Page 64 of Radiant Shadows

Falling into a chant, the Le Fey witches repeated the spell, retracing their mixed gore on my palm over and over.

A warm sensation bloomed on my skin there, which could have been the blood, but when the heat sunk down into the bones of my hand, I knew it was more than that. Taking stock of my own fire, I realized it was low on reserve, dormant inside and nowhere near my hands.

The warmth spread down my arm and through my bloodstream, taking the same route my fire traveled, but it was a different sort of heat. Not exactly the same physical heat I was accustomed to, but more of an ethereal or spirituallightcoursing through me.

Once it reached my heart, it spread everywhere like an explosion. Down my legs, across my shoulders, up the back of my neck, making my scalp tingle. I even saw red and purple flashes dance in front of my eyes, which continued even when I shut them. The feeling raced around, seemingly erratic and almost frantic. It was a little overwhelming, so I kept my eyes closed.

Then suddenly, the sensation vanished.

When I opened my eyes, Shea and her family continued to whisper the words of the spell, their eyes shut in meditation. I involuntarily twitched my hand, and Shea opened her eyes and ended the chant.

I lifted my hand from theirs. The blood they had smeared was gone, vanished as surely as the strange warm light.

Shea raced from the room, a hand over her mouth.

I looked to Marjorie. “Is she alright?”

“Just give her a minute,” she answered.

My eyes glued to my hand while we waited. I looked for any trace of the blood or any difference. Would I be able to see if the curse had really been lifted?

“So?” Shea asked when she returned. “Do you feel like a real boy yet?”

I lifted my gaze from my unmarked palm to her. “I don’t—”

“Shea,” Marjorie chided with a side glance to her. “And I doubt his ancestor felt much after the curse was placed on him or her. It wasn’t until they fell in love that they truly knew. Unless they weren’t aware a curse was placed on them.”

“Claudette,” I said. “Her name was Claudette Dracul. And she knew. Maybe not right away, but every Dracul knows.”

“So go find out if it worked,” Marjorie said in a sagely tone.

Just the thought made me a little sick.

“Let yourself fall in love with our sweet Arya,” she continued. “Then you’ll know.”

I looked to Shea as if she’d know how to respond, but she merely shrugged and gave me a half-smile.

I thanked Marjorie and Janette, and then Shea walked me to the door.

“Well, that was crazy. But nothing strange is falling off, so it must’ve worked.”

I understood she was trying to inject some levity, but her words alone didn’t inspire confidence.

“I hope so,” I said, then lowered my head in a half-nod. “Thank you. Truly.”

Shea waved a hand. “Whatever.” She opened the front door, letting in the cold air. “But just so you know, if you break her, I’ll break you.”

I went a little cross-eyed looking at the newly bandaged finger pointed straight at my nose.

“And you know I can,” she said with a smirk.

A deep sense of humility settled over me, something I wasn’t used to experiencing. Shea really cared about Arya, and she had helped me despite her dislike for me, despite the way I’d treated her. Clearly, not all witches were bad, the same way not all mers were intolerable elitists, and I was somehow lucky enough to be acquainted with the exceptions.

I offered Shea a sincere smile. “I will spend every day of my life striving to treat her the way she deserves to be treated.”

“Good,” she said with a firm nod.

“And Shea, I’m sorry for my previous animosity toward you,” I said. “Old prejudices are hard to see through sometimes.”

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