Page 87 of Her Dreadful Will
Delaney nodded. “There’s a sketch of her wearing that one. I could never find any details on what it does, though.”
“It’s shielded somehow,” said Soleil. “You know how a ring usually gives you a mental hint about its active and latent powers once you touch it? Like, you can perceive what to do with it?”
“Like a magical instruction booklet. Yeah.”
“This one does nothing like that. There is absolutely nothing.”
“Huh.” Delaney relaxed against the sofa again. “Maybe it’s a fake. A replica.”
“No.” Soleil shook her head. “I can feel it, somehow. It—it calls to me.” She winced. “I know how it sounds. Stupid, right?”
Angelou gave her an apologetic smile. “A little.”
But Delaney sat up straight and paused the show. “No, no. Not stupid. What’s your background? French?”
“French Canadian,” Soleil answered. “Northern Quebec.”
“So your ancestors came over from France.” Delaney’s heavily lined eyes widened.
“I guess, yeah—”
“So—logically—what’s the conclusion?”
Soleil stared. “Um...”
“You’re related to Catherine Monvoisin. That’s why the ring calls to you. Yeah, there’s a whole theory about magical bloodlines, generational gaps, gift resurgence—”
“I learned some of that at the Institute, in Sources and Affinities class. Magic can disappear for multiple generations, and then the same gifts crop up again.”
Delaney’s mouth tightened. “I never took the class, obviously, but Achan told me the gist of it. So, yeah. La Voisin probably had a mind-flex gift like yours, or something similar. It would explain why she was so influential and yet wasn’t executed for witchcraft for decades. No one would testify against her, even though everyone knew she was practicing.”
Angelou traced another thread-thin line of color down Soleil’s fingernail. “Maybe the ring has a companion power, something to complement your magic. It may need to be recharged.”
Soleil shivered, and goosebumps rose on her skin. Could she be descended from La Voisin? It was equally disturbing and delightful to contemplate.
“Hold still,” said Angelou. “I’m almost done, and then we’ll have a look at this ring of yours.”
Delaney leaned forward. “Why are you giving her all the slutty symbols? Those are usually my thing.”
“I can put them on yours too, babe. Relax.” Angelou gave her a wink. “But I think Soleil needs a little extra push in the romance department.”
“I’m not the one who needs a push,” Soleil muttered.
A harsh laugh broke from Delaney, its sharpness matching her satisfied grin. “So our glorious leader remains impenetrable. I thought you had wriggled your way in there, for sure.”
“Wriggled my way inwhere, exactly?” Soleil raised her eyebrows, and Angelou giggled so hard she had to stop painting Soleil’s nails. “And, no. There’s been no wriggling.”
“Maybe he’s asexual,” suggested Angelou, dipping the applicator in the nail polish again.
Soleil thought of Achan’s reaction to her nearly-nude form in the moonlight. His body and his eyes had betrayed him.He’s not asexual,she wanted to answer, but then they might ask how she knew, and that would lead to the part of the story she hadn’t told them—the slow unfolding of her relationship with Achan. If prickly discussions, half-hostile banter, and a sort of magical mentorship laced with sexual tension equaled arelationship.
She looked up, and met Angelou’s golden-brown eyes, rimmed with artificially long lashes. Those eyes held an awareness, a perceptiveness that reminded Soleil uncomfortably of Achan himself. Soleil had to hold back her own power, had to strain and fight not to listen to Angelou’s volisphere, not even when the girl was this close and the circle of her will sparkled with enchanting music—
She tugged her fingers from Angelou’s, causing a streak of black where the last sigil should have been. “I’ll go get the ring.”
“Be careful,” Angelou called after her. “Don’t mess up any more of my handiwork!”
Soleil opened her bedroom door and slipped inside, shutting it behind her. Carebear rose from his bed, blinking, his expression a blend of haughty disapproval at being shut in the room, and hopeful appeal that perhaps he might be allowed to come out.
