Page 127 of A Bolt of Magic

I look at the door again because they don’t always change for the best.

I press my hands to my face, feeling tears threaten again. “I wish I could do more. I feel useless.”

“You’ve been here for him. You care. You’re doing all you can.”

“Not enough.” How do I take him back to his friends like this? I keep thinking about it over and over. They would be horrified. Especially Thesha and Xander. They’d blame me, and they’d be right to. This is my fault. I should never have let him push me away like that.

“I was so stupid to have allowed this to happen.”

“This is on Lilith.” Lydia’s grip on my arm tightens. “Your mother deceived everyone – The Circle, the entire coven. All of us.” Her voice grows gentle. “I know you’ve been to see her several times, but she still refuses to say anything.”

I nod miserably. “She won’t talk to me, won’t talk to anyone. No one from The Circle, not the healers. She just sits in that cell, staring at the wall. It’s infuriating. Makes me want to choke her with my bare hands, but then I would be just like her.”

Before Lydia can respond, the door opens. Healer Morwyn emerges, her weathered face grave as she looks between us. She’s older than I expected, with silver hair braided with colorful feathers. I liked her the moment I saw her. She has kind but tired blue eyes.

“McColl, would you come inside, please? We need to talk.” Her voice is soft. She glances at Lydia. “If you will excuse us, dear?”

“Of course.” Lydia inclines her head for a moment.

My heart hammers as I follow her back into the room. It sinks when I see Kian sitting exactly where we left him, upright in the chair by the window, staring at nothing with those horrible glowing green eyes. He might as well be carved from stone for all the life he shows.

Healer Morwyn gestures to a chair across from her, and I sink into it gratefully, my legs suddenly weak.

“This is a conundrum indeed,” she begins, easing her own considerable frame into her chair. “But you deserve the truth. I’m not sure how much you know about dark magic. Evil magic.”

“We touched on it in our studies.”

“That is what this is. It’s evil and awful, but I’m sure you know that already. What do you know of conjurers?”

I nod. “I know that they are made. They’re not born.” I tell her what Kian told me not all that long ago, when we were in the Star Caves. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Her eyes flare with shock and then interest. “That’s right, child. It’s a terrible thing to do to a person. A terrible thing, indeed. It is against our teachings. As witches, we’re all about balance. Things like this skew that delicate balance. What has happened to this young man…young fae, is an atrocity. It should never have been inflicted on him,” Morwyn confirms grimly. “Your mother has always been ambitious, but this…she took it too far.”

I wish she would tell me what I don’t already know.

The healer sighs heavily. “What’s been done to your young man is that he has been half-turned. Caught somewhere between who he was and what Snow intends for him to become. It’s not all bad news.” She looks at me pointedly. “Had he been delivered to the queen as your mother planned, she would have completed the transformation, turned him into one of her puppets. At thatpoint, there would be no bringing him back. The man you love would be gone forever.”

My breath catches. “But as it stands now?”

“As it stands, it is possible to reverse the process. To bring him back to being the Kian you know and love.”

Joy explodes in my chest like fireworks. “Oh, thank the goddess. What do we need to do? Whatever it takes, I’ll—”

But Morwyn's expression stops me cold. The hope in her eyes has dimmed to something much more uncertain.

“That’s the problem, child,” she says quietly. “I don’t know how to make it happen. I’ve tried several of the most powerful healing spells in my arsenal, techniques passed down through generations of my coven. None of them worked. Not even the ancient rituals touched whatever darkness has taken hold of him.”

The words are like physical blows. “But…but you said it’s possible. Itispossible, isn’t it?”

“Theoretically, yes. The fact that he’s only half-turned means the door isn’t completely closed. But I…” She spreads her hands helplessly. “I’ve exhausted my knowledge. I’ll return to my coven and study the matter further, consult with our oldest texts, reach out to other healers. But I won't lie to you, McColl. I’m not hopeful. I also think that his condition might be progressive. I’m not sure how much time we have. It might not be enough.”

“Progressive?” I say in a choked voice.

“I’m so sorry,” Morwyn continues, reaching over to pat my hand with surprising gentleness. “I wish I had better news for you. That I could do more, but…I promise I’ll do everything in my power to find answers as quickly as I can.”

“Thank you for trying.”

“I wish I could have done more.” She stands.

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