Page 24 of An Archer's Reckoning

Ayden’s eyes hardened.

“I . . . Ayden . . . Shit, how do I even tell you all of this?”

“Just say it.”

I blew out a breath.

“I’m not just Gifted. I’m the Son of Magic, though some called me the Heir of Magic. They are two titles that mean pretty much the same thing.”

His brows furrowed.

“I’m still figuring it all out, but . . . You know how I was sent to find magical aid?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I guess, it’s strange and all, but . . . I’m kind of . . .”

“Heisthe magical aid,” Órla snapped as she strode back across the table to stand before Ayden. “Declan is a direct descendant in a long magical line that is called upon when magic itself faces dire threats. He went seeking aid, and he found himself, histrueself.”

Ayden blinked.

“You’re Gifted?”

I started to answer, but Órla cut me off.

“No, Ayden, this is far greater than any Gift. Declan doesn’t possess magic; heismagic.”

Ayden spat a laugh.

“Declan? You’re talking about Declan Rea?” He pointed at me. “The one who hated golden collars so much he ran away and joined the Rangers? You’re saying what? He’s got two or three abilities? And a fancy shirt?”

He shoved his chair back from the table and stepped away, turning to face the rough wall of the cave.

“Ayden, please,” I pleaded.

Spirits, he was going to hate me after this. I felt like a piece of me was dying.

But there was only one direction now—forward.

The air in the cave shimmered, and my tunic flared to life. Golden brilliance blazed from the Phoenix on my chest so brightly I had to shield my eyes.

Órla flapped from the table to rest on the floor before Ayden. Her commanding voice echoed through the cavern like the tones of a palace gong.

“Ayden Byrne, youwilllisten.”

I couldn’t see his face, but Ayden’s posture stiffened as he stared down at Órla. Her body, normally small enough to stand in my palm, grew until her head reached his shoulders. The golden plumes of her chest glowed with the same brilliance as my tunic. Even I was stunned to silence at her display.

“I, Daughter of Magic, stand before you as witness to his purpose. Declan Rea is my Bond-Mate and the Heir of Magic. Survival of your people rests on his shoulders. Do not be so foolish as to turn aside because of your own wounded pride.”

Ayden staggered back.

But Órla wasn’t finished. She continued growing until she towered over him. “Hear me, Ayden Byrne. Declan carries a burden greater than any alive. He will need you before his days are done. If you bear any love for this land, do not fail him.”

Watching Órla shrink back to her normal size was almost as terrifying as watching her swell to human height.

“What in the Spirits? Why didn’t you tell me you could blow up like that?”

“A lady has to have her secrets.”Órla giggled in my mind, shifting from an awe-inspiring Spirit into a little girl in the blink of an eye.“Besides, I didn’t really grow. That was Illusion.”

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