Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(27)

My gaze snaps to Marius again. I study him more closely, scrutinizing his perfect, unblemished skin. I think of Faelan . . . He’s more than seven hundred years old? He doesn’t look a day over twenty-three. How old is Marius if he looks thirty? And how does it work—are they immortal or something? Oh wow, does that mean I’m going to live hundreds of years too?

Even as the thought comes, my brain rejects it. Because if that is my reality now . . . what do I do with something like that?

“The point is that you need to understand what’s expected of you as a demi,” Marius says, breaking through my amazement. “There’s much you’ve yet to learn, and the hour is late.”

Aelia says with a smirk, “Like, three or four years late.”

“Excuse me?” What’s that mean?

“She will do fine,” Marius says. “Once the Introduction is done tomorrow evening, she’ll have a little time to learn.”

I lean forward, gripping the table. “How am I three or four years late? Late to what?”

“You’re a demigoddess,” Marius says.

Like I don’t know that already! “We covered that.”

“Normally you’d have been brought in when your magic began to surface,” he continues. “Around your thirteenth or fourteenth year is when that usually occurs. Another demi would have felt your Emergence beginning—a process that takes several years to fulfill itself—but it appears that you were cloaked or muffled in some way. I felt your magic begin to spark only three months ago. I sent the pixie and the human to watch you for a time, to see if I was sensing correctly. It was clear fairly quickly to Star what you were. And so an Emergence ceremony was requested for the next new moon. Unfortunately, that leaves very little time to prepare you. Less than I thought, if a whole day was wasted.”

That explanation certainly clarifies the last few months of my life some. But an ache blossoms in my chest when I think of the moment I met Ziggy—how I saved her from that dealer off Chatsworth. Was he a fake too? He nearly shot me—or I thought he was going to. But it was all a ploy to endear me to her. How could I have been so blind? I’m supposed to be the liar. I’m the manipulator, the survivor.

Now I’m the one who’s been duped—my whole life.

“When?” I ask.

“The initial Introduction ceremony will be tomorrow night,” Marius says. “And until then, things are delicate. Your energies will be confused and unfocused. There is a small amount of danger for you until the official protective bonds can be done by the druids. Then you’ll train with your protector until the final Emergence ceremony, which will occur at the next new moon.”

Danger. From me or for me? I already know I’m combustible. That I can burn the shit out of things. And people.

I feel like I’m being smothered by the questions piling up inside of me.

I swallow, then clear my throat. “What happens at this thing tomorrow?” The word ceremony makes me think of some secret society or fraternity. I imagine chickens being slaughtered on an altar or a potion I’ll be forced to drink—something with eye of newt in it.

“It’s merely a formality, but it’s vital for your safety as you come into your powers,” Marius says, his voice gentle, like he can sense my anxiety. “The Introduction ceremony tomorrow will present you to the Otherworld, as well as seal an interim protector for you. That protector’s House will shield you until you choose a permanent loyalty to a deity at the Emergence ceremony on the new moon. I’m hoping you will officially choose Faelan to be this protector tomorrow so the House of your mother, Brighid, will have the privilege of giving you safe haven.”

“Why can’t it just be you who protects me?” I ask.

His brow pinches. “Do you not approve of Faelan?”

“He’s fine,” I say. Except he makes me feel too many things I shouldn’t be feeling. He makes that voice too loud in my head. The one that tells me to take. “But you’re, like, in charge, right?” Which probably means Marius is really powerful. Maybe powerful enough to protect himself from me better than Faelan can.

“I’m not usually one to take on such a role.” He gives me a troubled look. “It is your choice, but I would strongly suggest you choose Faelan. He’s best suited for you, more so than I would be.”

Something about his statement worries me. “What’s this protector supposed to do exactly?”

Aelia leans back in her chair. “Teach you how to feed.” She smirks and takes another sip of wine. “It can get a little . . . weird.”

“Enough, Lia,” Marius scolds. “A protector will teach you how to control and manipulate the goddess energy in your blood properly.” He picks the linen napkin up from his lap and wipes the sides of his mouth, then sets the white cloth on his plate, signaling he’s finished. “This isn’t a game to us, young Sage, as Aelia may make it seem. Consider what I’ve said, and we’ll finish this later. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Where are you going?” Aelia asks, sitting up straight again, all her flippancy gone.

Marius stands. “I need to speak with Faelan.”

She shoots me a worried glance, and I realize I’m a coconspirator in covering up for nearly burning down the cottage. Not good. But if Aelia thinks it would be bad for her dad to know what happened, then I’ll just have to go with it, even though she’s annoying.