Page 140 of Huntress

She’d caught snippets of the tale here and there, but she’d never heard the full story. If the tales were true, it meant the magic she was having trouble controlling now was practically nothing compared to the magic people had back then.

“The dragons were real,” Riven said. “Next time you meet a demon old enough to have been around back then, ask them about it.”

“How long ago was that?”

“I don’t have my dates memorized, but the dragons left before the fall of mankind, so it’s been three hundred years, at least.”

“Four hundred years, give or take a few,” Saint corrected her, ticking dates off on his fingers. “Mankind fell roughly three hundred years ago, the war that brought it about started three hundred and thirty years ago. The dragons shattered the dark moon four hundred years ago.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever fought a demon that old.” Elsie chewed her bottom lip.

“Not every demon gains strength with age. Most will wither and die, just like the humans, it just takes longer,” Saint said.

“Okay, but let’s loop back to how this helps with my magic problem? Did you learn enough about the dark moon magic to help me control it properly?” Elsie asked.

“I didn’t work with the dark moon for long. It’s too volatile for my taste. But while it’s uncommon among the hunters, there are plenty of mages with dark moon magic. I’ve learned a lot from them. As I said, you need seduction, not control.”

“How do I start? What does seducing my magic even look like?”

“You say it came when your fae awakened. Fae are sensual creatures. Focus on what that part of you feels like. What does she want? What excites her?” Riven asked, eyes bright with interest.

Elsie told her, and Riven smiled. “Hence the game, I get it. The thrill of the hunt. It makes sense with your personality. I’d say go ahead and play games with your demon. Give the magic what it wants as often as you can. The more you use the dark moon and learn of the more intricate sides of its spirit, the easier control will be, but you can’t force it.”

“That’s it?” Elsie’s brow furrowed.

“I’m sure the two of you can find other ways to please her. You have so much magic in you, it’s a pity you don’t use it. You’d be much more formidable.”

“Hunters are weird as hell with their power, her mentor uses booze and a flint tooth to ignite his fire magic,” Saint supplied.

“A lot of hunters have quirky ways of using their magic. They had to learn it on their own.” Elsie scowled, only wondering after the words were out of her mouth why she was defending Albright of all people.

“There’s always a choice. The hunters obviously don’t teach you, but what’s stopping you from learning? You have Perrie, and she’s helped your healer and sniper a lot. You’d be a total badass.”

“Time constraints, for one thing. We don’t get to sit still long enough to take lessons or practice. Sometimes I can go longer than a month without seeing Perrie, or even my own bed.” Elsie tinkered with a handful of sand. “Plus, my people look up to me, I can’t let them see my weaknesses.”

“I think it’s weaker to refuse to face your faults and overcome them. Think of it this way–would you rather have your people cheering you on while improving your weaknesses, or let them down, knowing you would have done better if you’d swallowed your pride and asked for help?” Riven questioned.

Elsie frowned, picking up a pebble to fidget with. “It’s not the only reason. If I make myself noticeable, he might find me.”

Riven poked her chin and pursed her lips. “Who?”

Elsie gave her the short version of her father’s ambitions, leading to questions about her mother. By the time Elsie stopped talking, the mage looked thunderstruck.

“Gods, no wonder.” She stared at Elsie’s seal. “I’ve never paid close attention, so I thought it was a tattoo! That must have burned like hellfire.”

Saint looked at her in surprise, and she could imagine the questions he’d have later.

“I still have nightmares about it sometimes,” Elsie agreed.

“Can I see it?”

Elsie pulled her shirt down, revealing the whole thing. The seal was huge, covering all sides of her neck, her throat, and her chest, dipping down between her cleavage. Runes wove through the swirling designs, artfully crafted to look like a single leaf.

“It’s gorgeous work. Your mother knows what she’s doing,” Riven said when she finished. “My suggestion? Learn how to use your magic anyway. At least learn the basics. He’s good at hiding how much magic he’s packing. He can teach you how, and I can help while I’m still here.”

Elsie looked at her sharply. Somehow her brain had forgotten that the mage wasn’t permanent.

“I do want to learn. It’s starting to feel pretty important.” She glanced over at Saint guiltily. “I’ve decided to take Cornick up on his offer.”