Façade [Book 2] (Glamour Series)

24 | Halved Fate

Ezra stopped us when we reached a balcony railing. Below, lit dimly with street lamps, was the garden I met the old man in. He wasn't anywhere to be seen, but that was understandable as the sun was only projecting purple skies now.

"I'll understand if you don't want to talk to me, but I needed to tell you as your fiancé and as your friend."

I almost snorted; he wasn't a friend, but he wasn't my enemy either.

"Something's off. With you, that is."

"Yea, I know, my aura is 'tainted'."

"Yes, that's true, but it's something else."

"I don't have magic." The words felt surreal aloud.

"You- what?" Ezra's head shakes: "No."

"If you have something you want to say, please, tell me. I don't deal with secretive anymore."

Ezra nods, regaining himself. "There is something about you, it's hard to explain. You're actually... Your magic isn't gone. Not really, that is."

"Ok. Then, what is it?"

Ezra squints, eyes tracing on and around my body. If I couldn't tell he was trying so hard to piece something together I might not have let him stare so long. "It's..." His eyes close and white eyebrows come together worriedly. "How do I put this? Morphed? Changed? Dangerous?" His eyes open an his hands clasp together, he holds them up for me to see. Ezra's fingers are tightly wrapped around one another, and he explains further: "This is how your magic was before, right? You had your witch genes from your mother and the Necromancer genes from your father." He points with one thumb at each half of his hands. "Now, after something possessed a change in your structure you gained another body to keep your image sane. This is an ability similar to that of a shifter, accept you're not a shifter. You're a witch. Correct?"

I swallow my spit, staring intently at his stark white hands. "Yes, that's correct."

"Ok." Ezra continues: "what happens when one animal gets stronger than the other through the process of evolution?"

"They get picked off." I answer, trying to piece where he's going with this.

"Yes, the Survival of the Fittest." Ezra shakes his hands. "This is similar to what your body is doing to itself. There is a war within your body, a survival of the fittest. Your magic is evolving to compete with its other half."

"So, I'm not loosing my magic... I'm gaining a different kind?"

"Sure." Ezra purses his lips to the side. "But if one gets too strong, it will kill the other half. Which means a part of you will die with it."

"What half is dying?" I whisper, wanting him to half all the answers.

Ezra doesn't respond for a second, and finally admits: "The one you need."

I clutch the railing, the marble struck cold under my warm prints. "Ok. Thank you Ezra." I felt both a little better and a little worse at one time.

So I still had magic, but my magic was raging against itself. The Witch and the Necromancer both battling two in the same.

"No need to thank me. You would do the same for anyone else." His face falls. "There's something else, putting aside your aura, that I would like to ask you."

"Yeah?"

"You're in love him, aren't you?" The question surprised me, I knew Ezra was blunt but that was because he had no choice to do so. Now? It was pure curiosity and courage.

"Love? No, I'm not in love with anyone."

Ezra isn't convinced but nods anyway. "If you were I would call off the engagement for you." Again, he seemed to baffle me with his words. One punch after the other.

"What?" The question snuck out under my breath: disbelief corrupting my mind.

"I should let you go," Ezra give me a half smile: "this is your party after all from his truly."

He kisses my cheek, backs away, and heads into the ballroom.