I glanced at Corbin in surprise.He’s leaving Briarwood now? Where on earth is he going?
Arthur laughed. “Sure you are, mate. You wouldn’t even leave that library to go see your favorite band play down in Crooks Crossing. Why leave now, when we need you here?”
“I don’t want to go. But there’s a chance this might help.”
“I could go instead,” Arthur said. “You’d be much more use here.”
Corbin shook his head. “This is something only I can do.”
“Care to elaborate there, oh mysterious one?”
“No.” Corbin wiped a strand of dark hair out of his bloodshot eyes.
“I’ll come with you,” Rowan said.
Corbin shook his head. “No.”
“Yes.” Rowan’s voice was surprisingly firm. “Corbin, let me help.”
The air in the room cooled sharply.
No one spoke. I glanced between Corbin and Rowan. A voiceless conversation played between them, a battle of wills over a border I didn’t even understand. Wherever Corbin was going, Rowan knew, and he believed Corbin shouldn’t go alone. I’d never seen his body more rigid, his kind eyes moredetermined and fierce. There was no way Corbin would refuse that face.
But Corbin did. His shoulders squared, and he shook his head. “I need you in the library with the others. It’s probably a long shot, anyway.”
Rowan looked like he was ready to argue. Then the fire flickered out of his eyes and he sagged back against the couch. Flynn made a sound that might have been a sigh.
“Yo, Mussolini,” Blake piped up. “Isn’t Maeve actually supposed to be the high priestess of this coven? Shouldn’t she be the one barking out orders?”
“Weren’t you living in a hollowed-out tree?” Arthur shot back. “How do you even know who Mussolini is?”
“Oh, Daigh liked to regale us with tales of humans whose leadership skills he admired.” Blake lifted the top off the globe in the corner, grinning as he uncovered a bottle of whisky and a collection of crystal glasses hidden within. He uncapped the bottle, splashing a generous amount into the bottom of a glass.
“I was saving that for a special occasion,” Corbin said.
“What occasion is more special than this?” Blake slammed the glass on the desk in front of Corbin’s face. He went back to the globe and poured another for himself. “We’re celebrating the fact that by some miracle we’re all still alive, and now that Maeve knows how to harness her powers, this coven is welcoming a new leader.”
Corbin looked at me and on his face I read something. Corbin always expected me to choose him. To his mind, it made perfect sense for the good of the coven that he be mymagister –a priest who helped me to unleash my magic. My power and his knowledge would make the most sensible match.
I don’t think it had occurred to him until this moment that I hadn’t chosen anyone so far, and that I mightnotchoose him. If I didn’t, he wouldn’t be responsible anymore. And that thoughtterrified him. Corbin needed to take care of everyone. He didn’t know who he was without that responsibility.
And there was something more to it, too – that dark pain he was hiding behind his eyes.
No way could I take that away from him. And since the idea of choosing anyone for this magical sex partner role still freaked me out, that meant I needed to get out of this in any way I could.
I shook my head. “I can’t be a leader. I’ve only just started to understand this power. I don’t know anything about magic or rituals or casting circles, and I’ve never once got a broomstick to fly.”
“For a novice, you’re doing okay,” Flynn piped up. “You managed to transport the four of us into the fae realm and bring us back. It was your magic that destroyed the fae and helped us place the ward around the gateway. And those dreams you gave all of us were certainly powerful. The broomstick thing comes with time, although I personally prefer a hoover. Blake, is that whiskey Irish?”
Blake held up the bottle. “It says ‘Finest Scotch Whisky’.”
“Mother Mary, that’s a right tragedy.” Flynn slumped back on the couch. “Maeve, in your first order of business as leader, you should declare that all whiskey in this castle must be of the finest Irish variety.”
“I’m not the leader. I’m not qualified. You don’t just make me the leader because some holy old book says so.”
“Blake is right,” Corbin said slowly, his mouth twisting. I stared at him, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Maeve is our High Priestess. It’s her role to lead the coven, not mine. So ignore everything I said. Maeve, what’s our next step?”
Dammit, Corbin. You’re not supposed to agree with him!
