I swallow the thickness in my throat. “No.”
“As innone?With your…um, demon?”
“No more than usual.” My cheeks heat. It feels surreal to be discussing this most shamefulthingI’ve kept hidden for so many years.
“Right.” His brow furrows as he continues staring at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite figure out. I creep forward and sit at the edge of the couch, pulling my knees up to my chest.
He settles on the opposite end. “Are you…ready to talk? Or we can wait awhile if you’d rather just—“ He breaks off uncertainly, checking my face for clues.
“What will you do with me?”
“I’m going to train you.”
Train me?Now, without emotions clouding my view, my brain analyzes the fuzzy memories, the things he said the night before. “I’m not a Magi.”
He heaves a sigh. “Okay, let’s unravel that a little because I know all of this is quite a lot.”
“I’m not a Magi,” I say stubbornly. He opens his mouth and closes it. Opens it again. He’s wearing only his short black braies and my eyes flicker over his bare chest of their own volition, remembering what the skin felt like under my hands. But after everything that’s happened, that will likely…never happen again. I turn my head toward the opposite wall. He should really wear more clothes.
“What makes you so certain you’re not?”
“I wasn’t born like this, Sitri. The daemon hit me and attached to my soul. I felt it,” I say, idly running a hand over my chest.
“I have a theory about that.”
Slowly, I turn my gaze back to him.
“Theurgynate. The fact any magic came out of you in that place is a testament to how powerful you are. You must’ve grown somewhat of a tolerance to it. But that was likely years in the making. I think when you fell…that was you. Your magic. The first time your magic finally revealed itself after years of being…poisoned,” he says distastefully.
My brows furrow.
“I think your hair and the mark on your chest is evidence of how living behind the Wall for all these years as a Magi has affected you.” He scratches at his nose. “I wouldn’t have thought that would be possible. Which is why I was so certain that…” He trails off, biting at the side of his lip. “You said it’s gotten worse, yes? Since when?”
I give him a blank look.
“Since you came here?”
I nod reluctantly.
“Because you are finally free of the theurgynate, Pan.”
I shake my head. “The daemon doesn’t respond to my will. I can’t control it.”
“It does. It reacts to your emotions, does it not? Especially when your emotions are heightened?”
“It has a knack for timing,” I retort, but I know it's a feeble argument. It does worsen with my emotions. He snorts softly. “I can’t control it,” I repeat dejectedly.
“I’m going to teach you.”
I shake my head. “I’m not a Magi, Sitri. I’m…a nought.”
He rises swiftly, slides one knee to the couch to lean over me, and I shrink back.
“I felt you, Pandora.Your magic.You are powerful,” he says eyes growing wide. “I am a Magi.” He taps a finger against his chest. “Do you think I don’t know what a Magi feels like? What magic feels like?”
“You didn’t know…this whole time.”
“I should’ve.” He shakes his head. “I was blind. I should’ve known when Div took you as his master. He attaches himself to power.You are power. Why do you think the henbane called us to each other? How do you think you brewed the leaf of moly? Because you are a Magi, Pandora.”
