“The two of you worked well together,” I said quietly. Piaras and I weren’t the only elves in the room. Some of the watchers were, too. Elven ears did more than just look good.
Talon shrugged. Piaras didn’t say a word.
“You’ve been reading new spellsongs again, haven’t you?” I asked Piaras.
His hesitation told me everything I needed to know.
“A few,” he admitted.
I swore silently.
Piaras wanted to be a Guardian more than anything and was studying with Maestro Ronan Cayle, a legend among spellsinging masters. When Tam and I had joined forces to save those six lives last week, Piaras had destroyed some nasty magical beasties before they could destroy us. He’d used a spellsong that was damned near suicidal for someone of his age and inexperience to attempt. He’d seen it once in a spellsong book, read it, and had instantly memorized it. He’d gambled and won-that time. Today he’d gambled again, and if Tam and I hadn’t been able to take that demon from him, this time he would have lost.
I took a breath and silently counted backward from ten. It took all the way to one before I could trust myself to talk without yelling. “That was quite a risk the two of you took.” My voice came out amazingly calm. If I hadn’t been so tired, I would have been impressed.
I saw Piaras’s jaw clench under a faint shadow of stubble. Jeez, the kid had stubble; when had that happened?
“Would you have had us do nothing?” His voice was tight.
“No, I would not have had you do nothing.” I took another breath and let it out slowly. I’d better say what I needed to say quickly, because calm and I were about to part ways. “That’s not what I mean-at least not entirely. You acted when no one else would and stood your ground when everyone ran. Both of you were very brave.” I paused and resisted the urge to grit my teeth. “You also had no idea what you were latching on to, but you grabbed it anyway, and neither one of you were trained to handle it.”
Piaras drew breath to retort, and I quickly held up my hand. “I’m not saying what you did was wrong. You have the skill, but not the experience. It would-”
Talon interrupted. “It would have been better if we’d just sat there, while that thing mauled its way around the Quad?”
I turned on him. My calm was officially gone. I held my thumb and forefinger a hairbreadth apart in front of Talon’s face. “The two of you came this close to getting torn to shreds! Your father just found you, and he doesn’t want to lose you. Do you have any idea what he has been through to protect you since you got here?”
The normally cocky Talon looked taken aback. You’d think I’d slapped him. A couple of the watchers were suddenly interested in our conversation. I glared at them until they found something else to do.
“No.” Talon’s voice was subdued, but only slightly. Teenage defiance still seethed beneath the surface. “He didn’t tell me.”
I leaned back in my chair, blew out my breath, and closed my eyes. “And he probably won’t.” Tired had surrendered to exhausted. “He wouldn’t want you to worry. Because he loves you.”
When Talon didn’t respond, I opened one eye and looked at him. “He hasn’t told you that, either, has he?” I asked wearily.
“Not exactly.”
My elbow was resting on the chair arm, and I dropped my head onto my upraised hand. I snorted. “Not exactly.” I shook my head. “Men.” I didn’t lift my head off my hand; it felt too good to be resting on something. I turned it about an inch and I could see Piaras just fine.
His face was a shade or two short of a full, blazing blush. “I know you do.” His words tumbled out in a rush. “You don’t have to tell me.”
I grinned slowly. “What? You don’t want me saying the ‘L’ word in public?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” He looked around uncomfortably.
“At least not here.”
I sat back and crossed my arms. “Okay then, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me where and how you picked up what you did in the Quad, and I won’t yell ‘I love you!’ and plant a big, wet, sloppy kiss on your forehead in front of half the watchers on Mid.”
“I told you; I read it in a spellsong book.”
“Does Ronan Cayle know about your extracurricular reading?”
Piaras hesitated, then in the span of two seconds, he winced, grimaced, and looked queasy, as though what he was about to tell me was the last thing he wanted to say.
“Yes, he does. It was part of a lesson.”
I blinked. “What?” My voice was quiet, the kind of quiet that said Ronan better be glad he wasn’t in the room with me right now.
Piaras turned to face me and lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “Raine, I may be the age of a first-year student, but I’ve long known what they’re just now learning. Maestro Cayle did some testing with me to determine what level of study I should start at-”
Now I was the one who felt queasy. “And what I saw today was it.”
Piaras nodded. “I’ve been working on a confinement spellsong for the past two days in class. One of the things it works on is demons.”
“And after only two lessons you used it today.”
“When I saw that thing fly into the Quad, I had to do something.”
I froze. “Wait, you saw it fly in? It didn’t materialize until it snatched up Katelyn.”
Piaras’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I could see it.” He leaned forward and looked around me at Talon. “Could you see it?”
“I heard it.” The goblin wrinkled his nose. “I sure as hell could smell it. But no, until it popped up over our heads, I couldn’t see it.”
“Vegard couldn’t even see it,” I told Piaras. “And I could only see it because…” I didn’t want to finish that sentence, at least not out loud. I didn’t know it for sure, but I strongly suspected that my demon-sighting ability was the Saghred’s doing. I had a link with the Saghred; Piaras didn’t. So what did Piaras have that a senior Guardian, a highly trained, elite magical warrior, didn’t?
Piaras turned his face toward me and away from the squad room. “You think you could see it because of the you-know-what?” His voice was barely audible.
“I suspect so, yes,” I told him. “And you seeing it is probably just another talent you didn’t know you had.” I didn’t believe it for a second, but I didn’t want Piaras thinking otherwise.
And speaking of manifesting new talents, there was the not-so-small matter of Talon needing to come clean with his father.
“Does Tam know you can do what you did?”
Talon winced. “I think he’s starting to suspect there’s more to me than meets the eye. Are you going to tell him what happened?”
“No, I’m not. Unless you don’t do it first.”
“But-”
“Talon, there were witnesses,” I told him point-blank. “Hundreds of them. Tam will find out, if he hasn’t already.”
Talon was a half-breed, and that was reason enough for the old blood of both races to despise who he was, what he was, and the very fact that he existed. The kind of power he’d thrown around today wasn’t about to change anyone’s mind. Talon was probably in more danger than he’d ever been in his young life-and the kid didn’t have a clue. He had to know there’d be rumblings, but not that some of the Conclave would be calling for his blood-and his head. Especially considering who and what his father was.
Talon thunked his head against the back of his chair and hissed a chain of obscenities in Goblin. I had to admit, if you needed to do any quality swearing, Goblin was the language to use.
Then Talon turned on the charm and grinned slyly, fangs peeking into view. “You of all people should know what a burden it is to be gorgeous and a magical prodigy. People just don’t understand.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said blandly. “Are you going to tell Tam?”
The kid’s grin widened. “I’ll tell him if you’ll give me that big, wet, sloppy kiss.”
“No kiss, and you’ll tell him anyway.”
His aqua eyes glittered devilishly. Damn, but he looked like Tam.