Page 29 of Casting Butterflies

“I don’t see how.”

“Neither do I, but we shouldn’t simply dismiss his concerns. It’s possible there’s things he hasn’t told us that have him extra worried.”

“You think he’s keeping secrets.”

“I guarantee he is.” Cedric rolled his furry shoulders. “I would in his place.”

“Since we’re alone, let me ask, do you think he’ll hurt me?”

The cat took his time replying. “Currently, he appears to be focused on keeping you from harm. However, depending on circumstances, if he feels it is in the best interests of his people to eliminate you, he likely won’t hesitate.”

“Wouldn’t killing me mean the spirit is set loose?”

“Possibly.”

I frowned. “Wouldn’t a ghost with nuke-level magic roaming on its own be bad?”

“The problem is we don’t know for certain what would happen if you died. Would your death untether it, or would it remain trapped in your body until it can transfer to a new vessel? The latter seems more likely given the pernicae didn’t seem to care if it killed you or not.”

“You’re not being very reassuring,” I muttered.

“Just being honest.”

I glanced at the closed bedroom door. “Sounds as if I should watch myself around Misha in case he thinks I’m too much of a liability.”

“That would probably be wise.”

I swung my feet over the edge of the bed. “Where are we?”

“A cottage close to the Rudston Monolith. Misha raced us here after the crash because it’s supposedly a safe place.”

“Does that mean the monster can’t find us here?”

“Misha appears to believe so. He said something about the heavy convergence of lei lines in the area muddling magical emanations.”

“That creature hunting me is a problem,” I noted, testing my wellbeing by standing. I didn’t fall over, which I took as a good sign.

“It is, and it will continue coming for you.”

“Meaning we need to find a way to get rid of it permanently.” My lips pursed. “The magic inside me should be capable, right? And I’m obviously able to wield it.”

“Yes and yes, but…” Cedric canted his head. “You might need to restrict how much you use the next time.”

“Worried I’ll blow up everything in a kilometer radius when I take out the monster?”

“Yes, and you’ll have to temper how much you use so you don’t kill yourself in the process. You were barely breathing after you created the wings, and you’ve been unconscious for three days.”

My brows shot up to the moon. “Three days? No wonder I’m starving.” I then frowned. “If the magic comes from the spirit, why did I pass out?”

“Because, as its host, it relies on you to keep it fed. And before you ask, I don’t mean with food. It feeds on your body, your soul, everything that is you.”

“Meaning ask too much and I might burn up every resource that keeps me alive.” That wouldn’t be good.

“Exactly.”

“How do I learn to only use a bit?”

Cedric rolled his shoulders. “By doing smaller magic. The plane, for example, instead of having the power change the wings into a living construct, you could have encased us in a cushioning shield that would have allowed us to survive impact.”