“How do you do that, exactly?” I asked.
“My gift is manipulation of the part of your brain that helps you control their magic. I can help you focus and direct your energy toward that. Hopefully, it will work.” He glanced at Roarke. “It doesn’t always, however.”
I looked at Roarke, whose expression was stony.
Holy undercurrent, Batman. There was something here.
I’d bet big money that Roarke hadn’t needed help controlling his own power—he was the epitome of self-control. But someone else close to him, perhaps?
Now clearly wasn’t the time to ask.
I turned back to Horatio. “Can we do it now?”
He nodded and stood, then came around the desk to kneel by my chair.
“I’m going to touch your shoulder.” His voice was soothing, like a doctor’s. “Your brain may feel….tingly for a moment. That’s just me figuring out exactly what we’re dealing with.”
I couldn’t help but stiffen when he touched my shoulder. Slowly, I sucked in a breath, waiting.
Horatio stumbled back, his eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?” Roarke demanded.
“Did it work?” I asked.
“I didn’t have a chance.” His gaze traveled between the two of us as he stood. “You have a block in your mind.”
“A block?”
“Yes. A rare spell. Someone—or something—has cursed you.”
Confusion ricocheted through me. “What the hell do you mean?”
“I don’t know how or when, but you have a rare obstruction in your mind that limits your control of your powers. It’s not just that higher category powers are harder to control—you have something in your mind that is making it nearly impossible to control certain gifts.”
Shit. “Why? How?”
“A seer prophesied that someone like you would come to me for help,” Horatio said. “It was fated.”
Roarke made a noise low in his throat, the kind that indicated what he thought of fate. Many supernaturals didn’t believe in it—which I thought was totally nuts. Magic was real, so why not fate? I definitely believed. There were all kinds of ways to figure out fate—seers, prophecies, spells.
“I find that hard to believe,” Roarke said. “You just stumbled into a seer who predicted Del’s arrival here?”
Horatio straightened. “We have some of the most advanced seers in the world here, over in Cassandra’s College. I make a point to visit them every year.”
“That’s a bit often.” I might believe fate, but I didn’t want to know too much about it. Knowing what was coming could be stressful. But some supernaturals liked to know. They were the magical equivalent of those humans who called the psychic hotline. Except in this case, it was true.
“I know.” He grinned sheepishly. “But I like to stay on top of things. And it helps with my work. Like with you. About five years ago, Cassandra, our oldest seer, prophesied that a woman would come to me needing help. But that it would be beyond my capability. She requested that I bring you to her.”
Hope and confusion fluttered in my chest, two butterflies duking it out for superiority. Cassandra might have answers—to problems I only now realized existed?
At least it explained my miserable control over my magic.
“Can we go see her now?”
Horatio nodded. “She doesn’t work as late as me, but she’ll want to see you.”
Roarke and I stood, and Horatio led us down the stairs to the foyer. Near the door, cloaks and hats hung from the wall. He grabbed two heavy black cloaks and two hats and handed them to us.
“Wear these,” he said. “You didn’t have an appointment, so I assume you broke in. We don’t want the Chief Constable to find you.”
I smiled weakly and said, “Yeah, that would be bad.”
Roarke and I put on the cloaks and hats. Mine was just about the right length, but Roarke’s was far too short.
“Hopefully no one will look too closely,” Horatio said. “You’re much larger than any of the other professors.”
“Is that what we’re dressed as?” I asked.
“Yes.” Horatio tugged on his cloak and hat, then hurried out into the snowy night.
Roarke and I snuck out behind him, and we moved quickly across the campus, keeping to the shadows. We saw no one as we passed by old buildings and beautiful courtyards.
“Nearly there.” Horatio led us around a silent pond.
A massive stone building sat on the other side. We skirted the pond and went around the side of the building. When we reached a small wooden door, Horatio pulled a keyring from his cloak and undid the lock, then ushered us into a small, dark hallway.
Horatio squeezed around in front of us. “Keep your footsteps silent and follow me.”
We followed him down the hall, then up a back staircase to the fourth floor. He knocked on a door at the end, and we waited for at least five minutes. It felt like ages.
Finally, a young woman opened the door. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and sleepy eyes.
“Cassandra,” Horatio said.
This was Cassandra, the oldest seer? She looked to be only twenty. Subtly, I tried to feel out her magic, sniffing the air and breathing deeply. I got a hint of something ancient—more of a feeling than a scent or taste or sound like some signatures. She was older than she looked.
“Horatio? What are you doing here at this hour?” her voice was raspy with sleep.
He pointed at me. “This is the woman you prophesied. The one with the block on her magic.”
Cassandra’s green eyes widened. “Really. Well, come in. Come in.”
She stepped back and gestured us inside. We followed Horatio into the almost painfully modern space. Everything was chrome and leather and looked slightly out of place against the old stone walls of the building.
“Take a seat.” She led us to two long leather couches that faced each other across a coffee table. She and Horatio took one, Roarke and I the other.
I sat in the hard seat and leaned toward her. “What do you know about me?”
She shifted closer. “Not much. But you have a rare spell that has been placed upon your mind. Something old that I’ve never seen before. It makes it difficult for you to control your magic.”
“Who put it there?” I hated that I couldn’t remember my past.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I do know you are important. And that the spell is harmful.”
“No kidding. I’ve been a magical mess lately, unable to control my powers. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can’t.”
“Yes. The block affects particular gifts. You are able to control some gifts but not others, am I correct?” she asked.
“Yes. Horatio said that my own powers are easier to control, along with lower category powers. Ice and things like that.”