Page 83 of Faerie Gift

I knew he still had the artifact, the one he’d been using to bolster his magic this semester. Which made it even more imperative for me to win. To prove to him he didn’t need an artifact. He was good enough on his own, and with a little more work, he could have the world on a string. If I could do it, then he could too.

And maybe I needed to prove it to myself as well. A half fae, half shifter who everyone said didn’t belong. Wouldn’t it be something to beat the full-blooded Crown Prince of Faerie himself?

We worked tirelessly, feeding the potion with new ingredients. Trying to keep up with the timeline of effects we knew would unfold with each new formula. Whispering words of power to achieve the desired result.

A little bit more and I would have it. I called my magic up from the depths and sent it toward the cauldron a little at a time, trying not to push too hard, too fast.

I was lucky it came down to me and Mike. Somehow, maybe because of all the terrible luck and messed up things the universe had thrown my way in life, I’dearnedhim as a friend. He was myfriend, and he had feelings for me. What else could I ask for? Whatever barriers came up between us, we worked to knock them back down, handling whatever fear or mistrust or anything else arose.

I glanced down at my cauldron, the potion cold and steam rising from the brew.

“Do you really think you can do better than me?” Mike was still taunting.

I stiffened my spine and held my shoulders a little straighter. “Hell yes I can.”

My answer didn’t bother him. If anything, I’d said the right thing.

The candles lighting the room dripped wax over the edge of the candelabras, and somewhere a teacher was counting down the minutes until the finish line. We must be doing something right if Professor Larch hadn’t pulled either of us yet. I kept adding ingredients, trying to remember the pages and pages of instructions along with this potion, letting my magic guide the way.

My memory. Not as bad as it used to be, although Melia had been wrong. I couldn’t make myself have a better memory with cognitive manipulation. It seemed the only person my magic didn’t work on was me.

“Only a few more minutes before they call the exam,” Mike said with a grin when I turned to glance at him. His cauldron had lacy frost decorating the sides and steam the color of a sunset. “I see you’re sweating hard trying to keep up with me. What’s the matter, Tavi? You a little tired? Working against the master getting to you?”

My hands clasped to my throat. “Your ego is choking me. How about you watch what you’re doing and leave the finessing to the professionals?”

He chuckled and grabbed a piece of moonstone, holding it over the boiling liquid.

Turning my back on him, I moved to the last six inches of the scroll and the final ingredients. If I could do better than him here, today, without having to resort to cheating…

It would be a major boost. Mentally and emotionally.

Mike chuckled again when I turned my back to him. “Trying to play it safe now, huh? You don’t want me to see what you’re doing?”

I shrugged. “Gratitude for you.Huh?” Let him stew.

Professor Larch hovered around us, keeping a constant watch on us with her eyes narrowed, murmuring under her breath. Knowing it would come down to the smallest details unless Mike messed up big time.

We finally reached the three hour mark, or so Larch called out, and I was tired. I was ready to stop. Then the gong tolled.

Mike and I held up our hands.

“And time, ladies and gentlemen,” she said. “Time for me to see how you’ve done. Our last two. You both did well enough I let you use the whole time. Be proud of that alone.”

I was too anxious to know the results to muster any kind of response for her.

She walked between us, tipping both of our cauldrons toward her for inspection. Keeping silent while she examined. Her lips pursed.

“Well,” she said after a time, clucking her tongue. “It seems we have a winner on our hands. Not unexpected, I might add. I’ve heard wonderful things about this student and their give ’em hell attitude this semester.”

Mike shifted to lean his elbow on the table, his blond hair the only spot of color when his face went pale. Like a stray sunbeam captured and given physical form. I felt like a worm next to him. Exhausted, sweaty, and definitely not in possession of exceptional Fae beauty. Whatever happened, I had my friend back.

I felt Persephone’s eyes drilling into me, as though telling me I’d better not be the winner, or else.

“Damn good execution. Excellent instincts when it comes to the missing ingredients. Textbook texture. A few wrong turns here and there, nothing to detract too badly from the final product.”

Larch brought over her own potion and poured a little bit into a beaker, making sure to keep her bare hand away from it. The liquid sloshed ponderously until it reached the edge of the glass.

She poured a bit from mine into a similar beaker. Then Mike’s, comparing the three of them side by side and beckoning us to lean closer. “Do you see what I see?” she asked.

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