:Wait for it…: Adelle’s sarcasm was ill-concealed.
Stella sighed and smiled sadly. “Sterling isn’t our matriarch’s only child, as we’d led everyone to believe. She also had another son, but we don’t talk about him. It hurts too much.” Stella allowed herself a delicate sniff before continuing. “Poor little Cymbeline, my sunshine boy. He was the prize of the family when he was a little boy, and I’m afraid we spoiled him terribly.
“He was such a charming child and so very beautiful. When he came into his magic, it was a blow to the whole family. It was wild and completely uncontrollable, and I’m sad to say it drove him mad, but we loved him. So, instead of sending him away or having him destroyed, we kept him safe here on the compound.”
Marshall was stunned into silence. Uncontrollable magic was rare and almost unheard of among the Other. In his one hundred and thirty-seven years of life, he’d heard of only one instance of a child being born with an uncontrollable gift. The poor creature hadn’t lasted long enough to be put down or locked away. Instead, the magic burned him until he was consumed.
Marshall understood now why he’d never heard of the boy. In magical society, the custom was to keep children close to the clan until their magic presented itself. If Cymbeline had been gifted with uncontrollable magic, his family had the option of taking responsibility for the matter.
Marshall didn’t like the custom, but it was legal, if archaic.
Adelle’s fury was burning at the edges of his mind, and Marshall knew he’d have to talk fast before she let it free to find its target.
He wasn’t worried as much about Adelle as he was about himself right then. The problem was going to be not letting his own temper get the better of him either.
The image of a different child, scared and helpless, flitted through his mind. For a brief moment, his vision edged with red. He leaned on his training and searched for a focal point to bring him into the present. He rubbed his hand against the side of his pants to feel the rough material against his skin to remind him where and when he was, but sad blue eyes kept bringing him into the past.
Marshall’s power, blue and brilliant, began to build inside him, looking for an outlet to focus its attention.
Right now, his power was so close to the surface that if he thought about an action or desire, it would act on it. If he didn’t get control soon this was going to go badly. Possibly worse than it had with Callum, and the Blaike family wasn’t likely to let a lapse of control go unanswered.
:I’m here, man. What do you need?: Jack’s star-flecked rainbow essence wrapped around Marshall, giving him the stability he needed to regain control.
His power sank back down grudgingly, willing to go back to sleep for the time being. :That was enough, thank you.: Now he was back in guardian mode and could make rational decisions again.
Unaware of how close she’d come to destruction, Stella continued her story. “Everything was fine for many years. We kept him from hurting anyone and provided him with every comfort imaginable. I assure you we did our duty to the Guard. No rules were broken.” Her last words came out in a rush.
:It sounds like she’s more worried about what we think about them keeping the boy alive, than what we think about them locking him up.: Adelle’s disgust was unmistakable.
:Careful, Addy,: Jack admonished, like he was worried Marshal would go nuclear if Adelle didn’t tread carefully.
His warning was unnecessary. With Jack’s calming influence, Marshall was firmly in control again and determined to see what could be done to fix this mess.
“So what happened?” Marshall’s voice was casual. If Stella thought he was on her side, he’d get further.
“The ungrateful brat just vanished on us! There was no warning, no reason as far as we could tell. One day his servant told us he wasn’t in his room anymore. Everyone on the estate has been on high alert for over a month. We’ve done everything we can to get him back, but you can see”—she patted her bandaged head gingerly—“he’s completely out of control. The last thing we wanted was to inconvenience the Guard, and we tried to fix this without you, but now that you are here, I have to admit we really could use your help.”
If Stella was hiding something, it was a smart ploy to act like their help was welcome rather than a hindrance. Guard law stated that no guardian could be denied entry to a clan’s estate, and all possible aid must be rendered. If any guardian felt like they were being blocked in carrying out their duty, they had free license to remove the obstacle in any manner they saw fit.
Emily, who had been fluttering behind them awkwardly, added, “Not that we feel like you should clean up our messes. I’m sure you have far more important things to do than this.”
“Go drink some tea, Emily,” Stella said firmly. “Of course we respect your time. No one here can question that, but this should be a simple matter for your team. Can you cut him off from the Source right here? Anything you need for the task is at your disposal.” Her brilliant smile was cold as ice.
Adelle’s fury burned at Marshall’s back with an intensity that distracted him from his own.
Marshall held out a hand to forestall his sister and said coldly, “That isn’t how we do things.”
Cutting an uncontained Other off from the Source was a death sentence. If the boy couldn’t control his power, it would turn on him as soon as it lost its connection to the Source and burn him to ash in seconds.
:If we had any doubt about this family before, here’s clear proof that something around here is rotten.: Jack’s mental voice was uncharacteristically grave.
“You would get no trouble from it on our end. You have my word on that. As Emily said, you have more important things to do, and dealing with complaints is the last thing you need.”
“What about Cymbeline’s companion? What would you have us do with him?” Adelle demanded.
Stella’s face went a shade whiter than usual, but she recovered herself quickly. “He’s just a norm caught in the crossfire. We can charm his memory so you won’t have to trouble yourselves with him.”
:She was hoping we didn’t know about the soldier.: Jack’s voice was thoughtful. :What’s the plan, boss?:
:Have you found anything useful?: Marshall wanted as much information as he could get before acting. With the power he wielded—both politically and magically—he had to make sure he was doing the right thing before acting.
:I found the room they were keeping the boy in. It was nice, but he was kept away from everyone. With the amount of magic the place had wrapped around it, you could contain a magical nuke in there. He must have been packing something big.:
:If he was completely out of control, we would have been brought in on this long before now. I don’t think Stella is being honest with us. Let’s see what she’s hiding.:
Marshall allowed his thoughts to drift away. He slowed his breath, and then he looked at Stella using the innate talent every dreamwalker had—the ability to sense the raw creative power of the universe. Without trying, he could pick up superficial bits and pieces of the world around him, but if he wanted to know more, he had to dig deeper.
Marshall saw nothing. He should have seen something on Stella. Ambient magic collected around everyone, and even norms had trace amounts of it clinging to them. A magic user should be covered with it. Stella would have had to scour herself down to the core minutes before their arrival to remove all of it. And since ambient magic was completely benign, the only reason for anyone to clean themselves so completely would be if they had something to hide.
Also, a complete magical cleanse was a better explanation for why her magic was so low—from the spells he’d seen her throw, Stella was too powerful for her magic to be wiped out this long after the fight.
:She’s been wiped clean. Jack, meet me out front. I’m ordering a full turnout, right now.:
:Copy that.:
Marshall stood up and took a step back from Stella’s bed. “Cymbeline is now under the jurisdiction of Fire. Stella, you are to order your family to stop looking for him immediately.”
Stella twisted her lips into a pretty pout. “I think that’s a bit much, Marshall. You’ll need us to help find him.”
