supposed to talk about. It was Rhys who said, "That would be true."
"Sorry, but if that's true, then why couldn't this be a sidhe with less control of his, or her, magic? Maybe it's the best the wizard could do?"
Barinthus shook his head. "No."
"Her logic is sound," Doyle said.
"You see the symbols; you know what they are for, Darkness. We are forbidden such magic, and have been for centuries."
"These symbols are old enough that I'm not familiar with all of them," I said.
"The wand is designed to harvest magic," Rhys said.
I frowned at him. "You mean to make your own magic grow more powerful?"
"Nope."
I frowned harder.
"It's designed to steal other people's power," Doyle said.
"But you can't do that," I said. "Not that we're not allowed to do it, but it's not possible to steal someone's personal magic. It's intrinsic to them, like their intelligence, or their personality."
"Yes and no," he said.
I was beginning to be tired, really tired. I hadn't had any real pregnancy symptoms, but suddenly I was tired, achingly so. "Can I have a chair?" I asked.
Wilson said, "I'm sorry, Merry, I mean, of course." He went and got a chair.
"You look pale," Carmichael said. She started to touch my face like you'd check a child for fever, then stopped herself in mid-motion.
Rhys did it for her. "You feel cool and clammy. That can't be good."
"I'm just tired."
"We need to get Merry home," Rhys said.
Frost knelt by me, with me sitting he was about eye level with me. He put his hand against my face. "Explain to them, Doyle, and then we can get her home."
"This wand is designed to take magic from others. Merry is right, the magic cannot be stolen permanently from someone, but the wand is like a battery. It absorbs magic from different people and gives the wand's owner more power, but she would have to feed the wand new power almost constantly. The spell is clever, and harkens back to the older days of our own magic, but it has the marks of something other than sidhe. Our magic, but not."
"I know what it reminds me of," Rhys said. "Humans. Humans who were my followers, but who could do some of our magic. They were good, but it never translated exactly."
"The marks aren't carved on the wood, or painted," Carmichael said.
"If it was sidhe magic, then we could trace the symbols on the wood with our finger and our will, but for most humans they needed something more real. Like the fact that our followers saw the marks of power on us and thought they were tattoos, so they painted themselves with woad for protection in battle."
"But that didn't work," Carmichael said.
"It worked when we had power," Rhys said, "and then when we lost enough power it was worse than useless to the people whom we were supposed to protect." Rhys looked so unhappy. I had heard both him and Doyle tell stories of what had happened to their followers when they had lost so much power they could no longer protect them with magic.
"Is there a human who could trace those symbols?" I asked. Sitting down had helped.
"With nothing but will and word, I doubt it."
"What else could he or she have used?" Carmichael asked.
"Body fluid," Jeremy said.
We all looked at him. "Remember, I learned wizardry back when the sidhe were still in power. When the rest of us could find a piece of your enchantments, we copied it using body fluid."
"There's nothing visible on the wood. Most body fluids would leave something visible behind," Carmichael said.
"Saliva wouldn't," Wilson said.
"Spit works," Jeremy said. "People always talk about blood or semen, but spit is good, and it's just as much a part of a person."
"We haven't swabbed the wood directly because we weren't sure how the spells would react to it," Wilson said.
"Whoever made it has left you DNA," I said. I was feeling much better. I stood up, and threw up all over the forensic lab floor.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Once I threw up I was fine. I was apologetic about throwing up in the lab, but luckily the floor wasn't actual evidence. Carmichael gave me a breath mint and we left. Rhys drove us home, and made arrangements to pick up the other car tomorrow. I was the only other person who could drive, and none of the men seemed to want me to do that. I guess I couldn't blame them.
I leaned back in the passenger seat and said, "I thought I was