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Calâr nodded. “My friend explained where she is, and that she is well taken care of. She is in no danger, and we can go take her to Hazel after we connect you to your powers.”
Basil was reeling, his thoughts a scrambled mess of ifs and buts and maybes, his feelings all over the place.
“Have you tried to connect with your magic yet?” Calâr asked.
Basil nodded numbly. “Didn’t work. I feel a hum, the buzz of power coursing in my veins, and I discovered my element is earth, but I haven’t been able to tap into it.”
“I have read of this happening. It is because your dormant demon powers are blocking access to your fae magic. There is a way to activate all your magic…I assume you don’t know your true name?”
“My what?”
“Every fae has a true name, revealed to them by the Fates at some point during their formative years, and that name holds all their power. There are rare cases of fae not learning their true name—as with you, probably because of either the glamour put on you, or your demon blood—and in these instances, there is a way to trigger that revelation. Once you know your true name, you’ll be able to access your powers.”
Calâr smiled. “I can help you with that.”
* * *
That devious, shameless liar.
Isa stared at the male fae on her doorstep, the very one she’d seen in the throne room that fateful night—when he murdered the fae who’d exchanged Basil. Oh, but he didn’t mention that, did he? No, he served up a bunch of lies half wrapped in enough truth to mask the deceit. Enough truth to whet Basil’s appetite for more, judging by the gleam in Basil’s eyes.
And who could blame him? Here he was, finally getting some more information about his heritage, as well as having the prospect of unlocking his powers dangled in front of him, something she knew he craved. This insidious male—Calâr—gave him these morsels of knowledge, gifted him with the insight into his past which Isa hadn’t been able to divulge to him.
For if she had told Basil about his half-demon heritage, about the circumstances of his mother’s death, he would have wanted to know how she knew. And how could she have explained it without giving away her involvement? No, it had been too risky, so she’d opted to keep her mouth shut and pretend she didn’t know.
And now she couldn’t even expose Calâr’s lies—that the fae who exchanged Basil had been his friend, had asked him to help Basil, that Basil’s father was long dead—because in order to call Calâr on his deceit, she’d have to reveal that she was there when Calâr learned about Basil, that she saw him murder the fae, and that Basil’s father was still alive—and looking for him.
And it would expose her as a liar as well, because she had known, and kept these truths from him all this time. She couldn’t afford to discredit herself in front of Basil, and she wouldn’t be able to explain to him why she hadn’t disclosed all she knew—not without telling him about the curse.
He couldn’t know. He couldn’t ever find out about her involvement in his past, that she’d dragged his mother back into Faerie, that Roana had cursed her…that she needed to take his life to save her own.
Which was why she hadn’t even told him his father was alive, even though she knew it would be incredibly important to him. For if he found out his father lived and was searching for him, he’d want to find him, of course.
But any meeting with the demon would put Isa’s life in grave danger—Basil’s father saw her that day in the palace, when she brought Roana back. She’d worn her bounty hunter garb, her face half covered, but there was a chance he might still recognize her as the one responsible for surrendering his lover and unborn child to the king and queen. And considering the bloody revenge he took on the whole of the royal court, he might butcher Isa where she stood if he realized who she was.
The web of lies she’d spun now threatened to trap her as well. She choked on the irony of calling Calâr a liar when she was no better. But what did he want with Basil? Whatever his endgame, it couldn’t be good, and he couldn’t be trusted. She needed to warn Basil without exposing herself.
“How will you do that?” Basil asked, startling her. His gaze rested on Calâr, his brow furrowed. “How does this true name triggering work?”
“There is an ancient oracle,” Calâr replied. “One of the facts it can reveal is a fae’s true name. I will guide you there and show you how.”
Isa narrowed her eyes. Was he speaking of the Nornûn? She’d heard of the temple, and how its worship had fallen neglected over time. Most fae didn’t practice the old ways anymore, and many cult sites of old lay long forgotten. She’d never heard of the Nornûn being used for a true name revelation, but then again, she hadn’t known of any cases like Basil’s before now. Knowing one’s true name since the early days of childhood was so natural, it hadn’t even crossed her mind that Basil might never have learned his.
Basil’s expression was thoughtful. “What about Rose? I set out to find her. I feel like we should check in on her first.”
“I understand your concern.” Calâr inclined his head again. “But rest assured, Rose is safe, and no harm will come to her where she is. There is no rush. You have ample time to claim your powers and your identity.”
What a load of deer shit. She barely held back her snort. If Calâr truly knew where Rose was, Isa would grow a pair of fairy wings. No, there was no way he had any information about her whereabouts. Isa had heard what the fae who exchanged Basil told both Basil’s father and Calâr, and it hadn’t included anything about the witch changeling’s location.
But once again, she couldn’t tell Basil Calâr was lying without betraying her own duplicity.
Still, she had to try. “Basil, can I talk to you for a second?”
His eyes of myriad shades of brown met hers. “Sure.”
She nodded at Calâr. “Excuse us for a moment.” And with that, she closed the door in the male’s face.
Basil raised his brows. “What is it?”
