Page 16 of Magic Forsaken
Faris’s face didn’t quite turn to granite again, but it was close. “Talia, I’ve demonstrated remarkable restraint under the circumstances, but it only goes so far.” His eyes grew wintery cold and his jaw clenched so hard that the tendons in his neck went rigid. “This woman is no one’s pet, and she has done nothing to earn my disapproval. She’s proven only that she’s capable of kicking your ass, which is not an actual crime, so I suggest you not act as if you can tell me what to do in my own court.”
Oh my hecking heck.
How I managed not to smirk after that speech, I will never know.
I could tell Talia didn’t like it. Her face turned to ice—I could literally see the lacy patterns of frost spread across her cheeks—but she finally deigned to tilt her head. “My apologies,” she said, in a glacial tone that conveyed no actual remorse.
I suddenly wondered whether etiquette demanded that I apologize as well, considering that it appeared I’d actually taken her own elemental magic away from her.
Possibly.
But was I going to? Nope.
I was going to shut up, and I was going to do so with every fiber of my being, because right now, what I needed most was for everyone to forget exactly what I’d done.
Namely, that I’d lost control. Somehow, after holding it back for so long, another piece of my magic had broken free, and part of me felt like a cramped muscle had finally relaxed. It had seemed so beautiful and natural. So effortless.
When in reality, there was nothing beautiful or natural about it.
In an effort to forget—and possibly to reinforce my own denial—I turned to restoring order, picking up a toppled chair and setting it upright while doggedly ignoring the tension around me.
And to my relief, it actually seemed to work. The scene that ensued suggested—much to my dismay—that this level of disruption and destruction was not an uncommon occurrence at The Portal. Three people with brooms and mops and a sleepy-looking air elemental named Alicia appeared as if by literal magic, descended on the room, and, with Talia’s help, soon had the club almost entirely back to normal.
While the last of the sweeping and mopping was wrapping up, Faris, Talia, and Callum gathered on one side of the dance floor for a tense conversation. Were they talking about those answers Talia wanted? The Symposium? Or were they talking about me? Surely my little breach of decorum would be soon forgotten amid the many vastly important things three court leaders would have to talk about.
Things like… Well, I had no idea. I was still just trying to breathe normally as I shut my eyes and contemplated the bizarre facts of my current situation.
Three courts. In the same room. The elemental queen already hated me, the shifter king was still occasionally favoring me with intense, speculative looks, and Faris seemed moderatelyresigned to my existence. How had I somehow managed to accomplish so very literally the exact opposite of what I’d intended?
When my eyes opened again, Faris was staring at me over his shoulder, as if he’d somehow been listening in on my thoughts.
“Sit down before you fall over,” he suggested. “We’ll discuss your part in this in a moment.”
I wasn’t in any danger of collapsing, but it seemed wise to obey, so I took a seat at the bar and rested my elbows on its polished walnut surface. For some reason, Draven and Kira lingered on one side of my barstool, while behind the bar, Seamus gave me an encouraging smile and slid a glass full of something golden and sparkly in my direction.
“Rough first day?” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Nope,” I lied cheerfully. “Just about average.” Was it really lying when everyone knew it was sarcasm? And honestly, in terms of bad days, it wasn’t even in my top ten.
I picked up the glass and stared at it for a moment. “What is this?”
“Ginger ale,” he assured me. “I stock it for Kira, since she doesn’t care for any of my stronger stuff. You just looked like you could use a blood sugar boost.”
Fair enough. I still sniffed the glass, but sensed nothing out of the ordinary.
“I respect your caution,” Seamus said, all trace of humor gone from his tone, “but you should know that I take my responsibilities seriously. I would never serve anything mood or mind-altering to anyone unless they knew exactly what they were getting. Not even an enemy.”
Strangely enough, I believed him, so I took a sip and let the slightly spicy bubbles slip down my throat. “So… Do you think I’m in trouble?”
The shapeshifter shrugged. “Faris will have questions, but he isn’t going to hand you over to the elementals just because you’re powerful. He treats everyone equally unless you mess with his customers.”
Which I had kind of done. And I didn’t have very much time to come up with a story that would explain exactly how or why—a story that would cling to the fringes of the truth while also concealing it.
“I didn’t actually mean to do it,” I admitted, with a shrug and a wry twist to my lips. “It just sort of… happened.”
“You’re a bit old to be losing control of your magic.” Seamus sounded skeptical. Maybe even judgey. “Especially when you’re that powerful. If you don’t practice, this kind of thing tends to become a problem.”
“I… didn’t know I needed to practice?” I told him, honestly enough. “I was raised as a human, and my parents never taught me anything about my magic.”