Kiara looked nervous as hell. “I hope they like me, too. I’ve been having trouble talking to people of my own Faction. Griffins aren’t very approachable. I want to talk to the boys, but they’re intimidating. Not scary so much as all-business.”
She sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever bond, or if I’m destined to mate with a human just like my mother.”
“You’ll find an amazing griffin to bond with someday,” I told her. “I bet he’s looking for you right now. And if you pick a human, that’s fine, too. What matters is that he makes you happy.”
“I hope so.” She
sighed. “Have you found your mate yet?”
My pulse quickened. “Yes. But I don’t think he even knows I’m alive.”
“That’s too bad.” She frowned. “I hope you two get together soon.”
A bitter loneliness crept into my throat. “So do I.”
* * *
Odette and Delmaretook pretty quickly to Kiara. It wasn’t two minutes into the conversation before Odette was making Kiara swear to come over for a makeover later while Delmare was asking if she wanted to go get tattoos.
Kiara as pretty uncomfortable, at first, but she got used to the two extroverts throwing themselves at her within the hour. By Monday, she’d officially been inducted by Odette into our little group.
The first week of fall in Malovia was bitterly cold. The leaves were turning a burning orange and bright red, and tiny snowflakes were beginning to fall on the golden evenings that quickly summoned winter. At Kiara’s request, I kept my head down in my classes, and did my best not to piss Lady Korva off— I was getting better at enchanting, though illusion still eluded me, and I still was having trouble keeping up with the drills in Monster Hunting 101. My other two classes—Intro to the Monarchy and Intro to Flight—were all history and theory, but I worried about my Flight class the most. I didn’t have my wings yet, as some sorceresses did, and I feared the day would soon come that I’d be asked to use them.
I was practicing illusion by myself near a fountain of a Marked with beautiful butterfly wings that afternoon. I was trying to make the statue come alive and flutter its wings, but all I’d managed to do was change the stone from gray to red, and I was stuck trying to figure out how to put it back.
I gave an angry sigh. “How the hell.” I waved my hands and tried again, focusing on my intention, but all the statue did was get redder.
“Having trouble with that?”
I heard a voice behind me. It was Ethan. His hands were in his pockets again. He was giving me an amusing look, like it was so funny I was busting my ass trying to make the statue come alive.
“If you’re going to tease me, go away,” I told him. I waved my hands again, and the statue gave Ethan the finger. I smiled. Not the result I wanted, but I’d take it.
Ethan laughed. “You can’t be that bad if you’re using objects to insult me.”
“I’m horrible. Don’t even go there.” I dropped my hands to my sides with asmack. “How do you guys do it? I’m way behind everyone else.”
“Marked are far better than Companions at magic. It’s you guys who hold the most power,” Ethan said.
“Could’ve fooled me.” I made a face. “Great. Now the thing’s stuck like that.”
“No it’s not.” Ethan waved his hand. A purple hue settled over the statue, and the red color I’d put into it drained away, until the statue appeared to be its normal self again. Once again, Ethan’s eyes flashed violet when he performed magic.
I crossed my arms. “Show-off.”
“The Arcanea who struggle the most with illusion find themselves incapable of being fake,” Ethan told me. “It’s a compliment, Emma, not a weakness. Being unable to conjure an illusion simply means you’re too honest.”
That made sense. Gabby was an exceptional illusionist, because she was the fakest bitch in school. “So how do I become a better illusionist?”
Ethan leaned in and whispered, “Be a better liar.”
He walked away, his broad shoulders strolling with a casual amble. His words caught my attention. What exactly did Ethan have to hide?
I thought about what I knew about the best illusionists. I knew Delmare wrote poetry and short stories in her free time. She’d even composed a novel that she’d self-published online. I read it, and thought it was really good. A bit dark, but that was Delmare. She was good at illusion casting. She had experience creating other worlds other people could hardly dream up.
Me, I was too rooted in reality. I struggled to use my imagination for anything my eyes couldn’t see, and it was killing me out here. I didn’t know why I still had trouble being inventive in a world where anything was possible.
Maybe it was because my mom had kept it from me for so long. I knew she wasn’t ready to tell me why, but someday, I needed to know.
