Chapter 53
The Moment Ruined
Sorcha’s eyelashes fluttered as she blinked awake, the morning light prying her from the restless, dreadful sleep she’d endured.
She had spent the night tossing and turning, the ache in her side a constant reminder of her injury.Groaning softly, she turned her head and spotted Cat, still curled up and sleeping soundly.
“At least one of us slept well,” she mumbled Carefully or so she thought, she tried to slide off
the bed without waking him, but her groggy limbs had other plans. She winced as a sudden twinge of pain shot through her side as her foot snagged on the tangled mess of clothes she’d discarded on the floor.
With all the grace of a drunken sparrow, she stumbled forward, catching herself on the corner of a chair with a muffled yelp. Her hair fell in a wild mess across her face as she froze, glancing over her shoulder at Cat, who remained blissfully undisturbed.
Her relief was short lived as she groaned and rubbed her side, muttering under her breath, “So much for a quiet exit.”
Sorcha walked to the washroom, quietly closing the door behind her. She lifted her shirt and, as much as it hurt, removed the dressing. To her surprise, the cut had already healed. Sorcha had always healed quickly, but she had never really thought about it until now.
Maybe it’s because of my powers.
The thought lingered as she recalled all the times she had been hurt—every cut, scrape, and bruise.
But she couldn’t think of many. Her hand moved to her head and arm, touching her most recent injuries.
Both had healed so fast that she had nearly forgotten about them.
Now, as her fingers brushed over her side, only a thin sliver of a scar and some bruising remained, hidden among her runes.
She changed her clothes, brushed her hair, and tied it back with a ribbon at the nape of her neck, leaving a few strands to frame her face.
Emerging from the washroom, she found Cat still lying on her bed, now watching her as she moved around the room.
Cat lazily stretched. “Good morning, Sunshine.
Oh, I like Sunshine, it works.”
Sorcha rolled her eyes. “And I suppose I should continue to call you Cat…?”
Cat, now leaping off the bed, padded toward her. “Cat works just fine. I’m not really a cat, and Cait Sídhe have many names. Mine is Maelan, but I’d rather not have others know my name… Cat is perfect.”
Sorcha tilted her head, considering the name.
Maelan. She nodded. “Alright, Cat. It’ll be our secret.”
Cat was already making his way toward the kitchen when he turned back. “Thank you, Sunshine.”
“Sorcha! It’s Sorcha—MAELAN!” she called after him, a grin spreading across her face.
But Cat just kept walking, calling over his shoulder, “We have work to do, Sunshine! We have to find Kyron and the Commander and get your powers under control. We can’t have you exploding fire or blinding half of us, now can we?”
Sorcha exhaled, shaking her head. She knew she didn’t have much time. Samhain was only four days away, and she would have to work harder than ever to figure it all out.
She followed Cat into the living room when a steady thud… thud… thuddd… thud… thud echoed in rhythm against the door. Kyron stepped inside, greeting them with a wide smile and a wave, holding up a bag as if it were a peace offering, as though he expected an ambush the moment he entered.
“I brought food!” he announced in a singsong voice before stepping fully inside.
The rich smell of cinnamon, sugar, spices, and freshly baked bread filled the air. Sorcha’s stomach rumbled in response, and even Cat was no better, licking his lips.
Kyron set the food on the table before walking over to Sorcha, his expression softer, more hesitant. “Are you alright? I didn’t dare come by last night after the way you walked off. I know you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry, Sorcha.”
He took her hand, his touch warm, steady. With his free hand, he brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for a moment. His gaze met hers, deep and unwavering.
“I care about you, Sorcha,” he said, his voice low and sweet. “I’m sorry that in my desire to protect you, I ended up hurting you. I can’t change that now, but I promise you I won’t hide anything from you again. Even if I don’t have all the answers myself.”
He meant it. She could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he leaned in, mere inches from her lips. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin, as heat crept up her cheeks. Sorcha’s breath caught in her throat. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple through her.
A loud, choking sound shattered the moment.
Followed by gagging. Then what could only be described as someone drowning in their own disgust.
“Please, for the love of the gods and all things Otherworldly, STOP IT!” Cat hacked violently, his body convulsing. “That was just… disgusting. Kyron, that was the best you had?”
Kyron barely had time to react before Cat dramatically gagged again, this time coughing up an actual hairball. He spat it onto the floor and glared at them.
“SEE? YOU MAKE ME SICK!”
Kyron turned a shade of red so deep it could rival the autumn leaves. Sorcha, on the other hand, lost all composure, doubling over with laughter.
“I’m sorry, Kyron—” she gasped between wheezes, clutching her stomach. “It’s Cat!”
Kyron groaned, rubbing a hand over his flushed face while Cat smugly licked his paw, looking far too pleased with himself.
Still grinning, Sorcha took a deep breath, finally regaining control. “I accept your apology, Kyron. Now, let’s eat.”
They sat to eat, giving Cat his own small mound of food of his choosing, before diving into a discussion about Commander Nethran, the Circle, and everything Sorcha needed to know before entering the Veil.
The conversation was heavy, but Cat kept it from becoming too serious with his snarky remarks and ever growing confidence in giving unsolicited advice.
Eventually, their talk boiled down to three key points:
Sorcha needed to gain better control of her power, working with someone who could teach her how to harness and manipulate it properly.
They needed to convince some of her friends to follow her to Samhain, she would need protection during their descent into the Veil.
They had to prepare to survive in the Otherworld… somehow
Once they finished eating, they all filed out the door and made their way to Commander Nethran’s office at the Druid School.
Nethran looked fatigued, deep shadows bruising the skin beneath his eyes, exhaustion etched into every line of his face.
It was clear he hadn’t slept. He hovered over stacks of books and scrolls, looking older than the building itself.
His bloodshot gaze lifted when Sorcha entered, and he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples before exhaling heavily.
“Glad to see your encounter hasn’t slowed you down,” he said, his eyes flickering briefly to her side before returning to her face.
“I know we need to talk, but I need coffee and some food.” He stood abruptly, already heading for the door.
“Wait here. Read through these scrolls. I’ll be back soon.
” Without another word, he shut the door behind him.
Sorcha turned to Kyron. “That was weird, right?” Kyron nodded, his gaze drifting over the disaster that was Nethran’s desk. Papers were scattered everywhere, as if a small tornado had torn through the room.
“I’m not sure what that was about,” Kyron muttered, stepping closer to the mess, “but it looks like he was doing some serious research… maybe he found something.”
Sorcha and Cat lingered by the door, watching as Kyron sifted through the documents.
Then, something caught Cat’s attention. In the corner of Nethran’s desk lay an ornate scroll, its edges gold and green, covered in a script Sorcha didn’t recognize.
But Kyron and Cat did. With incredible grace, Cat leaped onto the desk, landing as softly as a feather, not disturbing a single page.
He walked over delicately, his silver eyes flickering as he pawed at the scroll, rolling out the parchment.
His gaze widened. The silver in his irises churned violently as he read.
He suddenly stopped and looked at Sorcha.
“I have a good idea why he needed a break.” Kyron and Sorcha exchanged glances before turning back to Cat, who seemed…
tense. “This,” Cat continued, his voice unusually serious, “is a recorded account of the Veil. A detailed list of creatures, gods, the Tuatha Dé Danann, even a map.” He flicked his tail, his eyes scanning the words again. “And this was written by a Fae.”
Sorcha stiffened.
“This is Fae script. It’s old. And this was not shared easily…
” Cat’s voice dropped lower, the weight of his words settling into the room.
“There isn’t a creature in existence that would willingly give up this information…
unless…” His silver eyes darkened, his expression distant, lost in thought.
“Unless it was trapped.” A cold prickle ran down Sorcha’s spine.
“It would have taken someone very clever to bind a Fae,” Cat murmured.
“By bargain, iron.“ His voice faltered. His eyes darted to Sorcha. “Or by name.”
“There are many secrets to trapping the Fae,” Cat continued. “Luckily, this doesn’t list all of them. But it gives you enough, Sorcha. Enough to know what we’re up against. Enough to guide you.”
He pawed the scroll completely open, revealing a parchment inscribed with a map generalized, yet marked with specific locations to avoid. It also detailed how to fight the wraiths, witches, and fairies they would encounter.
Cat read aloud the materials they would need for protection: “Iron, holy water, blessed objects, rowan wood, red thread, salt, and fire.”