I stared forlornly at the spot from the other side of the room, my stomach screaming with hunger. I wouldn’t be fed dinner until I could teleport at least a few feet and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.
It was my mother and father’s new plan for getting me to learn my magic. Just like with my swordplay, I was terrible at my magic.
Tears prickled at my eyes and I squeezed them shut hard. I was not a crybaby.
If Draka hadn’t come to help me, I’d be all alone up here. I needed to be grateful for that. She was the best friend I’d had in all my eight years.
“I’m trying,” I said.
“You must try harder. Believe in yourself.”
But it was so hard, when I’d failed so many times before.
I squeezed my eyes closed and focused on my magic, pretending that it was a glowing pink light. When I caught it in my hand, I envisioned the spot where Draka stood and gave it everything I had.
The ether sucked me in. When I felt my feet on solid ground once more, I opened my eyes.
I was only halfway across the room! The tears spilled over. “I’ll never learn!”
Draka hurried close, wrapping her arms around me. “Yes, you will. You must practice. It is harder for you.”
“Because of the curse?” I sniffled against her ghostly shoulder, feeling warmed by her embrace.
“Yes, dear. Because of the curse. It is a dark spell that makes your magic harder to control. But you must fight it. Practice, practice. You will learn.”
“But if I am cursed, does that mean that I am bad?”
“No. No, of course not. But you must make sure to always do what is right. That will guide you. Do what is right. Prove you are worthy and the magic will come.”
“If I do what is right, will my parents love me?”
“I do not know. That isn’t something you can control. They are heartless and do not understand you. They do not know how. But you are their heir and must fulfill a role. Therefor you must learn.”
It didn’t make me feel much better. Draka loved me, but she was a Phantom dragon. She didn’t understand feelings the way people did.
But she did love me. Unlike my parents.
“Couldn’t I just tell my parents why I’m bad at my magic?”
“You must not.” Draka leaned back and looked at me. “They would not believe you or think that you were telling tales.”
“I could tell them that you told me.”
“They must not know I exist, or they would drive me away.”
She was right. In my heart, I knew that Draka was my biggest champion—the one who protected me. She came to me when I needed her. But my parents feared the Phantom dragons. Most of our people did.
I stepped back. “Why have I been cursed?”
“I do not know, but I suspect it is because someone does not want you to accomplish something. A dark shadow stalks you. You must learn your magic, because the shadow cannot get whatever it wants. That would be disaster.”
Determination fired in my chest, pushing out the hunger. Whoever it was, they weren’t going to get their way. Because I would learn my magic. I would.
Chapter Eight
I woke with the taste of dust in my mouth and the dream at the back of my mind. Just like last time, my chest ached with longing. I wanted to see my parents so badly that it was a physical pain, like a sword blow to the chest.
I sucked in a hard breath and tried to banish the thoughts.
The room was dark, but the smell familiar.
Home? I blinked in the dark and sat up, my head spinning.
“Whoa, careful.” Roarke’s voice came from the darkness. The bedside light flipped on. He was sitting in a chair near the bed, his hair mussed as if he’d been sleeping. He leaned close, propping his arm on the mattress as his gaze searched mine.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You passed out at the Apothecary’s Jungle.” Anger laced his voice. “When I returned, they’d taken so much blood that you’d almost died.”
“They said that might happen.” Memories flowed back in fits and starts. I’d remembered the language, right? I thought so.
“Well, it was dangerous.”
“I’m fine, though.” Except that my mouth tasted like a feather duster and I felt about three thousand years old. I shifted on the bed, my arm brushing Roarke’s.
He pulled away immediately. He coughed, then said, “Good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Have you been sitting here this whole time?”
“Ever since I brought you back.”
What the heck? And yet he was being so distant. There were questions I wanted to ask, but more than that, I wanted to know if the procedure worked. I didn’t feel any different.
“How did it go with Orson?” I asked. “Did he get back to his place with no memory?”
“I delivered him to Claire. From there, we drove him back to his house in his car and left him in the driveway. That was about sixteen hours ago. I’ve had surveillance on him since then. He woke, was confused, but hasn’t spoken to anyone about you. I think it worked. We’ll have to keep an eye on him though.”
Relief made my chest feel light. “Thank you.”
“You just have to learn to control the magic. Because if the demons keep coming for you, he’ll sense a problem again. He found you once, and he’ll be able to do it twice.”
“Yeah. I know. Where are Cass and Nix?”
“In the living room, playing Scrabble.”
“Oh shit.”
As if on cue, I heard the sounds of an argument.
“That is not a word!” Nix cried.
“Is too! Ferbacious means particularly ornery!”
I grinned at Roarke. “Scrabble is a dangerous game in our family.”
“I can see.”
I struggled to sit fully upright, my muscles aching and weak. My hair felt like it was three weeks dirty, and I was pretty sure I smelled like some kind of forest animal. A glance at the clock showed that it was 2:00 a.m.
“I’m going to shower real quick, then we’ll give this map a try.”
Roarke stood, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’ll go supervise the Scrabble.”
By the time I made it out to the living room, Nix had won and was doing some kind of victory dance. She looked a bit like a chicken, but it worked on her. I could hear Roarke in the kitchen, poking around.
“He’s making coffee,” Cass said.
“Awesome.” I staggered to the couch and sat.
“How do you feel?” Cass asked.
“Spectacular.”
“Liar.”
I shrugged. “Fake it till ya make it, right?”
Cass frowned. “Not sure that applies in this instance.”
“I can make it work.” The leather folder was perched on the coffee table, as if it had been put there just for me.
It probably had.
I sucked in a deep breath and picked it up, then opened it.
The squiggles on the lines were still squiggles. I squinted at them, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Slowly, they coalesced to form words. Not moving on the paper, but in my mind.
“It’s working?” Nix asked.
“Really?” Cass leaned close.
“Yeah. It looks familiar.” I tilted the map slightly. “It’s in Wales, I think. North Wales. There are directions for getting somewhere, but they’re really confusing.”
“Nothing’s ever easy,” Cass said.
“No kidding.” I studied the map and words. “There’s riddles. It looks like we need to get there, then figure it out as we go.”
“But no idea what’s on the other end, huh?” Nix asked.