She shook her head. Her jaw lifted as mutinous anger firmed her lips and sparkled in her eyes.
“I can’t be the only Halfling on Earth!” She glowered at him as though this were all his fault somehow. “You’ve obviously made some mistake. I sure as hell don’t intend to…to mate with a demon!”
“It wouldn’t have to be consensual.” Gideon gave her an apologetic smile. “I don’t think the fact that you might object is even the tiniest concern to Stolas.”
“Stolas?”
“The demon prince leading this rebellion.”
Maggie leaped to her feet. Gideon tensed, prepared to shimmer to the doorway to head her off, but she strode instead toward the fireplace and back. Dragging both hands through her hair, she continued to pace, mumbling under her breath. At length, satisfied she didn’t intend to flee, Gideon relaxed and watched her stomp back and forth across his study.
She whirled on him, desperation evident in her strained tone. “I’m not the only Halfling out there, right?” She stormed right up to him, holding both hands out in supplication. “You could have made a mistake? Grabbed the wrong girl? Right? It’s a possibility, isn’t it?”
“There are other Halflings,” Gideon conceded reluctantly. But he didn’t want to get her hopes up. “They’re rare, first generation rarer still. To our knowledge, you’re the only first generation Halfling still alive. Aside from that, with Michael as your f…as your, ah, sire, the power rolling around inside you is much greater than your average Halfling. Stolas’s already stolen the Sword of Kathnesh and killed its Guardian. We have the Arc Stone. That leaves the scrolls and the Chosen One up for grabs. Whether or not you are the only first generation Halfling out there, we aren’t willing to risk Stolas getting his hands on you. We need to keep you safe. Keep you off his radar.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, sliding downward until she landed on the chair she’d vacated earlier. Haunted eyes turned on him, pleading. “You keep saying I’m so powerful. Really, I’m not. There’s nothing special about me. So I can sense the presence of angels and demons, and I have a useless vision now and again. That’s really not so much, is it?”
His eyes narrowed as he canted his head. “You have visions?”
She nodded numbly. “Sometimes. Of the future. Brief flashes, really. But what good are they? I can’t ever change what happens. I’ve tried.”
“Some things are meant to be,” he stated as calmly as he could, though his mind was racing. Visions? What had she seen? What had she yet to see? As Halflings were exceedingly rare, he couldn’t say what was normal or not normal for a Halfling in the way of what, or how many, powers they might possess. He himself had once been precognitive, knowing things before they happened. And he knew just how frustrating that could be at times.
What other gifts did she possess that had yet to awaken?
From the shaken expression on her face, now didn’t appear to be the optimal time to explain anything further or press her about her “curse”, as she clearly viewed it.
Gideon watched her in silence as she assimilated all he’d told her.
“Can I…can I have a glass of water?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Without a word, not giving it a second thought, he conjured a glass of water on the desk beside her. The Halfling bolted from her chair, hopping sideways with a screech of alarm.
“Sorry. Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “It’s okay. Just water.”
“H-how did you do that?”
“It’s one of our…ah, gifts. Sort of like, picture something and poof, there it is.” That was oversimplifying, but she didn’t exactly look like she was up to technical explanations. “We can vanish them almost the same way,” he added, hoping to eliminate any further stress later, should he forget to warn her about something disappearing.
“Handy,” she said as she took her seat once more. But she didn’t pick up the glass, just stared at it as if it were a snake about to strike.
“Handy, yes. But it comes with certain drawbacks.”
Finally able to drag her attention from the glass of water, she eyed him with wary suspicion. “Such as?”
“Conjuring weakens us. Something small like that glass of water is just a blip. A drop in the bucket, if you will. Barely noticeable. Something bigger—like say, a house or a car—would weaken us much more drastically. Sure, we recover. But how weak we get, and how long it takes to recover, depends on the nature and size of what we conjure. If we’re already weakened, like after we’ve turned demonic and back again, it can actually cause physical pain in some cases.”