He pushed down his uncertainty and ignored the memory of Karen’s words. That wasn’t a concern right now. They had to get Charity out of danger.
He pumped out his power, mixing it with the incredibly potent fae magic around him, and pushed it through the link with Charity.
“We are ready, First,” said a rosy-cheeked woman in a white robe. She cradled a plain wooden bowl in her hands.
“Close the door,” said the woman who stood at Charity’s head. Her grandmother, it had to be. She had auburn hair streaked gray at the temples, wise, knowledgeable eyes, and a few creases around her eyes and mouth. She looked like she was in her forties—like she could be Charity’s mom. Clearly these people didn’t age like humans. Or maybe it was the land that acted as a fountain of youth.
The assassin posing as the Second’s assistant turned ever so slightly. He’d already been blocking the door, but he did so with a slightly more assertive stance. Clearly, he was the door.
“Second.” The rosy-cheeked woman handed the bowl to Charity’s father, who hadn’t had a chance to introduce himself. He took it with steady hands, as though nothing whatsoever troubled him. These people were excellent at masking their feelings. In fact, it seemed to be expected.
“Now,” said the rosy-cheeked healer as she took her place at Charity’s feet. “Given the seeps and surges of her magic, it’s nearing its peak. It is trying to flower into its true potential. This draught will help that.” Her eyes flicked to Devon.
Ah, so this explanation was meant for him.
He minimally shifted to show that he was taking it in.
“She will awaken, and then we will get the first true example of her power,” the healer went on.
“Second,” the assistant at the door said, his posture regal and firm.
“Yes, Halvor,” Charity’s dad said, the quirk of his eyebrows indicating he was annoyed by the interruption.
“Hallen has grave warnings about letting Miss Charity’s magic flower without the proper protections.”
“Bring him,” the First said, not looking back.
Hallen, his arrogance dimmed and his white-blond hair released from its hold at the back of his neck, appeared at Halvor’s side. His face was hard and grave, an expression belied by the excitement in his eyes. He was clearly delighted to be getting an audience with royalty.
“Hallen led the seeking party and recovered this young woman who bears a striking resemblance to our family line,” Charity’s father said, his tone expressionless.
“That remains to be seen,” the First said, not turning her attention to Hallen.
“What are your grave warnings?” Charity’s dad asked Hallen.
Hallen explained what he’d seen Charity do in the battle with the demons. Specifically, he spoke of her explosive magic. He seemed impressed, although Devon knew she was capable of much, much more. She’d been worn out, working on the dregs of dregs.
“That wasn’t all done by Charity,” Devon corrected when Hallen was through, adopting the same tone. “One of the mages mimicked Charity’s magic to attack the demons. The mage is unique in that way. But Charity can do everything he said, and additionally, she can create magical sunlight strong enough to burn an elder vampire’s skin, she can form a ball of…electricity, I think it is, and propel it a few yards, and she can explode air from a spark, as Hallen saw, but with much more ferocity. She has very little control over her magic yet, but she’s learning quickly.”
The First and Second—actually, everyone in the room—stared at him with expressions barely masking their incredulity. Well, except for Hallen, who clearly wanted to kill Devon where he stood. Devon suspected they wouldn’t become friends.
“And…how do you know all of this?” the First asked.
“I’ve witnessed it on multiple occasions, usually when we were fighting for our lives. She’s only known she’s magical for half a year or so—this is all new to her. Her magic is pretty incredible.”
The First took Devon’s measure, and even though Devon had tried to keep his tone neutral, he got the distinct impression she’d picked up on his affection for Charity. Given her suddenly frosty demeanor, two things were suddenly clear: she did intend to welcome Charity into their family fold, but she didn’t want any attachment to undesirable outsiders getting in the way.
Something hot and uncomfortable lodged in Devon’s middle. He pushed it away. Now wasn’t the time.
“Yes, I see.” The First looked down at Charity, and the room fell silent.
Andy’s voice rose over the din. “What are they doing in there, surgery? Why the hell is this taking so long?”
The First looked around the room. “Alvine, do you surmise we have enough power gathered to gently guide her magic on the right path and counteract any…powerful manifestations of the magic she might have inherited?”
Alvine, the healer at Charity’s feet, looked at the ceiling. “We have enough power, but if we don’t move her outside, we won’t have much of a shed left. If she has as much magic as the Alpha Shifter says she does, we’ll need to direct any powerful discharge somewhere, and that will be straight up.”