Page 139 of Shades of Silver City

I do as he says, shutting my eyes and trying to summon the foreign spirit within me. Minutes go by, and my arms begin to protest the static position.

“Focus,” Arlo says again. “I have quite the packed schedule. A lab to rebuild—thank you—ministries to glamour, and a pretty little soul-seer who awaits my return.”

“What?” My eyes fly open, and my chest tightens. Whirling around, I storm toward Arlo and grip his jacket in my fists. “What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckles.

“If you touch her, I swear to the Gods—”

“You’ll what, Archer?” He smirks. “We made a deal.”

Instantly, the gravity of the situation weighs me down. “That was before I knew you had Tasia.” I try to tighten my grip, but my fingers freeze, unresponsive. They loosen their grip of their own accord, and my body jolts back a step.

Magic.

From the bargain.

He has Tasia.

My pulse quickens.

“Alas, here we are,” Arlo says. “I imagine she’ll need human facilities and sustenance rather soon, so perhaps we can move along with our little lesson and I may be on my way.”

My mind trips over itself trying to figure out a way around Arlo’s bargain. Perhaps I can have Godric harm him for me—on my behalf. Or perhaps I can tie him up and keep him somewhere safe yet isolated. That’s not technically harming him.

With more force than I intended, I slam my palms against the ash tree, closing my eyes and shutting out the world around me.

I search for the tree’s soft buzz of energy, the one I find when drawing replenishment from nature. I locate it swiftly, but instead of drawing the energy toward me, I focus on expelling my own energy outward.

It works. A steady stream of spirit begins to leave me.

My vision goes black, and my hearing fades into nothing but a low hum as I force it out.

After a moment, I’m no longer forcing it. It’s flowing naturally, like a steady stream. When the last of the unfamiliar soul leaves my being, I gasp for air, sucking in a big breath. All at once, my vision and hearing come back. Quickly, I draw in nature’s regular energy, replenishing my magic stores.

Like the fae I am, I realize.

A boiling fury courses through me, and I turn, striding toward Arlo until we’re face to face.

“I will never be a monster like you,” I spit.

“You call me a monster, yet you are exactly the same as me.” He gestures toward the tree I utilized to liberate Reed’s soul.

“No. I released the soul to find its peace.” He doesn’t need to know it was selfish, that I did it to rid myself of the ill feeling it gave me. “I do not consume souls for my own gain.”

He laughs, a surprised look crossing his face. “No wonder you fight me so.” He shakes his head. “There’s much you’ve yet to learn about your own folk.”

“You’re not my people.”

“Am I not?” He smiles smugly. “I’m surprised your whore of a mother didn’t tell you—”

Red fills my vision, and I vibrate with rage, unable to physically make a move on him. “You will not speak of my mother in such a manner,” I yell.

“—about our father,” he says, ignoring my outburst.

My heart stalls.

Our father.

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