“Of course,” the queen said. “The fae magic would be strong in the daughter of a god.”
“Learning to control your magic might give you a crucial advantage against Ultan,” Liam told Mel. “He will not expect it.”
Winnie twisted in her seat to look at him. “You have more control over your magic than anyone else. Maybe you should train her?”
There was a glint in her green eyes, but he dismissed that as lingering emotion over Cathair’s promise of an engagement in truth after the war ended.
“Yes,” the prince quickly agreed. “I think that is an excellent idea.”
“But I am needed to help coordinate the security forces,” he protested.
“Tearloch and I can handle that.”
“And Winnie and I can plan the ball,” the queen offered. She grinned at her future daughter-in-law. “It will give us practice for the real thing.”
“Then it’s settled,” the Winnie said. “The guys plan the security, the queen and I plan the ball.”
“And Liam will train Mel to channel her magic.” The grin on Cathair’s face was a bit too large.
Liam had never been particularly gifted at reading the subtext of others. He had to assume that he was seeing something that wasn’t there.
“Great,” Mel said, pushing to her feet. “No time like the present. Let’s get me some magic.”
Everyone separated to begin their agreed-upon missions. Cathair and Tearloch headed to the map room to study blueprints of the palace. Winnie and the queen went to the kitchens to speak with the culinary staff about a menu for the ball.
That left Liam in need of a place for Mel’s first lesson in magic.
He considered the options. Outdoors was always best, especially with those unused to magic. Not only did being closer to nature increase their access to power, but it also decreased the odds of furnishings—or entire buildings—being accidentally damaged.
The courtyard was the closest and easiest outdoor space to access from their current location. But he didn’t think taking her into a public space was the best idea.
Besides, there was every possibility that Ultan had spies within the palace walls.
The grounds outside the palace were lovely, with gardens and ponds and hedgerow mazes to explore. But since his first and foremost duty was to protect her, he didn’t think taking her beyond the palace walls was a great idea either.
Which only left one option.
“I know just the place,” he said.
He led her through the halls and to a back staircase that was rarely used anymore. They climbed up, higher and higher, through the three levels of rooms and living quarters, up to the parapet.
The moment they stepped out into the open air he knew he had made the right choice. The expression on her face as she looked out over the lands of his clan was one of pure joy.
“It’s beautiful,” she exclaimed. Then laughed derisively. “A far cry from the Redwood Acres Mobile Home Park.”
“The lands of the Moraine are among the most beautiful in all the fae realm.”
“So what is this place?” she asked, gesturing at the parapet walk on which they stood. “Some kind of medieval rooftop deck?”
“In times of war, archers of the Palace Watch are stationed here. They are the last line of defense for the royal family.”
She squinted her eyes along the length of parapet. As if trying to imagine it full of fae archers.
She would not have to imagine for long. Security precautions at the ball would be at the highest levels Liam had ever seen.
“On Saturday night, the full company of archers will be on duty.”
When she turned to look at him, the joy in her face was gone. “This is a pretty big deal, isn’t it?”
“What the traitor Ultan attempts to do,” Liam explained, “could mean the destruction of every fae clan on earth. So, yes, it is a big deal.”
She rested her arms on the parapet and leaned out over the rough-hewn stone. “Why is he doing this? What would make someone what to cause that kind of destruction?”
“I have no answer for that.” Liam joined her at the wall. “There were rumors among the Watch that he went mad when Prince Daegus was sentenced to the Everdark.”
She turned to look at him. “I have no idea what any of that means.”
“Prince Daegus was the queen’s husband. He violated the trocaire, the most sacred law of our clan.”
“Trocaire?”
“Dark clans, like the Moraine and others, charge their magic by negative human emotions.”
“Negative human emotions? Like anger?”
“Yes, anger. And fear. Pain. Loss. Confusion. Outrage. They all feed our magic to varying extents and give us strength.” He looked out over the lands as he spoke. “The greatest power of all comes from death. The trocaire forbids the taking of a human life to feed a fae’s power.”
Liam knew better than most how seductive the lure of such a power charge could be. He had almost succumbed to the temptation, had almost exacted the ultimate price and doomed himself to the same fate as his former prince.
He had spent every day since maintaining tight control over his power and his thirst for the charge of negative human emotions.
Perhaps that was why Winnie had suggested him as Mel’s trainer.
“Good to know you all got that rule sorted out.” Mel traced her fingers over the stone. “So this Daegus guy, he broke that rule?”
“He killed in order to feed his power. And for that, he was sentenced to a millennium in the Everdark.”
She twisted her head to look up at him. “Sounds like a blast.”
“He and Ultan had been close. It is…” Liam shook his head. “It’s possible that Ultan is attempting to raise the Dark Clan so that he can retrieve Daegus from his prison realm.”
Chapter Eleven
“That’s a lot of effort to bring his friend back from the dead,” Mel said.
If something bad happened to Winnie, Mel knew she would do almost anything to save her. But that almost made definite exceptions for murder and the destruction of entire realms. There were limits.
“Daegus is not dead, precisely,” Liam clarified. “He is…well, the best description is that he faces perpetual torment.”
Mel turned to gaze out over the land. “Sounds like he deserved it.”
Liam fell silent and she took the opportunity to take in the view. Even in the dim light of the night sky, she could see the lush green forest that surrounded the palace. How on earth she gotten there? She knew the particulars, obviously, but this place felt so far from the crappy little trailer she called home that it might as well have been in a different universe altogether.
Considering she was in the fae realm, that might actually be true.
Her father was a fae god. How was that even possible? How could the deadbeat no-show she always not-so-secretly loathed be an actual magical being?
Hating her errant father was one of the few constants in Mel’s life. Her relationship with her mother was…complicated. And her relationships with the stepdads of the week were nonexistent. Hating her dad and her friendship with Winnie were the two constants.
And now, both of those had changed.
“What does it mean?” she asked, her unfocused gaze still pointed at the forest.
“What does what mean?”
“Being the daughter of a god,” she explained. “Does that make me a freak?”
She turned when she sensed him hesitate. His brows furrowed together into a deep line just above the bridge of his too-straight nose.
“I am not certain,” he finally said.
“Not the answer I was looking for.”
The strange look in his gray eyes set the hair on the back of her neck on end.
“I am not certain,” he explained, “because I do not know what it means.”
“Why not?”
“Because I believe you are the first.”
Mel backed away from the wall. “The firs
t what?”
“Child of a god.”
Mel’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
“To my knowledge, there have been no children of the gods for millennia. Not since they first coupled with humans to create our race, long before written human history. They deemed their elemental magic far too powerful for mere humans to possess.”
Mel’s palms itched. “Sounds…dangerous.”
“You are likely more powerful than any fae in many generations.”
So many questions raced through her mind. What kind of power? What could she do? If she had so much magic running through her veins, why hadn’t she ever done any?
“How do I do it?” she finally asked. “How do I do magic?”
“We do not do magic,” he said softly. “We wield. Magic is not an action. Magic is a resource.”
“Okay,” she said, somewhat irritated by the correction. “How do I wield magic?”
“It is difficult to explain.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Try.”
He studied her for several long moments. Mel had the feeling he was trying to read her mind. Or maybe he was just mentally preparing himself for her training.
He finally said, “Close your eyes.”
Mel narrowed her gaze. “Why?”
“Trust me,” he whispered.
She huffed out an annoyed breath. And closed her eyes.
“Magic is like air,” he said, his voice slipping into a soothing tone. “Accessing it is like breathing.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say something snarky, but since she actually wanted to learn what he was trying to teach her—since it might save her life when Ultan showed up—she kept her mouth shut. There was a first time for everything.
“Magic is everywhere,” he continued hypnotically. “It is all around us. In the stone beneath your feet, in the wind that blows across your cheek, in the birds and butterflies that dance across the sky.”
As he spoke, Mel felt that same tingle in her skin as when she’d crossed into the veil. It prickled at her, teasing her, caressing her. Almost like it was calling to her to use it.
“Do you feel it?”
Mel nodded, not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking.
“Concentrate on the magic that is within you. Try to awaken the power. It has been in slumber your entire life. It needs to be called.”
Mel turned her focus inward. Instead of trying to feel magic of the world around her, she reached for the magic within her. How she knew what to look for, how she knew how to look for it, Mel had no clue. But some kind of deep-seeded instinct took over and she went after her magic with confidence. With certainty.
It didn’t come immediately. Liam was right, after almost eighteen years of not being used, it was buried deep inside. Gradually, carefully and persuasively, Mel pulled her magic back to life. It started as a faint tingle, kind of like when your arm falls asleep and then suddenly the blood rushes back into the limb.
Come on, she whispered to it with her mind. Come on.
Then, in a flash, it rose.
“Oh!” she cried out.
One second, her body was full of faint tingles. The next, exploding with the energy of a thousand fireworks.
She felt on fire. But not in a bad way. There wasn’t any pain, only…magic. Only power.
“Mel,” Liam’s faint voice called out. Then, louder, “Mel!”
“What?” she demanded, opening her eyes.
But he didn’t have to answer the question.
The first thing she was his face, his nose just an inch away from hers. How was he so very close when he sounded so far away?
Then she saw the light. Or rather the lights. Hundreds of them, thousands of them, sparkling in the air like someone tossed a glitter bomb into a tornado.
It was breathtaking.
“Release the magic,” Liam said, his voice strong and steady despite the madness swirling around them. “Let it go.”
“I don’t know how,” she shouted.
He placed his palms on her cheeks. “Just. Breathe.”
She hadn’t realized until that moment that she was holding her breath. She drew in a deep lungful of air and then exhaled. As she did, the glitter blew away. As if her breath had become the wind.
For several long moments she stared into his eyes, finding some kind of anchor in their gray depths. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. She felt the magic inside of her settle back down.
She lifted her hands and placed them over his.
“I’m okay now,” she told him. “I’m okay.”
Though in reality, she wasn’t sure if she would ever be really okay again.
Chapter Twelve
Mel’s palms were hot against the backs of his hands. At first Liam thought it was contrast of the heat of her skin against the cool night air. But then he realized it was the warmth of the magic flowing out of her.
He had never witnessed such a powerful display of magic. Not even by the great Ultan himself. This was magic on a whole new scale.
There was so much power flowing through her that it was literally leaking out.
Liam found himself leaning forward, swaying toward her, needing to be closer. It was intoxicating. Her magic called to him.
He jerked away, yanking his hands from her face and breaking contact. He had felt that kind of pull before. It had not ended well for anyone involved.
She slowly lowered her hands to her sides.
“What just happened?” she breathed.
He struggled to find the words.
Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps in the stairwell echoed out onto the parapet. An instant later, Cathair emerged, with Tearloch and several palace guards right behind him.
Liam took another step back.
“What’s going on?” the prince demanded. “We received a report of an explosion on the tower.”
“That was no explosion,” Liam explained. “Mel channeled her magic.”
All eyes turned to Mel. Her eyes were wide, pale blue dots surrounded by white. She was obviously frightened of her own magic.
As well she should be.
“The strength of her power is unlike any I have ever seen,” he told the prince. “Her power very nearly overwhelmed her. Had I not been there to pull her out, she might have been lost to it.”
“It is no wonder, then, that her blood is the key to resurrecting the Dark Clan,” Tearloch observed.
“I am not sure I should be the one to train her,” Liam said.
Cathair studied Mel for several long seconds before addressing Liam. “No. You are the best fae for the job. If anyone can teach her control, it is you.”
“You’re wrong.” Liam took a step closer to Cathair and dropped his voice to a whisper. “You know why.”
The look Cathair gave him could have been pity. Or perhaps sympathy.
“I know why you think so. That is what makes you so suited to the task.”
“Please.” Liam never begged. But he needed the prince to release him from this duty.
Cathair straightened his spine. “The assignment stands.”
Liam looked at his prince—his friend—not in anger, but in despair. Cathair knew the price Liam had almost paid. Why would he force him into a situation that might push him over the edge?
The prince stood resolved.
Friendship aside, Cathair was Liam’s direct superior. An order from the prince was an order from his commanding officer. To disobey him would be tantamount to treason.
Liam forced himself to execute a shallow bow, acknowledging his understanding, before turning on his heel and storming off the parapet. He might have been commanded to train Mel, but he had not been ordered to stay on the wall.
He ran down the stairs in a blur. He had to get distance between himself and Mel. Between himself and her power.
His skin still burned with the tingle of her magic.
He itched—everywhere—with the desire to go ba
ck for more. To absorb his fill of her powers, to recharge his long-depleted well. The words repeated in his mind like a mantra. More, more, more.
He ran faster.
His mind went blank, and he knew only that he sought safety. Solitude. Peace. Following a well-worn path, he left through the side door of the palace and set a course into the woods.
Some time later he reached his destination. The small lake, barely more than a pond really, was fed from the melting mountain snows. It remained near-freezing, even into the heat of summer.
By the time he reached the shore, he was unbuttoning his uniform jacket. He tossed it aside. It landed on a boulder that overlooked the water, and his shirt quickly joined it. He kicked off his boots in two short steps. A moment later, his pants were sailing over to the growing pile of clothing.
He hit the surface of the water before his pants landed.
The shock of icy cold water shot through him in an instant. Every muscle in his body constricted, tightened down in an effort to retain as much heat as possible. His lungs fought his chest to keep the breath in his lungs.
He stayed down as long as he could stand. And then a few seconds longer.
By the time he resurfaced, the desperate need for Mel’s magic had been kicked from his system by the desperate need to breathe. He shivered so hard it felt like his spine would break.
Still, he stayed in the water.
He had to make sure the impulse had been chased from his body.
Finally, when he felt on the verge of total hypothermia, he swam to the shore. Pulled himself through the water with jerky movements, crawled up onto the sandy earth.
Flipping over on his back, he stared up at the night sky. The moon stared down at him—in judgement, it seemed.
By the time the shivering stopped, Liam felt as if his thoughts were his own. He had his magic by the throat and refused to let it regain the control it had once held over him.
He was master of his powers, not the other way around.
He could train Mel. He would train Mel. And then he would see her safely home, and never be tempted by her again.
Chapter Thirteen
“Sparks?” Winnie stared at Mel like she was some kind of a rock star. “Like actual, literal sparks?”
When Magic Falls Page 5
