Page 87 of A Bolt of Magic

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Kian

The High Mystic’s transformation from concerned mother to calculating ruler happens in an instant, and I suddenly feel her scrutiny like a physical force.

I turn to McColl, meeting her eyes for just a moment. She gives me the slightest nod.

“Don’t look at her. Look at me, Fae. I’m your lifeline. Not her! I’m your only chance of survival, if you play your cards just right.” Her dark eyes bore into mine with an intensity that would make a lesser fae flinch. “Well?” she demands, her voice sharp as winter wind. “I’m waiting, and I hate to wait.”

I straighten in my chair, meeting her gaze directly.

“Very well, I am Kian, King of the Emptyfae Court,” I tell her, keeping my eyes on hers. “Or I was, once. Know that I will be again.”

Lilith’s laugh is sharp and humorless. “You expect me to believe such utter nonsense? The fae kings fled years ago and have never been seen again. Besides,” her eyes narrow as she studies me, “I can feel the magic radiating from you. Emptyfaehave no access to their powers. Perhaps you are not an emptyfae. Is that it?” She trails off, confusion flickering across her features. “The problem I keep coming back to is that you seem to be telling me the truth.” She frowns. “I don’t understand. How is it possible?” She seems to be speaking more to herself at this point.

“I know it sounds impossible,” I say, reaching for the laces of my tunic. “But maybe this will convince you that I am who I say I am. Then perhaps we can move forward. We can talk, and it will become clear as to why I risked life and limb to meet with you.”

I pull the fabric aside, exposing the elaborate royal marking that covers the left side of my chest. The intricate tree design seems to glow in the magical light of the room, its black ink shot through with veins of gold that mark me as fae royalty. The tree itself is the symbol of the emptyfae. There can be no mistake.

I am who I say I am.

Lilith’s intake of breath is sharp and sudden. The crushing magical presence in the room eases slightly as she stares at the unmistakable proof of my identity.

“Your Majesty,” she says immediately, her entire demeanor shifting. “Forgive me. I did not know that I—”

“Please, High Mystic,” I interrupt, uncomfortable with the sudden formality. Something about her swift change in attitude doesn’t sit right with me. King or no, I am her enemy. “You must call me Kian. I insist.”

Lilith sits back into her chair, but her posture has changed entirely. Where before she radiated cold authority, now there’s something that looks like fascination.

“Of course. Kian,” she tests my name like she’s tasting wine. “But only if you call me Lilith. I beg of you, please, to tell me how this is possible. How do you have access to magic when you should not? How are your powers connected to my daughter’s? You were right to bring him, McColl, dear. I am proud of you.”

I know that these are words that McColl has longed to hear her whole life. Yet she nods once, not looking like she quite believes them. She glances my way, and her stance softens just a little.

I look back at Lilith and launch into the story. I tell her about the eclipse, about breaking the amulet around McColl’s neck, about the bolt of magic that struck us both changing everything. I explain how our powers seem to be linked now. I don’t tell her that our powers only work when we’re relatively close to one another. That is information she doesn’t need. Although I am not so naive as to think that she doesn’t already know.

Throughout my account, Lilith’s expression grows more intrigued.

“Fascinating,” she murmurs when I finish. “Absolutely fascinating. The implications alone…” She looks between us with what appears to be genuine delight. “You’ve stumbled upon something extraordinary.”

I don’t trust her, but I don’t show it. I need her cooperation.

“Why are you here, Kian of the Emptyfae Court? How can we help you? How can I help you? You need to know that any friend of my daughter is a friend of this coven and certainly of this house.”

McColl pulls in a heavy breath but doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you, that means a lot. The reason I am here…” I say, leaning forward slightly. “The reason is that I wanted an audience specifically with you, the High Mystic. And it’s important to note that I not only speak for myself but for my fellow kings when I say that I want us to be allies against a common enemy.”

Lilith’s eyes brighten with interest. “Please continue. I am all ears.”

“We’re planning to wage war against Snow,” I say simply. “To take back our realm and restore it to what it once was. But wecan’t do it alone. We need allies – powerful allies who share our goal of seeing Snow defeated and our realm, and with it all of the eight kingdoms, restored to greatness.”

For a moment, Lilith is silent, her fingers steepled as she considers my words. Then, a slow smile spreads across her face. “There is nothing I would like better than a realm free from that bitch’s influence,” she says. “We have to work tirelessly to keep this small part of Regana healthy enough for us to thrive. But the sheer amount of wasted energy has become exhausting. It can’t go on. It would be wonderful to see everything restored to its former glory, to return to the old ways when fae and witches could coexist peacefully.” She nods decisively. “Yes, I believe this alliance could benefit us all greatly.”

Fae and witches have never coexisted peacefully. Not really. We just kept our distance and had an understanding, perhaps. But peace? Real coexistence? Never. Again, I don’t call her out. It will only serve to hinder my reason for being here.

“You are welcome to stay as my guest,” Lilith continues, rising gracefully from her chair. “I can accommodate you here in my home, or, if you’d prefer more privacy, I can arrange for you to stay in one of the finest houses in our village. Whatever would make you most comfortable.”

She moves to a side table and begins pouring herself a glass of water, her movements elegant and controlled. She holds the jug up, and both McColl and I decline.

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