The Goblets Immortal by Beth Overmyer (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

her mind. She emptied the leaves back into her tobacco pouch and put away her pipe. “No, I need a clear head for this. Iron and magic, magic and iron. Each repels the other, for magic is pure, and iron is polluted. The two cannot mix for this reason. But wizard’s blood – why, it’s the purest. Still, ’tis very unruly and unmanageable for even one that is Blest. Unless, he…. Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself.” She shuddered and licked her chapped lips before continuing.

“Now, Cedric had the uncanny ability to succeed at anything he set his mind to. That was his Gift, which he imbued the Questing Goblet with. Whoever so drinks of that Goblet takes into himself Cedric’s ability…that is, until the affected liquid runs out of their system.”

“Which means that people like me should not exist.”

The woman shook her head and wagged her finger with a small smile on her face. “You take for granted, Mr. Aidan, your mother.”

Aidan’s fists clenched in his lap. She had claimed before that she knew how to find his family, wherever they’d disappeared to. That is, she’d mentioned the fact right before betraying him. His tone was clipped when he asked, “What about my mother?”

The seer sighed, exasperated apparently. “She’s the reason you can do what you can do. My mother’s the reason I can do what I can do. Aidan, your mother was part of the Circle, as was mine.”

Aidan held up a hand. He wanted to hear more, but there was yet another Pull at the door, this time with three others behind it.

“It’s only the servants,” the seer said as Aidan Summoned the silver blade into his hand. “You’re going to frighten them to death if you don’t put that away.”

There was a knock on the door, followed by, “Dinner is served!” Only then did Aidan Dismiss his blade and took his seat once more.

The seer clucked her tongue at him. “So suspicious. No one could buy your trust.”

“They could…with my blood. All of it,” he said, throwing her previous threat back at her.

That brought some color into the seer’s cheeks, but she said nothing.

“Good, I’m half-starved.” Whatever Slaíne thought of the conversation, she didn’t let on, but hopped to her feet and offended the servants by trying to help.

“We’ve got it,” one of the men said as she tried to take a heavy, hot platter from him.

Aidan rolled his eyes and fought annoyance. “Slaíne, take a rest for once. You’ve earned it.”

The girl gave him a funny look, but then plopped back down in the chair and stared at her fingernails. “They’ve got it, my hide.”

As if to prove her right, one of the servants bumbled and dropped a tureen of peas and butter onto the floor. The young man swore and colored all unpleasant shades of pink and white. “Master’s going to see me hanged.”

“Leave it,” the seer said as the servant got to his hands and knees and started scooping the ruined peas back into their dish.

The man scrambled to his feet and scarpered right out the door, followed by the other three, who took a more leisurely pace. “Call if you need anything more,” said the last and snootiest of the four.

The seer made an obscene gesture and muttered a warning at him before the man slammed the door. The words she had spoken before the meal’s arrival still hung in the air, but the woman paid them no mind as she grabbed the roast pheasant plate with indecent enthusiasm. “Goodness me, I haven’t tasted fresh game since four and twenty fortnights past.”

Slaíne regarded the food, then Aidan, as if asking for permission to be hungry. When he didn’t respond, the girl plopped three generous dollops of potato hash onto her plate, then half a loaf of bread, before snatching Aidan’s clean plate and filling it with food as well. She waited then, looking at him expectantly.

So caught up in the conversation, he’d all but forgotten his warning to Slaíne not to eat ’til he’d explored the food for nefarious Pulls. He took a moment, closed his eyes, and concentrated. There might be some dirt in the potatoes, so he Dismissed that. A bit of something he did not recognize in the pheasant and the carrots, so he Dismissed that element as well. And, just to be certain he hadn’t missed anything, Aidan went through the drinks and food stuffs on the table again.

The seer snorted. “What are you expecting to find? I’ve been here with you the whole time, and one of you’s always been watching me.”

“Better safe,” Aidan said, “than dead.”

She gave him a bemused look, and attacked the roast pheasant with her bare hands.

Aidan grimaced. “It’s safe.”

The woman snorted, spraying the table with partially masticated food. “Of course it’s safe.”

Slaíne nodded and dug into the food as well.

Aidan wished to join them; he knew he needed the nourishment. But that witch-of-a-woman might as well have dropped a stone into his stomach. What of his mother? What Circle? His shoulder pained him again the more he thought, though he strove to pay the cold twinges no mind.

“Don’t mind if I do,” the seer said, taking the bowl of potatoes from Slaíne.

How could he trust anything that came out of that woman’s mouth? There seemed no point in asking her to explain herself. Yet…what if there were some truth in her words? Aidan could stand it no more. “How did you know my mother?”

Slaíne dropped her fork, and the room was filled with its merry ringing as it hit her tin plate. Aidan didn’t need to look at her to know that her eyes were cast down on her lap.

The seer’s reaction was to laugh. “Sir, I never knew your mother.”

“You just said—”

“I said that our mothers were in the Circle. Had to have been. They’re the ones what killed the wizards and kept their Goblets. Really, milord, do keep up with the conversation.” She gave him a moment, smiling as if