Chapter 27
Maeve touched the Dread Ring on her finger. Mal’s Magic was deliciously stronger than ever. The locket around her neck kept her attention on him and his sultry gaze as Abraxas laid out the Double O and The Committee’s reaction to the abduction of Orator Moon.
“Vaukore has been turned into a refugee center,” said Abraxas, gathering the papers before him and straightening them with a clack on the table. “Doggbind is there, with hundreds of Magical families, and a vast majority of his remaining Bellator.”
“I’m sorry,” said Maeve. “Did you say refugee center?”
Abraxas slid a tan flyer towards her. She pulled it close.
BY ORDER OF THE PREMIER
ALL MAGICALS ARE TO EVACUATE TO REFUGEE CENTER:
THE UNHINGED AND FALSE PRINCE, MALACHITE PEUR, HAS ATTACKED EARTH. ORATOR MOON WAS TAKEN PRISONER AND IS PRESUMED DEAD. THE ORATOR’S OFFICE FEARS PEUR WILL RETURN AND WILL NOT BE SATISFIED UNTIL EACH MAGICAL ON EARTH IS TAKEN TO THE DREAD LANDS TO BE SACRIFICED TO THE DARKNESS. VAUKORE ACADEMY OF ENCHANTMENT HAS BEEN DESIGNATED AS THE PLACE OF PROTECTION BY YOUR PREMIER AND THE MAGICAL MILITIA.
NO MAGICAL SHALL REMAIN ON EARTH BY ORDER OF PREMIER DOGGBIND.
YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO EVACUATE BY MIDNIGHT.
Maeve looked to Mal. Abraxas continued.
“The Committee and the rest of the Orator’s Office are there,” he said. “They are hiding behind thousands of citizens and children in hopes we will not attack them there.”
“Shame,” sniggered Roswyn.
“Make no mistake,” said Mal, his eyes peeling away from Maeve, “not a single innocent dies. I will not make orphans out of these Magicals that have been lied to and used as a shield.”
Roswyn’s smile faded.
“Does Moon know about the Dread Stone or Spellbook?” Asked Abraxas.
“No,” said Mal. “Not the faintest idea.”
“That doesn’t mean someone on The Committee doesn’t,” said Abraxas. “You’ll want their secrets as well.”
“How do we get there without them knowing?” Asked Alphard, who had just returned from another trip to Aterna.
He was no closer to discovering Reeve’s secrets than she was.
Mal smiled knowingly. He looked to Maeve. “It just so happens I know a way in.”
“You’ve got to be joking me,” asked Maeve as Rowan waited for them on the other side of the secret and unknown Portal between the realms of Vaukore and The Dread Lands.
Rowan’s unreadable expression didn’t falter. “Disappointed I’m still everyone’s favorite spy, Miss Sinclair?”
Abraxas stepped forward and shook Rowan’s hand.
Maeve had never forgiven him for his negligence in leading her straight to Kietel and causing her near death.
“Sorry cousin,” said Abraxas. “The Double O still believed him in their pocket.” Abraxas smiled and reached for the former headmaster’s cheeks. He pinched them together as Maeve’s mouth fell open. “But really, he’s in my back pocket.”
Rowan’s eyes slid dramatically to Abraxas with a glare. Abraxas returned his stare with a dazzling smile.
Abraxas dropped his hold and turned back towards them.
“Evening Rowan,” said Larliesl, clearing his throat.
Moon stepped through the Portal behind them, Alphard and Roswyn flanking him on either side. His wrists were no longer bound with moonstone and Elven steel. Mal’s Magic wrapped his bloodied hand stumps and gagged his mouth. Dried and fresh blood slid from his scalp, his stomach, and his arms.
Rowan looked satisfied. “Hello, Lenny.”
Moon stared down at the cave floor.
“How many are there?” Asked Mal, unconcerned with Abraxas’ games of politics. Or whatever it was.
Rowan looked to Maeve. Far more than your father ever had stationed here to protect you.”
Maeve didn’t smile. “I suppose that makes us a greater threat than Kietel and his human war ever were.”
Rowan nearly rolled his eyes, but he looked back at Mal with respect. “Doggbind knows you are coming. He just doesn’t know when. The castle is filled with Magicals. No corridor or classroom is spared.”
“They are hoping civilians get hurt,” said Abraxas plainly.
Rowan nodded.
“Arman is here with Doggbind?” Asked Mal.
“Never leaves his side,” said Rowan.
Mal smiled and extended his hand to Maeve. She placed her fingers in his palm. His lips touched down on her palm. “We do not need to be present in order to kill.”
“I will not be satisfied watching him die from behind shadows,” said Maeve.
Mal chuckled and kissed her fingers once more.
Footsteps rang from the spiraling stone stairwell that led to the small cavern in the mountains of Vaukore Island.
Hummingdoor bounced towards them, clapping his hands rapidly. He zoomed towards Mal, forgetting himself, and quickly stepped back.
“Apologies,” said Hummingdoor, bowing his head as his cheeks flushed red.
Mal smiled at the Alchemy Master. “No need, sir.”
He may have already been crowned, but Mal’s charm was so innate that it never left him.
“Larliesl,” said Hummingdoor. “My dear friend, what a welcome it is to see such a long familiar face.”
“How are the students?” Asked Larliesl.
“Fine, fine,” said Hummingdoor. “I am assuming you mean to get them off realm the same way you came?”
Mal nodded. “Those willing. The Portal to the Dread Lands is secure.”
“They may not all go willingly, my Prince,” said Hummingdoor. “The smear campaign against you is strong.”
“There are whispers,” said Rowan. “More Magicals speak up for you. They did not all come here willingly.”
“No,” said Hummingdoor, “and they are punished for it each day. The cells beneath the castle from King Primus’ day are full. Students even.”
“How will you sort those who have secretly remained on Earth for you from those who swap sides when they realize they are on the losing one?” Asked Rowan.
“I’m not concerned with that right now. They can all be sorted later.” He looked back at Maeve and smirked. “We have such an easy time detecting lies.”