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AVERY

T he first thing my father did was to shoo away my coven mates.

“Could we have a little privacy?” he asked them. “I need to talk to my son.”

The three of them exchanged glances and I could tell they didn’t like it, but there wasn’t really any way to refuse. After all, he was my father—it wasn’t like he was going to hurt me. Right?

“We’ll come back later to check on you,” Megan promised as they filed out.

“Get well and be strong,” Emma ordered.

“Ari will go back to the Sky Lands soon.” Kaitlyn squeezed my hand.

Then they were gone and I was alone with my father for the first time in years. Yes, literally—because I usually made sure my mom was there to keep the peace between us if I knew he was going to be around. Also, he generally avoided me like the plague.

I was truly surprised to see him here. I wouldn’t have expected him to care that I was at death’s doorstep—or had been before the Healer got hold of me.

“Did you hear that I was injured?” I asked neutrally, trying to keep my face blank.

“No, but when I came here to ask for you this is where they sent me.” He was keeping a calm facade too.

Neither of us was talking about our last encounter when he had basically disowned me after shoving my mom like some crude Neanderthal.

And if you think it sounds like I was feeling hateful towards my own father, congratulations—you’re absolutely right.

“Well, here I am,” I said, shrugging. I was getting tired of him just standing there, staring at me. “What do you want?”

“What I want is to fix you, son.” He gave me a serious look which I had a hard time interpreting.

“Well…thanks but I’ll be okay,” I said, frowning. “The Healer had to give me a few blood transfusion charms but I’m healing up just fine so?—”

“No—that’s not the part I need to fix.”

He leaned over me, staring into my eyes. The expression on his face was so intense it was almost frightening.

“Uh, Dad—you’re making me uncomfortable,” I said, and I was practically squirming in the bed.

I wished he wasn’t so much bigger than me—he always made me feel like a little kid again when he got too close.

I felt like the same six-year-old who had used my magic needle for the first time and disappointed him so bitterly.

“I’m going to fix you, son,” he said again and I saw that he was reaching into his pocket.

He withdrew a plain white envelope and opened it.

He reached inside and pinched his fingers together, like he was gathering something—or maybe a lot of little somethings.

When he withdrew his hand, he began sprinkling whatever it was all over me.

“Hey—what are you doing?” I demanded, watching him warily. The stuff he was sprinkling looked kind of like silver glitter.

My father didn’t answer, he was too busy muttering something under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like a spell.

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “What?—?”

But the words died on my lips. Something was changing. It felt like an invisible, magic shell was forming around my body. I didn’t know what it was supposed to do to me but it felt wrong.

“Stop it!” I exclaimed, but my father kept on going, muttering and sprinkling the silver glitter all over me. And everywhere it touched, I felt the magic shell growing.

I tried to sit up, but again, I was too weak. Everything about me felt wrong and I had never felt so helpless.

“Please, help!” I cried, but my voice was so thin I was sure no one heard it—it sounded like no more than a whisper in my own ears.

At last, my father seemed satisfied because he stopped sprinkling and muttering over me. He gave a final nod, as though he was satisfied with whatever he’d done.

“There,” he remarked. “That ought to fix you. Contact me when you wake up.”

“When I wake up?” I protested. “But I’m not even tired. I’m not?—”

“Sleep.” He waved one big hand over me and at once I felt lethargy seeping into my bones. Have I mentioned that my father is an incredibly powerful Warlock? Though I had never seen the kind of magic he’d performed tonight, whatever it was, it was certainly effective.

“What…did you do…to me?” I asked and couldn’t stop myself from yawning.

“I made you a proper man,” he answered, frowning at me. “The next time three pretty girls come to visit you, you’re going to take an actual interest in them.”

“Of course…” I yawned again. My eyelids were drooping but I was fighting his sleep spell. “Of course I’m interested in them. They’re…my coven mates.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” My father frowned. “Never mind. My spell will fix everything that’s wrong with you. It’s going to put you right. I just wish your mother would have let me do this earlier.”

“Do…what?” By this time I was yawning so hard I was seeing double. I could feel sleep tugging at me but still I tried to fight it. “What…did you…do?” I asked him drowsily.

But he only smiled—not a very nice smile—and nodded at me.

“You’ll see. You’re going to thank me for this, son.”

And then my eyelids closed as I fell into the magical slumber he had cast on me.