Page 43 of The Gargoyle's Glade
Ophelia laughed. “Because I don’t owe anyone an explanation for anything I do.” And what could even be said about that really? Coltor’s mouth slammed shut, his jaw clenched. She glanced between us. “Have you figured it out then?” Ophelia asked, the question aimed at Coltor specifically, a lopsided smile on her mouth.
“I have.” He sighed. “Well, the mate part. My gift is still mostly a mystery to me.”
She laughed, reaching up to pat his cheek. “That will come, nephew. In due time.” Ophelia turned to me. “And your recovery?”
“As good as can be expected,” I said with a shrug, glad she hadn’t asked me about the mate bond. I’d heard every word that night, but we hadn’t had a chance to speak of it any further. “Tea?”
She nodded, allowing Coltor to take her by the hand as she climbed my porch steps. “Indeed.” I hoped Coltor had some whiskey at his hut he could run to get for her, otherwise she’d be very disappointed in my brew.
Coltor’s wide eyes met mine as he led her through the door. Without a word being shared, I understood his expression.
The sorceress had left her heavily warded home for the first time in memory. My horse, a descendant of a mythical being, whom I could now hear speaking to me in my head, had used a portal to bring her here. I was the first Keeper in an age. What fresh hell were we in for next?
By the timeColtor returned with a bottle of whiskey from his stash, I had brewed three pots of tea, and the cabin was close to bursting it was so full.
Hailon and Seir had arrived as quickly as they could after seeing Jacks trotting through the glade. Seir had propped a small mirror up on the low sofa table, and inside the glass were the residents of d’Arcan minus Magnus, who had shown up shortly after Hailon and Seir. Coltor’s sisters, Imogen and Lovette, had knocked on my door not long after him. All we were missing was Tap. There was truly no space at all for more company should any arrive—we’d be serving tea out of bowls and off plates to guests seated on my bed if they did.
Everyone had insisted I sit, so Ophelia, Hailon, and I were cozied up on the little sofa with Magnus and Coltor standing at our backs. Seir was sitting on the floor so he could see into the mirror, and Imogen and Lovette were at my little dining table.
“Your bracelet,” Rylan said through the glass, “acted as a protective charm. The stone itself?—”
“What kind of stone?” Imogen asked, leaning so she could see the mirror.
“Red jasper,” I supplied. She nodded as though this in itself was an explanation, then settled back into her seat. Imogen and I had shared only a brief greeting, but she seemed very kind. She strongly resembled both Coltor and Magnus.
“Yes, that stone has protective properties, but there was also magic woven in. The hair in the band.” He tilted his head. “Where did it come from?”
“Everyone,” I said, my voice improved by the tea, which Ophelia had splashed with whiskey for me after Coltor handed over the bottle to her and turned his back. “I don’t know exactly how far back, but there were strands from most of my father’s family line, his included, and mine. There’s even some from Jacks. The bracelet always passed to the eldest child.”
He nodded in understanding. “The inclusion of each owner’s hair likely provided its own kind of magic, but I’m guessing part of the inheritance tradition included a blessing. Even with somedistance from the original witch in the line, or perhaps with new additions along the way, that many contributors layering a spell made it quite powerful.”
As I processed that, Ophelia perked up beside me. “Powerful enough to make it so she can’t feel my wards?”
Rylan nodded thoughtfully. “Hard to say without knowing exactly what incantation was used, but it’s possible.” Ophelia grumbled.
“Is that why I could read the book after I lost it? Why I heard all the animals so loudly? They truly didn’t mean to hurt me.” I was likely repeating myself on that point, but it felt necessary. “It was just that everything was magnified and I couldn’t tolerate it.”
“Yes, that’s likely. Removing that protective charm, and whatever spells were embedded in it, allowed you to feel the full force of your gift. The muffled, slow trickle became a flood.”
Ophelia frowned. “All this trouble because nobody could read the blasted book?” When that was confirmed, she huffed irritably, then turned to me all sugar sweet and patted my hand. “Apologies, Merry. I didn’t know only conduits could read it.”
“It’s not your fault.” I was reminded of her comment from that day in her hut, that my magic would need training and support. I’d done nothing to train, and the bracelet blocking much out was not as helpful as actual support.
“Any idea what changed that allowed Merry to awaken?” Vassago asked.
“She was certainly fighting on her own already, but I took her to the heart,” Coltor said quietly.
“The heart?” Rylan queried.
“Castle Emankor,” I supplied, realizing that the warm wash of bubbly tingles I’d felt while held in his arms under the stars that night had been from more than his confessions and affection.
“The magic there is quite potent. I didn’t know whether or not it would do anything to help, but I had to try.”
Ophelia startled everyone by clapping her hands together loudly. “Well done, lad.”
“Perhaps regular visits are a good idea?” Rylan suggested.
“Yes, yes. That would certainly be good to help you recover after using your ability, Merry. Especially until you learn to manage it.” Ophelia nodded enthusiastically, barely avoiding spilling some of her freshly-poured tea.
