Page 46 of Kingdom of Locks

“Begone, crone,” said Cyfrin carelessly. He turned his gaze to Aurelia. “Honeysuckle doesn’t mind, do you, child?”

Aurelia’s skin crawled uncomfortably under the hand that was still sprawled across her stomach, but she met his gaze steadily.

“As a matter of fact, I do mind not knowing what you’re doing. Why is tonight different?”

To her surprise, Cyfrin neither showed anger, nor dismissed her question out of hand. He lowered his arm, considering her thoughtfully. “Do you want to understand my process, Honeysuckle?”

“I do,” she said, surprised but more than ready to take the offered opening.

“She doesn’t want to hear anythingyouhave to say, Cyfrin,” Mama Gail interjected hotly.

Aurelia turned to her mother, frustrated. “Actually,” she said, widening her eyes meaningfully, “I do.”

An edge of desperation entered Mama Gail’s eyes, and Aurelia’s frustration grew. Why couldn’t the other woman see how good an opportunity this was? If Cyfrin was in the mood to talk, they might be able to find out what this key was going to be.

“It seems you’re not needed here, Abigail,” said Cyfrin, sounding infuriatingly delighted at their conflict. “Why don’t you step into the next room again?”

“Absolutely not,” gasped Mama Gail. “And you can’t lock me in this time, so don’t think you’re going to—”

“Honeysuckle,” Cyfrin interrupted her, sounding bored, “where’s that key I gave you?”

Aurelia hesitated for a moment, her eyes passing to her mother. Mama Gail’s fear and anger were written all over her face, and Aurelia could tell the other woman wasn’t able to consider the situation clearly. The thought of Amell’s visit decided it for Aurelia. He was coming back tomorrow, and at the very least, she needed to be able to tell him more about Cyfrin’s plans than the embarrassingly small amount of information she’d been able to impart that day. And clearly Mama Gail wasn’t going to help her find out more. Meaning Cyfrin was her only option.

Sending her mother a silent apology, Aurelia stepped over to the kitchen and retrieved the key. Making as little contact as physically possible, she slipped it into Cyfrin’s outstretched hand. His self-satisfied smirk made her want to snatch it back, but she forced herself to wait, motionless, as he turned to Mama Gail.

“Well then,” he said pleasantly. “Time to step out for a minute.” With a sudden gesture, and a few muttered words, he seized Mama Gail’s arm. Aurelia could tell that his grip was stronger than was natural as he pushed the older woman into the bedroom and once again locked her in. This time, Mama Gail didn’t yell or pound the door, but the betrayal Aurelia had seen in her eyes was worse than any shout.

Cyfrin turned back to Aurelia, who swallowed nervously. Hopefully this wasn’t a terrible mistake.

But the enchanter showed no more sign of violence than he had the night before. Strolling back toward her, he gave her a smile that made her want to wince. She remembered fleetingly how Amell’s grin had seemed to laugh at himself rather than her. Well, when Cyfrin smiled at her, it couldn’t have been plainer that it was himself he was pleased with, not the person standing before him.

“Thank you for your assistance, Honeysuckle,” he said smugly. “I’m glad we’re beginning to understand one another.” His eyes searched her face, that unpleasant smile growing. “With me, you have the opportunity to be part of something magnificent, you know.”

“Part of what?” she blurted out. “What’s all the magic for?”

She barely hid her wince as Cyfrin raised an eyebrow. She knew she’d been too obvious. But as wonderful a mother as Mama Gail was, subtlety was one thing she’d never taught Aurelia.

“I’m glad to see you taking an interest, child, but I don’t think you’re ready for that level of insight yet.”

The words were maddeningly reminiscent of Mama Gail’s attitude, and Aurelia found herself scowling before she could help it. “If I’m the one storing all the magic,” she argued, “don’t you think I should at least know its basic function?”

Up went that thin eyebrow again, but this time Cyfrin laughed. “Perhaps you’re right,” he conceded. “I suppose there’s no harm in you knowing my intentions in broad terms. Its purpose, my dear, is to overwhelm and overpower all other enchanters. To show them that I am and always have been greater than their narrow minds could imagine.”

His voice had become darker and harder as he spoke, and Aurelia found herself drawing back involuntarily. But Cyfrin didn’t seem to notice, his eyes unfocused as he looked at some imagined future where he emerged victorious over all his critics.

Selfish pride, Aurelia reflected. That was all the motivation he’d ever shown, and it was no surprise that his plans for the excessive amount of magic he’d stored were in the same vein.

“And to that end,” Cyfrin said, his voice once again mild as he stepped up to her, “let’s try again.”

It was all Aurelia could do not to squirm as Cyfrin laid one hand back on her midriff, the other reaching for her hair. As he muttered, a strange sensation moved slowly over Aurelia’s scalp, as if her hair was growing marginally lighter. She turned her face to the side, not liking Cyfrin’s nearness, but thankfully he wasn’t in the least focused on her. His whole attention was on whatever magic he was using.

When the enchanter finally stepped back, looking exhausted, Aurelia ran a nervous hand over her tresses, half expecting them to be lopped shorter.

“What is it?” Cyfrin asked eagerly. “What do you feel?”

Aurelia stared at him in surprise. It was unusual for him to show any interest in what she experienced. Was he trying to make it seem like he cared? If so, he little realized how unconvincing his efforts were when compared with the passionate declaration of her recent visitor, that he would free her or die trying.

Forcing her thoughts away from Amell, Aurelia took stock of the sensation that had come over her while Cyfrin worked. “I don’t know how to describe it, exactly,” she admitted. “It feels like…my hair is lighter, but I’m heavier.”

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