Page 42 of The Mage and His Stolen Prince
Fitz was easier. Images popped into my mind one after another: nimble fingers constantly fidgeting with his glasses; excited questions coming one after another as he researched a new topic; tawny hair threatening my tea. The second thread of magic was thick with memories and the gears eagerly took it, incorporating him into the spell.
The last was Maximus, and there I hesitated. Suspicion and hostility shadowed the memories of him, turning him into a towering monster. A meaty hand squeezing mine until my bones creaked. Hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion and acid in his voice every time he deigned to speak to me. I never learned whether the root of his hatred came from his instincts warning him I was evil, or his jealousy over my relationship with Trey.
I could leave Maximus out of the spell. Delilah would never know, not unless something happened to him, and by then I would have already earned her cooperation.
But Treasure had risked his life to saveallof them. If Maximus was in danger, Trey was in danger. So I gathered up the last thread and carefully wove it into the spell.
More clockwork appeared with new faces, new moments, new possibilities. Even with magic, the future wasn’t certain, but the spell would keep us moving in the correct direction. Anything that didn’t fit—mortal wounds and broken hearts—would turn the gears backwards, reset the clock, and allow us the opportunity to find a better path.
The spell imagery faded and the room pulsed black.Fuck, I overdid it.I breathed through the dizziness, waiting for the magic to settle.
Beside me, Delilah remained quiet, unaware that I’d finished.
When my vision cleared and I was confident my voice wouldn’t tremble, I told her, “It’s done.”
She patted me on the head and chirped, “Good boy.”
I smacked her hand away. Did Trey feel condescended to when I said that to him? No, there’d always been a soft flush to his cheeks, a certainlooseness to his limbs as if he would curl up in my lap and let me pet him for hours. “I’m evil. Good does not, and never will, apply to me.”
Delilah made a noise halfway between a hum and a purr. “Well, you’re going to have to pretend to be good for this quest. No evil acts, no evil magics, and noevil looks. You’ll behave properly, or I will turn the carriage around and drag you right back to this evil lair, young man.”
“You’re not the one driving.” I frowned as I realized the direction of our argument. “We’re not driving at all, we’re teleporting!”
Laughter bubbled past her lips, and she hugged my arm, leaning her head against my shoulder. “You’re so weird, Wilde.”
I ignored her. There was nothing else to discuss, so I wrapped my arm around her waist and said, “Hold on.”
And we teleported to the capital city of Misfortune.
Right into the path of a carriage.
Delilah screamed. The coachman’s eyes widened, knowing he couldn’t slow the horses in time.
I teleported us to the sidewalk a few feet away. The moment we landed, my knees gave out from under me. Delilah tried to hold me up, yelling my name as I slipped from her arms. Although she couldn’t stop my descent, she slowed it, so when I plopped onto the ground, I only bruised my ass a little.
“I’m fine,” I panted. When I tried to wave away her worries, I misjudged where she was standing and accidentally smacked her arm.
She stopped shouting immediately to snap, “You don’t have to hit me!”
“Delilah?” The first time someone said her name, it was full of confusion and wonder.
“Delilah!” The second time it was a roar of a wild beast protecting its young. The speaker descended from their carriage, helmet on, sword at the ready as they charged through the street toward Delilah.
“Kit!” Delilah declared, opening her arms for a hug.
The person swept Delilah up in one arm, spun her around, then set her down again behind them in a smooth, protective motion. The sword point went to my throat. I tried to raise a hand to push it away but missed a second time, my hand swimming uselessly through the air.If the world would stand still for a moment …
“Kit, it’s fine, he wasn’t hurting me!”
“He kidnapped you—”
“I wasnotkidnapped! Didn’t you get my note?”
Someone crouched next to me. From the corner of my eye, I saw red hair. I grabbed onto Trey’s sleeve, holding tightly.
“What’s going on?” Trey asked. “Why’d you suddenly appear in the middle of the road?”
The voice should have been right next to my ear. Instead, it came from several feet away.
