She should make some light. Sometimes she could do that, if she concentrated hard enough, though the magic place inside her often seemed to shift around, like it was trying to hide from her.

Your magic is there, if only you would let it be instead of fighting it all the time.

She’d taught Alice how to use her magic, how to accept what it could and could not do, how to make it come when she called and lie quiet when she didn’t need it. Much of what she taught Alice had seemed like knowledge Alice already had, only it was hidden under the surface of her skin, waiting for her to peer underneath.

I do know this. You’re a Magician, as sure as I’m mad.