Page 148 of A Winding Wave of Magic
Caitlin sniffed, pulling my attention back to the present. A slight weight in my mind released—she had been there the whole time, watching my thoughts.
“It’s a gift you have, Cassandra,” she said. “Not a curse. Thank you for that.”
I smiled, unsure. “You could See her after?”
“Just her reflection in your thoughts. But that was enough. And it was beautiful. It’s been a long time.”
She took a lighter and a bundle of juniper from her pocket and proceeded to light the end. I watched her perform the same saining ritual I’d been taught, but she did it quickly and efficiently so that after just a minute or two, every vision had been swept out the now-open windows while fresh air flowed in. They’d be back, of course. But it would give us some peace.
The cottage wasn’t as rustic as it appeared on the outside, having been outfitted with electricity and running water well before Gran left.But of course, it would be,I thought. The island wasn’t so primitive that people wouldn’t have electricity.
From the kitchen, Caitlin snorted as she lit a fire in a wood-burning stove similar to hers. “You’d be surprised.”
Ignoring the fact that she was still reading my thoughts without permission, I walked through the house, curious about the place where Gran had grown up. The common area was split between the kitchen in one corner and a living room where a faded floral sofa and a mission-style armchair faced a fireplace built into the north side of the house. Two bedrooms openeddirectly from the living room, and in between them was a tiny bathroom.
I glanced into the rooms. Both were spartan at best. One contained a single mattress and bureau against white-washedstone walls; the other only had a small teacher’s desk pushed under a window and several empty bookcases.
The house was full of memories, but little else. True to form, Gran had left as little of herself here as she could.
Disappointment cupped my heart. When I was growing up, we had so few personal mementos—photographs, family albums, and such—amidst her collection of flea-market items. Part of me had hoped that the houses I inherited would be full of things more personal than the bric-a-brac I’d been given. Anything that might give me a few more clues to the history of the woman who had known me best. Who were her parents? Did she have any other family? How had she gone from isolation to the position of power I was supposed to inherit? How hadsheinherited it herself?
But as a shield, she didn’t want anyone answering those questions. Not even me.
“Cassandra.”
Having made tea while I explored, Caitlin was now seated at a weathered table nearly identical to her own. I slid into the seat opposite her, where a large cup of steaming tea awaited me. A ribbon of steam spiraled from the spout of an ancient kettle on the stove.
“All right,” she said in a tone that meant business. “Normally, as an apprentice, you would take some tests to find out what you can do exactly. But we know that you can do almost anything so long as you’re touching another fae. But we also know you can’t protect yourself to save a cup of tea, much less your own life.”
Caitlin took a deep sip of tea before continuing, almost as if to demonstrate her point.
“So,” she continued, “we’ll start defense. Then we’ll work on channeling others, not just Seeing them. We have, after all, two sorcerers in the house, and Jonny manifests as a shifter as well. When he returns, we’ve got a bit to work with. I’ve a siren friend in Doolin who might come over for a day or two as well.”
I nodded if only to be agreeable, though I had no idea what any of this work might entail. She nodded back and took another sip. The conversation lapsed into silence, and after a minute or two, I began to wonder if she expected me to say something, a kind of “let the games begin” kind of moment. Except I had no idea what to say. So I continued to wait. One minute dragged to five, and Caitlin continued to sip. I sighed. This was a complete waste of time if all we were going to do was stare at each other.
“Well, I admit I’m no looker, but I don’t think I’m the worst thing to rest your eyes on.”
I grimaced—of course, that would be the thought she chose to hear. “I’m sorry, but you don’t have to keep listening in, you know.”
Caitlin smiled and shook her head. “So, kick me out.”
I frowned. Was she even still there?
The thought provoked another smile. “It’s stealth, you see. I didn’t bother masking before, but with most, you don’t feel it, do you? Those you can are young and inexperienced. Like this.”
An obvious pressure expanded inside my head. Okay, that I knew. Sometimes she had afforded me that awareness, it seemed.
“Feel that?”
I nodded, a little proud of myself.
“That had about as much finesse as a thirteen-year-old boy,” she said. “Now, think of a number between one and ten. And focus on that sensation you just felt.”
I did.
“Seven,” she replied instantly.
I laughed. “That’s incredible. I couldn’t feel you at all.”
