The Angel's Fall (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 6)

The Angel's Fall (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 6) by Katherine Sparrow Read Free Book Online

Book: The Angel's Fall (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 6) by Katherine Sparrow Read Free Book Online
Authors: Katherine Sparrow
love,” I repeated to the wizard, and at that moment my own luck bloomed, for my spell worked, and I was transported away.

 
     
     
     
     
    7
    You Have to be You
    The spell led me to my heart, and I materialized in front of Lila.
    Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
    I stood in a bedroom with a large white bed set against a wall with a thick glass window. Sunlight streamed in. Posters for ugly-looking metal bands were tacked to the wall, and magic books lay strewn across the bed, opened and earmarked. Black clothes erupted from a small wooden dresser.
    Before she could do anything, I said, “ ailadrodd” and touched a strand of spelled lichen braided through a lock of my hair.
    It was another spell that had taken much too long to make. One that would loop five seconds of time together, again and again, until it broke. The spell had one use only: it would buy me time to speak with Lila.
    The time spell fizzed and pulsed as it surrounded us with a gentle yellow light, adding to the room's warm glow. As soon as I counted to five and nothing interrupted us, I relaxed. If nothing burst in on us in the first loop of time, then it wouldn’t. We were safe here. Well, safe from any outside intrusions. But would I be safe with Lila?
    In all my days, I’d never met or even heard of a half-goddess and half-Marid. What was she, truly? I needed first and foremost to know that answer, before I decided whether or not I could rescue her. Was she still the Lila I loved?
    I stared at her as my heart beat like a fluttering bird trapped within a small cage. The compulsion spell within me flared, and a wild desire to grab her and take her out of Hell screamed through me. But it wasn’t time. Not yet. I breathed through the forceful spell until it faded to a dull roar.
    Lila watched me from the center of the bed. She pulled her long legs up to her chest. A thin band of blue magic circled her wrist and connected to a line of magic that ran along the ground and out the door. I stared at it and was able to divine little about it except that it was made of Marid magic and looked similar to her father’s powers. I had no ability to fight his magic, and knew it would likely be the same with Lila.
    She noticed me looking at what was likely her leash, and hid her hand in her lap. I studied the rest of her. She wore the same kind of clothes the Lila I had known would have worn: skinny black jeans, a torn t-shirt that read Wicked Witch across the chest, and scuffed combat boots. My gaze lingered on her get-up, not quite willing to look at her face. Her blue face.
    Lila breathed in deeply. The sound echoed through the room, much louder than any human’s. She raised one hand, fluttering her fingers through the air. “I like the feel and taste of your time spell,” she said softly. “It has this essence that I could never replicate. You really are here, aren't you? Things have been a bit wobbly. I’ve been… imagining things. Things that I wished were true, you know?”
    “You've been imagining me coming and rescuing you,” I said. My mouth was dry. My voice was a cracked whisper.
    She nodded and put her chin on her knees. “Childish, I know.”
    “Nothing of the sort. I have been working to get to you, ever since you disappeared.”
    She looked away. “Then why did it take you so long to get here?” “The door was closed,” I explained. What had being in Hell done to her? What had the time it took me to get here cost her? “It disappeared.”
    “Weird.” Her voice, though it contained lower notes, still sounded like Lila's. And her intonation, and the way she cocked her head to the side and fidgeted: it was all Lila.
    Mimicry or real? I wondered as she bit her lip and drummed her fingers against her white bedspread.
    I glanced around for clues. The book nearest to her was Caliban and the Witch , a history book I'd long ago told her she should read, and which she had stubbornly avoided. A tarot deck sat on her nightstand with the

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