Wand of Despair (The Tattered Veil Book 3) by SA Magnusson

Author:SA Magnusson [Magnusson, SA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ASH Publishing
Published: 2019-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

11

I clutched the wand tightly, not wanting to let it go. I didn’t doubt that it belonged to them, but just because it belonged to them didn’t mean that I needed to hand it over to them. There was still the matter of why it had ended up with someone else. I continued to push a hint of power out from myself, using that to create a barrier, a way to solidify a connection to myself and the wand, ensuring that the fae couldn’t take it from me. I would hold onto it as long as I could, but eventually, that strength would fade and I would lose it.

There was still the matter of my fatigue. The longer I was here, the more tired I felt. How long had I been away? There were limits to my ability to maintain focus, and I was nearing the end of them. If it came down to it, would I be able to hold onto my focus? Or would I eventually fail, drifting off, losing my connection to the barrier, and thus losing the wand?

The fae left me in the throne room with only two guards standing watch over the door. I was pacing, but I paused, looking at the two fae.

“How long am I going to be here like this?”

“You don’t get to question,” the nearest said.

“Really? That’s how this is going to go?”

“You’re here on our terms.”

“I’m here on your terms, but you don’t get to decide what I do.” I stopped in front of them, looking up at him, and smiled. “Besides, I have the wand.”

“You should not.”

“Should or shouldn’t, it doesn’t matter. I have it and you want it and I’m not giving it back.” It was childish, and I knew it, but it felt good to say. I had been trapped by the fae before and didn’t like it. I liked it just as much this time too, and the longer that I was here and the more tired that I was, the more I felt tormented by them.

I looked down at the wand again. I hadn’t put it back into my pocket and decided that it was time to at least experiment a little with it.

If I was going to be trapped here, and if I was going to lose the wand one way or the other, I might as well understand what it was capable of doing.

“How does this thing work?” I muttered.

Maybe it was sort of like the Taker of Spells and I needed to talk to it. The knife seemed to respond to my commands, so that all I had to do was simply ask it to do something.

“Show me how to use you,” I said to the wand.

That probably wasn’t right way to do it, but nothing else changed.

What if I pushed a little bit of power into it?

I sent a trickle of magic and energy into the wand. As I did, I felt a hint of resistance. It was uncomfortable, and the wand began to grow hot, unpleasantly so.

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