Prince of Air and Darkness (The Darkest Court)

I can make out my dad’s shape stepping off the back porch. He looks around before finding us and Mom raises a hand to him.

“How’s he handling it?” I ask, watching Dad make his way up the hill with long, easy strides. He’s steady and strong, but I can’t remember a moment of my life when he hasn’t been moving or working. The thought of him giving this place up and renting an apartment in town is impossible to imagine.

“He keeps busy. We both do.” Even after all the years of their marriage, my mom’s eyes light up at the sight of my dad.

He joins us and pats my back twice before wrapping an arm around Mom. If he’s confused to find us out here, he doesn’t act it. Instead, he buries his nose in Mom’s hair and mumbles, “What’s going on?”

She plays with one of the buttons on his flannel shirt. “We were talking about what’s coming. Better to face it now.”

“It’ll be fine, Phineas,” he says gruffly. “Even if we lose this place, we still have you.”

For now.

“We’re proud of you. I know things haven’t been easy and we sure as hell haven’t known how to help with all your...” he waves a hand in my general direction “...magick stuff, but you’ve worked hard and it’ll pay off for you soon.”

Or it could kill me first. My mother said it so perfectly. There’s never a right time for bad news.

The fine trembling in my hands spreads, quaking through my chest and stomach and down into my legs. If I don’t tell them now, will I get another chance? The next attack against me, planned or not, could push me past my limits.

“I needed to talk to you about that.” I wince the moment I say it, but it was so quiet, Dad doesn’t even hear. Mom does.

“Oh? What’s going on, honey?”

“What if my magick has a cost?”

Of course Dad hears that. He frowns. “What kind of cost are we talking about?”

Swallowing hurts. Looking over to see their worried expressions would hurt more. “A pretty high one,” I admit, voice only cracking a little.

“Have you discussed this with anyone at school? Can they do anything to stop it?”

“It doesn’t work like that, Dad. The ley line is part of me. Even if I’m not trying to use its power, I still sense it.”

“But you can stop using it?”

“I don’t know. No one knows. Everyone else who had this power died before they could tell anyone.”

“Died?”

Fuck. Dad’s jaw is clenched and his arm around Mom has tightened, probably to help her stay upright. She’s paler than I’ve seen and she clutches Dad’s shirt so hard it’s twisting at his collarbone.

I hold up my hands, cursing myself and wishing I could take it back. “It’s not that bad. I’ve already lived way past the life expectancy for a host, so clearly I’m doing something right. And I’m getting better at using it without any side effects, so—”

“How long?” The brittle fury in Mom’s voice stops my excuses. “How long have you known?”

“Sophomore year?” A light breeze ripples through th

e leaves of the tree and sends the fields fluttering. I watch the movement and swallow hard. Hopefully her anger isn’t directed at me. “I mean, I’d read about it freshman year but it didn’t really sink in for a while.”

Of all their reactions to the news, the sight of my mom walking away from us is the least expected. I start after her, but Dad grabs hold of my arm and shakes his head. “Let her go. This is...” He shudders, but doesn’t release me. “You’ve given us a lot to take in.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Halfway down the hill, she stops. Even this far away, I can see her shoulders heaving.

“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” It’s a broken question and the tears in his eyes mirror my own. “Phineas, you should have told us.”

“I didn’t know how to choose,” I admit. I dash away the tears threatening to spill over my lashes. “I don’t want to hurt you, but that means giving up my magick, which I’m not sure I can do. Not that it matters now. I’ve fucked this all up.”

He smacks the back of my head, but it’s too soft to do anything except grab my attention.