He seemed to enjoy her praise more than usual as they walked.
“I think you could be one of the most powerful beings there ever was,” said Maeve quietly. “More than the High Lord of the Immortal Realm.”
Mal stopped walking and turned towards her. Maeve mirrored him. His face was calm and contemplative as he reached out and touched her face, running his thumb along her jawline. A large sigh rose and fell in her chest. She relished the feeling of his cold fingers on her flushed skin.
“Don’t just stand there, boy,” said an old wizard in the mural behind Maeve. “You know what to do.”
Maeve’s stomach dropped, and she felt her cheeks burn hot. She knew they were bright pink.
Mal dropped his hand, placed it back in his pocket, and gave the old wizard a reproachful look. They avoided one another’s gaze and continued down the corridor, pretending the previous moment hadn’t happened.
“Professor Sinclair will adore you,” Abraxas said to Mal on the horseback ride across the grounds to the gates of Vaukore. The Portal to London awaited them. Spinel and Julius, Abraxas’ silver cat, ran ahead of them, tumbling over one another.
Summer glistened across the wooded mountains that encased the island. The sun beamed down on them, casting golden light from clear blue skies. Mal’s sleeves were rolled back. Maeve found herself staring at his grip on the reins.
The veins in his arms.
“And I’ll be there with Mum and Dad for all the parties,” continued Abraxas. “You have warned him about the parties, haven’t you, Maeve?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, pulling her gaze from him. “He’s been warned.”
“I, for one, can’t wait for you to duel some of those preppy Orator officials,” said Hendrix Fawley with a grin, as he pulled up next to Maeve.
Mal looked like he had already had this thought.
“Alphard and The Mavrosi Family will be there too,” said Abraxas, with far too much mischief in his voice. Maeve reprimanded him with her eyes, but neither Mal nor Hendrix noticed.
Maeve explained to Mal days ago that after The Summer Solstice party long into the night and the next day, a handful of men gathered privately for cigars, maybe some Magical sporting games, and conversation. It was invitation only.
“Your Father allowed you to sit in on these meetings as a child?” Mal had asked.
“Oh no,” said Maeve. “I listened through the door. Some of the most important leaders in the world will be in that room. It’s your best opportunity to charm them.”
In London, they bid the others farewell and paid the train to send them to their destination.
Chapter 20
They arrived in Ragsling Village well past sundown. It was a small village with cobblestone streets and little pitched roof cottages. The main road that led them straight to town, a mile from the train stop, was lined with plain looking shops with hand painted CLOSED signs in their darkened windows.
She felt no Magic, not even a trace.
Ragsling Village was purely Human.
They moved into a narrow alleyway between two shops, heading for a flickering light ahead.
Maeve halted and strained her neck. Her hand reached back and grazed the nape of her neck.
“What?” Asked Mal in a hushed voice.
That uneasy and unwelcome feeling trickled down Maeve’s spine. Barely there. It had been a week since she felt it. She sighed, having hoped it was gone.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
Maeve didn’t look at him. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he replied. “What are you feeling?”
Maeve looked down the cobblestone alley. A cool breeze pushed around them, blowing a newspaper past that had been littered. She relented and finally admitted what she had kept from.
