He nodded, but his face was pouty. “I suppose.”
“Isn’t it possible for a fae to not have magic?” I asked.
The principal looked up at me. “No. Fae are magic. It is a part of us the day we are born.”
“But let’s say I didn’t have magic. Could you tell then? Even with the glamour?”
“I think we’ve kept your principal long enough with your behavior. Perhaps you could ask your questions another time,” Maeve said, eyes flashing.
But the principal waved away Maeve’s response. “Oh, that’s alright, Councilor. I’m happy to answer her questions. After all, this must be a very confusing time for her.” He turned toward me and continued, “You not having access to your magic is not the same as being magicless. With changelings, we weave additional magic into your glamours that directs your own magic to shield you from danger.”
“So, why didn’t it protect me from O’Faolain?”
“The protective weaving reads intent and is fairly effective, overall. However, a charm meant to elicit feelings of love is something that the magical shield would interpret as being good even if it’s not. No magic working is foolproof.
“Now, a magical object such as one used to determine a fae’s magical ability has no innate intent. But your magic shield guards against intentless magic as a precaution since having no intent can be just as dangerous as having malicious intent. On the other hand, things like healing charms have an inherently good intent woven into them, so the protective magic allows them in.”
“Huh,” I said.
“But let’s explore your hypothetical. If a fae was to have so little magic that they would appear to lack magic completely—which would definitely not match your pedigree—then it would be fairly simple to detect. They would have more human characteristics, such as slower healing, tiring easily, and the like. Magical objects would generally not work either, unless they required such a minuscule amount of magic that the fae met the threshold simply by being fae.”
“Huh,” I said. “Would a portal be one of those things?”
Principal Hadwick opened his mouth to respond, but Maeve intervened.
“Yes, well, that was a lovely hypothetical conversation. Now if you’ll excuse us, Principal Hadwick, I think it would be best if I took Kella home for the remainder of the day.”
Principal Hadwick smiled. “Of course.”
I had to walk at double my normal pace as Maeve ushered me through the school doors and into the visitor parking lot. Apparently, I’d done enough “show no weakness” for the day.
When we got inside the car, she said, “Asking about magicless fae is not the most circumspect thing you could have done in there.” Her voice was biting.
“Well, I’m just trying to understand what to expect here.”
“That’s why you ask me,” Maeve said, slamming the car door shut.
I slammed my door closed even a harder. “This coming from the person who kept me in the dark for three weeks? You never even bothered to tell me about a rebellion that I’d be inheriting if I became queen.”
“When you become queen. And I didn’t want you concerned about something that will be inconsequential after the investiture.”
“How about I decide what’s consequential? Like me having no magic in a magical world—that seems consequential. Knowing what can and can’t happen to me is also pretty consequential.”
Maeve’s lips tightened as she looked out the rearview mirror, backing the car out of the parking spot.
“You do not understand the political climate, Kella. We—the council—do not yet wish to divulge that you have no magic and asking the questions you were asking could cause someone to wonder.”
“Why not tell everyone I have no magic? Maybe the idea of a weak queen will get the rebels to back off.”
Maeve’s laugh rang darkly. “Again, you don’t understand. After the investiture, you will not be weak. As for your current lack of magic, believe me, the rebels would be very upset about that.” She glanced at me and then back at the road. “So if you are interested in staying alive, I recommend you keep your lack of magic under wraps for as long as possible.”
Well then.
I glared at Maeve’s profile as she drove us home, questions roiling around my mind like bubbles in a hot tub.
Not that I would ask her any of them—it wasn’t as if she’d give me a full answer anyway. But Mickey—well, he’d sworn to be my encyclopedia for all things fae. I figured now was a good time to collect.
Chapter 14
Mickey wasn’t home. Maeve and I ate dinner quietly. I picked at my food, and when Maeve excused herself from the table after she was done eating, I sat staring at nothing, my thoughts a jumbled mess.
Questions swirled around my mind—ones I had no hope of answering until Mickey got home. I looked over the telephone, remembering Deena. It seemed like forever ago that she brought me here. I almost laughed just thinking about what she’d say if I told her about all of the crazy stuff that had happened since then. Deena would probably drag me straight to a mental institution. But hey, she’d probably let me stop by and visit Caleb on the way. As it stood right now, Deena was planning on taking me to visit Caleb next Monday since students had the day off.
My grin faded as I thought about my last dream with Caleb. I’d dreamt about him two times now—well, if you only counted the ones where he seemed real. Both times, he’d insisted that it wasn’t my dream. That he was real. Of course, that couldn’t be true. That kind of thing didn’t happen. It was like…magic.
I chewed my lip, eyeing the phone.
There was a way I could find out if there was more to my dreams than I thought—if dream-Caleb was for real. And what could it hurt?
I grabbed the receiver and dialed Deena’s number.
On the third ring, she picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Deena, it’s Kella.”
“Hey, Kella. It’s late. What’s going
