Page 65 of The Sacred and the Tormented

They were situated between two houses, out of the way of foot traffic, yet still close enough that everyone could see them in passing. Even so, he still felt too secluded.

“Conall told me you have Weaver blood in your veins.”

Talon shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You don’t believe Sive?”

“I find it hard to believe no one in my family knew.”

Róisín looked down at the water. “Perhaps they had their reasons for the secrecy.”

“Conall said it could go back a generation?”

“A few generations. Sometimes the magic fades away, but it can usually be awakened with the right prodding.”

“So, there’s a possibility that I just have a drop in my veins.”

“A drop is all it takes.” She looked up at him. “Weavers are not Fae. We do not discriminate between those who are full-blooded and those who are half-breeds. If you have an ancestor, then you are a Weaver, that simple.”

Talon glanced down at the bowl. “How do you plan to distinguish the power from my Fae magic?”

“I’ll sense it,” she assured. “It’s kind of like how Fae can scent feelings or lies. It’s not quite from your senses, it’s something deeper than that.” He raised a brow and Róisín waved her hand. “We have something called science on the northern continent. We study these kind of things.”

“You experiment on Fae?”

“Only those who are willing. They’re free to come and go. We don’t force anyone to do anything they don’t wish.”

Talon looked at the bowl again. “What do you want me to do exactly?”

“Manipulate the water.”

“I don’t need to learn a rune?”

Another smile. “Not yet. Maybe not at all.” He stared at her, waiting for an explanation. “We believe you already pull from the earth’s magic without knowing it. It’s why you were able to survive in the battles against your king.”

Talon tried not to react to the title. King. King of the Fae. Of the very land he walked on. And he’d fought against him for years.

Róisín tilted her head. “Does his position bother you?”

Talon clenched his jaw, hating that his face was revealing anything to this woman. He should have slept for an hour, just to keep his mind alert. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I’m sure. With your history—”

“Look,” he interrupted. “I appreciate your lot caring for Arianna but stop speaking to me as if you know everything about my past and our history.”

Light faded from her eyes. “Right. I apologize. I forget that you’ve all been through a lot lately.” She glanced around him and Talon followed her gaze. A pair of villagers passed with a child running ahead of them, twirling a fan in the breeze.

“The children have never known a life beyond these borders. You’re all special to us. You’re the main characters in stories we’ve been told our entire lives. You’ve given us hope where we saw none. We want freedom. We want to see the little ones roam the continent without falling prey to someone else’s twisted manipulations and we’ll do whatever it takes to get them there.”

He faced her again, noting the sheer determination her face. “They’re the ones who will ultimately guide our future. It’s our responsibility to erase the obstacles from our time so they don’t stumble when facing their own.”

Talon gave a subtle nod. Another moment passed, then the Róisín took a sudden breath and slapped her covered knees. “Right, shall we?”

Talon eyed the water again, then reached out and easily manipulated the liquid, pulling it up to float between them. Róisín studied the stream moving through the air as if it were alive.

“Freeze it.” He did, and her eyes lit up. “There, I felt it as soon as you shifted the liquid to another form.”

“Felt what?” He still wasn’t convinced.

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