Page 47 of A Touch of Brimstone

“No,” I sputtered. It didn’t ring true or have the level of assertion to wipe away his smirk.

“Luna, why do you really want this?”

His brow hitched as he studied me. I wasn’t giving him anything.

“We want the same thing. As you said, our interests align.”

Nodding his head slowly, he considered my answer, but it was apparent he remained unconvinced.

“If there’s a protection spell around the markings, how do we get around it?” I was genuinely curious about that, but the question also served to redirect his scrutiny.

“Magic. We have to get you your own. That should be an acceptable workaround.”

It’s that easy? Just get you magic and while we’re at it, let’s end world hunger, negotiate global peace, and develop great-tasting zero-calorie chocolate.

“Is it as simple as you’re making it sound?” It might be that simple. He was magic and had an abundance of overlapping magic.

He shook his head. “Not at all. If it were as simple as loaning my magic to you, maybe.”

“Why make it harder than it needs to be? Or is the idea of you being without magic for a day too much?”

“My magic will kill you?” he provided with an easy shrug. “Witches crave magic and although it is against their laws—violations are met with swift and pitiless penalties—there’s always one Strata Three who wants to take it to another level.”

“You’re that next level.”

Oh, Prince, modesty doesn’t fit you, I thought at his downcast eyes and his failed attempt at humility.

“It’s been tried twice—and they both died. I didn’t kill them,” he added before I could ask or get the inquiring look off my face. “It will have to be witch magic.”

“I’m human. Will it work for me? Isn’t it usually witch to witch? A stronger witch taking magic from a lesser?”

He assured me with an unenthusiastic nod, but I needed much more than that.

“How do you know?”

His eyes dropped to the ring. “Because that would have killed you.”

“What?” I fumbled out.

He frowned. “Magic has only been shared by other magic holders. From my knowledge, it has never been tried with a non-magical. There was no precedent that showed you casting a spell would work. You were used as a test subject. If you’re able to power this magic, you’ll be able to survive witch magic. It’s closer to Caster magic than mine, it appears.”

My frustration was solely directed at the Dark Caster. Did they have some privileged knowledge that this would work? Was I simply a guinea pig to them, risking my life without any evidence it would have been successful? Things could have gone in an entirely different direction. I could have died that day. Tamping down the panic became so difficult, I focused on things in my control.

“How soon can we get me magic?” I needed this to end and the Dark Caster found. If the desire for anonymity allowed them to adhere to some semblance of rule, then let them have it and get me out of this world.

“I just need to make the arrangements. Later today, or early tomorrow. Witches dislike being without their magic. When you have it all your life, it’s as if a part of you is missing when divested of it. We will need to be efficient and strike true. I’ll have all the spells in order for it.”

Strike true? With so many possible combinations of spells, could we do that? The silence was stretched taut, his expression indiscernible. I wondered if we shared the same worry.

“I’d like you to stay another day,” he requested.

This time, I actually wanted the same. But it was Wine-Down, and I wanted to be there for Emoni and Cameron. It would also give Dominic more time to work through the spells.

“I have to work tomorrow—and it’ll give me an opportunity to travel home and back here alone.”

A sly look shadowed over his face. Had I messed up his redirection? “Of course, we want you to be able to do that,” he said.

Next time, try it with feeling.

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