Berak laughed. “Oh my, no, that’s preposterous. It would be impossible for an ungifted to have any effect on magic.”
Becka’s heart skipped a beat and she felt the color drain out of her face. Her fingers went numb. This was not her life.
Saana shook her head, laughing along with him. “You should be pleased, Becka. You are a late bloomer, which is unheard of.” She looked to Berak. “You do not suppose the gift’s late emergence could be related to the nature or capacity of her power?”
They couldn’t be serious? Why would she be pleased? “Gift? How can breaking magic even be a thing?”
“That is such an important question,” Berak replied. “As far as I know, you are the first with such a talent. And yes, Saana, I would think it is possible the emergence was late due to it being a new branch. We will need to research the emergent age of others who were the first of their lineage.”
“It is extraordinary, my dear.” Saana’s wizened smile sought to comfort her. “You will be the progenitor of an entirely new branch of magic.”
“But...this changes...everything,” Becka stammered. The tight gripping within her chest wouldn’t release. There were many words Becka might have used, but extraordinary wasn’t one of them.
“Yes, to be certain it is quite a favorable turn of fate for you.” Berak replied, seemingly oblivious to her distress. “You know, Saana, it is incumbent upon us to study her gifts further. There is so much we do not yet understand.”
Becka considered this to be anything but a favorable turn of events. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what they were saying. What it all meant.
“I agree. Two minds would be better than one while we work together to determine the significance of this new magical branch. By your leave, I would like to request a temporary transfer from House Alder.”
“Are you sure they could spare you?”
“For this?” she shrugged. “My mentee can manage for a time.”
“Then it is settled.” Berak snapped the latches on his case shut.
Becka watched them chitter like a pair of excited squirrels celebrating a newfound cache of nuts. All the while, the anxiety in her gut magnified breath by breath. This morning, she was an uncomfortable houseguest looking for her first opportunity to leave. Now? Would they let her go while this mystery hung over her head?
“I will leave you the honor of announcing our findings to the family,” Saana said.
“My thanks,” Berak replied, bowing his head for a moment.
Becka wanted to stop him. To flee the room. But what good would it do? How could she escape her own skin?
He strode over to the door to the viewing chamber and opened it with a flourish, gesturing for them all to enter. “Please join us. We have completed our testing and are ready to reveal our initial findings.”
Maura and Vott led the group with Quinn and Brent taking up the rear. Despite the spacious nature of the room, Becka felt penned in as the group circled around the central slab. She crossed her arms and shuffled in the direction of the changing room, only to be cut off by Saana.
“You can get changed in just a moment, dear,” she whispered. “The presentation is traditional.”
Becka’s gaze flitted to Quinn, whose attention was fully focused upon her. His grim countenance mirrored her mood.
“It appears your testing yielded fruit,” Maura said, her brow furrowed, gaze marking the fading gray-toned patches of color on Becka’s arms and legs. “I admit I have not had the pleasure of witnessing a result of this scale before.”
“Nor we,” Berak replied. “It is a fortuitous day for the House of Mirrors.”
Vott was taken aback, confusion plain on his features. “How could identifying any of the curses you were seeking be beneficial?”
“Becka is not cursed,” Saana replied.
Becka’s heart skipped a beat again. Becka held herself tightly, trying to shrink into a smaller and smaller space. She took a step back, running into and then leaning upon the limestone slab. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention.
She wasn’t used to mattering. Not among other fae. Not to who used to be her family. If she had to, she’d describe the sensation as nauseating.
The door beckoned her. She imagined herself running through it, down the hall, and out of the manor. Losing herself in the woods, never to be heard from again.
If only.
“She is gifted,” Berak announced, his voice reverberating through the room.
Becka wished she’d swoon, faint, and wake up to find out this was all a bad dream. But no such luck.
Expressions of confusion surrounded her, but she doubted any of them felt half as confuzzled as she did.
Maura, however, had the wide-eyed look of a child who’d discovered hidden treasure. “Gifted? How is that even possible?” A slow smile spread across her face, her gaze lingering on Becka, as if evaluating her afresh.
“I fear we do not have an answer for you as of yet, my Lady,” Berak replied. “Saana has generously offered to stay and assist with the research. The emergence of a gift after adolescence is heretofore unknown to us.”
“A curiosity, to be sure,” Vott said. “I must say, I have attended all of the testing ceremonies here at House Rowan, and before I came here at House Alder. This result does not look like any I have witnessed before.”
“That is because it is new,” Saana replied, her voice a jubilant sing-song to match her ebullient mood.
There was a pause in the conversation. Becka felt her heart lurch into the empty space.
“New?” Vott asked, a smile twitching upon his lips.
“Becka’s magic is new. She appears to nullify, or cancel, all other magics,” Berak replied. “We will figure out a proper name for it shortly.”
“But magic-cancelling is not a proper gift.” The words burst forth from Calder like steam from a kettle. Becka felt the heat of his anger radiating from him.
“It is now,” Saana replied, her sing-song voice immune to Calder’s foul mood. “Becka is the first.”
“What does it mean?” Astrid asked.
Saana pulled a wooden stick from one of the pockets in her black robes and used it to point at the ashed testing patches on Becka’s arms. “You see how the tests have all dried up and flaked away? The magic has been sapped out of them. It’s as if her being is a magical desert.”
“Which is how Becka broke The Unbreakable?” Maura replied although she appeared to be musing more to herself than asking the testers.
“Where does it go?” Sigfrid asked. When met with frowns, she continued. “The magic, I mean?”
Good question. From Berak and Saana’s shared look of confusion, Becka didn’t get the impression they had any idea.
“We do not know,” Berak replied. “Saana and I hope to find the answer with our forthcoming research.”
“How powerful is this new ability? What’s the scope?” Maura asked.
“We do not know that, either,” Saana replied. “But, if she could break Unbreakable, it is something to take great care with. As Berak said, we will need to work with Becka and see what more we can learn.”
“More testing?” Becka asked, her voice dry and cracking.
“No,” Berak shook his head. “Not like these tests at all. More interactive experiments, like testing out the scope of what you can break.”
“She damaged the fabric of the funerary shroud enchantment just by walking through it,” Astrid said, her expression contemplative. “And I have watched other magics roll off her as if she did not even exist.”
“I would like to record your observations,” Berak replied, and Astrid nodded.
“It sounds like the range and depth of our questions cannot be answered here and now,” Vott said. “May I suggest we allow Becka to clean up and change? We can always speak more of this over lunch.”
“A wise suggestion, husband,” Maura replied. “Saana and Berak, if you would accompany me to my study, where we ma
y speak of this further. Becka, please take some time to compose yourself and then meet us for dinner. That should give us all some time to contemplate today's momentous events.”
Becka gave a quick, curt nod. She’d walked into the room an outcast, and now she was ...gifted? What did that even mean? The sudden change in attitude from her estranged family galled her. What if she didn’t want to be included? Did she have any say?
Maura headed out the door, but then paused. “Also, for the love of all that is sacred,” she continued, “Do not touch anything. Well, nothing you have not already touched. Brent, please assign a security detail to Becka. Quinn, do not get in the way of Brent.”
Maura swept out of the room before Brent would answer, followed by the testers, Calder, Astrid, Vott, Sigfrid, and Ingrid.
Alain remained. He’d been silent during the discussion, his gray-gold eyes stormy. He opened his mouth to speak, seemed to think better of it, and then walked to the door. He paused, just as Maura had.
“I will see you at lunch,” he said, bowed slightly, and then left, not waiting for her reply.
What, even Alain was being civil now?
Neither Brent nor Quinn said a word, but both looked at her with concern evident on their faces.
She must look a wreck.
“Well, fuck.”
Chapter 22
The hot, long shower and getting back into her own clothes had helped ease the last of her headache away, but Becka doubted anything would quell the anxiety continuing to do backflips in her stomach. Yesterday, she was ungifted. Yesterday, she was also an outcast.
Today, Becka was gifted. Today, Becka was something other than an outcast. Ironically, she didn’t want either Especially not some useless new gift no one understood, and not with the drama of House Rowan.
Even worse than the anxiety was the pervasive sense of sorrow Becka wrestled with. If she’d known about her gift eight years ago, Becka would have never been sent away to the city. Had the testers known sooner, she’d have grown up with her sister. Her heart ached at the thought.
The timing of her gift’s emergence had cost her years with her family and twin. What would happen now, after all of this time? What decisions would be made by others about her life now?
She’d been tempted to run back to her bedroom and hide, but after being in the testing room all she’d wanted was some fresh air. Walking down a gravel path surrounded by purple tea roses and the tinkling sound of fountain she couldn’t quite see should have calmed her.
Becka sighed in frustration.
“Is the stroll helping?” Quinn asked, broaching the silence.
He’d followed her wordlessly for the past hour. Becka had known the walking would help ground her. She hadn’t expected Quinn’s silent presence to help, but she had to admit it had.
“I’m trying to figure out where I went wrong.”
“Pardon?”
“I should never have answered Vott’s call. I should have run out the door to...well anywhere, and never looked back.”
He looked at her like she’d lost her marbles. “Answering or not answering his call, coming home or not, you are still Becka. You cannot run away from yourself nor your gift.”
Becka shrugged. “You might be right, but I can still try.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “Think I can escape from here?”
“Where to?”
Where would she go? She’d been separated from fae society for so long...she had no friends. No contacts.
The human world wouldn’t hide her. As an outcast, they’d only grudgingly accepted her. As a gifted, she’d be expected to live on fae territory, except for travel and occasional job assignments.
“Anywhere but here. If I were back in the city, I could keep doing what I was doing. I have a job waiting for me at home, and my graduate studies.”
He blew out a long breath. “Well, between the shifter and fae guards you will have a difficult time running.”
Becka cast her gaze about. A pair of lanky and lean shifter ladies trailed them, but not too closely. Brent’s pack wasn’t just known for their loyalty, but also their clever wits and unmatched speed.
“I suppose I can’t outrun that pair.”
“Pair?” Quinn stopped and looked down the aisles of roses, and then turned to face her. “I count six wolf shifters. Another eight fae guards are a bit further out, but still nearby.” He motioned to the locations of each as he did the rundown.
Becka whistled. She’d been so focused on calming down, she hadn’t noticed all of the guards trailing her. Her anxiety faded a smidge, only to be replaced with bleak acceptance.
“Maura isn’t going to let me go.”
Quinn shook his head. “I do not think you are quite comprehending what is happening here.”
“Oh, I think I do.” Becka pulled her hair up into a bun, getting the damp strands off the back of her neck. “I’m once again a useful asset to Duchess Maura and House Rowan.”
“I doubt the possibility of you running away has even occurred to them. I mean, from their perspective, what fae would prefer to be anywhere but with their own people?”
“That’s a trick question from a man who lives and works between the worlds.”
He didn’t react to her sarcasm. “It is much more likely Rowan is moving to protect a valuable and unique asset.”
Becka harrumphed and walked past him. “I’m no one’s asset. I have my life. I have a new job to intern. A doctorate to earn. It’s not a perfect life, but it’s mine and it’s far away from here!”
“Are you...wallowing?” He arched a brow her way. “Because, as impressive as your newfound gift is, I do not feel it rates this level of moping.”
“I am not a wallower!” She let out a short, drained laugh. “Or a moper! I’ll have you know I come from a long line of non-wallowers. Excuse me if I needed a few minutes to process,” she replied.
His eyes glinted with amusement, but he matched her serious expression.
Becka spotted Calder round the end of the row and heading their way. His stiff smile could have been painted on and he walked like a man returning to his prison cell.
“Oh gods not again,” she muttered. “Hasn’t today been long enough already?”
“Are you forgetting tonight’s dinner?” he asked. “You should steel yourself for another few hours of peak amusement.”
“Like I needed any reminder?” Becka stopped and waited as Calder approached.
It wasn’t lost on Becka that her subtle shifter guards suddenly reappeared and got closer.
“Becka,” Calder said. “I had thought I would find you here. I remembered how fond you used to be of the rose gardens, just like Tesse.”
What a horrible analogy, considering her twin just died out here a couple of days ago. Becka closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
“Can I...help you with something?” she asked.
He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. Calder’s gaze flitted back and forth between Becka and Quinn.
“Quinn’s not leaving, so just say whatever you’re gonna say.”
Calder’s smile was grim. “I fear we got off on the wrong foot. It has been a difficult time and I have not behaved my best nor given you the respect you deserve.”
She barked out a laugh, but then sobered at his earnest expression. “You’re serious?”
He paused a moment, but Becka didn’t have anything else to say. “If you are willing, I would like to try and start anew.”
Becka pursed her lips. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
Calder frowned, cocking his head to the side. “Things have changed. You are a member of House Rowan again and I do not want any ill will between the two of us.”
“Oh.” Becka shook her head in disbelief. “So you have to like me now, for the good of House Rowan?”
A flash of anger hit his features, which was quickly replaced a moment later by his attempt at a stoic mask.
“Are you declining my offer?”
/> “Not at all,” Becka forced a smile. “I accept your offer. I understand it may not be genuine, but I appreciate the de-escalation of conflict.”
Calder painted the smile back onto his face. “My gratitude, Becka. I hope this heralds a new chapter between us. Would you like to walk with me back to the manor? The hour for dinner approaches.”
“I’m going to finish my walk, but I’ll see you there.”
“Very well,” Calder replied, not appearing disappointed in the least with her refusal. “Good day.”
As he strolled away, Quinn chuffed. “Why in the world did you agree to Calder’s request?
Chapter 23
Becka continued her stroll, this time paying attention to how the numerous guards moved in synchrony with her changes in direction.
“Have you forgotten he’s still on our potential suspects list? Not to mention being one of the more unreasonable members of House Rowan,” Quinn said.
“Oh, I don’t buy his redemption for a moment either. However, anything has to be more pleasant than his bald-faced rage routine,” Becka replied.
He appeared to consider her statement. “I suppose so?”
“Look, if he’s playing nice perhaps he’ll be more likely to let down his guard. Or at least I can have longer conversations with him.”
“Perhaps. The more amenable he is the more likely he might let something slip. Interrogations are difficult because suspects have their guards up. If he calls you family, perhaps his words will flow more freely.”
“And more politely,” Becka replied. Quinn laughed. “Well, I can always hope.”
They wandered for a few moments in blissful silence.
“Oh my gods!” Becka rubbed at the back of her neck, grateful to have her hair up in a messy bun during this summer heat. “I need a name for whatever this gift of mine is!”
Quinn tilted his head to one side. “I am no expert with protocol in these matters, but may I suggest you take the lead?”
Twinned Shadow (The Shadow Series Book 1) Page 15
