Page 205 of A Winding Wave of Magic
“Ioannes.” Celine carved an assessing stare over me, then turned to Robbie and Jonathan. “You’re a soft-hearted fool, Rob Connolly. Why in the gods’ names would you take the open roads with something like this?”
Her accent sharpened the words somehow. Especially the last one.
I bristled. Something, indeed.
“Cassie doesn’t fly,” Robbie lied completely.
“Nonsense. We could have fetched her from Galway in a private plane. And if she doesn’t fly, just how did she cross the big blue ocean from America? Does she have a secret shape we don’t know about? A whale’s, perhaps?”
Again, that sharp gaze flickered over me, as if to assess the potential for largesse.
This time, I glared right back. “Maybe I didn’t want to. Maybe I had better things to do than ride off with a strange man who says I’m at the beck and call of a Council I’d never heard of before this year. Or maybe I wasn’t in a hurry to take a bunch of veiled insults from you.”
At that, the woman—Celine—blinked. Then, to my surprise, she tipped her head back and barked short, clipped laughter that bounced off the vaulted ceilings. “Well, at least she has a bit of spirit. She’ll need it if she will be mated to you.” When Jonathan’s mouth fell open, she waved it away. “Yes, yes, we all know. Fallon reported it immediately. You’re not the only one who can discover here, Jon.”
Robbie shook his head as if to say, “I told you.”
Then that appraising gaze was back on me. “By now every fae in the British Isles will know of her presence. An oracle with a watery aura.”
I recoiled. “How did you know that?”
Her eyes flashed at me in a familiar way, and finally, she spoke to me directly. “You’ll find that some of us have taken the time to refine our skills through intense study and discipline rather than wasting ten years at plain universities.” I opened my mouth again to argue, but she was already turning away. “I’ll let the members know you’ve arrived. You’ll wait here.”
It wasn’t, I noticed, a request.
As soon as the double doors swung shut behind her, I turned to Jonathan. “All right. You’re going to tell me everything about that woman, and you’re going to do it now. Who is she to you, and why was she looking at me like I’m gum on the bottom of her designer shoe?”
When Jonathan didn’t say anything, I held up a hand. We had limited time, and I wasn’t afraid to dig.
He sighed and grabbed it.Fine.But we’re going to take a walk. “Rob, I’m going to give Cassandra a tour of the gallery.”
Robbie snorted but waved us off. “Go on, then. I’ll just count my fingers over here.”
And?I prodded as Jonathan led me deeper into the hall toward an area where the walls were decorated with murals above entrances to various wings. As we approached, candles flickered to life in sconces beside each door along with the signs labeled what looked like languages.
Celine is the Speaker for the Assembly of the Fae, Jonathan thought as we walked.The larger body of elected fae that represents our interest everywhere. The Council operates separately, but Celine offers a ninth vote if a tie needs to be broken. She’s also the chief administrator for the Brigantian. A powerful witch, and on top of that has a sixth sense for reading people’s faces that once made me think she might be partly seer.
I said nothing, even after he stopped in front of the wing labeled Celtic.
I’m not trying to hide anything,he continued.We were classmates once and involved briefly many years ago. It ended, but occasionally our paths cross when I have to come here. She has made some indication that she would like to revisit that part of our history. I have not returned that inclination.
I knew it.Why didn’t you tell me before we got here?
He blinked. Confusion filtered through our confusion, along with a solid dose of fear.
Just say it, I ordered.
He drew a hand through his hair.I wasn’t sure what we were. Are. And if I’m being honest, I was afraid to bring it up.His thoughts were short, but anxious energy flowed through him. There was something about this place that made him nervous.
Visions of us—of me—flickered through his mind. The kisses we’d shared, yes, but other things too. The first moments we’d met. The terrifying pull he’d felt for me just from scenting meon my roommate, of all people. The fear that plagued him every time we spoke, even still the desire to be near me. To protect me. Consume me.
The savage in him was always lurking, just beneath his sophisticated surface.
It was too strong, and now I felt a bit scared. I turned to examine the entrance to the Celtic wing.
The double-doored entry (there didn’t seem to be any other type in this place) was darkened through glass panes, but to the side was a plaque that looked like a cross between a TV screen and a flagstone. I dropped Jonathan’s hand and went to investigate. The screen—if that’s what you could call it—flickered to life with a list of thirty or so surnames.
A glance toward the other visible wings leading off the gallery revealed similar setups, though I couldn’t read the titles over the doors.
