The Shattered Mirror (Winter's Blight Book 4)

by M. C. Aquila

  “A convent? That would explain it.” Lonan chuckled. “Although sacred ground is not completely off bounds to Seelie faeries, the power there is still greater than our magic and often disrupts our spells and senses. After the twentieth moon had passed, we sought for you. We hoped you would come into contact with a powerful faery and unlock your magic—we sealed it so you would not attract the attention of any neutral or Unseelie faeries while among the humans and could safely pass for a human child. But since it remained sealed all these years, that explains everything.”

  “So you did look for me? You did try to find me and bring me home?”

  “For at least a dozen years—until Sybil’s heart could not take any more disappointment. She—we had lost hope.” He smiled, his eyes lighting up again. “But you are here, alive. I do not know what will happen, but I pray you can find it in your heart to give Sybil time. It is possible she could yet come around.” When Deirdre didn’t answer, he then tilted his head, asking, “Did you have any other questions?”

  She let out a shaky laugh, wiping her eyes, exhausted by all that had happened in the past hour. “Questions? Dozens, hundreds. I can’t even think anymore—this is too much. It’s too much for anyone!” When she collected herself again, she asked, “You really caused the Cataclysm?”

  “I did.” His grin faltered. “I will understand if you wish for a different teacher.”

  Deirdre considered him, her arms folded tightly. Lonan’s presence was far less threatening than the other Nobles. And as he held her gaze, its earnestness reminded her of the Sisters back at the orphanage. Because of them, Deirdre grew up with stories of people who had performed harmful—even evil—acts but who had a change of heart and ultimately became holy men and women, devoted to God and the welfare of others. Even a zealot and murderer could become a Saint Paul—if given a chance.

  If they were all given second chances, how could I not give my own father one? I can at least try.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want another teacher. That is, if you really think I can get my magic back?”

  “I know you can.” Lonan rose, stepping up to the wide, flat top of the black rock under him, and beckoned for her to climb up. She did so easily as he said, “In the realm, there are several places where different types of magic are immensely strong. For example, the river the Court was held at has very strong Water Magic. Here”—he gestured to the shaded clearing—“Shadow Magic is strongest, thanks to the crystals inside this stone. It is your primary, correct?”

  “Yes. I…” She smiled at him. “I got that from you?”

  “Aye.” His eyes glinted happily as he looked at her. “You also got my mother’s hair and freckles. It’s almost uncanny how much you look like her.”

  Deirdre’s smile faded. “Wait, wouldn’t she have been Unseelie?”

  “Aye. She was a powerful faery and loyal to me. Though,” he added in a slightly lower voice, “not so much to my siblings.”

  “Siblings—” She beamed, gasping. “I have aunts and uncles?”

  “Nay, they were slain. And Sybil has no siblings.” When Deirdre slumped forward in disappointment, Lonan placed a hand on her shoulder. “’Tis common for Noble faeries to not have aunts or uncles. We are less fertile than humans. Most Noble faeries have only one child—two if they’re fortunate.”

  “Am I like that too?”

  “I would assume so, yes.” Lonan lowered his hand, frowning thoughtfully. “Did you wish to have many children?”

  “I… don’t know. I never thought about children or romance or marriage until—” The next words died on her lips, and her cheeks burned as a thought occurred to her.

  Not until this past week or so, with Iain. But she shook her head. No, no, no! That’s—what? I’m not acting silly like Alvey or the girls, so I don’t like-like him. Right?

  Lonan cleared his throat and said, “Noble faeries mature slower than humans in some ways during childhood and youth. The yearning for a mate generally doesn’t begin until near the end of adolescence. Also, our intellects can develop slower than humans.” He smirked. “In some ways, they’re quite smarter than we are.

  “But back to business. Shadow Magic is not as friendly as Water or Wind Magic, but it is not as wild or volatile as Fire or Wind. It is everywhere in the universe and does not willingly abandon or forget what it has been connected to.”

  “Yes”—Deirdre pointed upward—“the first time I connected to it, it told me about old stars that had died ages and ages ago.”

  “Exactly. I believe you will be able to reconnect to it, get it to remember you. But it shall not be easy. To begin, I want you to tell me everything you have learned and experienced with your magic, starting with when it was unlocked. Then we’ll discuss the different forms of Shadow Magic present in this clearing.”

  “…And that’s all?” Deirdre asked. Lonan sat down on the black stone, and she mirrored him.

  “For today, yes.” He tilted his head, giving her a small smile. “I imagine you have earned a bit of a break.”

  “Before we start,” she said, stroking the smooth stone beneath them, “I’ve had to fight to control my magic, ever since first tapping into it. It hurt things and people around me—it hurt me, even. Is that normal?”

  He mulled over her words before answering, “Deirdre, as I mentioned before, you are a unique faery in some ways. This, combined with how you did not have your magic unlocked before you were older—it is not entirely surprising that you had trouble controlling it. Because while Shadow Magic is loyal, it also serves such a great variety of purposes. This variety could create conflict, resulting in a loss of control.”

  “I thought it had more to do with my emotions, but…” She trailed off, frowning. “No, the last time I used it, I was feeling lots of things, but I didn’t lose control. I don’t know.”

  “We shall sort it all out together, step by step.” He smiled at her in a way that was quiet and earnest.

  As he asked her questions about her experiences, she answered them fully and honestly. Even though she was constantly aware of the hollow loss of her magic and the strange wildness of the realm around her, she felt comforted.

  Chapter Ten

  James waited on the hill for his brother to return from training with Cai, wondering if the crazy knight would keep him until morning. Mum had paced around until James suggested they light a cooking fire. They had seen several gnomelike faeries roasting food around the large bonfire, and the creatures had offered them one of the rabbits they had caught. Mum eyed the food suspiciously, but when he offered to help prepare it, she relented.

  After lighting the campfire in record time, James stood, wiping his hands on his sweater, and admired the hungry little flame with a smile.

  “When did you learn to do that?” Mum asked. “I remember when you could not even light the stove in the kitchen.”

  “Um, I dunno. A while ago.” He frowned, trying to remember. His heart thudded dully. Deirdre had taught him when they had first left Neo-London.

  That wasn’t so long ago, was it? But it feels like years ago.

  It had been a sunny day when he and Deirdre left the city on the memorial of the Cataclysm. They had walked through those green fields and pastures without the burdens they had now. When they were just two lonely, friendless students at the same school who happened to find each other. Then he hadn’t been lonely anymore.

  As the evening faded to night, Iain arrived with Cai, looking sore and tired and sweaty. A few sapling-like faeries came by and suspended hammocks between the trees, similar to the hammocks in the hollow tree prison but much larger. The faeries also left a few stray orbs of soft yellow light, fainter and smaller than the ones the Summer Prince had summoned.

  The night was cool but comfortable, and the sky was open and full of stars. Two shadowy figures appeared on the hill by their camp—Deirdre and her father. Now and then, Lonan pointed at the sky, perhaps at a constellation of stars, and she would follow his l
ead. When Alvey joined them, the three of them headed down the hill toward the group. James steeled himself as he went over what he wanted to say to Deirdre.

  As they arrived, Lonan tilted his head to look Deirdre in the eyes, his raven hair falling over his pale face, and he said in a gentle tone, “We shall continue our lessons tomorrow, where your champion will possibly join us.” He shot a look to Iain, saying the title like it was the punch line to a joke. “For now, you should remain here with your companions.”

  Though she hesitated for a moment, Deirdre then nodded, rocking back on the heels of her boots. “Right,” she said, her cheery tone faltering. “It would be best for— I’ll stay here.”

  James turned to Alvey, who was on her way to meet her father. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alvey.” After he cleared his throat, he added in a quieter tone, “Um, today was really great. Did… did you, uh, think it was great?”

  “Good night, James.” The half elf’s sly smile revealed nothing. With a flourish of her hand in a wave, she wheeled her chair to her father, and they both disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

  Once they’d left, Deirdre approached the fire, her ginger curls bouncing about her face as she glanced around. Upon spotting Iain standing by the tree line, her eyes brightened, and she opened her mouth to speak.

  Before she could, James walked forward and asked, gesturing to the trees where the hammocks were hanging, “Could we, um, talk for a bit—over there? It’ll just be for a minute.”

  Deirdre folded her arms around her middle like she felt as sick as he did, but she nodded and offered a small smile. “Okay.”

  They walked over to the hammocks and stood between the two massive trees, just out of the circle of orange firelight from the campfire, out of earshot of the rest of the group. Deirdre stood a few feet away from him, backlit by the flames, her face in shadow.

  “So,” James said, forcing a small smile, “how did your magic training go with your father today? Did you get to connect to any of your magic yet, or…?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What did you do, exactly?”

  “Well, mostly I sat and listened for the Shadow Magic around me, feeling it, letting it get to know me again.” She stretched her hand out to her side, absently flexing her fingers in the dark and casting a small shadow on the ground. “Lonan said I need to take things slowly, let the magic come to me.”

  “I haven’t heard you talk about magic like that before,” he said, smiling. “It sounds… cool.”

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” she asked abruptly. “You wanted to talk about my magic after ignoring me for days?”

  James’s face warmed. “I-I just wanted to… I wanted to talk to you because I don’t even remember why we’re, uh, fighting, or whatever, and I just want things to go back to how they were.”

  “You don’t remember ditching me or lying about it to my face?” Turning to the side with a scoff, Deirdre’s raised eyebrows were illuminated by the firelight. “I don’t know, James. Maybe if you actually apologized… You really hurt me, leaving me behind like that.”

  “Deirdre,” he said earnestly, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to leave you, but I knew you wouldn’t understand why I had to do it.”

  The faery faced him, her curls whipping wildly as she spun around. She opened her mouth to retort but took a few deep breaths instead. Finally she said, “Maybe I could understand if you explain it to me?”

  It seemed easy enough to explain what had happened at the festival, but when James started going over it in his head, he paused. He did not know how to explain what he’d done without it sounding like he’d done something wrong.

  “I-I…” He swallowed hard. “Do you remember that guy we met at the festival who mentioned my book? Well, I went to find him to get the information I was missing about the Cait Sidhe.”

  “That guy who called everyone ‘darling’?” Deirdre snorted a chuckle at the memory, then her expression sobered. “Wait—the guy with the golden eyes? He was the Cait Sidhe!”

  James froze, wondering how she knew.

  “Did you know he was the Cait Sidhe when you went to see him?” she asked, her voice rising in pitch. “Kallista told me who he was. And of course that guy knew about the Cait Sidhe—he is the Cait Sidhe!”

  Deirdre lowered her arms, her eyes wide and fearful. “James, did he… did he hurt you? Did he curse you or anything?” She looked him over quickly, like signs of hurt or curses would suddenly appear.

  “No.” He took a step back into the cloaking darkness as if to hide from her scrutiny. “No, he didn’t hurt me. He just wanted to talk. And… and he really isn’t even on the Winter Court’s side, exactly. He’s actually…”

  Trailing off, James thought about what Cecil had said to him earlier. He could not define Cecil or confine him to any specific moral code. In fact, he could not say with any certainty if the man was evil or not or if he was on their side after everything, good and bad, he had done.

  I guess I could have been hurt or killed or taken away… Cold fear rushed through him. But I wasn’t. I made the right call, and it worked out fine. And I’m fine.

  Deirdre was still looking at him, her face drawn. “You said you learned magic, right? Did the Cait Sidhe teach you?” Before he could answer, she continued, jabbing her finger at him, “It can’t be good! You haven’t actually used any of the magic he taught you, right? What if it uses evil spirits or something?”

  “It’s not bad at all. What he taught me—it’s taking magic that already exists and using it differently. I kind of… made it up as I went along.”

  Pointing to his pack, which was by the hammocks, James said excitedly, “See, I made these explosive crystals, like Alvey’s ones with Fire Magic, and they actually worked. When the Iron Guard came after us, I was actually able to do something about it. The crystals saved people—myself included.”

  Deirdre did not look convinced. “How does the magic feel about being used like that? Did you use it well?”

  “How did it… feel?” He blinked.

  “The different types of magic are meant to do certain things. It would be awful to use it in a way it wasn’t meant to be used. It’d be like… making you join a sports team when you wanted to read and study. It isn’t kind or fair.”

  James hunched his shoulders with a huff. “I don’t think it matters much how it felt. Cecil said magic is about intent. And I meant well.”

  “Could you sense how the magic felt when you used it?” Deirdre asked patiently.

  Shoving down his defensiveness with his curiosity, James pondered the question. “Cecil didn’t, um, mention anything like that. I used magic from a tree—a blackthorn tree already imbued with Unseelie magic to protect the berries. But…” He trailed off, rubbing his forehead at the memory of the ache he’d felt after using the magic. “I guess… I guess I was tired, and my head hurt a little. Mostly, it felt right.”

  “Magic shouldn’t cause you pain.”

  “But… but yours did. It cut open your hands.”

  “That’s because I was using it wrong. But maybe it hurt you because it was Unseelie magic—I don’t know. I don’t know about any of this.” She sighed. “You’re not planning on doing it again, right?”

  A familiar sensation of guilt crept up on him, making his chest tight as he thought of how he already had plans to learn from Cecil tomorrow. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t learn more. You wouldn’t want to give up magic after you used it, would you? Besides, it worked out fine the last time.”

  Deirdre paced in front of him, her hands on her head. “You learned this from the Cait Sidhe! Think about what he’s done to you and Kallista—”

  “That’s all I can think about, Deirdre!” James snapped. “But it wasn’t the Cait Sidhe who did this. My dad did this to us. He’s the one who gave me away before I was even born. And he’s the one who hurt you!”

  For a moment she reeled back from him in alarm, then her features and her ton
e softened. “Even so… Do you really think the Cait Sidhe had your best interest in mind, that he’s doing this to be nice?”

  “He said that’s the reason he found me. To teach me.”

  “Why? What does he get out of this? You don’t even know what he wants.”

  “I-I don’t know.” He frowned. “I’ll have to… think about it.”

  Deirdre stopped pacing, halting in front of him. “At least ask Lonan or Cardea or another Seelie faery here about the magic before you use it again!”

  “You want me to ask these… Noble faeries?” James shook his head. “They’re the ones who, uh, really don’t have my best interests in mind. You’ve seen the way they look at me and Mum, haven’t you? Like we’re nothing.”

  “It doesn’t matter. These faeries actually understand and know about magic and how it works. They can share their knowledge with you, and you can know it will be the truth. They’re… painfully honest.” Deirdre gestured to him, saying, “Isn’t that why you wanted to find faeries—to learn more about what magic is like? Well, you’re here! This is your chance! I bet Alvey would help you talk to Lonan about it—he’s a lot more approachable than other faeries.”

  “That actually sounds okay. I could talk to Alvey about it.” Stepping into the light, James added with a hopeful smile, “But maybe… maybe you could introduce me, and we could learn about it together? It would be like… like before. When we were learning stuff together.”

  The faery’s silence stung like a slap.

  “Deirdre…” James’s voice was strained, taut, and he could barely force the words out. “Can we just go back to how things were? I-I want us to be friends again. Please.”

  “I don’t know if we can, James.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You knew I wanted to help you find Kallista, but when you had a lead with the Cait Sidhe, you went after it alone. Even though I promised I would help you.” Deirdre wrapped her arms around herself, gripping her arms. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t let me help you. And if you think I can’t help you, or I’ll get in your way or something… I don’t see how we can be friends if we can’t trust each other.”