Free Old Dog, New Tricks by Hailey Edwards Page A

“I’m guessing the aer thing is the pocket of air sidhe use to hide weapons? I saw the magistrates use them. Rook does too.”
    Mac was right to want me able to protect what was mine without borrowing from higher powers.
    I had learned my lesson the hard way today.
    “By right of creation, I am sidhe and their powers are mine to use as I will.” He considered me a moment. “As my child, their magics are yours as well.”
    Meaning their language, which had always fascinated me, was mine to learn as well.
    Interesting .
    But not interesting enough to distract me. “How common are never blades?”
    “They aren’t.” With his finger, Mac traced a design on the table by his hip. “The cost of kindling one is so great few can afford them. They require a sacrifice. A life for each blade awakened.” He let me think on that. “They aren’t carried by trolls for longer than it takes one to complete its mission. Then the blades are returned to their masters.”
    Their mission was obvious, but saying it out loud gave me the willies. “They came for me.”
    Mac faced me fully, grim lines aging his flawless skin to match the weary strain in his eyes.
    “The Morrigan needs my blood to erase the threshold. If she has you—your blood—she may not barter with me until she knows if yours is as potent. Even knowing it might not work, even if it takes every drop...” his voice lowered to a thick rasp, “...the Morrigan won’t stop until you bleed for her.”
    I stared at my glamour-encased hand. “It was a test.”
    Quiet anger thrummed through him. “I think so, yes.”
    “She had me cut, fixed it so the trolls used a blade that would short out my healing abilities and then told them to drag me bleeding through the portal.” I pieced it together. “The Morrigan planned to sit back and watch what happened. If I smudged the threshold on my way across or shorted it out...”
    “It would prove your blood could erase the ward,” Mac finished.
    I rocked back on my heels, glancing between them. “So where does this leave us?”
    “The magistrates are tucked away in pairs in remote locations across the country.” Mai tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Mable, of course, will stay put at the marshal’s office. She’s monitoring the portal and relaying information as it develops between us, the marshals, the magistrates and their respective outposts.” Her attempt at a smile waned. “Basically just another day at the office for her.”
    My throat tightened, and the room became veiled by unshed tears I blinked rapidly to dispel.
    I would not lose someone else I loved to this war and my own foolishness.
    Mac widened his stance. “She has options if the main floors have to be evacuated.”
    I almost laughed. “How many options can a bean-tighe have with her house under attack?”
    “More than you might think,” he answered. “Her kind is heartier than you know.”
    “Fine.” I caved. “What about us?”
    “We go to Faerie,” he said, “and we sever the tethers—”
    “Just like that?” I had expected the answer, but it stuck in my craw. “We let the Morrigan win?”
    “Shush.” Mai rested her hand on my arm. “Let the man talk.”
    With a polite nod to Mai, Mac continued, “We will go to Faerie and sever the tethers, cutting off the Morrigan’s escape routes. When she can’t slide into the mortal realm through existing pathways, she will realize she has to forge her own, and she can’t without my blood to anchor a new tether.”
    “Then we go after her,” I clarified.
    “We won’t have to.” His smile showed teeth. “She will come after us.”
    “Wait.” I rewound the conversation. “So the magistrates made the call? They voted yes?”
    “Thierry,” Mai said, “if you don’t do this, there won’t be a conclave to come home to.”
    “If we go vigilante now, who reins us in next time? Thinking we know what’s best, that our way is more valid than someone else’s, is a slippery slope.