“Disney movies,” I mutter.

“Ah yes. The unsubtle propaganda of ball gowns and charming princes.” The slight scorn in his voice draws my eyes back to his. He swallows it away, a small, resigned smile crossing his face, but he can’t hide his feelings about Nick. He never could. “When I saw you enter, I thought you’d come to say goodbye.”

“I did.”

“If that’s your wish.”

I tilt my head and examine his face for humor but find none. “You should be happy. You’ve spent every waking second here trying to get me to leave.”

He holds my gaze for a long moment. “Not every second.”

It’s suddenly hard to breathe. I look away. “I have a question.”

Sel dips me without warning, sending my stomach into my throat. “I’m listening,” he purrs, then pulls me back up with ease. Once I’m upright, I glare at him, but he just smirks.

“Can you use aether to manipulate existing objects?”

His dark eyebrows rise into his hairline. “Have a sudden interest in aether theory, do you?”

“Indulge me.”

“Ask nicely.”

I roll my eyes. “Please.”

He spins me once before he responds, mouth quirked while he makes me wait.

“Theoretically, one could attach an aether construct to an existing material object, or cover the object like a cloak with raw, unformed mage flame, but this would only last temporarily. As with my constructs in the scavenger hunt, the caster would need to maintain the attachment with ongoing attention.”

“And how long can a caster keep their attention on an object?”

“Anything more than five, maybe six hours results in a splitting headache, even for a Master. Would not recommend. Why?”

Six hours isn’t the answer I was looking for. I didn’t have the Sight before my mother died, so for all I know, the aether attached to her bracelet had always been there, hidden from me until her death gave me the ability to See it.

Sel squeezes my fingers to bring my attention back to him. “Why…?”

“What would you say if I told you I have something of my mother’s that has aether attached to it, and that that aether had been on that object or in it for… several months at least? Maybe longer. Maybe years. And when I touched that object, it unlocked a memory.”

Sel blinks. “I would say that’s impossible. That any Merlin sustaining a single casting for that long would die from the effort. To ‘lock’ a memory so that it requires an aether key to open…? That’s precision mesmerwork I’ve never heard of.” The warm pinprick of his gaze dances over my cheeks, mouth, throat. “But then… I would say that everything about you seems to defy reason as a matter of course.”