I didn’t care if the word was ‘scholarship’ or not. The word ‘cult’ had wormed its way into my head. Curiosity turned into obsession as it forced me to take a second look at my life.
Story after story spilled from books, both from BT and AT. It didn’t seem to matter if the world was full of technology or magic. Charismatic people were able to gather the vulnerable and use them to create their kingdom.
Quinn was so damn vulnerable with those big eyes and that clueless smile. She didn’t know a thing, and this family was hauling her around like they owned her.
A shiver ran down my spine.
She should be sitting at my side, but instead she was avoiding us, all of us. Well, I didn’t really care about her other friends, just me. The drive to see her and make sure she was safe burned in my chest. She was all I had. What if I misread this situation? The Architect’s family was the only other family I’d seen. What if this were no different from where I came from?
A cult. Run by my Prophet. And I still belonged to him.
My heart raced. There, I admitted it. I’d been in a cult. My Prophet controlled everything… I was one of his sons… I was…
In a blink, the library filled with blinding light. Rainbows shimmered in every corner.
Quinn.
This had to be my girl. I stood, my personal panic forgotten. The book in my lap dropped to the floor. Her favorite section was theories on magic, and I hurried through the tightly packed stacks and little rooms, only to find it empty.
The light above us dimmed to a more normal level, but the little rainbows still danced.
Maybe I was wrong. Nothing we’d done or found helped her magic. I frowned and shoved my hands into my pockets. Slowly, I took a different path back toward my chosen spot, listening for her voice andhoping to see a hint of her red hair. The library wasn’t massive, but it was a maze of shelving, alcoves, and doorless rooms.
“Very good,” a male voice drifted from my left. “But you are still brimming with magic, and the library’s a bad place to practice.”
“I think I need to go through this box as well.” Quinn’s voice was unmistakable, and I slowed. “That was still a massive burst that I didn’t have much control over. What if something else works better?”
“That sounds like a good plan,” the man answered.
That wasn’t Rowan’s voice. This was someone I didn’t know, and he’d helped her use magic for the first time. Jealousy twisted my stomach. I’d been at her side since day one. We’d spent hours experimenting.
“I don’t know.” I could picture Quinn’s adorable eyebrow furrowing. “I was very sick when my dad gave it to me, and to be honest, I didn’t believe my pocket-void was real. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Why didn’t you think it was real?” the man asked.
I had the same question.
“Because magic isn’t real,” Quinn said. “I mean, it wasn’t.”
My heart stilled.It wasn’t.Quinn was so dense, yet sometimes brilliant. We never talked about who we were before we ended up here. We never even talked about why we ended up here—my daughter. Quinn knew. She’d left me multiple opportunities to share more, but I always ignored them. And now she talked openly to someone new.
Jealousy turned my vision green.
“Quinn, you can trust me,” the man said. “Your past is in the past. It won’t change your future.”
I couldn’t see Quinn, but I assumed she nodded. The sound of her gathering something and standing drifted.
“Do I need to turn the lights off or something?” Quinn asked.
“No. That much magic will power them for days. You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”
Quinn giggled. “Apparently not.”
Footsteps sounded, and I followed them. Quinn and a tall man with baby-blue hair walked ahead of me, disappearing into the stacks. Dark clothing covered both of them as if they’d purposely coordinated. Quinn held something in her arms, and she led the man toward the exit.
“Breakfast tomorrow?” the man asked as they approached the door.
Quinn paused. “I think figuring out my magic is more important, and I already have a friend helping me.”
