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“It wasn’t just faerie magic,” Oleander insisted, eyes wide and a little frantic. “I couldn’t do something that huge. I’m just a sprite. In fact, no one in Blood Rose can do what Astrid just did.”
I swallowed hard because I had an idea of what point he was about to make. The same one Professor Lavant had.
“So? What are you saying?” Morgana asked.
“It was Sidhe magic.”
“What?” I started, shaking my head.
He looked at me and nodded insistently. “Royal magic, Astrid. You sidestepped into faerie and then back again in less time than it took to breathe.”
Morgana’s breath caught. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yeah,” Oleander answered, voice rising with excitement. “You were totally right. Bringing her here was exactly what we needed. If we hadn’t, we would have never known.”
“It’s great that you understand each other,” Rook said, irritation seeping into his voice. “But could someone give the CliffsNotes for the magically illiterate?”
“Um, I have to second Rook,” I said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Even though I sort of did, but wanted to make sure I fully understood.
We rounded the corner toward the kitchens. The light was better here. I could see the bounce in Oleander’s step. He hadn’t looked this anticipatory since he’d badmouthed Vivian on our first day. He was downright giddy; face alive with a joy I couldn’t understand.
“God, you guys are dumb,” Oleander said as his attention settled on me. “You’re royal, Astrid.”
“I can’t be a royal,” I protested, shaking my head. And yet, Professor Lavant had said the same thing. But they could still be mistaken. “Royal Fae… no, that’s a lot of power. If I were Sidhe, I would have started showing signs a lot earlier.”
“Not necessarily,” Oleander said, waving a reproving finger at me. “The Sidhe, well, most faeries really, are very long-lived. We don’t reach young adulthood until fifty. I just turned fifty-six this year. Shasta got in early. She was only forty-five. You might have been working cantrips and glamours without meaning to over the years and you didn’t even notice. You might not have grown into your powers until now.” He paused to study me. “I mean, you look young for a witch. You’re probably what? Thirty?”
I ducked my chin, unable to meet their eyes. I hadn’t realized until now just how much younger than everyone else I really was. I’d known Morgana had at least fifty years on me, and Rook had me by nine times that. And now I knew that Oleander was thirty-eight years older than I was.
“Eighteen,” I mumbled.
“What?” Oleander asked.
“I’m eighteen,” I said, raising my voice so they could hear me. I still couldn’t look at them.
“I know you look eighteen but what I’m asking,” he started.
I shook my head. “No, I am eighteen.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Morgana cackled. She elbowed Rook in the ribs. “You’re a cradle-robber! She’s practically an infant. At that age, she’s probably still a virgin. Did he steal your first kiss, Depraysie?”
“What? No!” I railed, feeling my cheeks coloring. “Of course not! I had three boyfriends in high school. I’ve rounded most of the bases.” Most of which was a lie, but I was sticking to it.
“But not all of them,” she sing-songed. She turned to Rook with a haughty smirk on her lips. “Oh, that’s hilarious. You’re like one of those schlock b-movie vampires preying on a delicate maiden. If she’d been wearing white, it’d be the perfect cliche.”
“Will you give it a rest,” he grumbled.
“He didn’t do anything that I haven’t done before,” I said defensively. “Now shut it before I hex you.”
“Big talk from the infant,” she countered, still laughing. “I know curses that would literally make your hair curl. And fall off. Or catch on fire.”
My hands balled into fists at my sides. My threat had been an empty one, but the more she needled me, the more I wanted to throw a bolt of force at the back of her head. I’d always been better at white magic than other witches. I’d never had the ill-will needed to seriously hurt someone, but Morgana’s attitude was beginning to seriously piss me off. I opened my mouth to curse her, but before I could gather any power, a hand slid into mine. I glanced up to find Rook standing next to me. He gave me a slight shake of the head.
It’s not worth it, his eyes seemed to say.
I relaxed a little. He was probably right. We didn’t need to fight. Not when we were getting close to what we were looking for.
“I’m still in the dark about what she did, or how it’s relevant to our search,” Rook said, steering the conversation back on track as he released my hand and mine felt strangely cold.
