My heart cried out, my soul begged me to take a chance. Trust in yourself, she’d said. Trust in your power.
    Every part of me wanted this. The fear of choosing the wrong direction skittered away. Confidence soared. I had magic on my side. How could I lose? And with that, I stepped out of the middle of the crossroads, chose a destination and began walking, all the while hoping like mad that what I saw at the end of the path was real and not a trick, not an illusion.
    “So. Not. Cool,” I mumbled early Thursday evening, punching the button on my cell to replay Kyle’s message, hoping and praying that somehow I’d heard wrong.
    A series of small beeps sounded, followed by, “Hey, babe.It’s me. Change of plans. I need to stick in Cinci through Friday. Not making it home until Saturday. I’ll call when I get in.”
    Nope, I hadn’t heard wrong. Damn! I hit the end button and dropped the phone on my desk. This was so not the way I’d envisioned the forthcoming evening. All day long, I’d gone over and over what I would say to Kyle. What words to use to end our relationship. How to explain my change of heart. Even though I’d made my choice,