A tiny gold spark zapped right off the tip of my index finger, burning a small black hole into the corner of my parchment. I pulled my hand back, dropping my quill as the little flame gave a quiet hiss and died out.
"Great. Just great," I muttered, rubbing my hand against my pants.
Ever since the blow-up in the restroom, my magic had been a complete mess. It was entirely unpredictable. One minute it would surge under my skin like a wave of boiling water, sparking out whenever I touched a doorknob or a book. The next minute, I would try to reach inside to get a grip on it, only to find absolutely nothing. It was like my power was completely gone, leaving no trace behind until it decided to pop out again and break something else.
I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the cool stone wall of my room. Dad? Zaine? Are you there? I could really use some help right now.
Nothing.
