She’d forgotten about that requirement in the heat of the ‘thrall’ debate. “No.” She winced and braced herself for the inevitable pushback. “I know you’re going to say that we shouldn’t do it—”
“I know you’re going to argue convincingly that we should.” He smiled at her with such love and gentleness that her breath caught.
And it made her reconsider.
“You’re right,” she said heavily. “It’s stupid to risk killing myself with a spell I can’t control, not least when you’d die too.” She huffed a bitter laugh. “Doing Roberto’s work for him.” She reclined on the couch with a sigh and massaged her neck with one hand. “Damn it. So close.”
“Talk me through the spell,” he said, then got off the bed and joined her on the couch.
“Sure, why not.” She turned the screen so he could see. She’d studied it so much that she knew it by heart anyway. “So the structure we already discussed. We basically drink from each other, which shouldn’t be a problem for you.” She gave him a tired smile. “Then the fragments. I’ve gone with these two.”
Antoine leaned forward, reading. “‘Strength comes from a shining dark; gathering in the heart, it sets me alight.’ Poetic—if it doesn’t burn you from the inside.” He read the next. “‘Like a stream from the mouth, a flame from the core, it leaves me behind, passing my threshold.’” He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting choices.”
“Limited options.” She shrugged. “In theory, it’s the intent that makes all the difference. I’ve done spells before without any Gaeilge. But these ones are bona fide witch magic—apparently. That should count for something, right?”
He leaned back. “I suppose there’s always a chance you will be able to control the flow of power, and merely stop it when you wish.”
“Yes.” She brightened. “That’s possible, isn’t it?”
“It’s problematic if you can’t.”
She bit her lip. “This might sound extreme, but you could always just knock me out. That would cut it off.”
“Perhaps; perhaps not.” He sighed. “This is the issue with trying to control forces we know nothing about.” He gestured at the books. “Have you read anything to suggest how the spells are powered?”
“No, not really. They talk mostly about structure, fragments, and intent.”
“Intent… Yes, you said.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw as he considered it. “Well, maybe that’s the answer.”
“How so?”
“Have your intent be to transfer afractionof your power—as a test. If it works, we can try more. You may find you can control the flow, like a tap that can be turned on or off. Or, as you say, we can resort to more violent ways of stopping it, if the need arises.”
“Does this mean you’re willing to try?”
“Willing?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “No,ma chérie,I wouldn’t use that word. But I accept your argument that there’s no success without the risk of failure.” He gave her a smile. “Don’t make me regret this. I will not be amused if you kill yourself.”
“Noted,” she said dryly. “On the plus side, if I do end up becoming your thrall, it’ll be the end of arguments.”
“I very much doubt it,” he said, deadpan. “But we will be able to have them over longer distances.”
She laughed. “You know, it would be absolutely worth it if we could communicate like you talk to Noah.”
“Well, let’s find out. Are you ready?”
She nodded, suddenly nervous. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Very well. Where do you want me?”
“Uh, sitting right there, I guess. I suppose we could get a whole bunch of candles and do it naked, but it’s not called for.”
“Alas.” His lips twitched.
“Behave yourself,” she muttered playfully. “I need to concentrate.”
“I’ll be a good, quiet Chalice.”
“I don’t think there’s much risk of that.” She read quickly over the Gaeilge one last time, making sure she knew it all. “All right, let’s do this. You’re up first.”
