“Defensive magic is based on protecting the mage,” he said. “I created that spell when I was a sophomore as a final project. The theory is sound, but the execution requires certain information I don’t have.”
“You created this in college?”
“High school.” He shrugged. “I wanted to do something no one else had done.”
I’d come to Bart hoping he could tell me if there was danger to Cinaed, but he’d given me a solution to the real problem I faced. After weeks of fighting off despair, I finally saw a light in the distance. It was a ways off, but it was there. Given fate wanted me and Cinaed to be together, I took this as a positive sign.
“I see that look in your eye, Rod,” Bart sat across from me and pointed toward the book. “Don’t get your hopes up. If Ailpein’s spell targeted his flock, the magic might have already bonded with Cinaed. I won’t know if that happened until I examine a phoenix.”
One very specific phoenix. My mate. I didn’t want to ask a question, but I needed to know. “Assuming the magic soaked into Cinaed, can you reverse it?”
The answer was visible in his face before he spoke the words. “I don’t know. Depending on the spell, undoing the effects might kill even a phoenix.”
Bart had tried to be helpful, but it had the opposite effect. He’d given me a sliver of hope, and then dropped an anvil on my head. The best option, convincing Ailpein to revoke the spell, was also the one least likely to succeed.
I couldn’t give in to the despair creeping into my soul. As hard as it was to resist, I had to try. Cinaed was hurting too much already.
Bart and Otto had better make a convincing argument or else Cinaed and I might not be around to help create the new Great Ward.
Chapter Two
Cinaed FionnLaoch:
The sharp stab of pain didn’t just arrive, it invaded the marrow of my bones. This time, the attack occurred while I was outside, which gave me a clearer idea of its source. I could rule out the castle. Unfiltered by our ancestral home, there wasn’t a trace of phoenix magic in the warning.
And it was a warning. That much was finally clear.
In the face of such a clear danger, the instinctual urge to shift nearly took over. Not since I was a teenager struggling to master my powers had I spontaneously burst into flames and ruined my clothes. Losing control would have ruined one of my favorite shirts. Roderick had bought it for me the last time we were in London together.
The accompanying vertigo was brief, but it left me unsteady. Thankfully, I’d been seated, or I’d have face-planted in Mother’s rose bed. She’d spent centuries cultivating these bushes, and I would never forgive myself if I crushed her hard work.
I pulled my cloak tightly around my body despite the warmth of the garden. Outside it was a frigid Scottish early Decemberday, but inside these walls, Mother made sure the temperature never dropped below fifteen degrees or above twenty-five.
The feeling was more ominous than before. It pummeled me with its insistence. I’d asked around the last time, but no one else had been affected. Grandfather brushed it aside, but not without gifting me with a questioning glare. I didn’t need to read his thoughts to know he suspected the mage world was behind the attack. One specific mage and his family.
He was wrong. The Hollens wouldn’t try to subvert Grandfather’s spell because Roderick promised me he wouldn’t without my permission. I’d never met a more honorable being than Rod. No matter how much he disagreed with me, he’d never tried to change my mind.
My fingers curled into the thick wool of my robe, forcing back the burning sensation that preceded my regeneration. Aside from destroying my clothes, I couldn’t afford to go to ash when my father was coming to talk about the negotiations.
The truth was I didn’t really care about politics. I was the youngest of my generation and so far from the throne, sometimes I couldn’t see it from my position. What mattered to me was when I would see Roderick again. His steady presence grounded me. Together we’d make sense of these warnings.
His absence, however, was all my fault. I’d been naive to believe I could convince Grandfather to change his mind. That mistake had cost us decades, and now we might never have the chance to complete our bond.
Father’s arrival stopped the self-recrimination building inside. His timing was fortuitous. It wasn’t good for my state of mind to dwell on such negative thoughts. I collected myself and stood to greet him. His smile faded as soon as we locked eyes.
“Another one?” His voice carried equal measures of concern and resignation.
I nodded weakly as we settled onto the bench. He put his arm around my shoulder, and it helped steady me as the last hints of the distress receded into a distant echo. Unlike my grandfather’s formal stiffness, Father had always been demonstrative with his affection.
“They’re getting worse,” I admitted. “Something’s coming, but I don’t understand what the magic is trying to tell me.”
“I assume Roderick told you his brother’s theory?” I nodded and he continued. “Your grandfather dismissed it as the mages trying to scare him into changing his mind.”
Hardly surprising given how strident he’d become. “I partially agree with Grandfather. I don’t think this is the Earth telling him to change his mind or else. If that were the case, he would feel the same thing as me. I’m being singled out, but I’m not smart enough to understand what I’m being told.”
“Roderick will be here tomorrow with his two brothers,” Father said. “Chancellor Hollen insisted we meet with all three.”
The frown on his face suggested this had been a heated conversation. “Grandfather didn’t want Roderick.”
