Because she’d just inherited her true source—the staff. “Where did you find this, Zen?” I asked, using her preferred name only because I wanted her to give me a real answer, not a riddle.
“It’s the royal staff,” Kolstov whispered, awe in his tone.
I glanced at him, having never heard of such a thing. “Royal staff?”
“A relic.” He admired the electricity swirling around the circle at the top. “It was rumored to have been stolen and destroyed by the Quandary Bloods.”
Zenaida snorted. “Not stolen or destroyed, but rightfully mine as the Midnight Fae Queen. However, that cloak around Aflora’s shoulders is a sign from the Dark Source. The staff has chosen a new owner. Which is why she could see it when the rest of you couldn’t. Set it back down, Aflora, and show them.”
Aflora bent to lay it on the table, and sure enough, the magical conduit disappeared.
However, the energy lingered behind it, my Source Architect power allowing me to identify the general makeup of the staff without actually seeing it. Sort of like looking into an electrical field and sensing the magnetic pulses, but being unable to identify the unique layers themselves.
“That’s fascinating,” I said, impressed. “Who created it?”
“Who creates wands?” she countered.
A fair retort to a stupid question on my part. “The Source.” Of course. Just like the Dark Source had created the cloak around Aflora’s shoulders and the choker at her throat holding it on her.
The clothes beneath the cloak were magical as well, but I suspected those were born of necessity for propriety more than the Dark Source gifting her magic. She would have been naked when she’d shadowed to the Village. Just as I’d been naked when I started running toward the meadow earlier to find her.
A quick spell had gifted me a button-down shirt, pants, and proper shoes.
Zephyrus wore a matching outfit.
Kolstov and Shade were just in their sleep bottoms and T-shirts.
What an interesting pack we made, our magic all unevenly matched and yet complementary to each other.
I lifted my ankle to rest it on my opposite knee, my focus on Zenaida. “What else did you and Lucifer negotiate?” I asked her, changing the topic away from the staff because I knew that wasn’t the only reason she wanted us here.
Zenaida adored her words games.
And I was a master at solving riddles.
Her blue eyes gleamed with amusement, pleased to have had her game spoiled. Of course, we both knew I’d been aware from the beginning that she was hiding something from us.
I just gave her time to play hostess, indulged in breakfast—which was thankfully not poisoned; something I’d verified with magic before taking a bite—and allowed her to give Aflora the staff because I assumed it would be beneficial for her next trial.
“Your father has requested entry,” Zenaida said softly. “I negotiated it and the request has been granted.”
“Unity trial,” I replied, looking at Kolstov and then Aflora before refocusing on Zenaida. “How long do we have to prepare?”
The Fortune Fae Omega blinked. “Not long.”
Meaning, he was already on his way here. “Is he at the gates yet?” I asked casually, already mentally considering our options.
“Yes,” Aflora replied, reaching for the staff, power rippling around her. “I can feel them.” Her blue eyes met mine. “He’s brought several Quandary Bloods with him.”
“That’s quite the negotiation, Zenaida,” I muttered, glancing at the seer. “I assume you failed to give us notice for a reason?”
“There are no other paths, Zakkai. We were always destined to meet again. And Aflora deserved the break, regardless of how fleeting it could be.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “So now the sides will either join forces or…”
“Destroy each other,” I finished for her. “Thank you for the meal.” That’d been her version of helping us rejuvenate before Aflora’s next trial. My poor mate wasn’t even being given days to recover, just hours. But now that the source had marked her with the cloak, it would want to accelerate her ascension—something Constantine had assured would happen with his antics today.
The Elder had out-strategized me again.
My jaw ticked at the knowledge, my veins flooding with anticipation. “Time to go.”