I quickly twisted my damp hair into a braid that fell to my waist. Without pausing to check my appearance, I exited the room and headed for the library. At the end of the hallway, I spotted McKenzie turning toward me at the top of the staircase. The rooms that belonged to her and Aiden were at the very end of the wing.
Our eyes met. Her gaze instantly skittered away. I ignored the rebuke, stopped where I was, and determinedly put a smile on my face. “Hi.”
She made as if to walk past me.
I stepped into her path and tried again. “How’s Aiden?”
McKenzie stopped, a flash of annoyance on her features. “Fine. I’m just off to put him to bed.”
I nodded, not sure how else to proceed and made as if to continue on, but she asked abruptly, “How’s training?”
I paused, surprised at the question. But then I saw the glint in her eye, understood that she knew full well that I’d failed to find my spark again. “Nothing to report,” I responded with forced neutrality.
She raised one eyebrow. “Time’s sifting. I hope Gage knows what he’s doing.”
My smile slipped.
Hers bloomed. “Well, I should get going. I need to see to Aiden.”
She began to move past me, but I reached out and grabbed her arm. Oh yeah, I was done—sick of the daily abuse I took from Gage and sick of the looks and snide comments McKenzie sent my way. The only friend I had here was Ian, and I barely saw him given that he was in Perth during the week. Enough was enough.
“Look, McKenzie, I know you don’t like me, but given what’s at stake, shouldn’t we at least try to work together?”
Her lips thinned, and she turned her gaze to my hand on her arm. “You haven’t earned that right,” she bristled. “You’re not showing promise with any of the training. What’s the point of trying to work together if you don’t have the ability to survive what’s coming?”
My face flushed. “Oh, I get it,” I breathed. “You’re scared I’m not going to make it? That I’m going to fail?” I flung my arms out wide, angered at the lack of faith and support she had for me. “I haven’t played the game you have all played since birth! I am doing my best! I have vowed to see this through, regardless of whether I live or die. The least you can do is work with me and help me understand what I’ve been thrown into.”
McKenzie stared at me for a second, face tight. “I know what’s at stake in this game, and I can’t countenance failure. I have someone I care about very much in this world, and if any of what I’ve seen in my dreams becomes truth, his life will be far too short. And to see you fail to inherit your legacy day in, day out, is a blow to that hope.”
I felt the color leach from my face. “You’ve seen a future where I fail?
She jerked her head. “And it was something I would wish on no one.”
I caught the tremor in her hands, but I needed to know. “What did you see?”
Her eyes looked past me, unseeing. “Death. Rivers of blood, sacrifices we haven’t seen since the beginning of time. An uprising of dark magic that vanquishes the light—lust, anger, and hate; a compulsion to kill and maim, to steal and whore. And on the throne of that new world is Talorgan, his reach all-encompassing. While our people—those that hold to the light—are gone.” Her eyes cut back to mine, her lips bloodless, the haunting memory in her eyes. “What I saw is a future not worth living for. It is a future where the vulnerable—like my son—are either dead or corrupted.”
I felt every word like a physical blow. Her gift was a shackle, just as much as my own. My voice was hoarse. “Is that all you saw? Was it the only future?”
McKenzie stared at me, and I thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she said quietly, “No. I’ve seen an alternative. I’ve seen…you. The last Daughter of Winter.” She barked a sharp mirthless laugh. “Except, in that future you have come into your legacy. You have your magic, and you know how to wield it. This”—she said disdainfully, waving her hand at my form—“is not what I saw. And the longer you fail to progress, the more the future in my nightmares becomes reality. So, Brydie MacKay, until you illustrate that you deserve my support and respect, I will not waste my time making sure your feelings aren’t hurt, that you are fed and clothed, or whether you’re exhausted or unwell. Show me who you are—who you should be, and then I will support you.”
My chest squeezed at the honest brutality in her words. I felt my eyes prick. A roaring in my head. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
McKenzie sneered. “Exactly. The truth hurts.”
Without another word, she pushed past me, her shoulder hitting mine as she continued walking down the hallway.
15
Brydie
After my run-in with McKenzie, I almost returned to my room, but I forced myself to continue on to the library.
The library was my favorite room in the castle, cozy and welcoming. It was also the only room that wasn’t imposing with its lavish opulence. It was a huge, circular space that took up two levels of the castle, an internal staircase providing access to endless books, all neatly cataloged in countless rows of bookshelves. A huge open fireplace was situated in the middle of the room, providing a draft of warm heat. Chairs were located conveniently next to coffee tables and lamps. The nearest armchair next to the fire was usually taken on the weekend, and it was there that I found Ian, thumbing through the pages of Cailleach’s Lore Book.
He looked up as I entered the room, his face breaking into a welcome smile.
“Brydie!” His voice was warm as he gestured to the chair opposite him. “Come, sit. Tell me how the training’s going.”
I took the seat he offered. “It’s not going so well. I still can’t scale the wall.”
Ian cocked his head to the side, glasses slipping down his nose. “It will come. I’m sure of it. I know you’ll find it; it’s just a matter of when.”
“That’s the thing,” I sighed in frustration. “We’re running out of time. There’s barely ten months until Samhain.”
“No, there’s plenty of time. The first steps in Druidic training are the hardest. Things move exponentially once you’ve tapped into your magic. I’ve seen it many times, and so has Gage.”
“He’s never mentioned that to me.” But by now, I wasn’t surprised.
Ian drew his brows together. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t.”
Because he’s an asshole. But I couldn’t say that out loud. Gage and Ian were friends, and I wasn’t petty enough to get between them. “What if there’s nothing there? Gage said he could feel my magic. He thinks it’s there, but what if it isn’t? What if it’s just the remnants of my birthright?”
“It’s there, Brydie. I can see it. Hell, anyone looking for it can see it. You have the potential; it just needs to be awakened.”
I leaned back in my chair, glancing at the open Lore Book in his hands. The unfamiliar characters danced in front of my eyes, still not making any sense. Ian had been sketching on a notepad when I walked up. The page was a mess of scribbles with arrows and comments everywhere.
I gestured at the pad. “What’s this?”
“Just brainstorming. I’ve been trying to work out why the wards came down.”
I didn’t need to ask what day he was referring to. Samhain, the day Nora was murdered. It was also the day before I’d turned twenty-one.
His eyes locked on mine. “When Nora read the letter, she would have understood at that moment that the prophecy wasn’t going to end with her. She would have understood that she’d shielded you from the legacy for nothing. It would have been a huge shock. So much so, that when she left the library that day, she was an open target.”