His words make me go numb.

“Then maybe I could do what I wanted to with my life instead of what my parents and my heritage say I have to.” He all but spits the last part, clearly bitter.

I don’t know what to say to that. I can’t even begin to relate. Gods, if only we could swap. What I wouldn’t give to have the smallest smidgen of his power. I would gladly trade my unmagical life for his any day, even if that came with the baggage of an inherited destiny. I doubt that’s what he wants to hear.

“Sorry, I know that probably makes me sound like an ungrateful jerk.” He slides lower in the bus seat, hands stuffed in jacket pockets. “Because I really don’t have a crappy life I should be complaining about.”

Neither do I, but I think I get what he’s trying to say and what’s making him feel this way.

“I don’t think it’s having magic that’s the problem,” I say, thinking over every word before laying it down. “I think it’s about not having a choice. You didn’t choose to be a powerful elementalist. You didn’t ask for the responsibility that comes with that. Same as me, only the complete opposite, of course. It’s the lack of choice that makes me angry. And sad, sometimes.”

“Aren’t we a pair?” He offers me a brittle smile and I return it as we bump fists.

He naps after that, leaving me alone with my thoughts. It’s the first time I’ve thought about what having no magical path laid out for me really means. I can choose to do anything with my life. Of course, it’s the thing I can’t have that’s what I want. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe an unmagical life could be a happy one.

After what feels like half of forever, the bus pulls over at a rickety wooden lean-to on the side of a narrow road. It’s the official bus stop for Kuusikylä, even if it only sees a bus twice a day. We’ll worry about getting home to Myrskyjärvi later.

The bus pulls away and disappears down the lonely road. It’s getting dark, and without streetlights, the darkness seems thicker, hanging in gooey curtains between the trees flanking the road. In the west, a sliver of clear sky has spilled purple and orange across the horizon, splotching the ragged clouds with bruises.

“I think it’s this way.” Morgan holds his phone while I hold the book, comparing the two maps.

He’s right. We start walking as twilight closes around us.

After fifty-two minutes, we pause.

“Wow, look at the stars.” Morgan looks up and I crane my head back too.