Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

L uc couldn’t take his eyes off Rose as they started the slow ascent to the mountain pass from Compass Lake Village. While he held the reins with one hand, his magic bounced a stone gently in the other. His power was behaving this morning, but the day was still young. No matter what she said about just needing to slow down, or her overdoing it—it angered him that his magic caused her to pass out yesterday. He thought his magic was protective of her, especially since their conversation on the beach. Overwhelming and exhausting her was the exact opposite of that. He sighed. It was back to its usual disappointments. His power acted with a mind of its own on occasion, especially where she was involved. He would concentrate even more than usual to keep it from slipping its leash.

The stone bounced in his hand, and he could smell his magic. He was sure Rose could, too, even though she rode ahead. The first time Rose described his magic so succinctly was burned into his memory. He had wanted to marvel at her for how she described it but knew he needed to focus instead on the fact that she had described it. Something a half-fae weapons master should not have been able to do. His magic had also liked her description, flexing whenever it could since then, to ensure her awareness of its presence.

How many other fae thought of their power as a separate entity? He shook his head. His magic was a mess.

Winter solstice generally came to mind when he thought of his power. The scent of pine wreaths around the house, and the cinnamon that Andrew added to their mulled wine. He liked to think of this as his power’s one good feature. Reminding him of fond memories with Aaron, and later Aaron, Andrew, and the children. Most other associations with his magic were a bit darker.

Watching the scene Rose found yesterday was a harsh reminder of all the memories he’d buried. When he closed his eyes, he could still picture it: the terror on the other children’s faces as the ground started to shake. The rage in his heart as he saw cracks form and the ground shift beneath Anthony. Then, the ice-cold fear prickling on his spine and the pounding nausea in his throat when he thought he’d hurt someone. That he’d been happy to do it. He hated remembering that feeling, especially given the other incidents.

The one she found was bad, but it wasn’t the last time his magic had taken charge when his emotions were intense. His mind wandered to another event, the first one significant enough to draw the notice of the Suden Point. Within days of the awful incident, Michael had been on his doorstep asking to test him. Even as a child, he understood the test had been a formality. The Suden Point didn’t leave Compass Lake to meet just anyone. He said he felt the earth shake all the way up at Suden house and needed to find out where the magic had come from.

Even the older fae, the leader of the Suden court, had shown a little trepidation at meeting him. Luc couldn’t ignore that Michael’s care and attention finally got him through school, though. Michael had taught him how to hold tight to his magic, if not control it. His guidance stopped the accidents from occurring.

Until Rose.

The archer that shot at Rose on their trip was the first time he’d lost control in ten years. Rose had been in danger, and his magic had buried the archer alive in retaliation. Thankfully, Rose and her hidden depths had saved him from himself. But his power’s reaction to her—it was one more thing to worry about. Sometimes, it ran on pure instinct. He thought its instinct was to protect her. But his magic ran too deep, too strong, too all-encompassing to let off its leash in one of its single-minded pursuits—no matter how much they both wanted her. Yesterday proved the point.

Even when it seemed hell-bent on protecting her, it was still unpredictable. He shook his head again as the rock bounced in his hand. How could he have miscalculated? She’d passed out from going too deep. It had coaxed her down into its depths and then swallowed her whole, and all he did was watch.

Of course, she wanted to try again. But a magical weapon was not worth her safety. He’d done without for this long. If the mist struck, he could borrow one of hers. He didn’t need the amplification one of her weapons would give him. The only problem was, she wouldn’t like that response. She would ask again—soon. And denying her was as much a struggle as controlling his power.

His gaze slid back to Rose. When she’d returned from the Vesten gardens last night, she said they hadn’t been caught. But if he had to guess based on how Carter was staring daggers into her back… He hoped she had come up with an excuse but knew she hadn’t. She was dead set on being honest with the Compass Points—and if she couldn’t be honest, she would say nothing. He grabbed the rock from the air as it bounced and closed his fist around it. He was sure that wouldn’t go well. Rolling his head, he stretched his neck, readying for the long day of riding ahead.

He moved to spur his horse to catch up with Rose when he felt Juliette drop back to ride beside him.

“A word,” she said.

He nodded. “Of course.”

“You’ll forgive me if I ask a slightly rude question, given the nature of this quest,” she started.

He was not sure he would forgive it, but he gestured for her to continue regardless.

“Do you commune with Aterra?”

He squeezed the rock in his fist, grinding it into dust. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the same thing Rose meant when she asked me about my connection to Zrak. Do you have a means of communicating with him?”

An unmistakable rage flooded through him. His eyes flashed red and his magic grew thick in the air. He reined it in. Conceptually, he understood that Compass Points were supposed to commune with their patrons, but to his knowledge, none of them did. Juliette hadn’t really answered Rose’s question when she’d asked at the Solstice Ball. She had said she still worshiped the Lost God, but what did that really mean? Luc shook his head. Not that he wanted a connection with Aterra at this point. His face must have pinched at the thought, and Juliette held up her hands in a gesture of peace.

“I mean no offense, Luc. I’m merely trying to ascertain if we overlooked a simple solution. I see from your expression that we did not.”

“If I had a means of communing with him, don’t you think I would have known what he was doing?” Luc asked.

Juliette raised her chin but said nothing.

“Ahh, I see.” He let his lip curve into a smirk. “You think I did know.”

She moved her horse back into line without further explanation.

Her insinuation that he was in league with Aterra was unfortunate, but not unexpected. He knew Carter and Juliette disliked him. He had thought it was because he opposed their plans when they sided with Aiden—but that was too easy. He should know by now that it always returned to his power. They didn’t trust it. It shouldn’t surprise him. He didn’t even always trust it. He thought back to what Arie told him before he’d left the night before.

The black bird had flown through the open window as he slipped into bed with a book. It was late, but he was waiting up.

“Where’s Rose?” he asked as he saw Arie but felt no disturbance walking through the house yet.

“ I left her on the Suden side of the property line. She’ll be a few minutes yet.”

“Which side?” he asked.

The bird shook its beak at him.

“It’s irrelevant. I want to talk to you. Rose asked me about evaluating your magic tonight.”

He sat up. He wasn’t sure he liked Rose talking about his power, but he also wanted to hear what Arie had to say about it.

“ Don’t look like that. She didn’t tell me it was your magic her questions were about, but I’m a god, not a moron. She was asking if there was such a thing as a fae’s power being too overwhelming to understand. If there was a limit to her weapon-making’s ability to capture the essence of the wielder’s magic.”

That sounded like Rose. She would assume her passing out was a failure on her part, not a defect of his magic. “What did you tell her?”

“Your power is strong. I doubt I have to explain that to you.” He paused, and his head cocked slightly as if listening for something. “ I don’t know if her magic has limits, but I think you should let her continue testing them. Your power won’t hurt her.”

Luc caught Arie’s phrasing. His power wouldn’t hurt her. Arie, too, must think of his magic as a separate entity. Luc shook his head. “I thought the same until this morning,” he said bitterly.

“Your magic this morning didn’t hurt her. It overwhelmed her. There is a difference.”

“What do you mean? She was on the ground, passed out because of my magic. That seems like hurt to me.” Luc swore the bird smirked at him, but surely that wasn’t possible with a beak.

“Believe me, she knew she should have stopped this morning. But her magic is drawn to yours as much as yours is drawn to hers. She will just need to learn to go a little slower with the evaluation.”

Luc made a noncommittal grunt, but his heart beat a little faster at Arie’s words.

“It’s not quite the same, but my magic overwhelmed Kenna, the first Vesten Point, in a similar way. I didn’t know how to separate various aspects of my power. I gave too much, too quickly, leaving the Vesten with shift and flame. I didn’t hurt them, though. I intended to help, and my magic was my intention.”

“My power has its own intentions,” Luc grumbled. He rarely spoke about it at this level with anyone, but he figured a god was a good place to start.

“I suspect that’s because you never quite learned how to tame it. Your power is too tangled up in instances of lost control.” Arie gave Luc a knowing look that had Luc wondering how much of his past the god was familiar with. “I’d even hazard to tell you that because of those incidents, you fear the depth of your magic, though I know you’ll reject that.”

Luc bristled at the idea. He didn’t fear his power—it was a part of him. He couldn’t fear himself. He laughed, realizing he only used this argument when it suited him. His power was part of him, so he couldn’t fear it, but it wasn’t part of him when it was beyond his control. He knew he needed to sort out his relationship with his magic—soon.

He focused on Arie’s first words. They felt truer. He never learned how to tame it. “You’re telling me to let her try again?”

“I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do. That is between you and Rose. I’m telling you what we both know: She will ask to try again. And I’m trying to help you understand that you don’t have to put her off forever.”

Luc pulled his hand across his face as he thought about Arie’s words. He smirked. Now Rose was drawing the gesture from him even when not in the room. “Thanks,” he said for his apparent godly wisdom. Met with silence, he looked back to where the bird had been perched on the bed—he was already gone.

“So much for goodbye,” Luc mumbled as he lay back down to stew on what the Lord of Fire had said, waiting for Rose to return.