Page 42 of Rogue's Possession (Covenant of Thorns 2)

I did feel clever. My mind, Rogue’s thoughts, it all seemed defined and clear. I felt smarter than I had in years, as if my brain were twenty years old again, full of fresh neurons and infinite capacity.

“That’s the crystal—it intensifies and clarifies thought.”

So cool.

“Create something.”

“Anything?”

“Something you like. You’ll have it for a long time.”

Excitement thrilled through me. He was showing me how to make a permanent spell! What should I make? Damn, the performance pressure was killing me. I knew there had to be things I really wanted to keep around, but I couldn’t think of any of them right that second.

“Something. Anything.”He mentally yawned.“You will have other opportunities.”

Right, right, right. Umm. Okay.I took a piece of my sweatshirt and wished it into a little gold horseshoe. Why? I didn’t know. Thinking about cowboys and ol’ Wyoming, I supposed. It lay next to us on the smooth glass floor, shining in my mind.

“Now hold it in your head. The shape, the feel. How it’s infused with your magic.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now feel how the crystal is echoing your magic—how it’s bouncing back to you, only more clear, more sharp, more lasting?”

“I do!”I wanted to gush about it, but he mentally winced so I hauled it back. Quiet.

“Better. Layer that in. Just add…more.”

He kind of shrugged but I followed his meaning. I poured more in, layering the magic into the little horseshoe, like electroplating tungsten probes for neurophysiological experiments. Feeling full of power as endless as the echoing crystal layers, I crammed more into the gold, making it dense and full.

“Stopstopstop!”But Rogue was laughing.

In chagrin I pulled back. The poor little horseshoe shone with a beacon of magic. Like a cockroach, it would likely outlast a nuclear blast now.

“That’s the first thing. Follow my mind for the second.”

He wrapped himself around me and I rode with him. We rose up, toward the cavernous crystal ceiling and into it. I looked down to see our bodies, hands clasped, far below and felt a pang of fear.

“No. You are safe. I will take care of you, sweet Gwynn. Never fear. And never look back.”

Lots of old stories about that kind of thing—Lot’s wife, Orpheus, the guy in the movie who justhadto look down while crossing the dissolving rope bridge over the chasm while cannibals raged at his heels.

Always good to pay attention to the cautionary tales.

Disembodied, we flew over to the camp, looking for all the world now as if it had been there for weeks instead of hours. Smoke billowed from damp wood, but the fires sparked merrily and my entourage all seemed to be happily eating and dancing—the former for the soldiers’ side and the latter for the fae side.

“Pick someone.”

“For what?”

“One of your experiments.”

That gave me pause. “You don’t just experiment on living beings, especially sentient ones. Even a lab animal I wouldn’t sacrifice without a strong purpose and a clear experimental design.”

His exasperation washed over me, tinged with impatience. I refused to apologize. I might be slowly losing my humanity, becoming some cat monster, but I wouldn’t willingly throw all ethics to the wind. Particularly ones ground into me by NIH.

“Pick someone or I will.”His mental voice was metallic. Tasted like it too. “You must learn that this is a different place. Your cultural ethics don’t apply. The lower orders of fae are numerous because they are mortal and expendable. Easily replaced.”

“How can life mean so little to you people?”

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