Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,55

“We weren’t strong enough to risk it.”

“The hell we weren’t!”

“Not safely. I couldn’t bear the thought of you—”

“You were weak, and now your attempt to protect me back then has left the current generation vulnerable.”

Arrogan’s voice was bitter as he replied, “I was human! We both were, in case you’ve forgotten what that’s like. I’m starting to think I’m lucky to be a piece of jewelry, rather than an emotionless monster like you’ve become.”

“I still have emotions; they’ve just been refined.”

“Down to anger, lust, and greed. It’s a miracle you’re able to keep your promise still.”

“As if I have a choice,” she answered. “It’s the foundation of what the fae are. I couldn’t break it if I wanted.”

“And do you?”

There was a long pause. “Do I wish I could break it?” she clarified hesitantly.

“Yes.”

The woman known to many as the goddess of magic sighed. “I’m not sure. It’s hard to remember who I was anymore. Not the details, but the feelings. You have no idea what it’s like. The absolute hunger of pure desires. Sometimes I just want to destroy everything, myself included, but not before I put an end to them…”

“Them being our enemies, or our students?”

“Both,” she admitted, and Will saw his grandmother’s body shiver.

“I appreciate your candor. You seemed like you were overdoing it earlier.”

She chuckled faintly. “You of all people should remember how I was as a teacher. I’m even worse now. I know what I must do to teach her, but at the same time, I really do want to rip her open. I’m sure it’s coloring my judgment.” She paused, then added, “You know I’m bound to truth. I wasn’t making idle threats earlier. If the boy doesn’t deliver, I’ll ruin everything he loves, starting with what’s closest to hand.”

“What about the promise?”

“I’ve had a long time to learn my limits. I can get around it without even straining myself.”

Arrogan’s voice sounded sad. “Has it come that that? Has the hatred consumed everything left? I still remember our love, even after centuries of living without you. It never left me.”

“Stop!”

Will couldn’t feel anything physical, but the ring of command in her voice seemed like it should have shaken the foundations of the building. When Aislinn spoke again, her words were sharp enough to cut glass. “Never speak of us again. All it does is rouse my rage and fill me with visions of torturing you. I’d rather not taint my memories.”

“Fine. What about the creature? You know he’s not capable of dealing with their kind yet,” said the ring.

Aislinn shrugged. “Let the king handle them. He seems brutally effective. If he was there hunting them that night, then he already knows of the problem. All William needs to do is recover my daughter.” She turned her head to glance at Selene but froze when her field of vision passed over the area that Will was watching from.

“You didn’t tell me he knew how to project already,” said Aislinn coldly.

“He doesn’t, but he did it a few times early on by accident. It’s part of why I had to train him in the beginning—”

Will wanted to hear the rest, but Aislinn pointed at the space where he floated and twisted her finger in an odd motion before pointing it at his collapsed form. With a rushing sensation, he flew down and blackness once again enveloped him. It only lasted a moment, however, for Aislinn’s magic ushered him into a deep sleep.

Chapter 12

Selene was staring down at him when he opened his eyes. Will felt a little confused, for unlike normal sleep, he had no memory of dreams or other sensations to give him the sense of time having passed. He had gone from Aislinn’s rebuke to sudden wakefulness as though reality had simply stuttered, pushing him forward in time.

Lifting his head, he looked around. His grandmother stood by the door, her hand on the knob. “You half hour begins now,” she stated before stepping out. Will sat up, and Selene’s arms closed around him