Curse of the Celts by Clara O'Connor (most romantic novels .TXT) 📕

may hopefully be forgiven, I am not loved. He has no reason to suspect you are more than you appear: just Marcus’s betrothed, with some latent talent.”

“I see.” Although I wasn’t sure that I did. I thought once we made it out of the city, we would be safe – or at least once we had traversed the nightmare that was the borderlands. We had left the Empire behind and we were deep in Briton territory, yet we still weren’t safe. I felt betrayed somehow. Devyn had promised that we would be.

Actually, I realised, he hadn’t.

Devyn had never promised anything except that I didn’t belong in the city and that we shouldn’t be together. Two truths that I still struggled to accept, and both of which denied me the home I so desperately sought. Now it seemed he was telling me we were still far from securing refuge.

Without speaking another word or even looking at Devyn, I left the room.

Over dinner we told Callum about our escape from the tower along the river, about the death of Marcus’s father and the terrifying journey through the woods, give or take some details.

He stopped us when it came to the hounds, his raised eyebrow aimed at Devyn during my stumbling explanation of how we chased off the hounds first with guns and then, less coherently, a second time.

“They chased off the hounds twice, eh?” He spoke directly to his former pupil. “You think I’ve lost what wits I had in the years since we last met? I know a burnout when I see one. Yon Plantagenet lad doesn’t look like he’d have been much help; from the look of him he still ain’t up to much. You telling me you and this pretty chit fought ’em off with a stick? Comes to mind that despite the boy burnt out like he was, they was still awful interested in a couple of city kids.”

Devyn remained tight-lipped.

“What difference would Marcus being burnt out make?” I asked.

Again, Devyn said nothing.

The professor slashed him an irritated look before explaining. “They’re hungry, but not in the way you might think. They don’t go after most people, even on Samhain. With him being drained of magic, there was no reason for them to come for you.”

“Cassandra has magic,” Devyn said, shrugging in answer to the surprised question in my eyes. He had said that perhaps Callum could help me; it looked like he had decided to trust him. “There have been a small number of cases in the city of people displaying magic. The illness outs them. People like my mother, who were already in danger of being discovered before the sickness, displaying symptoms puts an even bigger target on their backs. I’ve helped a few of them out of the city before now. The Mallacht is now taking down latents as well, and there’s a lot more of them.”

“So I’ve heard. That girl you sent over this summer caused quite the stir.” The large man grunted before surveying me again with a little more interest. “How much you got, girl?”

“I don’t know. I was blocked for years. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” I shrugged. “Sometimes when I’m distracted my consciousness can float away. Other times when I’m angry or afraid the elements respond.”

“You were able to do something in the borderlands?” Callum asked.

I paused, recalling the strange, distorted energy that had come to me as the hound stalked ever closer.

“It wouldn’t come at first; there wasn’t anything there. I thought maybe the drug I was given in the city might still be blocking me. Then when it came it felt different to how I’ve felt before.” I tried to answer as best I could, inner caution preventing me from giving him too much detail. “The borderlands, Samhain… Devyn said it makes magic unstable…”

Callum nodded, but his frown indicated he was dissatisfied with my answer.

“You were right on top of the May ley line; it has been corrupted by the wars,” he explained. “It was stable for you? You could control it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know that I’ve ever really controlled it. I don’t usually intend to use magic… It just happens.” I drew a shuddering breath to try and ease the tightness in my chest and looked to Devyn to help explain.

Callum watched me look to Devyn for answers, and his frown deepened.

“You did well to summon anything in the borderlands, but it sounds like you’ve been lucky so far,” he observed. “Do you know what it is to properly summon magic?”

I sat still in my chair, my fork halfway to my mouth. Thinking back, I wasn’t sure I had ever formally summoned magic. It had just happened somehow, either when I wasn’t focused or when I was all too focused on an imminent threat. The only time I did anything on purpose was asking Otho for help, but was that me wielding magic or the ash providing the aid sought? I had never stopped to think about how to call the magic to me; it just was. I dropped my fork back onto my plate, my appetite for the delicious pie disappearing. I had no control over the force that flowed through me; it came and went at its own whim, and it could not be relied upon, like everything else in my life. What if the next time my luck ran out?

“You’ll stay a while. Your friend needs to gather his strength before you go anywhere. I’ll teach you some of the basics. See if we can’t get you started a little better,” Callum decreed, though he waited for Devyn’s nod before flashing his trademark grin, his white teeth flashing in the candlelight.

“The hounds of Samhain. It’s a long time since anyone has reported seeing them. They’re attracted by the scent of power, a power that has run ever thinner. There’s not much that tempts them out on a hunt these days. What were you doing in the woods last night that