was tilted to the side, brows slightly furrowed. “But magical abilities are amplified with your parents joining. Your mother was one of the most powerful witches of our era, before she disappeared. I suppose you could still be talented, but with a human father, you would be limited.” She shook her head, eyes flickering over me with obvious sympathy.
I was immediately irked by it, but I stopped myself. If she felt sorry for me, that was a good thing. She believed me.
I shrugged. “I’ve never tested my magic, so I have no idea where on the scale I would be,” I said. “My mother never thought I was good enough.”
I added that because it was true, it was something I didn’t have to lie about.
She sat forward again. “Well, if we are to get you a job, or a place in our society, you will have to be tested and ranked,” she said.
I swallowed hard and tried to hide my discomfort. Alison never mentioned that. Did she happen to forget, or was this something new, something put into place after she had left the magic realm?
Or had she not told me on purpose? I didn’t want to make any assumptions, but my body tingled with warning. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to be tested or ranked. I needed to hide my true powers and that would be difficult to do already, without the threat of someone looming overhead, judging me. Nope, no way. I knew if I went through with this, my paternity was sure to come out and I couldn’t let that happen.
But I also couldn’t let Mallory know this. I didn’t understand why, but I didn’t trust her. If she wanted me to get tested, I would go along with it – as much as I could. I would have to think of some sort of plan to get out of it eventually, but I could buy time for now.
I plastered a smile on my face and beamed at Mallory. “That sounds amazing,” I said. The lie came easily from my mouth. I wondered if she had abilities that let her know of my lie. “Thank you.”
Mallory nodded and gestured to the breakfast platter. “You done?” she asked.
I brushed the crumbs off my hands and set the spoon in my porridge bowl. “Yes, thank you.”
Mallory waved her hand and the food disappeared, the table once again resembling the same pretty wooden table it had when I’d first seen it yesterday. It was impeccably clean, not a spot on it.
“Will you take me to the High Warlock today?” I asked innocently. I dropped my gaze to my jeans, picking at a piece of thread. I tried not to sound too excited, but I heard my throat catch when I used my father’s official title. Unfortunately for me, Mallory was too perceptive for that to go unnoticed.
“Why the interest in Matlock?” she asked. Gone was the sweetness. In its place was suspicion mixed in with curiosity. “Truly?”
I glanced down at my hands, searching for a good enough reason for my excitement. I should have thought about this better. I had gotten ahead of myself and I was paying the price now. I managed to yank the thread from my jeans, snapping it from the denim. I closed my fingers on it and reopened them, the thread having disappeared.
“Well... to be honest...” Shit! What was I going to say? “My mother used to tell us fairy tales about the High Warlock.”
I nearly smacked my forehead with how utterly stupid that sounded. Fairy tales? Really? I couldn’t come up with something better than fucking fairy tales? I was a hot mess. There was no way Mallory was going to believe this.
“What do you mean?” Mallory asked. She continued to sit before me. I almost wished she hadn’t cleared the table. Stuffing a pastry in my mouth would have bought me time to think. Or, at least, it would have given me an excuse to use my hands.
“My mother kept us isolated from everyone in our magical family, but she’d tell us stories of the magical realm, and the High Warlock,” I said. My words were quick, stumbling over themselves. I hoped she hadn’t noticed how nervous I sounded. I hoped she didn’t have that magic in her that could detect a lie. I didn’t want to give her an excuse to start questioning me so I kept talking. “He was our version of Prince Charming... I think. Look, I know it’s childish and my mother would have made up all the stories she told us, but I want to meet him. He embodies everything about my life that I’ve never known. Then I can move on, and hopefully find a way to live in a world I’ve been denied my whole life.”
“Your mother told you fairy tales involving the High Warlock?” If she knew he was my father, if she knew my mother had a history with him, I couldn’t tell.
Mallory nodded slowly. “I can kind of understand that,” she said, smoothing the wrinkles from the tablecloth with her hand. “Your mother probably never thought you’d come here.”
“Oh no.” I quickly shook my head, nearly pulling a muscle. “She always made us promise not to come here, but she never told us why. My sisters and I always thought it was because something bad happened to her here. A thwarted lover...” I laughed humorlessly, “I didn’t want to think it was worse than that, but since she never returned and barely talked about it, I wasn’t sure.”
Mallory quirked one eyebrow up and watched me like a hawk. I pressed my lips together. The urge to talk more bubbled up inside me, but I knew it would only make me look even more suspicious. I breathed through my nose, my nostrils flaring, trying to calm myself down. I wanted to reach up and stroke the locket, to get my strength from my mother, but I didn’t want Mallory to realize I was nervous – unless she already did.
“Let’s walk,” she finally said. She slowly stood up with the grace of a cat. “Come with me.”
We made our way down the winding staircase and out on to the street where the smell of maple leaves and blueberries clung to the air. Part of me wanted to refuse her. Why did this feel like she was leading me to my untimely demise? Was I just being dramatic? I didn’t know. Not when a witch was involved.
I took a deep breath, shoving the fear out of my body. The best thing I could do was to focus on the positives. If I was relaxed, Mallory would be less inclined to be suspicious. Instead, I allowed myself a moment to actually enjoy the delicious smell in the air. Warmth spread through my body and I felt at home.
“God, that smells good,” I murmured. I couldn’t even be sure if I was talking to myself or if I was talking to her.
Mallory sniffed once and wrinkled her nose, her lips pressed into a flat line. She flipped her unique hair over her shoulder, as though she was dismissing my comment entirely.
“That’s Victoria Swift,” she said. “She’s a baker a few blocks over. Dirty trick that one.”
I laughed, I couldn’t help it. Mallory was jealous that she hadn’t thought of using her magic to create an intoxicating aroma that would lead possible patrons right to her door first. That was obvious. I was realizing Mallory was easily jealous and had no problem showing it. Perhaps she’d felt envious of my mother for some reason?