Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception #2) - K.M. Shea Page 0,41
Lord Linus told me. “He’s dead.”
This guy. I refuse to believe that I inherited any significant portion of his DNA!
“I don’t care about him—personally I think he was a creep. But everyone in the Court is fanatical about him,” I said.
“They aren’t going to know! Besides—there’s a point to it. Even though it doesn’t resonate with you, you should be able to feel the huge difference in how much the staff can channel compared to your chintzy, broken prism.”
“My prism isn’t broken—it’s well loved.”
“Yeah, I bet. Just touch the staff.”
I stubbornly folded my arms across my chest.
“It will help you see how the issue isn’t you or magic itself, but the tool you’re using.” He held out my prism and waved it for emphasis.
If it helps…I need to be able to defend myself and support the barrier when the Night Realm shrinks again.
I wavered for a moment, then gave in. “Fine. But if I don’t feel anything different, obviously the problem is—”
I set my fingers on the staff, and my brain exploded.
Chapter Ten
Leila
Not literally, but it certainly felt like it. Magic rattled around in my skull. It felt like it was pouring out of my eyes and fingers as it surged through me. But it wasn’t just magic, it was…everything.
I couldn’t describe it, it just felt like I was drowning in my own mind.
I yanked my hand back, fell to my knees, and gasped for air.
“Leila?” Lord Linus crouched next to me, his voice tight. “What happened—are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I wheezed. “It’s just—that was.” I shook my head. “I should have known that creep of a first king wielded a seriously strong artifact. That rush was something.”
Lord Linus frowned. “Rush? You should have just felt its capabilities—the staff is empty of magic.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I experienced. Its power slammed into me.”
Lord Linus passed me my prism. “Perhaps we ought to save artifact picking for another day—when the Paragon can help. It sounds like your human blood might be mucking up the artifacts.”
“Is that a common problem with half fae?” I asked. “I don’t remember the teachers mentioning anything at the after school program I belonged to in the Curia Cloisters.”
As part of their mission of good will, the Curia Cloisters held classes for all the half supernaturals or supernaturals that were abandoned as kids to teach them about their abilities.
I hadn’t had any problems with magic then, either.
Ahhh, those were simpler times.
“Let’s head back to the mansion.” Lord Linus stood, then offered me his free hand. “Unless you wanted to practice more potions?”
I let him pull me up. “I had one left to bespell to finish the batch.”
“Then we’re good to go?”
I scowled at him. “No! I want to finish that last potion—then we can leave.”
Lord Linus groaned, turned around, and headed back in the direction we’d come from. “Sometimes I worry you inherited too much of your mother’s sense of responsibility.”
I glared at Lord Linus’ back and considered kicking a rock at him.
It’s not worth it—he’ll just squeal and then say I’m going through a rebellious phase.
I sighed and hurried after him before he could disappear through the doorway with his orb of light.
Just one more thing to add to my to-do list, I guess.
The end of September arrived faster than I thought possible, and with that came the first official day of fall.
In my pre-queen days, this wouldn’t have meant anything to me—except that I could finally drink my pumpkin lattes and no one would harass me. But now, as the Queen of the Night Court, it meant it was time for an occasion I was fast learning to dread: a ceremony.
“This is stupid.” I leaned my head back against the “throne” prepared for me and batted a dried corn leaf out of my face. “I don’t see any point in it whatsoever.”
“It’s tradition,” Skye said. “Every year the fae monarchs mark the changes of the seasons, and hold a ceremony with each transition.”
“What for? It’s not like fall isn’t going to come if King Birch over there doesn’t give King Fell a pumpkin.”
I pointed to the Summer King, who was standing at one end of a crimson carpet that had been unrolled over a quaint field. Food—pumpkins, sweet corn, gourds, cucumbers, and onions—was mounded up in a pile behind King Birch, but he held in his arms a few heads of wheat, some green vine-y plants, and some colored leaves arranged in a rustic bouquet.