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“You’ve never told me about fae powers,” Finley said, finally taking another sip of her bourbon. “Not comprehensively, anyway.”

“Working backward, the lowest class of the Light Fae have strength, immortality, and the ability to glamour. Those were the original three powers they were bestowed when their ancestors fell from the heavens. That’s pretty much the same with the Dark Fae as well, but they were locked away in the Underworld, so far less is known about them.”

Finley frowned. “But I remember Zaid saying some stones made their way there, and some Dark Fae developed powers.”

“That’s true, but not our worry right now,” Carrick admonished before continuing. “The royal nobles and the gentry have strength, immortality, and glamour as well as the ability to heal and alter reality.”

“Alter reality?”

“Use their magic to conjure things, or bend distances to travel more quickly. The original royals, however—”

“Wait,” Finley exclaimed, holding up a hand to interrupt. “What do you mean bend distances? And they can conjure anything? Like if they were thirsty and wanted a cup of water, they could just conjure it? Oh, and can they fly… you know… since they used to be angels?”

Carrick patiently waited until she blurted all her questions, then asked her not to interrupt again. He promised to tell her all, so he did, settling in to give her as much information as possible that would keep her aware and safe.

He explained bending distances was like pulling two faraway places close together, so you could step from one to the other in the blink of an eye. Finley wanted to argue that was teleporting, but he shut that down quickly. Carrick also explained that conjuring depended on the individual strength, which often had to do with how old the fae was, since powers seemed to get stronger over time, or whether they were gifted extra powers by the queen.

But there were limitations. For example, a noble or gentry couldn’t just conjure up a twenty-thousand-square-foot castle because he was sick of his fifteen-thousand-square-foot one.

The nobles and gentry also had immense healing power, but it rarely came into use since they were essentially immortal and would heal from almost any wound. The Light Fae normally employed those gifts on animals, young children, or perhaps the lucky human who might need it. Carrick had offered Finley a healer once when she’d hurt her shoulder learning to use the whip, but she’d declined.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what the royals’ powers are?” Finley muttered.

“Pretty much everything I already described to you but far more powerful,” Carrick replied with a smile. “An original royal—that would be the queen, king, prince, and princess—could indeed conjure up a new castle if they wanted one, but more importantly, the one thing they can do that no other Light Fae can is kill another Light or Dark Fae without the use of iron.”

Finley’s jaw dropped at this news, then understanding dawned in her expression. “No wonder they are in absolute power.”

“And the most dangerous of all,” Carrick added.

“So we have to go see the royals, huh?”

Carrick didn’t hide his displeasure at the idea. He didn’t like dealing with any creature that held themselves out as superior, and the Light Fae royals were among the biggest egos in the universe. “Unfortunately, yes. Custom and protocol dictate it.”

“We just knock on the castle door and say hello?” she asked, hope sparkling in her eyes. She clearly didn’t want to tangle with the Light Fae and for that, Carrick was grateful. He hoped she had taken his information and processed it for her betterment. Last thing he needed was her to go rogue while in Faere. He was positive if that occurred, he’d be scraping up bits and pieces of her to bring back to Rainey and Myles.

“We might have to do a little more than say hello,” Carrick explained to Finley. “Most likely stay for at least a meal.”

“And then?” she pressed.

“And then, we find The Scryer. Hopefully, he or she will have some helpful information for us that can help us with the prophecy.”

“Do we know where to look for this scryer?”

Carrick’s lips pressed flat as he had to admit, “Sadly, no. Which is why our visit to the royals is important, as I’m hoping they’ll give us some guidance.”

Lifting his drink to his mouth, Carrick tipped it back and swallowed the last of it. He set the empty glass on the table and once again leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees to bring himself closer to Finley.

His eyes lasered onto hers, and he asked the question that needed to be asked, although he thought he might know the answer. “What happened when you saw Fallon today?”

The vibrant colors in Finley’s eyes dulled instantly. The gold muddied, the blue went gray, and the green churned to the color of pond scum.


Tags: Sawyer Bennett Chronicles of the Stone Veil Fantasy