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“Are you going to get into trouble for not killing me as a baby?” I had to ask.
“I’m fifty-six years old. I can’t get in trouble anymore,” she scoffed. “Do you agree to the terms of the vow?”
“If it gets you to trust me and train me, then yes.”
She held out her hand, and I clasped it. “Repeat after me. ‘By magic of old, it will be done.’”
I repeated her words, and a glow appeared around our hands. “By magic of vow, you are bound,” I said, repeating after her again, and this time, the glow seeped into our skin in patterns that probably made sense to her but looked like a child’s scribble to me. And as the glowing patterns went deeper and deeper, the light faded until it was gone.
She smiled triumphantly. “It is done. Shall we start lessons now?”
…
Learning magic was not as fun as I thought it would be. I thought it would be like playing piano—watch a YouTube video, bash a few keys, and learn through trying it out. But apparently, I had signed up for the university-level magic course, because I needed the history books, the reading magical symbols lessons, and the “safe magic” lectures before there was any kind of physical practice.
I didn’t know if it was a deliberate attempt to keep me from performing any magic before she trusted me or if it really was necessary, and while I was stuck in this dream, I couldn’t ask anyone else for reference.
Thankfully, as part of the vow conditions, she needed to teach me how to dream walk so I could meet her for lessons. She talked me through the process and told me more about the dreamscape, and I was fuming when I found out I could manipulate it just as much as she could with just a thought. If I had known that earlier, I wouldn’t have had to cut up my hands with the glass to escape capture. She just laughed when I told her, not at all apologetic.
We were still going through the itinerary of future lessons when I suddenly bowled over in pain. I shouted as my eyes squeezed shut and my body convulsed.
“Holy shit,” I breathed when the pain passed.
“Charlie? What’s happening? Are you—”
“Going to drain you of your magic like sucking toothpaste out of the tube?” I croaked sarcastically.
“I was going to say okay,” she replied dryly, patting me on the back reassuringly, awaiting my reply.
I was hit again with a sudden burst of pain, and I gasped, “Clawdia,” as I realized where the feeling was coming from. As the pain ebbed, I stood up, my streaming eyes blurring my vision, I looked around sightlessly. “I need to go.”
Elizabeth was more insistent and concerned when she asked again, “What’s wrong?”
“My familiar is being tortured.”
I didn’t know by whom or how she’d gotten into the situation in the first place, but I knew this was a physical pain and it was frequent. Torture.
No one tortures my girl and lives to tell the tale.
“Where is her soul pair? Can’t he help her?” Elizabeth asked, but her questions were like background noise. I could barely understand them as I tried to steady myself.
“He wasn’t there when I left. I need to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow for training like I promised.”
She nodded, concern and worry weighed heavily on her face. “Despite the rocky start, it was nice to meet you.”
I gave a short laugh and tried not to get emotional about that. When another shot of pain left me breathless, a tear escaped, and I gasped out “Jigglypuff.”
CHAPTER28
ZAIDE
Alcor’s gaze didn’t stray from the witch as Laurence began to introduce the task team leaders to us.
“This is the task team leaders appointed. Robert”—Laurence gestured to the dark-haired male—“is demonkin.” He waved another hand at the brunette male. “This is Isaac. He’s of shifter heritage. Danica is a vampire, Arabella is a witch, and Omaira is classified.” He pointed at each of the women.
Classified? How interesting.
Daithi also perked up at the secret and studied the woman in question.
