“You are definitely gaining a measure of control, if only millimeter by millimeter.” Astrid walked over to her, her gaze tracking the motion of dust in the air. “Perhaps tomorrow you can do sheets of layers and bring in a fan, so the Nullified dust doesn’t have the opportunity to behave so contagiously.”
“What do you mean by contagious?”
Astrid, the consummate trainer, drew herself up and folded her hands in front of her. Becka had come to infer this gesture as recognition of a worthy question. “Your magic permeates the matter it contacts. Even when the magic destroys an object, the particulates from that changed matter continue to exist and they persist in the Nulling momentum for a short period of time.”
“But I don’t understand why there’s even dust? If I’m Nullifying the magic, why isn’t it just gone?”
Nuisi cleared his throat before speaking. “Although these are illusions, there is a basic elemental framework weaving the matrices of ley lines together. Thus, dust, air, water vapor, even heat all form a basic net, if you will, upon which the magic lies.”
“Wow, that’s… amazing. Wait, are you even supposed to be telling me about illusionist mechanics?”
The boy blushed so deeply the flush reached all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. “Uh,” he stammered. “I apologize, Lady Astrid, for my lack of decorum.”
Astrid rolled her eyes and waved him off. “They are not used to me training anyone outside of the guild. You are a magical outlier and Rowan’s heir. I am not worried about you picking up an odd fact or two.”
Becka suppressed the smirk that threatened to spread across her face. Such a breach of protocol would have been unheard of before she returned to House Rowan, and Becka counted each shift away from rote custom a win. Bit by bit, the unusual circumstances of her return were shaking up the old order and protocols. They might not be able to forget her once-outcast status, but one by one the fae were accepting her for her differences even if they’d prefer she be like them.
Having her family accept her for herself was the first step. She was slowly gaining Astrid and Vott’s respect. Could she win over more of House Rowan? And how long would that take?
The re-heired Becka had two goals.
One, to regain whatever freedom both fae and human cultures would allow her. She needed to get back to her education. Her research. Dr. Traut had promised to hold her a position with his department at the Institute for a time. Although she suspected he wouldn’t be able to hold it forever, Becka wasn’t yet ready to give up on that option.
And two, she planned to find a way to bridge the gulf between human and fae. She’d yearned for this dream when she was an outcast and that focus had stayed with her. The shifters had found a way to live in relative peace alongside other races. Surely there was a path forward between the fae and humans besides this ongoing cold war?
To accomplish these goals, Becka needed to find a way to make it easier for other fae to follow in her unconventional footsteps. Then she wouldn’t be the only one crossing the boundaries and bridging the gap between fae and human cultures.
“Do you think my magic is more contagious than other forms of magic?” Becka asked Astrid, glossing over Astrid’s admission while simultaneously pushing for deeper information. She’d learned long ago to not react to false admissions and instead just accept them as the new norm.
Astrid’s frown shifted, her brows raised and expression curious as she studied the dusty remnants of the illusionists’ magic. “My observation says the intensity of your power does make the effect persist longer than usual, but I must confer with the testers. When’s the next time you meet with them?”
“I’m afraid I lost track of time, what with being unconscious,” Becka said, feeling unsteady on her feet. “They are bringing a cursed man into one of the meditation houses to test my powers. Hopefully I’ll be able to remove his curse.”
Astrid’s face lit up. “Oh yes, the Elder Langdon. I heard they had to take precautions to transport him here.” Astrid took another look at her, as if seeing her fresh again. “You should go and rest. I’ll let Maura know your powers appear intact.” Astrid’s attention turned to Nuisi and Grein, no doubt to give them directions for the next day’s training preparations.
Luce appeared at the door, sniffing the air and casting her gaze about in a wide net. Alighting on Becka, she nodded. “Are you done, Lady Becka?”
“Just a moment, Luce,” Becka replied. She slid on the sea silk gloves Vott had gifted her. “Same time tomorrow?” she asked Astrid.
“Indeed. We’ll try layered plates instead of orbs and see how that goes.”
Becka walked out of the building, feeling steadier on her feet than she had a right to. Saige was there too, concern creasing her brow.
“If you need,” Luce glanced at Becka, “I can carry you.”
“Heck no,” she replied. “Or at least, not until we’re out of sight. I don’t want to give the rumor mill more to gossip about.”
Somehow Becka made it back to her quarters under her own power while the anxious pair of shifters watched her every step. Stepping inside her room, her plan was to get into the shower as quickly as possible, which was why she was surprised to find Quinn’s familiar form standing before her.
“Lady Becka, I was hoping to have a few minutes of your time?”
Although it had been three months since she’d last seen him, she would have recognized Quinn’s rich baritone anywhere, despite the distance and formality in his tone. Heart leaping into her throat, she drank in his presence.
Becka looked him over, his simple but elegantly tailored shirt paired with the cargo pants he so loved, but now in black. He wore that sexy tactical jacket again, which was also in black. His short, stocky frame and cropped burnished-gold hair were the same as she’d remembered. Hands on his hips, his confidence and swagger were unshakable. Becka couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face, and she held in a breath as heat flared across her cheeks.
She wondered at the shift to black from the prior earth tones he’d favored. Had the enforcer’s uniform shifted, or was this a personal style choice?
He stood just inside her room, a notebook between his hands and his gaze trained on her. Fatigue strained his features and the look of concern on his face conveyed the depths of the situation at hand.
“Do I look that bad?” she asked, her voice croaking. She needed some water.
“I mean, you have looked better.” He smiled, but it was strained. Polite.
Distant.
Becka sighed, frustrated at the situation, which she knew as all her own doing. Despite her best efforts, she was still engaged to Alain. She also knew it might not be in her power to stop the impending nuptials; so far, all she’d been able to do was delay the inevitable.
Awkward didn’t even begin to describe the energy between them.
Chapter 5
“Luce, Saige,” Quinn said, “will you trust me alone with Becka for a short while?”
The shifters looked to Becka as one, and she nodded.
“Okay, but don’t wear her out with talking,” Luce replied. “She needs rest.”