Sarah turned to me, but it was a long, protracted move. It was almost as if she had to convince every single muscle in her body to contract so she could manage the movement. When she finally faced me, I saw how ashen her face was, how locked with fear her lips and mouth and eyes and brow had become.
Though Bridgette had been halfway through demanding some answers again, now she stopped. In fact, everyone in the room stopped as they all stared at Sarah.
“You knew,” I said once more, voice weak but gaze intense. “You knew he isn’t a fairy. Why didn’t you tell me?” I added through clenched teeth.
I watched Sarah breathe. It was a heavy, labored move as if somebody had punctured one of her lungs. She brought up a sweaty, white-knuckled hand and locked it on her chest. She took one more breath, tilted her head down, and then shook her head. “He didn’t tell me; I figured it out. You have to remember that I’m older than I look,” she said hesitantly. “And I can never forget. I’ve known Max for decades. Knew him even before he became the bodyguard of your grandmother.”
I paled. Though I’d kind of figured out that Sarah was probably older than she looked, I hadn’t realized she was that old.
“Max’s memory loss – it was never normal, couldn’t be the mere activity of using his powers. It was too directed.”
“Too convenient,” we both said at the same time.
She tilted her head down, locked her gaze on me, and nodded slowly. “Too convenient. There were other clues, too, other evidence he wasn’t quite normal.”
“What other evidence?” I frowned as my heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t have seen the shadow, could she?
It was her turn to tilt her head back and face me with all her attention. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you? That’s how you figured it all out.”
I pressed my lips together and swallowed. “The shadow?” I questioned.
She nodded. “The shadow.”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Bridgette demanded. She threatened to stand, but Sarah brought both her hands up in a placating motion.
“You’re almost split through. You just lie there. There is too much going on for me to lose you now, Bridgette. We will need you at your fighting best if we have any chance of getting through this, saving Chi, and saving this city.” Sarah twisted her head, and a contorted, fearful expression crumpled her features. “And saving Max,” she added in a quiet, distant tone that sent a thrill of fear spiking down my back.
It was my turn to threaten to get to my feet. “You mean there’s a chance? A chance to save him?”
Sarah twisted her head and faced me in full. A frown pressed across her lips, and it was obvious she was assessing me with all her power. “That really depends on you,” she said. She nodded down at the contract in my hands. “That will be enough to hold off McCain for now. It won’t work forever. You’ll have to take him down.” She never let her gaze deviate as she stared at me, as everyone in the room stared at me.
I swallowed. “What do you mean I have to take him down? You are going to help, right?” I said in a shaking voice. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a miracle worker.”
“No, you can just see the future,” Sarah Anne said quietly, a strange expression on her face. It wasn’t a simple expression. It wasn’t exactly one of surrender or submission, but it was something close.
I felt my cheeks pale to the point of dropping off. “Didn’t you hear what Bridgette said earlier? I can’t use my powers. The cost will be my future, and that’s what he wants. He’s been manipulating me since the day I inherited my grandmother’s house and this stupid curse,” I said, even though I was well aware no one else would know what the hell the curse was. “From the beginning, he’s been pushing me into situations where I have to use my powers, where I have to see the future. Because every time I do, it robs me of my own future. So no, I can’t use my powers to defeat him. Because that won’t defeat him. It will play into his hands.”
Sarah watched me, watched the passion crumple my features and pitch through my voice. She didn’t back down and agree it would be a completely awful idea to give myself up to the fireflies and give in to Max at the same time.
“All powers cost,” she said in a quiet tone. “That’s the cost of doing magic.”
“I know that,” I said, voice rattling with anger. “You think I don’t know that?” I couldn’t help but cut my gaze toward Max. He was still lying there on the couch. Even though the witches had obviously made an effort to make him comfortable, it didn’t change the fact that his sightless eyes were still open, that shadow still dancing between his irises and pupils.
“Magic costs all. That’s how the universe works,” Sarah continued, ignoring what I’d said and the hot flush of rage that took to my cheeks.
This time, I really did ignore my injuries as I pushed to my feet. “You’re not listening to me. Every time I use my powers, it costs me my future. And that’s not something I’m willing to give up. It’s what McCain wants. He wants me to become some soulless, mindless automaton so he can control me.”
“All powers cost,” Sarah repeated once more, tone completely neutral, expression unfazed. She
