Page 210 of A Winding Wave of Magic
“But why didn’t she bequeath her estate and her position to her own child?” asked a woman whose accent was from somewhere in Africa. I guessed she was a shifter by the way she kept sniffing in my direction. Maybe some kind of cat like Jonathan. A lion by the color of her striking amber eyes.
“My mother didn’t manifest,” I said. “She had me at seventeen instead and left me to be raised by Penny.”
If they noted that I shouldn’t actually understand the terms of immortality at my age, they didn’t say anything about it.
“But you are also not manifested,” the woman remarked.
I shook my head. “Not yet. I turn twenty-nine in a few days.”
“Cassandra wasn’t planning to request the seat on the Council for another four years,” Robbie put in. “Mage O’Brien’s will instructed her to train with my wife in Ireland so that she could be adequately prepared for her position.”
If they had more questions about Sybil, they didn’t ask any. Instead, all six pairs of eyes trained back on me.
“Your wife is a telepath, is she not, Robbie?” asked a man with a very thick South Asian whose tingling gaze told me he was a seer.
“Caitlin is,” Robbie agreed. “A talented one.”
“Which is very good,” replied the man. “But why wouldn’t she also call in the help of other advanced seers for someone training for the Council exam? There is a very advanced prophet in London, and China has the best bard of a generation other than myself.”
He seemed to be searching me while he talked, by the waysomethingcontinued to press in the back of my mind like he waslooking for a trap door. A place where only my deepest memories lay.
Jonathan snarled. The pressure disappeared. “I’ll thank you to stay out of my mate’s past without her permission, Senni.”
“That term,” said a siren with an Australian accent as he held up his hand again. “Mate.”
He fluttered his fingers, and it was as if someone was stroking something inside me. He was touching my power. It felt absurdly intimate.
He dropped his hand and had the grace to look apologetic. “I’m sorry. It can be quite familiar, the stroke. But Jonathan, calling her your mate is not quite correct. You are mating, it is true. The bond is there, but it is still growing.”
“I can scent it too,” added the African shifter. “She has not fully consented yet—I can feel that just as strongly as your desire for her.”
“Be that as it may, Mage Mbotu,” Jonathan spoke through his teeth, studiously avoiding my faze. “While she’s a powerful seer, she’s not experienced in the art of shielding. When we are together, I can do so on her behalf.”
The seer named Senni looked genuinely baffled. “She cannot perform a basic shield? I wasn’t even inside her past. Just knocking on the door.”
I tried not to feel completely and utterly inadequate. Gods, I was already screwing up, and we hadn’t even talked to these people for five minutes.
“There is also the problem of your age,” said the chancellor. “Council positions are only available to fully manifested fae. Twenty-nine is too young to be on the Council, and your grandmother knew it. Why she wanted this to be or kept it from us is a mystery we must solve.”
“Not to mention insult,” said the other siren with a very thick Eastern European accent. “Like bringing juice instead of wine to a party.”
“I wouldn’t be here in the first place, asking to bend the rules, if my grandmother hadn’t died,” I put in, already tired of being treated like I was worthless. “If she hadn’t been murdered by one of the members of this very Council.”
The Council immediately broke into arguments, some calling for more details, others asking for an examination of my memories.
Chancellor Se hushed the members, then leaned across the table to me. “This is a very serious allegation. What proof do you have?”
I bit my lip. I couldn’t share the proof we’d gleaned from Sybil—not without betraying her location, and I wasn’t sure yet whether these were people I could trust. Especially the seer with an odd gleam in his eye. Jonathan’s thoughts also urged me to keep a few other things to myself—namely, his shifting abilities.
Everything else that had happened to me, I could share.
“The moment I arrived at my grandmother’s home, there were still lingering memories of her murder,” I said. “I picked them up immediately. Just before I left the coast, I was also attacked by the same person—a shadowed sorcerer who could change into a raven. With the help of my mate, I was able to fight him off. It wasn’t until Jonathan identified his father that I knew who it was. All of these are memories I can share.”
More talk began, though it was quickly shut down as Robbie stepped forward. “Council. We apologize for keeping the girl from you, but under the circumstances, I think we can all give Cassandra a bit of grace. She came to us in Ireland less than two months ago. We’ve been getting to know her and had yet to establish a plan of action. Given a bit more time, we’d have certainly come to the Council for guidance in the matter.”
I didn’t need Jonathan’s touch to know that Robbie was lying. He knew, as did Jonathan, that Penny had wanted me in Ireland. And had wanted me to stay a secret for four more years if at all possible.
The Council, however, didn’t seem convinced. More than one of them was scowling now, and both shifters were sniffing again like they could smell the lies.
