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My eyes widen. “What?”
“You’ve read about the dark fae, right?” At my nod, he continues, “Then you know that their power is dominion of space.”
My brow wrinkles. “I didn’t really understand what that meant.”
“Do you know why it’s so hard to get replacement cartridges for our portal gun?” he asks.
The change in topic confuses me. “Because the spell is complicated?”
He shakes his head. “Because it’s not something witches can do.”
“But Reese does them,” I point out. “And he’s almost perfected the one for the portal gun.”
“Reese isn’t fully witchblood. He’s fae-touched.” Flint points at his eye, where Reese has a dark slash across his pupil that allows him to see past illusion and pass through the veils. “Being fae-touched means that part of his ancestry is dominant enough that it affects his magic.”
“Ah.” Realization dawns. “So portals are fae magic?”
Flint nods. “Yep.”
“But the High Lords can use portals,” I say. “I’ve seen Lord Marius do it.”
“Because they have rings created by the fae.” Flint leans closer, his voice dropping. “They want everyone to think it’s because they’re the most powerful demons in the world, but half their shit is spells made by witches and fae. And before you bring up the Librarian, she’s the Librarian. She has her own thing going on.”
My lips twitch. “Are you saying I’m special?”
He smacks my arm. “Yes, you’re a unique butterfly in a world abandoned by the rest of the fae.”
I pick up a napkin and vanish it to my pocket. “Still doesn’t seem very useful. My pocket can only hold so much.”
“Baby steps,” he says. “You’ll get better with practice.”
“Like what?” I ask, wanting to know what I can look forward to in my new world of magic.
Flint reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small clay bottle. “This may look small, but it contains infinite space.”
I’ve seen his spirit bottles in action before. They may look unassuming, but they’re powerful tools for containing souls. “Are you saying I could make something like that someday?”
“I know you’ll make something like this someday.” He hands me the bottle. “You made all my spirit bottles.”
“I did?” I roll it between my fingers. “How?”
“Dominion of space means you have the ability to manipulate the space around you.” He taps the cork that seals the bottle. “In this case, folding space to create a pocket inside the bottle. On a larger scale, dark fae created the Between, which is why the demon court hasn’t recreated it after it was torn apart.”
The Between, or the Forgetting, once contained the worst of monsters in existence. It’s where the Hive Queen was trapped until she escaped, along with all the other big bads.
“How long did it take you to consistently make things teleport to your pocket?” Flint asks.
“A few weeks.” I pull the napkin out and make it vanish again. “The first time it happened, I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it. But the more I tried, the easier it became. There’s something inside me, a darkness slithering around in my brain, and when I focus on it, the magic happens. Sometimes it happens when I’m angry, too.”
Flint sets his food container down. “How long have you been sensing the darkness?”
“For a few months,” I admit.
“Before the drone attacked us?” His expression turns thoughtful. “You’re blooming faster than usual.”
“Blooming?” I question.
“Fae are a long-living race, and they don’t come into full maturity until they’re in their fourth decade. They call it blooming. Like you’re a little acorn until you turn into a tree,” Flint explains. “Without your memories, you have no reference for how to access your powers, so we thought you would follow the natural cycle this time around.”
