Aflora bent to lay it on the table, and sure enough, the magical conduit disappeared.
However, the energy lingered behind it, my Source Architect power allowing me to identify the general makeup of the staff without actually seeing it. Sort of like looking into an electrical field and sensing the magnetic pulses but being unable to identify the unique layers themselves.
“That’s fascinating,” I said, impressed. “Who created it?”
“Who creates wands?” she countered.
A fair retort to a stupid question on my part. “The source.” Of course. Just like the dark source had created the cloak around Aflora’s shoulders and the choker at her throat holding it on her.
The clothes beneath the cloak were magical as well, but I suspected those were born of necessity for propriety more than the dark source gifting her magic. She would have been nakedwhen she’d shadowed to the village. Just as I’d been naked when I’d started running toward the meadow earlier to find her.
A quick spell had gifted me a button-down shirt, pants, and proper shoes.
Zephyrus wore a matching outfit.
Kolstov and Shade were just in their sleep bottoms and T-shirts.
What an interesting pack we made, our magic all unevenly matched and yet complementary to each other.
I lifted my ankle to rest it on my opposite knee, my focus on Zenaida. “What else did you and Lucifer negotiate?” I asked her, changing the topic away from the staff because I knew that wasn’t the only reason she wanted us here.
Zenaida adored her word games.
And I was a master at solving riddles.
Her blue eyes gleamed with amusement, pleased to have had her game spoiled. Of course, we both knew I’d been aware from the beginning that she was hiding something from us.
I’d just given her time to play hostess, had indulged in breakfast—which, thankfully, had not been poisoned, something I’d verified with magic before taking a bite—and had allowed her to give Aflora the staff because I’d assumed it would be beneficial for her next trial.
“Your father has requested entry,” Zenaida said softly. “I negotiated it, and the request has been granted.”
“Unity trial,” I replied, looking at Kolstov and then at Aflora before refocusing on Zenaida. “How long do we have to prepare?”
The Fortune Fae Omega blinked. “Not long.”
Meaning he was already on his way here. “Is he at the gates yet?” I asked casually, already mentally considering our options.
“Yes,” Aflora replied, reaching for the staff, power rippling around her. “I can feel them.” Her blue eyes met mine. “He’s brought several Quandary Bloods with him.”
“That’s quite the negotiation, Zenaida,” I muttered, glancing at the seer. “I assume you failed to give us notice for a reason?”
“There are no other paths, Zakkai. We were always destined to meet again. And Aflora deserved the break, regardless of how fleeting it could be.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “So now the sides will either join forces or…”
“Destroy each other,” I finished for her. “Thank you for the meal.” That’d been her version of helping us rejuvenate before Aflora’s next trial. My poor mate wasn’t even being given days to recover, just hours. But now that the source had marked her with the cloak, it would want to accelerate her ascension—something Constantine had assured would happen with his antics today.
The Elder had out-strategized me again.
My jaw ticked at the knowledge, my veins flooding with anticipation. “Time to go.”
“There’s more blood in the fridge,” Zenaida murmured. “Take it with you. Aflora will need it.”
Rather than take the offer, I bit into my wrist and held it to Aflora’s mouth.
My mate didn’t hesitate, taking what she needed before Zephyrus followed suit.
Zenaida merely smiled, her gaze knowing. “We’ll keep Ella here while you negotiate,” she said softly. Then she looked at the woman, her expression brightening. “I’ll make you cookies, dear. You’ll love them.”
Shade glanced sharply at his grandmother, but she was already on her way back to shoo Kodiak out of her kitchen.
