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“Absolutely not.” Regulus pulled Adelaide closer.
Minutes ago, he thought he had traded slavery to the sorcerer for slavery to fairies, of all things. He might not know much about magic, but everyone knew fairies were tricky. Manipulative. He had just seen that for himself. According to the stories, they also liked to trap people in their realm.
“We’re leaving.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” the female fairy said with a hiss. The other fairies whispered to each other. “You aren’t ready, mage. Kirven has honed his skills for years. If you face him unprepared, you will die.”
Adelaide curled into Regulus and placed a hand on his chest. “For how long?” she asked.
“As long as it takes,” the male fairy said.
“Or until we run out of time,” the female added.
Regulus fought the urge to draw his sword. It wouldn’t help in this instance. “Why can’t I come?”
“You’re not a mage.” The female stated this as if it were obvious. “If you came with us, you wouldn’t be able to leave.”
“You wouldn’t let me leave?”
The male fairy rolled his eyes. “No, you wouldn’t be able to. You need magic to leave the fairy realm.”
“Why can’t you teach me here?” Adelaide asked.
An excellent question, Regulus thought. Tricksters.
“We can’t stay here long,” the female said. “We weaken the longer we are in this realm.”
“Can I talk to Regulus alone for a moment?”
The two fairies looked at each other, as if having a silent conversation. Regulus glanced toward the horses. If the fairies were telling the truth about weakening while in their world, maybe they had a chance at running away.
“Fine.” The female waved her hand dismissively.
They stepped away from the fairies and Adelaide folded her arms over her stomach. Regulus tapped his leg.
“I don’t like it.”
“But they have a point.” Adelaide bit her lower lip. He blinked. He needed to focus on the problem at hand and not how attractive that was. “What if it takes a mage to stop a sorcerer?” She kicked at the ground. “And I can’t...” She looked away.
“Hey.” He tilted his head and moved to catch her eyes. “Look at me.” She met his gaze. “I don’t trust them.” He rubbed her arms. “But they are right about one thing. I can’t make this choice for you.”
“What would you do if you were me?” Adelaide glanced at the fairies, then met his eyes again.
He pursed his lips. “I’m done making questionable deals with people or beings with magical powers.”
She took a steadying breath before turning back to the fairies. He followed her, hand twitching on the hilt of his sword. The fairies watched with crossed arms, wings beating faster than Regulus could see.
“Thank you,” Adelaide said, “but...I don’t want to leave this realm. I’ll take anything you can tell me or teach me before you have to go back.”
The fairies muttered to each other. The dark male in blue pulled on his hair. “Foolish. Why are the humans always so foolish!”
The lead female shook her head. Regulus had the odd thought that the movement should sound like a tiny bell. “Fine. You must practice. Practice until you can do three things at once without thinking. Practice until you don’t have to picture what you’re going to do first, you just remember how to do it on instinct. You have talent and much power, but little control. The more control and focus you have, the more precise you will be, and the less energy you will waste. Wasted magic will mean death when facing someone as powerful as Kirven.”
“If you came with us, we would show you how to create your own staff,” the male said. “Although it can take years to learn to craft one as fine-tuned as the Staff of Nightfall. But I suppose you can teach yourself. Start small. It’s easier if you use something that was once living, especially if it had magical energy while it lived. Try to store magic in leaves from the neumenet tree. Build up gradually.”
“We will teach you one thing before we go,” the female added. “Protection binding. You’ve felt the corrupted, twisted version before.”
“The sorcerer’s mark,” Adelaide said. Regulus tensed.
“Correct.” The female flew closer. “Such a mark can only be bestowed if the bearer accepts it. It binds the giver to the receiver, and the receiver to the giver.”
“It’s difficult.” The male swayed from side to side. “It’s rather like putting magic into an object, but easier since people are natural receptacles of magic. You channel the magic into a person with a specific intent—to heal, protect, and unite. Think of it like healing and raising a shield all at once, but directing that energy into the person’s very soul.”
“It’s draining,” the female fairy added. “And takes time to recover due to the amount of magical energy sacrificed. So never attempt a binding unless you’re sure you have time.”
“You’re certain you won’t come with us?” The male tilted his head.
Adelaide reached back and Regulus took her hand. “I’m sure.”
The fairies muttered and shook their heads.
“Then farewell.” The female curtsied, her red hair falling into her face. “Stay here and practice as long as you can. The magic of the neumenet will help you. It has a way of guiding mages it favors, but it can only do so much. Return here and call for Jara if you change your mind. You’re Monparth’s best hope. Possibly its only hope.” She looked at Regulus. “You both are.”
Regulus swallowed back the knot forming in his throat. No pressure. Then the fairies vanished, leaving empty air. A glittering neumenet leaf drifted through the emptiness. He followed its slow descent as it arced back and forth until it landed on the grass.
“I can’t do this,” Adelaide whispered without looking at him.
He shifted. If he were honest, he was scared, too. The sorcerer had always intimidated him. But now...he sounded unbeatable. No, he wouldn’t think like that. Not after he had fought for so long for his freedom. One thing Regulus had learned as a mercenary—every opponent was beatable. Some were just harder. He turned her toward him.
“Remember when I told you I took over the mercenary troop after the old captain retired?”
Adelaide knit her brows and looked up at him. “Yes?”
“He retired after his arm was crushed by a troll. He and two of the other mercenaries had gone to purchase supplies, got lost, and ran into a cave troll. One of the men didn’t make it, and Captain Samuelson nearly lost his arm. He was an experienced, adept fighter. So was Jack—the man who was killed. Samuelson and Ivan almost didn’t escape.” And later I lost Ivan to the sorcerer. He pushed that thought aside.
She shook her head. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” Regulus took both of Adelaide’s hands in his, “it was only a few days ago that you killed a troll. Do you remember? I do. I remember you looking fearsome and powerful, cutting the head off a mountain troll with a sword of light wreathed in flame. You can do anything, Tha Shiraa.”
She lowered her eyes, her head drooping. “I couldn’t even free you from some tiny fairies.”
“First, fairies are notoriously one of the most powerful magical beings in the known world.” He caught the hardness of what Dresden had termed his “captain voice” and tried to pull it back. “Second, you weren’t at your full strength, so it doesn’t count.”
“But—”
“I’ll help you. All right? I’ll help you train. And then we’ll stop Kirven together.” He let go of her hand to lift her chin. “Who are you, Adelaide?”
“I’m...a mage?”
“You’re the woman who ran at a group of armed men who were beating me. The woman who volunteered to go serve a sorcerer even though she was afraid.” He smiled. She might not believe in herself, but he believed in her. “Where is the woman who killed a troll? Because that woman knows she’s a mage. That woman is a tigress. So say it again.”
“Regulus—”
“Say it like you mean it. I’m a mage.”
She smirked. “No, you’re not.”
He rolled his eyes. “Say it, piahre.” He felt a small amount of pride at how easily the Khast word rolled off his tongue, but this wasn’t about him.
Adelaide huffed. “I’m a mage.”
“Hm.” He released her hand and stepped back. “I’m unconvinced.”
“I’m a mage.”
He forced his face to stay neutral. “Not feeling it.”
“This is ridiculous.” She planted her hands on her hips, her face reddening, but amusement sparked in her eyes.
At least the fear was gone, but he wasn’t looking for mirth. He was looking for confidence. Her confidence had taken a hit since losing her magic and the fiasco with Carrick. More than anything, he wanted to see her as confident as she had been when she told Carrick off before the tournament. As confident as she had been when she told him she was going to marry him.
“Make me believe it.”
“You know I’m a mage.”
“Are you? You say you are, you tell me your magic’s back, but—”
“It is! I’m a mage!” She held her hand out in front of her and her palm glowed blue. “I just healed you!”
He waved, pushing further. “You could do that yesterday. Show me what you are. Who are you, Adelaide?”
“I’m a mage! Reg—”
“Who. Are. You!” She stepped back, surprise at his harsh tone showing in her hurt expression. He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t relent. Just like Dresden never relented when Regulus had been mired in despair. “Are you a mage or aren’t you? Does your mother think you brave for nothing?” Her mouth fell open, but he pressed on. “Make me believe you’re a mage! Because I’m doubtful right now. Who are you? Are you—”
“I AM A MAGE!” Blue light exploded from Adelaide in every direction, bending the grass. The light reached Regulus and knocked him backward. He scrambled to his feet. Adelaide’s eyes glowed golden. She held her hands out to her sides, massive balls of flame hovering over her outstretched palms. “My name is Adelaide.” She didn’t shout, but her voice rang out across the meadow. “And I am a mage.”
“There she is.” He walked toward her. As intimidating as she looked, he had no reason to fear her. His wide smile pulled on his scar, but he couldn’t stop grinning. “Yes, you are.”
The fires over Adelaide’s hands shrank then disappeared and her eyes returned to their normal rich brown. “You...” She scowled as he stopped in front of her. “You scoundrel.” She pushed against his chest, but without much force.
“Whatever works, right?” Regulus laughed. “I thought, it works on the mercenaries...”
“Don’t you ever yell at me again.” She crossed her arms.
He ducked his head. “Sorry. Never again.”
Adelaide threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, despite her throwing knives digging into his chest. She leaned back and met his gaze. “All right, Sir I’ll-Help-You-Train. How exactly do you plan on doing that?”
“Oh.” Regulus stepped back and rubbed the back of his neck. He gave her a sheepish smile. “I was planning on attacking you.”
