Page 83 of A Bolt of Magic

I’m having to work hard. Their combined force is strong, getting ever stronger as another barrage strikes.

“We have to stick to the plan,” I grit out.

The paltry plan we devised over breakfast.

“Let them exhaust themselves against your magic,” he says. “And don’t give them any reason to think we’re a threat,” he adds, not sounding too optimistic.

The warriors spread out around us, their attacks becoming more coordinated, more vicious. I feel sweat bead on my forehead from the effort of maintaining the shield against their combined assault.

“Stop!” I call out, my voice echoing strangely through the magical barrier. “I’m McColl of the Ravencrest clan! It’s me. Daughter of Lilith, head of The Circle. Head of this coven.”

The attacks pause for a moment, uncertainty rippling through their ranks. Then one of the figures steps forward.

“Lies!” she growls. I recognize the voice but can’t quite place who it is.

“It’s me, I swear.”

“McColl of the Ravencrest clan has very little magic to speak of,” she says, her voice ringing out. I am able to place a face along with it. She lifts her hands, preparing to strike.

“Is that you, Lydia Thornwick?” I ask, keeping my shield firmly in place.

Her hands drop back to her sides. “McColl? Is that really you?” she asks, lowering her hood to reveal a face I know all too well. She was two years ahead of me at the academy, and she made my life miserable every chance she got. Her dark hair is longer now, braided with silver threads that mark her rank among the Children of the Veil, but her cold blue eyes and cruel smile are exactly the same.

“Well, well,” she says, her voice dripping with mock surprise. “Little McColl Ravencrest. I almost didn't recognizeyou.” Her gaze travels over me, scrutinizing me. “Dare I say that you’ve grown up since leaving. You’ve changed. And more importantly,” her eyes narrow as she studies the shield still shimmering around us, “how, by all that is holy, are you wielding magic like that? If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

I lift my chin, trying to project a confidence I don't feel. “I’ve had time to practice.”

Lydia’s laugh is sharp and humorless. “That, I believe. You were always good at practicing and then never really any good at doing.” She laughs, and the others laugh, too. I think I might recognize one or two of the other voices. “The girl who could barely create a flame. You had a hard time lighting a candle.” Her gaze shifts to Kian, taking in his pointed ears and the sword at his side. “I have a feeling that he has something to do with it. Am I getting warm?”

I ignore the question. It has nothing to do with her.

“And what exactly are you doing traveling with a fae? Have you lost your mind completely?” she sneers.

“I don’t answer to you, Lydia. I’m here to see my mother,” I say, still refusing to answer her questions. “Take us to her.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Lydia’s smile turns predatory. “Not until you drop that little shield of yours and we can deal with your…companion properly. Fae are not welcome here. You should know that.”

“The fae stays protected,” I say firmly. “He is here as my guest. We go together, or we don’t go at all. My mother might get angry if she finds out you turned her only daughter away. Especially now that I have finally come into my powers.” It’s not exactly true, but it’s a card I’m willing to play, nonetheless.

“Is that what you’re calling him?” She looks at Kian appraisingly. “Your guest?” She sniggers. “I suppose they are pretty, these fae.”

“Yes, Lydia, he is my guest. Can you take me to my mother now, please,” I insist.

Lydia’s expression hardens. “You always were too stupid for your own good, McColl. Trusting a fae? Befriending the enemy?” She snorts. “You’ve become a traitor to your own kind.”

I have to fight not to roll my eyes at her accusations. “Just take us to my mother,” I repeat.

Lydia exchanges glances with the other warriors, who have formed a tight circle around us. Then she throws back her head and laughs. “Oh, my dear sweet, little, gullible McColl.”

I want to tell her that I’m not little anymore, that I can’t be bullied anymore but I don’t. It isn’t worth it.

“If you liked your fae plaything so much, you shouldn’t have brought him here to be broken,” she says. “You have no idea what you’re walking into, do you? Your mother is going to love your little gift to her. My only question to you is, are you going to be able to watch him die?” Her smile turns vicious. “She’s going to break that pathetic shield of yours like it’s made of spun glass, and then she’s going to kill your fae friend slowly. The only good fae, after all, is a dead fae. You should know that as one of us. Then again, you were never one of us. Not really. Certainly not a daughter of a Ravencrest. You might have a bit of magic, but you’re still pathetic. Are you sure you shouldn’t run while you still have a chance?” She lifts her brows. “I’m giving you one chance to leave. It’s now or never.”

Kian shifts his weight. I can practically feel him bristling. His jaw is tight. I don’t think he’s worried about death. I don’t think it has anything to do with his tension.

Ice flows through my veins at her words. I’m not sure why since this is exactly what I was afraid of. My mother is the most powerful witch in our coven. I’m not sure I can stand against her and win. I’m not sure I ever want to be in that position. She maynot have been the nicest person to me over the years, but she is still my mother.

“I don’t want to run. My mother is indeed a powerful witch, but then I am her daughter. I think we’d better get moving,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

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