Page 97 of Ancient Magic

Lynx stubbornly shook his head. “The sword is here. It has to be.”

“Who told you the location?”

“It was given to me...in a vision.” He glared at Micha as he stumbled over the words. “I’m the chosen one.”

“A lie.” Micha didn’t need his skills to realize that Lynx was inventing his supposed vision. “Someone convinced you that you were a mystical hero, and you were so eager to believe them that you were willing to risk everything to claim your precious destiny.”

Lynx flushed as Micha’s accusation hit him right where it hurt.

His pride.

“I’ve always known I was special,” the fairy hissed.

Micha took another step forward, ignoring the pulsing red glow. “Who persuaded you to steal the crystal and come here?”

“The Tempest is a kids’ story fed to every demon,” he insisted. “I just didn’t know that I was a direct descendent to the original Lynx.”

“So how did you find out?” Micha pressed.

Lynx’s eyes darted from side to side, as if seeking the nearest exit. Or maybe he was hoping the sword would magically appear so he could get rid of Micha once and for all.

When nothing materialized, he returned his attention to Micha with a sour expression.

“I was given a private diary along with this medallion from my ancestor.” Using his empty hand, Lynx reached beneath his shirt to pull out a large metal pendant hanging on a thick chain with an opal in the center. “The diary had an etching of a fairy who looked almost identical to me.” The green eyes flared with a fierce satisfaction at the memory. “I suddenly realized my dreams of leading the demon world hadn’t been empty fantasies. They’d been a glimpse into my future.”

“Ah.” Micha abruptly chuckled. “You weren’t Lynx. You changed your name to match the story.”

“It seemed appropriate.”

“And the same mystery person who gave you the diary also told you that the crystal would lead you to the sword?” Micha demanded.

“Eventually.” Lynx took a covert step to the side. Then another. Was he going to make a run for it? Behind him, Micha felt a hum of magic surround Skye, as if she had the same thought and was preparing a spell to stop the fairy. “First I had to prove I was the genuine heir,” Lynx continued, trying to keep them preoccupied.

Micha didn’t care why he was sharing how he’d come to believe he was some chosen warrior. Not as long as he eventually revealed who’d been helping him.

“By deluding a bunch of outcast demons to follow you into a losing cause?” Micha taunted.

Genuine outrage rippled over Lynx’s perfect features. “I prefer outcasts. Any demon can survive by kissing the ass of a leech. It takes genuine skill to succeed with your own cunning. My horde is a team of survivors.”

“You took over Dexter’s horde,” Skye abruptly intruded into the conversation. “They’re a team of idiots.”

Lynx shrugged, conceding her point. “Some are more talented than others.”

“So how did you prove your worth?” Micha prodded him to continue his story.

There were more cautious steps to the side. Micha allowed the idiot to believe he hadn’t noticed.

“After years of gaining a following among the demons, I wasn’t surprised when I was approached by a demon with royal blood and powerful connections,” Lynx boasted. “It was inevitable that my brilliance would be recognized and rewarded.”

“Lucky you,” Skye muttered.

Lynx flushed. “Not luck. Talent.”

Micha sent out a pulse of compulsion. Lynx was too powerful to compel an answer, but he could encourage him to reveal the name.

“Who was the demon?”

“Igor Triton.”

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