“Well, yes, now that you mention it.” She gave a half laugh. “I mean, I’ve been kind of too busy to process everything that’s happened, but I do still feel like I did over there—I don’t know, more alive. My hearing, eyesight, everything is . . . more.”
“You weren’t sure that you could heal me,” he said, as he had earlier. “And maybe you couldn’t a couple of weeks ago. Remember, I said it can make some half-breeds that way when they get immersed in magic from the Other land. Sometimes the magic triggers a reaction and they’re able to come fully into their Wyr nature.”
She gripped fistfuls of his T-shirt. Could what he was telling her be true?
He covered her hands with his, watching her. “How long has it been since you last tried to shift?”
“Years ago,” she whispered. Her eyes went unfocused as she thought back. “After puberty. It was before my mom died. I think I was sixteen. We tried every six months or so. Once I was an adult, medically speaking, we decided there wasn’t any more point in putting either of us through it anymore. She was fine; she loved me no matter what. But I kept getting too disappointed when I couldn’t change.”
He touched her nose. “Sixteen is a very young age to give up. Most Wyr have life spans much longer than humans, even mortal Wyr, and they mature at a later age.”
She hardly dared to breathe. “I don’t know what to think.”
“I can’t make you any promises,” he told her. “But over time I’ve helped a lot of Wyrkind through a difficult first change. If you want to try again and you trust me, I’ll do everything I can to help you.”
THIRTEEN
She threw her arms around him, hugging him hard. Then she pulled away and paced in a circle, her mind racing. She flung herself at him and hugged him again. He laughed and gripped her by the hips to hold her in one place.
“Did you hear me when I said I can’t make any promises?” he demanded.
“Yes, of course I did,” she said, distracted. She focused on him, her face grave. If it worked, she would be hunted for the rest of her life. But the way her life was spiraling out of control, she was going to be hunted anyway.
“All right, then.” He paused. “Think about it. Let me know what you decide.”
She nodded. He kissed her, stroking her cheek. Then he strode over to the door and opened it. Clusters of talking people in the hall sprang to attention.
“Who needs to be here?” he asked. Most scattered like buckshot. A few of his sentinels, including Rune and Graydon, remained. Pia wiped her face on her sleeves in a vain effort to make herself more presentable.
Cuelebre Enterprises’ PR faerie slipped around Dragos and into the conference room while he talked to the others. Beaming, she bounced over to Pia. “Hi! Oh wow, am I pleased to meet you.”
Taken aback, Pia took the little hand the faerie stuck under her nose. “Hi, thank you. You’re Thistle Periwinkle, right?”
“Oh please,” the faerie groaned. “That’s my stupid TV name. Don’t call me that. Call me Tricks; everybody else does.”
“Okay . . . Tricks. I’m Pia.” She smiled. Much as she had never cared for the faerie in television appearances, it was hard not to smile at this compact package of ebullience.
“Listen, I know we don’t have much time.” Tricks waved her hands. “I’m busy, you’re busy, everybody’s busy. I’ve got a lot I want to say to you, though.”
“All right,” Pia told her. “Hit me with it.”
“First, I’m so sorry about what my uncle Urien did to you guys. I hate him, he killed my family, and we’re going to cut off his head, and then I have to be Queen, but before that happens let’s do lunch, okay?”
Pia felt like the faerie had just jumped on her head and started tap-dancing on it. She said, “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Tricks told her. “And I wanted to say you did an awesome job with Mr. and Mrs. I-Keep-My-Dignity-Stuck-Up-My-Ass. Really awesome job.”
Pia burst out laughing. “You’re talking about the Elves.”
Tricks blinked and wrinkled her freckled nose. “Of course. You want a job?”
“What?”
“I need to hire someone to take over my PR job, with the upcoming assassination and taking the throne and all, and I think you’d be great. Oh, never mind; we don’t have time to talk about that right now. We’ll talk about that over lunch.” The faerie looked over her shoulder. She made a V with the first and second fingers of both hands and waved them like President Nixon. “Two more things real quick. One, just so you know, not everybody’s happy about you being here. A lot of folks are great, I mean, you know, in a Wyr kind of way, but there are also some people that I think are nasty-dangerous characters. Not that I’m talking about anything specific, just . . . There are a lot of predators that work here. That means there are some pretty hot heads and sometimes things blow up without much warning, so you just want to watch out for yourself.”