Page 8 of Destined

She threw up her hands. “I didn’t ask for them.”

“What I mean to say is that they are proof that you are Fae. Halflings never have two abilities. They do not have enough Fae blood to acquire more than one.” He nodded at the water. “All you must do is try. Sing to the pool. Something brief.”

She felt her stomach clench. “But I told you. I can’t. I can never sing.”

“Everyone can sing, love.” He sounded patient, but his expression had grown slightly worried. “Resisting your birthright will only cause calamity. Please, try for me. Believe you can do it, and you will.”

“I’m not allowed,” she blurted out. An old memory came rising out of the dark mists of her childhood. “My mother told me that.” Her skin went cold as she stared at him. “I remember now. She said I could never sing because I might hurt Tara.”

Ryan nodded. “She would have added such a compulsion to the curse in order to protect your true form. Coming to the grove has removed it from you. You can sing now, and you must, if we are to be sure.”

She dragged in a deep breath, and then tried to repeat a few words from one of her dad’s favorite holiday songs. Her throat closed up so quickly she felt as if she were strangling.

“Breathe,” Ryan told her. “Listen to what you feel inside.”

Inside Kayla was terrified. Her lungs seemed to be shriveling, and Ryan’s voice sounded very far away. She had felt this before, but she couldn’t recall when or why. One by one the sounds of the night faded, leaving her in a pool of silence. She thought of Christine’s saucy smile, and the sunlight gleaming on Tara’s unbound hair, and took another breath. A frail, gossamer sensation fluttered in her veins. She felt rather than heard her voice leave her throat.

Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells.

Kayla stopped after the last word, and the air filled with the sound of ringing.

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

She hadn’t realized she’d sung the words until she felt steam rising over her. The water in the pool had also begun boiling. She gave Ryan a panicked look.

“You said magick doesn’t work in here.”

“Spells, and most abilities, do not,” he assured her as he came around the pool. “Your power is much older than the grove, and far more formidable. I think your mother must have given you some training, however, for you did not lose control of it.”

Horror raked her insides with rusty claws. “That’s why you went over there. You thought I’d hurt you.”

“I have never been in the presence of a spellsinger.” Ryan drew her into his arms, and he didn’t look at all afraid of her. “I was not certain what would occur once you deliberately tried to sing.”

“And still you brought me here.” Although she tried to smile, her lips had gone on strike. “You can’t even go berserker on me to defend yourself, can you?”

He shook his head. “Here you have all the power, my lady.”

“If you know anyone who wants it—besides the Blackstones—I’d be happy to give it up.” She looked around them. “I’d better try to cool down this pool before it turns these tangerines into marmalade. Is that okay to try?”

When he nodded, the silence gathered around her again. But this time Kayla didn’t resist the strange feelings. She allowed them to burble up and sang a line from a carol about a snowman. As before she couldn’t hear herself, but the water stopped bubbling. Her pleasure in her minor accomplishment vanished as snowflakes began to fall over the grove.

“I can change the weather, too?”

“’Tis said there are no limits to a spellsinger’s power.” He touched his mouth to her brow. “Never worry, love. You will manage your ability.”

She brushed some snow from his hair. “I don’t seem to know how to turn it off without turning on something else. How do I stop the blizzard? Central Florida isn’t ready for a white Christmas.”

Ryan thought for a moment. “Try singing the snow song words in reverse.”

She went over it in her mind until she felt she had it. Though it was awkward, once Kayla sang the line backward, the snow disappeared.

“It worked,” she exclaimed. “And me with no Fae training whatsoever.” She also felt a little light-headed, maybe from all the shocks she’d had over the last half hour. “Can we sit for a minute? I think I’m all sung out for now.”

Ryan drew her over to the largest chair, where he sat down and pulled her onto his lap.

“I should tell you that no one can teach you how to manage your ability. There are no other spellsingers except you. I fear you must learn through practice.”

“Maybe we could do that somewhere that isn’t quite so sacred.” She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, and then jolted up right. “Wait a minute. If I’m the spellsinger, then I was the one who blasted the Blackstones out of the faire grounds when they attacked us in Tennessee. How could I do that and not realize it?”