She slammed the cabinet door closed and turned on him. “Stay out of it.”
Abraxas snorted as she moved past him and back to the kitchen. “Yeah, right.”
Chapter 11
Mal returned to Blackstone each day. Each day, he watched Maxius. Taught him a training exercise. Encouraged him. And each day, Maxius failed to truly perform the way Mal instructed him to. Frustration never developed on the Prince’s face, though it was prominent on Maxius’.
Maeve watched them each day. She couldn’t find it within her to deny Maxius the potential to find his power. She couldn’t deny Mal his request to be near the boy. Not that it had been a request. She wondered if he’d ever command her to lower the shields around Maxius’ mind. It wouldn’t matter if he did. She had already made up her mind where that was concerned.
And the answer was no.
She watched as her son’s anger piled up with each failure. A visual reminder of why she never pushed him. She remained silent as he blew out the windows, the glass shelves, the picture frames, the vases, and the firelight fixtures. Mal watched with unmatched patience as his Magic never manifested much more than violent and uncontrolled destruction in a close vicinity.
When their lesson ended, Maeve left the shattered mess. She’d mend it all later, not in front of Maxius. Her son turned sharply and made for the stairs.
“You need to eat something,” she stated calmly, standing and heading towards the kitchen without acknowledging Mal.
I don’t want to, he signed, not looking at her.I want to go to bed.
“You’ll feel better if you eat even something small, love.”
Maxius shook his head, his scowl never softening. She reached for his hair as she moved past him, the gesture familiar. He swatted her away with a sharp hit. Residual Magic from his outburst trickled into her skin like tiny flecks of ice.
“Maxius,” said Mal, his voice cool and low.
The boy’s eyes shot to him as he swallowed hard. They stared at one another. Maxius, with his heavy and frustrated breaths, and Mal, with his unsettling emotionless control.
“You’re working hard,” said Mal. “That requires you to eat.”
I’m just failing,signed Maxius, his movements fast and sharp.Like always.
Only then did Maeve see the tears swelling along the bottom of his eyes. Her lips parted. Mal spoke before she could offer him reassurance or comfort.
“Failure,” said Mal, his eyes locked with Maxius’ glassy ones, “is the only path to success.”
Maxius’ lips quivered. His fingers balled into fists at his side.
“Breathe,” said Mal, his tone soft.
So soft it made Maeve’s chest ache.
But Maxius did. He breathed. And his tiny fists uncurled at his sides. He swallowed, and by the fourth breath, his eyes were dry.
“What if,” came Zimsy’s voice as she rounded the corner, dressed in a thick coat, a fuzzy head wrap, and gloves, “we went to your favorite restaurant in the Beryl City?”
Maxius ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at Zimsy. She already had his coat and hat draped over her arm. His breathing began to settle.
“I’ll come with you,” said Maeve.
“You’ve been hogging him for weeks,” said Zimsy. “This will be just Maxius and Aunt Zim time, hmm?” She smiled down at him again as Maxius took his coat from her and slid his arms in the sleeves.
“Thank you,” Maeve mouthed to her, acknowledging that he needed space, and happy she had such a friend she trusted him with.
Zimsy took his small hand in hers, and they left. Maeve turned towards Mal. His eyes followed Maxius until the pair vanished from sight.
“Do you have to push him so hard?” she fired immediately.
Mal nearly rolled his eyes. “If you think this is me pushing him hard, I’d encourage you to prepare yourself.”
