The words start to crack through my defenses, and my lips part. But some still stand strong. “Sitri…the daemon isn’tmethough.” I feel a flush working up my face, and I dip my head. “It has its own will. I can feel it. It feels…angry. Like itwantsto destroy things.”
He chuckles. He chuckles? I draw my head back up as he slides his knee off the couch and paces a few steps back. “I’m starting to understand why you didn’t tell me about this.” He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair.
“First off, it’s not a demon or whatever the fuck has been drilled into your head to make you believe something is wrong with you.” His voice softens. “So stop calling it that. Magic is a…need, Pan. Like,” he lifts a palm, eyes gliding over the room. “Hunger or…sex. It needs release, and you’ve spent twenty-three years denying yourself of that. You are understandably frustrated.”
“Sitri…”
“Pandora…” he imitates. He flashes me a wide grin, tongue skirting the bottom of those two crooked teeth. Isn’t he mad at me? How can he look at me like that after what I’ve done? Even the potion isn’t enough to keep my chest from squeezing. I look away. He retreats back to the table to continue working through whatever concoction he’s brewing. When I peek back up at him, his face has gone somber.
I pull myself to my feet and begin pacing the chambers. “How?”
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, scrutinizing me again. “You are very strong.”
“Syra isn’t like me,” I argue. “She’s my twin. If I was a Magi wouldn’t she be too?”
He shakes his head, stuffing his hands through his hair. “I don’t know, pet. I just know thatyouare.”
“I’m…a Magi? I whisper, trailing a hand over my bottom lip.
“Undeniably.”
I continue pacing, pulling strands of hair into my hands and tugging them to my chin, feeling like my entire world has been flipped on its head. I don’t know…anything. “That doesn’t make any sense! What does this even mean?”
“It means…I have to teach you how to control it, and you can’t expose yourself.”
“You don’t want people to know?”
“No one can know,” he says gravely.
“You want me to keep pretending to be a nought?”
He grimaces. “Yeah, sorry, but they wouldn’t understand. I didn’t understand…and I’m your ally here. And you must remain my punishment, remember?”
“Myally?” I repeat. The word feels even more bitter than punishment. Is that what we are—allies?
“Yes, I’m your ally,” he murmurs.
He busies himself back in his brewing, removing the cauldron of honeyed liquid from the flames. “I’m making you a couple of things that will help. Nepenthe if your magic becomes too difficult to tolerate, and valeriana is a sedative in case you…really need it. But I really don’t want you taking nepenthe regularly during the day because we need to start training in the evenings. It’s important you learn as quickly as possible.”
My face pales.So I don’t kill anyone else.
“Anyhow, I really need to get going…” he says, looking up at the clock.
“You’re leaving?” Of course, he’s leaving. He always leaves, but today? Now? It feels absurd. I’m going to spend my day alone? After…everything?
“Still trying to catch up with the last…interference.”
When he was wounded….just a few days ago. It feels like…ages ago with everything that’s happened.
“I’m leaving this out in case you really need it, but do try not to take it in the evenings because it does dull your magic, and we need that to train. We’ll start tonight.”
I just nod.
I don’t notice the knives have been removed until some time after Sitri leaves. Every single one. Must’ve slipped the one he’d been using in his cloak. Not just the knives. Half of the vials on the shelf are missing, too. Anything remotely dangerous.
Maybe there should be happiness in this new revelation. I’m not possessed. I do not have a daemon attached to my soul. I’ve been a Magi this whole time. I’m not a nought. But I don’t find any relief. Not in the way it’s been discovered. It doesn’t actually change anything for me…especially since Sitri doesn’t want anyone to know. When the potion wears off…I just feel hollow. Sitri doesn’t return in time for dinner.
“Ready to do this?” he asks when he finally strides in late that night before he’s even called out a greeting.
