Gooseflesh broke in my arm at the challenging tone.
“I opened the inquiry into the curse,” Malory replied evenly. “It will be carried here.”
He gave her a sharp nod, and it seemed one matter was concluded. But we were not done yet.
“Now,” Malory said, “why is your sister here?”
There wasn’t enough time to breathe between subjects. Reagan moved straight to what had transpired when my familycrossed the passage. The succinct version. The attack. My father’s injuries. The rings.
“Joy Darling surprised us when she defended herself,” he said. “With her own access.”
Joy stood rigid beside me, colour rising faintly in her cheeks.
“They were both unaware of the effects of the nullifying rings,” Reagan continued. “Their mother is deceased and may have been mageborn, but their surname is of human lineage, inherited from their father.”
He stepped closer to the desk and laid two folders before Malory. “The reason they were able to cross into my territory is evident now. You’ll find the results of their examinations inside.” He turned back toward us, his voice carrying a note close to triumph. “As you can see, there is no breach. They have been invited to remain in Mountheim, and I will oversee their adaptation myself.”
Malory read in silence.
“I formally request the waiver of Jane Darling’s sentence,” Reagan added, pocketing his hands in a casual gesture. “It turns out there was nothing wrong with her coming here.”
“Jane’s examination is hardly proof,” Malory said, her eyes on the papers.
“It’s inconclusive,” Reagan agreed. “But she manifested with a proclivity for Zara’s foresight.”
Malory’s stern face yielded nothing as she faced me.
With effort, I gathered my reeling thoughts. “The foresight he speaks of comes in my sleep. Most of my dreams are incoherent, but a few that I could understand did come to pass.” The nightmare of Joy being attacked by a Strzyga resurfaced in my mind, and I shoved it away.
“With training and time, she should be able to wield her power at will,” Reagan said.
“What about you, Miss Darling?” the judge asked Joy. “Can you demonstrate at will?”
Joy’s shoulders lifted, as though she drew a bracing breath. She moved slowly, inching closer to the desk. My fingers curled and uncurled in anticipation as I watched her.
“May I use this?” she asked, pointing to the glass of water on Malory’s desk.
The judge inclined her head.
Light coursed through Joy’s veins as she held the glass. For a moment, it muffled the room, filling my ears with soft cotton, gentle and tentative, carrying the faint scent of sunflowers.
She dipped two fingers into the cup and traced a trail across the wood. A line of frost followed, curling into a shape, each movement precise and controlled. Gradually, the form of a cat emerged over the desk.
Reagan had taught her this. It would have redeemed him for setting her off before, if I hadn’t known the look Reagan had when assessing a threat. When he was only calculating the risk of letting anyone else contain her if—
Joy gasped. I inhaled sharply, my eyes snapping to the desk.
The cat’s ear remained unfinished; a line of ice jerked toward a pile of papers, and a brief wind swept across the table. In the next instant, the frost thawed, the currents of power retreating.
Joy tipped back toward me, her mouth tightened as though chiding herself.
“That was incredible,” I whispered, squeezing her hand. It shook faintly.
A nervous twitch danced along her lips as Reagan’s voice filtered in. “…training yet to be done.”
Malory’s gaze lingered on Joy. Then on my hands, still holding hers.
“Extraordinary,” she said at last, “though lacking control that you seemtooready to contain.”
