Fearless Magic (22 page)

“I need to figure out how to give another person's magic back. I mean I've tried before, but nothing has worked. I'm going to practice with Sebastian until I get my magic to cooperate,” I explained, proud of the idea and realizing the necessity for it.

“I remember what happened to Oscar though; you might end up killing him in the process....” Jericho mumbled. He wasn't trying to be rude, but the memory of Oscar flying across the steel barn back in Omaha was a painful one and not an action I would like to repeat on Avalon once we were face to face.

But Sebastian was a different story.

“You're not worried about killing him?” Jericho asked, almost amused.

“Actually, that might solve a couple of my problems!” I laughed, glad that Jericho and I worked things out. I was happy that we were on our way out of England and away from the prince, and satisfied that I found a solution to working on giving someone's magic back.

The night before had been the darkest moments of hopelessness. I had trembled, and cried and shrunken in fear. But now, in the clear light of day and with a new plan ahead of me, I could face this day, this mission, this fateful purpose of mine again with courage. I could be fearless again.

Chapter Twenty

“How are we getting to India?” I asked casually, emerging from my bedroom, showered, dressed and ready for another long flight.

The guys milled around the door, all ready to leave and waiting patiently on me. I didn't want to believe I was the fussy girl that took her time getting ready and made everyone wait. This whole trip had been a series of wet ponytails and only eye liner, but every time we were getting ready to leave I was the last one ready. I blamed my long hair and conditioner; I doubted any of these boys conditioned.

“Well, we were thinking....” Titus began, looking at Jericho for encouragement to continue. “We were thinking we could take Amory- I mean your jet. The Cessna Amory kept in storage here?”

“The what? What jet?” I asked, not understanding what Titus was talking about.

“Your grandfather kept a Cessna here, can we use it?” Titus said slowly, as if that would help me understand.

“Titus, I don't understand the words you are saying, what is a Ces.... what is that? And since when do I own a jet?” I finished, wishing there was
An Immortal's Guide to Posh Living and Civil Warfare
I could pick up at the nearest bookshop.

“It's a private jet that your grandfather owned and now we assume it belongs to you, and Titus wants to use it to get to.... wherever we are going,” Sebastian interrupted, clearly growing impatient with the banter.

“Oh, Ok, well then sure, we can use it.” The fact that I now owned a private jet was going to come in very handy, especially today.

“Yes!” Titus hollered, fist-bumping Gabriel who didn't really understand what he was doing. “Can I pilot?”

“Do you know how?” I asked, skeptically.

“Um, of course I do. Don't you?” He rolled his eyes at me, and then bounced through the door like a kid ready to open presents Christmas morning.

Gabriel pushed Sebastian through the door after Titus, shaking his head in amused awe.

“He can drive, can't he?” I asked Jericho while he locked up the flat.

“Yes, he can
fly
, but Avalon never let anyone fly the jets but him. I think he's excited for the opportunity to put his skills to use.” Jericho smiled dryly, mimicking Gabriel's headshake.

“Should I have said no?” I was suddenly nervous, I didn't know if I could take another plane ride like the one that got us over the Atlantic from Peru.

“And squash that spirit? Are you kidding me?” Jericho laughed again, which only made me more nervous. “Relax, he's a great pilot, I promise.”

Jericho dropped his arm across my shoulder playfully and we walked down the staircase together.

“Are you all right after last night?” he asked casually, not referring to any of the details of the failed mission specifically.

“No, not really,” I answered honestly, “but I will be.”

I looked up at Jericho, his spirited hazel eyes, twinkling with life and I felt safe. I loved Jericho; I had for a while. I didn't love him like I loved Kiran, but soon I would put that detestable emotion to death and move on. Once Kiran was out of the picture it would be easy to forget how he moved me, how he entranced my every thought and how my magic was bound to his so effortlessly. I just needed to put that love to death first, and then I could move on.

The drive to the isolated airstrip outside the city was quiet. Crammed together in the Mini Cooper, nobody wanted to breath, let alone make a sound; there just wasn't room for it.

I was disappointed to leave another foreign city without even visiting a single museum. London was worse than Paris, I didn't even lay eyes on a single landmark, or hardly notice the culture at all. Either we were holed up in our safe-house or working covert opts on an isolated ten acres of land housing a mansion that seemed more modern and unique than traditional and English.

The jet impressed with its luxurious esthetic that my grandfather provided. He always seemed elegant with expensive taste, but aside from the tweed suits he wore to school, I didn't know much about his style. Until my inheritance, I rather lacked any of my own.

So, with Amory gone and my new ownership of a fancy, private jet, I figured this would be a great place to start. I was a jet owner. A Cessna owner, whatever that meant. This would be my style.

I half wondered if I should be more worried about Titus, but he seemed to take off appropriately and once we were in the air, I didn't feel like the turbulence was out of the ordinary. I relaxed into my plush, leather chair and sighed. There was life outside of a miserably unsuccessful mission.

Titus and Gabriel closed the door to the cockpit and Jericho and I sat across the aisle from each other and across a table from Sebastian. Jericho's eyes drooped and his head rested against the back of his chair. I didn't know if he was entirely asleep, but he would be soon.

“So, I ran in to your sister last night,” I mentioned casually, gauging Sebastian's response. I still couldn't figure out if he had purposefully sent me in there with knowledge of his sister on the grounds, especially after my promise to him before anything actually happened to Avalon.

“Did you tell her I said, 'Hello?'” he mumbled darkly.

“Sebastian,” I commanded louder, demanding his attention. “Did you know she would be there?”

“Not for certain, but I knew there was a chance,” he admitted, playing idly with the hem of his shirt, he had yet to change from his birthday party. I made a silent note to myself that in India I would find him clean clothes.

“And you still thought it best for me to go? Do you remember the promise I made to you before Lucan took Avalon?” I asked, hardly believing that he would betray his little sister. Maybe that was the depth of his depravity; I couldn't be surprised by the Kendrick bloodline and their absolute disrespect for all things living, anymore.

“I remember,” he agreed.

“Then you knew there was a chance that I would not only strip Amelia of her magic, but also kill her?” I crossed my arms in defiant disbelief.

“I knew there was a chance, but did you? Did you take her magic and kill her?” he questioned casually.

“No, but I could have!” I insisted. “I mean, I was there to murder your cousin; Amelia would have just been a detail at the end of the night, a loose end to tie up.” I swallowed my guilt and revulsion, trying to hammer in my point.

“So, did you do that? Did you murder Kiran?” Sebastian asked, still an air of humor in his weak and whispery voice. His accent, crisp and British as Kiran's, but unlike Kiran, he got straight to the point and never tried to gloss over anything with flowery promises and pretty words.

“Well, no,” I admitted softly, walking right into the trap Sebastian set.

“So, Amelia wasn't in real danger then, was she?” His dead eyes found mine and he sat across from me accusing me of something I could not define. I saw his point, I heard his argument, but to risk his own sister's life was unfathomable to me, while I forced all my efforts and energy into saving my brother.

“You should make it easier for them to win,” Sebastian mumbled sarcastically.

“Do you know what? That's enough out of you.” I narrowed my eyes at him, not liking the tone of his voice.

“Whatever,” he sighed.

“No, don't do that,” I sat up straighter in my chair, commanding a discussion from Sebastian, I didn't care how tired he was. “What are you trying to say? Spit it out.”

“I'm just making the observation that you are not exactly playing this game on a level playing field. And if you want to win this war you've declared, you'd better step up and contend at the level your enemies are competing at,” Sebastian mimicked my narrowed eyes, silently daring me to disagree.

“Step up? Are you kidding me? I just broke into their fortress! Into the Prince's bedroom! There were like hundreds of Titans and I got out of there completely unharmed.” I sat forward in my chair, completely willing to arm wrestle my way to a win if I needed to.

“But instead of killing the Prince, you healed him and instead of finding out anything useful you gave them vital information about you and your damned healing smoke, so I'm not exactly sure what you intended to glean from your first espionage experience, but I don't think you won that altercation.” Sebastian looked out the window and I suppressed the urge to slap him.

“Did you know that would happen? Is that why you advised me to go? So I could heal your beloved cousin?” I swallowed the rage, the blind hatred that urged me to push Sebastian out of the airplane.

“How could I have known that you were capable of healing people?” He turned back to face me, the smallest spark of life, lighting his face.

“Fine, but all of your people believe that he was dying because of the detachment of our magics. So whether or not you knew I could heal him completely is irrelevant. Did you believe my magic alone would heal him? At least give him more time?” I asked directly, putting the pieces together.

“That was part of it, yes. I wanted him to have more time.” Sebastian looked down at the table, his chestnut hair, falling limply across his forehead.

“And what was the other part?” I asked carefully. I didn't know exactly what he would say, but still, a sweeping feeling of nausea washed over me at the anticipation of his words.

“Because he loves you.” He looked up at me again; he was strong-willed despite his weak state. “Eden, he has regretted that dreadful night since the moment it happened and I thought, that if you saw him, if you saw him.... dying that you would rethink this war of yours and sort things out peacefully.”

“Did you really think that was a possibility? That I would just walk into his bedroom, forget about my brother or my people, fall at his side all weepy and emotional and turn my back on this kingdom? That was your game plan?” I stared at him bewildered. How weak in love did he think I was?

“I had hoped,” he whispered.

“Please tell me that you have some semblance of loyalty for your family, that if Amelia was the one in prison, tortured daily and on the brink of death, that you would do everything in your power to save her! You have to love, at least her, enough to fight for her!” I accused and his dull eyes flashed with hatred.

“Of course, I would,” he snapped. “I would use any means necessary.”

“Exactly,” I agreed.

“Then use Kiran, for the love of God, don't you see that he is your means?” When I shook my head in disgust, he continued, “If you went to Kiran, if you fixed things with him, he would convince his father to release Avalon. If you and Kiran wed, then Kiran would share your magic, your children would have that connection and Lucan would be pacified. Avalon would be free.”

His argument sounded too inviting, he was giving me the exact words I longed to hear. Sebastian offered an easy way out, with my brother on one side and the man that I loved on the other. Only it would never be that simple. And my grandfather would never have vindication.

“That is a great scenario, Sebastian. Really, if I were to take your advice, everyone would get a happily ever after. Except of course, the rest of the Resistance rotting right along side Avalon in prison, or the Shape-shifters, or the Titans for that matter; your kingdom is still oppressed by racism and tyranny and everyone is still dying! Don't you see that this is more than Avalon, or even vengeance, this is about freedom. This is about restoring immortality to every Immortal.”

“You're a regular revolutionary,” he muttered, looking back at the window and refusing to meet my eye.

“Sebastian, I am only unique in my immortality because there is one of me, and my parents got a little bit lucky with their genealogy. But what I have, this power, this longevity of life, it could be available to this whole kingdom if Lucan would let it. If he would open up marriage and allow the Shape-shifters complete freedom, we could all live like this.” I argued, confidently.

“Lucan will never do that,” Sebastian promised and I believed him.

“And that is why his bloodline has to die,” I countered.