Free Old Magic by Marianne Curley

could’ve passed some on through her genes to Kate.
    “I’m going to make you two a couple of sandwiches.” And to Kate, Jillian says, “Remember, Kate, you’ve had sixteen years to adjust to your talents, but can you tell me you’re totally at ease with yourself, with your abilities, even now, after this length of time?”
    Kate nods without replying. It seems Jillian doesn’t require any other confirmation anyway. I’m glad. The thought of them discussing powers and talents and abilities gives me the shivers. Jillian leaves and I decide to set this discussion straight before it gets out of hand. “Look,” I begin and Kate spins around with an aggro look on her face. “I know you’re into magic and stuff.” She glares at me, her incredible almond-shaped eyes narrowing defensively. I put my hand up to stop whatever she’s going to say. “That’s okay with me. I can handle that, I think. At least, I will, as long you don’t involve me in it. I mean, you can involve me but not include me. The point I’m pathetically trying to make is that I don’t have any magical powers, or mystical talents, or anything like that, unless of course you count clumsiness in your list of paranormal qualities.”
    She actually smiles, then lowers herself to the floor so that her back rests against the edge of the bed. My knees are level with her shoulders. My hand is so close to her head I have a sudden urge to touch her, feel for myself if that hair is as soft and silky as it looks. I don’t though. As much as part of me wants to, I’m just not sure. She’s beautiful. In a really exotic sort of way. But looks aren’t everything. Kate is different from other girls. Maybe that’s the attraction. Those other girls at school, Jessica Palmer, Tasha Daniels, they’re really shallow. I guess their only appeal over Kate is that they’re “safe.” They don’t scare me, like Kate does. And that makes me comfortable in their company.
    “Snakes are an ancient symbol of evil.”
    I hang my head in my hands. “Oh, God.”
    “I looked it up. Here, I’ll show you.” She scrambles to her knees and carefully lifts a thick ancient-looking book off the dresser, holding it like she’s afraid her fingerprints will make the soft leather cover disintegrate. She sits back on the floor cross-legged, the book in her lap. It has to be a thousand years old, with thousand-years-old yellowed and tattered pages. The soft black cover is bare except for a twisting pattern of gold vines like a border. “This is the oldest book Jillian has. It’s unique, you know. Handwritten and filled with Old Magic.”
    “Oh, right,” I mutter, not knowing what she expects.
    Her head lowers as she finds the page she’s marked and starts reading. “‘Snakes are an ancient symbol of evil. Many snakes, especially around the head, indicate that evil surrounds the figure and all those to which the bearer has alliance.’”
    I yank out my glasses from my jeans pocket and scan the script. It’s handwritten, all right, articulately in black ink, but the letters are completely indecipher-able. I wonder what language it is. “How can you read that?”
    She spins her head around and looks up. “It’s an early form of English, dating back almost a thousand years. Jillian taught me how to speak and read the ancient tongue.”
    I’m going to be sorry I ask, but I just have to. “Why? It seems like a lot of work for something you’re never going to use. I mean, if you learned French, or Japanese, sure, you could travel there one day.”
    Kate’s eyes widen as if she can’t believe anyone can be so stupid. “So I can read the ancient scripts, of course. I’m fascinated with this era, Jarrod. Magic was alive then. There were some really powerful sorcerers around.”
    I decide to go along with her. Even though I don’t believe in this stuff, I can see it means a lot to her. She must spend half her life on the subject. It’s all she thinks about. I guess she