If everyone knew that I could call on the magic myself, some of the people who just wanted to use me might decide I was too dangerous and side with those who wanted to kill me. Which meant I couldn’t admit to anyone—not even my father—that I could sense when magic was in the air. It made my insides quiver to know that Ethan knew my secret, because I couldn’t completely trust him. And the idea that the Erlking might have guessed …
I shook off these thoughts as best I could, then shut myself in my bedroom as far away from Finn as I could get. I didn’t know how close he’d have to be to sense the magic building, but he hadn’t come running the previous times I’d tried to gather magic, so I hoped that meant my bedroom was far enough away.
I took a deep breath to calm myself—the idea of calling on the magic automatically kicked my pulse into overdrive—then started on the series of vocalises I used to warm up my voice before I practiced singing. (Don’t ask me why I still practiced when I didn’t have a voice teacher here in Avalon.)
The first few times I’d tried to call the magic, it had taken me a while to manage it. I’d gone through the vocalises, then had to sing a few songs before I’d start to feel the prickle of magic on my skin. Today, it went much faster. By the time I’d finished my first set of scales, I already felt a sense of something … foreign in the room.
I wasn’t sure at first what it was, wasn’t sure it wasn’t my imagination. But when I moved on from scales to arpeggios, the feeling intensified, and the hairs at the back of my neck stood at attention. My voice faltered, and I was a bit flat at the top of the arpeggio, but the prickling presence remained. Apparently it didn’t mind a sour note here and there.
Hoping to build on my early success, I skipped the rest of my warm-ups and went straight on to “Brahms’ Lullaby,” one of the very first songs I’d learned when I started taking voice lessons. It was a lot simpler than the songs and arias I’d been working on when I’d run away from home, but the simplicity and familiarity made it easier for me to stay on key as the presence of magic made my concentration waver.
The air felt thick around me, harder to breathe, and it was all I could do not to rub my arms to try to dispel the prickling sensation. It felt like little clawed mouse feet were racing back and forth across my skin, the feeling more intense than ever. Despite my usually perfect pitch, I was floundering now, my voice sometimes sharp, sometimes flat as I fought to keep myself under control.
This was progress, I knew. The magic that surrounded me was stronger than ever before, and had come more quickly to my call. Now if only I could figure out how to make it do something. Other than make me feel like a hallucinating mental patient, that is.
My breath came shorter in the heavy air, and I wasn’t able to sustain the long notes. My head spun, and I realized if I didn’t do something fast, I was going to hyperventilate and pass out.
I focused my attention on the door to my bedroom. Kimber had told me that there were certain simple spells that almost all the Fae could do. One of them was locking or unlocking doors. I had nothing more than a little button lock on my bedroom door, and I concentrated on the image of that button being pressed by an invisible hand.
The lullaby was nearing its end, and I was having to sneak a breath every few notes. I don’t even want to know what I sounded like. I’m sure it wasn’t pretty, between the sour notes and the gasps for air. It was bad enough now that even the magic seemed to be losing interest. I could feel it receding, the air becoming easier to breathe, the prickling starting to subside.
Still, I kept staring at my door, willing it to lock itself with the power that was left in the room. But nothing happened, and moments later, when the lullaby came to an end, I was alone in my room once more.
* * *
I tried two more times to call the magic during the remaining days of my captivity, and the result was the same. Lots of magic in the air, and nothing to show for it. I was so frustrated I could scream.
When Monday finally rolled around, I was so ready to escape my cave that I wished Kimber and I had scheduled our spa visit for first thing in the morning. Unfortunately, our appointment wasn’t until one o’clock, which made for what felt like the longest morning in the history of the universe.
The Erlking was still hanging around Avalon, so I still had to take two guards with me whenever I left the safe house. I’d assumed that my second guard for this outing would be Lachlan—and that Finn would do some kind of hocus-pocus to confirm it was really him before letting me near him—but it turned out I was wrong.
My dad showed up promptly at noon, carrying a to-go bag that smelled heavenly. He smiled at my surprise.
“I’m sure Lachlan is a perfectly capable second guard,” he told me, “but I have the luxury of having some free time for once, so I thought I’d fill in for him. You don’t mind, do you?”
He made the question sound casual, but there was something almost … tentative to his manner. Was he worried I’d hold a grudge over him grounding me? It was true that living with my mom had meant I’d had practically zero experience with true parental authority, but though I hadn’t exactly enjoyed being grounded, there was something so normal and ordinary about it that I found it hard to resent him. At least not for that.
I shrugged, wondering if my gesture looked any more genuinely casual than his. “Fine with me. What have you brought?”
Dad held up the takeout bag for display. “Lunch from Lachlan’s bakery. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a selection.”