Page 93 of The Mating Quest

Chapter 25

Tir na-Nog,home to the wizards of theBrehon

Drust’slaboratory

“Try not to blow yourself up,”Drustadvised.

Lacey rolled her eyes. Sometimes her mate was too blunt. “I’m not the one who said let’s experiment instead of using Xavier’sformula.”

“I know how to make coldfire,” Drustsaid.

“With your mouth and nostrils as dragon. And your hands in Skin form.” Xavier sat on a lab table, long legs dangling as he read from a hand-written book. “But not thisway.”

They were experimenting with making coldfire. Danu’s orders. The fire had to be manufactured, not from Drust orherself.

Drust and Lacey poured this and mixed that. Then Drust added a dollop moreof…

“I wouldn’t do that,” Xavieradvised.

The blue mixture began flickering a delicate flame. White flame. Lacey and Drust leaned over theircreation.

Poof! It went up in smoke, smudging Drust’s face. Lacey laughed. Xaviergrinned.

“I told you the mix was wrong.” Lacey went to pick up thebeaker.

“No, don’t touch it,” Xavierwarned.

Too late. She touched it and cried out, dropping the glass. Hot, yet it was cold,burning.

“Ow,” she moaned, holding herhand.

Drust seized her wrist. “Let mesee.”

“No, don’t touchit!”

Gently he unfurled his mate’s closed fist. Her palm wassmooth.

Drust kissed her hand. “My love, you are immortal, with my powers as well, but still thinking like a mortal that you can be hurt in Skin form. It’s in your mind.See?”

She smiled. “Guess it takes a little getting usedto.”

His worried gaze met hers. “You must be more careful, my love. I do not want anyone thinking they can harmyou.”

“I have to get used to all this power, though, and it’s noteasy.”

“It takes time,” Xavier agreed, looking at the table. “We are almost untouchable, and that is hard to reconcile when you lived as amortal.”

“And how long have you been immortal?” Lacey asked the CrystalWizard.

Xavier’s gaze grew hard. “A long time. I do not like remembering my time as a mortal because of the foolish things Idid.”

“What was your childhood like?” She leaned on the table, fascinated. She had yet to learn all the wizards’ stories of theirpast.

Some, like Caderyn, never talked of theirorigins.

He waved a hand and the smashed beaker reassembled itself. “Bleak. I was given up for adoption when I was quite young and put in an orphanage workhouse. I was not old enough to speak, and apprenticed to a cruelogre.”

He studied the floor. “I always felt a faint connection to another, perhaps it was the hope I was not alone in the world. That all my family was not dead. By now, theyare.”