Free Dead Magic by A.J. Maguire Page B

coming from it. My magic, he thought with amazement, is sleeping.
    He opened his eyes again and peered at the wounded shoulder. They had stripped him to the waist in order to tend the wound, but he was strangely comfortable. He should have been cold, he knew. If he had a fever, he would have noticed by now. But he was neither warm, nor cold, just comfortable.
    If that wasn't strange enough, Winslow was baffled further by the dressing on his shoulder. No bandages, not even a makeshift one from clothing, just a strange, gooey green glob on the injury. Whatever it was, it covered all of the torn flesh and he had the sense it had been lathered inside the wound as well.
    Something was different. Winslow frowned up at the leafy canopy and tried to discern what was bothering him. Well, what was bothering him beyond the wounded shoulder and threat of attack. The great cat was still nearby. Winslow could sense his presence, just beyond the Warding Pillars.
    Which was, now that he thought about it, an oddity. He hadn't been able to sense the creature before, so why was he able to now?
    No amount of urging or summoning could get his magic to wake, which heightened his anxiety considerably. If the great cat returned, Winslow would be unable to protect Mirabella and her mother.
    Turning his head, Winslow sought out the girl and spotted her by the campfire. She was poking the embers with a stick, her chin propped in one hand. Winslow squinted at the glistening goo on his shoulder and wondered if he had the strength to sit up. It didn't feel like his shoulder or arm even existed. He could see them there, right where they should be, but when he prodded the appendage, he couldn't feel it.
    Confused, Winslow searched the campsite for Fayree. He knew she was there, could sense her, but couldn't see her anywhere. Frowning, Winslow realized that the same sense he had for the great cat beyond the Pillars was what alerted him to Fayree's presence. He tried to concentrate, to define what was letting him know these things. It wasn't his Talent, he double-checked, but still only caught the sense of slumber from his magic.
    He sighed and then stopped.
    He could smell them.
    Inhaling again just to test the theory, Winslow not only smelled the cats, he could taste them in the air.
    "Mother, Maiden and Crone," he breathed.
    Fayree was a great cat.
    But that was impossible. He'd healed the woman. She had the same bone structure as any Untalented. True, he'd been a little disoriented at the time, what with having just survived a train wreck, but he was certain he would have noticed any discrepancies.
    "Mr. Winslow?" Mirabella perked up at the sound of his voice. "Mr. Winslow, you're awake! Are you hungry?"
    He shook his head. He probably was hungry; he was just too focused on being confused. "Where is your mother?"
    "Here, Lord Agoston," Fayree called from the tree line.
    Winslow had to crane his neck to see her approach. She was exactly as he remembered her, female parts all where they should be, but now that he watched he could see a litheness to her movements. As blocky and hard as her features were, Fayree was graceful. She had a shorter frame, built a bit stockier than the average female, but the difference wasn't so substantial as to be noticed at first glance. Her dark hair was down, curly locks flipping wildly around her shoulders, which only seemed to accent a sense of strangeness about her. For a second he thought he might be going crazy, but the look in her eyes told him otherwise.
    She was different and they both knew it.
    "I cannot summon my magic," he said. It seemed important that she know he was vulnerable, but he couldn't fathom why. If she wanted him dead, she could have killed him in his sleep, or just left him to bleed to death after the attack.
    "I thought that might happen." Fayree stepped beside Mirabella. "The methods of the Tre`ow are unknown to your kind. I fear I may have traumatized your Talent."
    "Madam," Winslow couldn't stop a