9. Chapter 9
9
T hat single word hung in the air like a freshly cast spell, with all the weight and unbelievable finality with which Rebecca had intended it.
The ensuing silence in the Council assembly and within the trailer carried a deafening oppression, and in her periphery, Rebecca noticed Rowan gaping at her in utter bafflement.
Rowan Blackmoon didn’t gape.
Good.
She’d just told the Council to go fuck themselves, and somehow, they were still surprised by it.
For the first time in her life, she’d openly defied their wishes without hidden meaning or room for pompous reinterpretation.
For the first time in her life, she had delivered a response with all the authority she possessed, on Earth or in Xahar’áhsh—a response that carried this measure of weight and significance—without immediately wondering if she should have just kept her mouth shut.
Then all hell broke loose.
“ Blackmoon !” Randor roared.
The others chimed in with an outpouring of unquenchable fury.
“You assured the success of this undertaking. You gave your word!”
“This is an outrage!”
“How dare you defy this Court!”
“Such insolence will doom us all!”
The voices crashed through the assembly, echoing and clamoring to be heard over the roar of everyone else’s seething frenzy. The resulting uproar was so suddenly powerful and all at once, the mirror’s glass trembled in its frame.
Through the whole thing, Rebecca held her head high, maintaining all the presence and authority her role as the Bloodshadow Heir demanded. Using it in a way she had never dared use it before.
Because now, for the first time in a long time, she knew in her bones she had made the right decision.
The Council’s desperate raging against her response seemed to last forever. Even still, none of them dared end the call.
Apparently, the Council still wasn’t finished with her, but whatever they might try next to change her mind wouldn’t work.
Rebecca turned her hard, steady gaze onto Torosh to find the silver-haired elder slumped back in his chair, his eyes closed as if he’d fallen asleep.
Or as if the enormous weight of knowledge and inevitability had finally settled into his awareness, and his only remaining option was to accept the truth for what it was.
Even then, she thought she caught the tiniest ghost of a smile on his aged lips.
If it had been anyone else, she might have called it a pained grimace. But she knew Torosh, just like she knew the six other Council members exploding with fury in their seats.
He was one of only two among them who hadn’t uttered a word.
The second was Maleine, who sat rigidly upright in her chair, cheeks flushed with fury as she silently raged. Rebecca might not have noticed the woman’s trembling if it hadn’t been visible in the constant vibrating twinkle of all her gemstone-laden jewelry beneath the assembly’s magical lights.
When the outrage finally died down, no one on the Council would look Rebecca in the eye. Instead, they focused their collective wrath solely on their only remaining target.
“Blackmoon,” Randor boomed again, his voice louder than ever as he glared at Rowan. The slight creaking of his chair echoed across the assembly with his words. “The only reason you were granted sole charge of this task is because you assured the Council you would succeed.”
“And I have been,” Rowan replied. “I found her. And if it weren’t for me, this meeting never would have—”
“If it weren’t for you ,” Maleine cut in, her voice rising in pitch with every word despite its volume never changing, “the Heir would have learned her place and accepted her duty long ago! Without question. You have been too soft on her, Blackmoon. This Council has been too soft on you .”
Rowan cocked his head in surprise. “If I may have but a moment to—”
“You may not!” she shrieked, the force of her outburst nearly lifting her from her seat. “The Scion has failed, and this failure will be dealt with accordingly upon your return.”
Rebecca snuck a quick sidelong glance at the Blackmoon Elf beside her, who remained perfectly still on his knees, revealing no visible reaction for the Council to note and later use against him.
But what they also couldn’t see were his fists clenched at his sides, one of them tightening around his end of the coupling ribbon and the other dripping again with a fresh flow of blood now pooling at his side on the dust-caked floor.
He really hadn’t expected the Council to blame anyone else for Rebecca’s defiance, had he? Least of all himself.
He should never have put so much faith in them in her absence.
Served him right.
“In light of your fruitless endeavors,” Maleine continued, “by the authority of the Bloodshadow Court and the Agn’a Tha’ros Clans, this Council hereby orders both of you to return to Agn’a Tha’ros at once to fulfill your duties to its people.
“Our previous offer of aid and protection is hereby rescinded. All other parties within the capitol will be immediately instructed to block any further contact. Any form of aid or succor bestowed upon the Blackmoon Scion or the Bloodshadow Heir, in defiance of this decree, will render the offending party an enemy of the Court.
“Do not attempt to sway this Council or any other, Blackmoon. Your usefulness has run its course. The next time I see you, it will be here, within this assembly. I recommend, for your sake, you do not fail us a second time.”
Then, with a flick of her hand and the tinkle of all her dripping bracelets winking beneath the assembly’s lights alongside the plethora of rings adorning her fingers, the Head of Agn’a Tha’ros’s Bloodshadow Court severed the connection.
The view through the mirror went instantly dark, and the next second, the glassy, reflective surface returned to its original state, now streaked with the blood of two Agn’a Tha’ros elves on Earth.
Two elves who’d been all but spurned and excommunicated from the second highest seat of their people’s power in an entirely different world.
Then it was over.
Rebecca glanced down at the end of the ancestor braid still clutched in her hand. The glow of her and Rowan’s combined magic had disappeared, the intensity of the spell now gone from the rope of braided elven hair strung through the teeth and bones of their dead. The rare power of their ritual no longer surged into her arm from the end of the coupling ribbon.
For some reason, though, she couldn’t yet bring herself to release her grip on one of the most important magical objects for the spell they’d achieved.
The ritual casting had been successful, beyond a shadow of a doubt, but the ensuing conversation it had produced was anything but.
For Rowan, anyway. And for the Council.
Rebecca couldn’t have cared less.
The clacking rattle of teeth and bones beside her preceded the whispering thump against the floor when Rowan dropped his end of the braid before turning his head to glare at her. “Are you happy now?”
“ Happy isn’t really the word I would use,” she muttered, “but I can’t deny that went a lot better than I’d expected.”
With a snort, he pulled his wounded hand into his lap, wrapped it in the hem of the elven-made tunic he now wore beneath his Agn’a Tha’ros armor—which certainly completed his costume of commanding Elven Warlord on Earth. Slowly shaking his head, he pretended to focus on staunching the flow of blood from his palm after he’d squeezed the wound open again.
Rebecca could have healed him if she’d wanted. She would have offered under different circumstances, before Rowan had proven himself her enemy with his gut-wrenching betrayal and countless misguided attempts to coerce her into appeasing the Council and returning home with him.
He no longer deserved the benefits of having the Bloodshadow Heir as a friend.
At this point, Rebecca was all but convinced they weren’t even friends anymore, by any definition.
This meeting hadn’t been a complete waste of time after all.
Because now she knew w here Rowan’s loyalties truly lay.
“You didn’t come looking for me for Agn’a Tha’ros,” she said, studying his profile as realization dawned. “You didn’t do it for the prophecy or our people. Not because you wanted to find me. You didn’t even do it for me .”
He pressed his tunic more firmly against his hand and wouldn’t look up from his lap to meet her gaze. “You learn how to read minds too over the last few hundred years?”
“You did it for them . Not even to gain favor. They ordered you to come, and like a good little tool of the kingdom, you jumped to attention and didn’t even think to consider how this would actually pan out.”
“You say this like you have everything figured out,” Rowan grumbled, still refusing to look at her. “But I promise you, you don’t know everything. Still.”
“What exactly did Maleine offer you in reward for your unwavering dedication and service?” Rebecca spat.
The spite growing inside her dripped from her words as the full scope of Rowan’s indoctrination by the Court revealed itself one detail at a time, painting a new picture in her mind she never would have entertained or even believed if she hadn’t just witnessed it in that meeting or heard the words from the Council Head’s lips.
“More power than the Blackmoon Sion could hope to gain on his own?” she asked. “In union with the Council, maybe? She wouldn’t have offered you her own fucking seat, but I wouldn’t put it past her to kick Lady Haren or even Randor out of theirs to offer you a cozy little spot…”
She snorted. “Maybe that’s it. A new place at the right hand of the Council’s full power. It’s a tempting offer for anyone. I just didn’t think you were stupid enough to believe she’d actually hold up her end of that deal, let alone that you’d be successful in the mission you accepted from the fucking Council !”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Rowan’s shout ricocheted around the trailer before he finally turned to meet her gaze, his eyes blazing with indignation, anger, and what looked like fear. All of it burning within hazel irises flecked with gold. “There was no such offer. I volunteered. And, by the way, it was for you.”
“Oh really?” Rebecca let out a bitter laugh. “Well you’ve done a real bang-up fucking job of it, haven’t you? If you’re expecting a thank you, you’re not getting one. Every single disaster I’m dealing with right now is because of you and your fucking mission for the Court. You want acknowledgement and credit? Fine.
“All of this?” She gestured toward the trailer and everything captured beneath the dome with a sharp sweep of her hand. “ You fucking did this !”
“And you just put the final nail in both our coffins!”
Despite knowing he’d been on Earth for several months—possibly several more before he’d narrowed his search to Chicago and finally found her—hearing that very Earthside saying spewing from Rowan’s lips in anger stunned her into momentary silence.
That saying from anyone else in her new life would have been perfectly natural. Coming from him, on the heels of another disastrously inflammatory meeting with the Bloodshadow Council…
Rebecca’s two worlds were certainly colliding now, if they hadn’t been already, that much was certain. The shockwave it produced made everything feel backward and upside down.
With a heavy sigh, Rowan ignored all the spell reagents around him within the casting circle, abandoned his half-hearted ministrations to his sliced-open hand, and dipped his head to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I keep forgetting how long you’ve been here. So I guess it makes sense I’d have to spell it out for you now.”
He gestured toward the blood-streaked mirror with a jerk of his open hand. “ That was our last chance. No other option. No Plan B.”
Rebecca flashed him a cold, twisted smile. “There’s always a Plan B with you.”
“ Múrg dah’lás , that was the Plan B! You just blew it all to shit for your fucking pride.”
“ My pride? You set your Hakalini’ir on my task force! You beat two people to bloody pulps to cover up your failures. You led us here into a deadly trap, imprisoned us behind a magical wall, and offered me an impossible decision while pretending to give a shit about what happens to any of us!
“I agreed to do this with you because you said it was the only way to keep my operatives safe and to keep the Council off our backs. I did not agree to sing your praises or keep playing the Council’s dutiful little lapdog, Rowan. You knew how that would turn out.”
A disbelieving huff burst from his lips, his fiery glare unwavering.
“For all your talk of wanting to keep these strangers safe despite the fact that you owe them nothing ,” he spat, “you didn’t seem all that concerned about sealing their fates with that performance.”
“Well if anyone can recognize a good performance, it’s you.”
Hissing and shaking his head, Rowan pushed himself to his feet and stormed out of the casting circle, scattering spell reagents with his boots as he stomped away.
“And you’re the stranger here,” Rebecca shouted after him, following him with her gaze without rising off the floor. Not just yet. “The Rowan Blackmoon I knew would never have betrayed me like this. He never would have turned against himself . But now? Múrg dah’lás , you’re playing right into their hands.”
She swallowed the sickening lump rising in her throat before her voice darkened. “Whoever you are, I don’t fucking know you—”
“ Everything I’ve done has been for you and no one else!” he roared, whirling to face her, fire blazing behind his hazel eyes. Then he stabbed a finger toward the back of the mirror propped against the side of the desk. “Including that. It was supposed to buy you some time. But I guess I was an idiot to think you’d play the game and pretend to give in, just a little, so they’d stay away. You demolished it with a single word! My mistake.”
“Yes,” Rebecca added flatly. “It is. All of it. And you’re right. You are an idiot. You actually thought they would hold up their end of whatever agreement they offered you—”
“I already told you I volunteered! There was no offer. I went to them and proposed retrieving you myself.”
Another bitter laugh escaped her. “ Retrieve me. Do you hear yourself?”
“Because that was the only thing they wanted! If I hadn’t gone, if I hadn’t taken a stand to come after you myself, they would have sent someone else. Like Gazen and whatever new army he’s building himself these days. Or Horál. And there were rumors , Rebecca…”
Rowan paused as if to gather his thoughts, turning away from her before quickly spinning back to finish what he’d started, lowering his voice as if there was anyone else around to overhear them.
Just Maxwell, standing between the desk and the door, remaining perfectly still and characteristically silent, witnessing this entire train wreck with no idea what any of it meant.
She almost could have forgotten the shifter’s presence entirely if it weren’t for their connection and the ever-present sensation of him with her in the room. Or the wary, dedicated readiness with which he watched this new argument unfold.
Rebecca felt all of it radiating toward her from Maxwell. When this was over, she’d have a hell of a time trying to explain the lunacy to which he now stood witness.
“Do you seriously think any rumors from that place have the slightest power here?” she asked coldly, frowning as Rowan spun back toward her.
“Rumors that the Council wanted to send Theodil after you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that the Court would agree.”
Rebecca stared at the Blackmoon Elf she no longer recognized, then scoffed and finally pushed herself to her feet. “And there’s the last bit of proof that you’ve been completely taken in by their bullshit. The fact that it scared you.”
“Because I know what Theodil would do to you if they actually used him as a last resort,” Rowan insisted. “He’s practically a god…”
“In Agn’a Tha’ros? Absolutely. Maybe even across all of Xahar’áhsh, who knows? But here ? Theodil wouldn’t know the first thing about what it takes to track someone in this world. And by now, I promise you, he’s too old to learn any new tricks.”
“But what if he—”
“Well we’ll never get the chance to find out, will we?” she shouted. “Because you bent over backwards for the job you thought you could actually handle, and now look where we are!”
“Blue Hells,” he groaned. “Do you ever stop? I mean, really, what’s it gonna take for you to pull your head out of your ass and see that all the odds are stacked against you and always have been? After the show you put on for them, the Council’s gonna bring everything they have down on your head once they realize you’re still refusing to follow direct orders from Maleine.”
A smirk broke past her defenses at the thought. “They shouldn’t be surprised by it. The Council only expects me to obey because I’ve never defied them.”
“ No one has!”
“Well it’s about fucking time someone did, don’t you think?”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Rowan shouted, spinning out of his pacing to face her. “Maybe that’s because I haven’t made it clear enough. So let me paint a very clear picture for you right now.”
His eyes flashed with rage as he stormed toward her. The flashing black unlight of Rowan’s magic illuminated in his open palm, as if he actually meant to conjure an attack.
As if he actually meant to use it against her.