Chapter 26 #2
“Soren and I agree that you should start training with a team immediately,” Ezra spoke again. “You need to be able to defend yourself if there’s an attack.”
I saw him lean back in his chair out of the corner of my eye, but I still couldn’t turn away from Soren and the intensity of his gaze. It felt as though he wanted to absorb me into the dark abyss of his eyes, never let me out, and drown me in his shadows.
And it seemed as if I weren’t entirely opposed to the idea.
“This is no longer an issue of whether or not you want to fulfill your role as Daughter of the Scepter.” The tight tone in Ezra’s voice finally broke the spell, and I shifted my attention back to him.
“Your quest for revenge doesn’t matter. There is no getting back into The Tower.
It’s not a simple matter of security that has every Mod in existence on the lookout for your face.
It’s about you. He wants you. You are now being actively hunted by the Dark One. ”
I laughed.
It came out strained. Croaky. And chock-full of contempt.
But there was nothing funny about the hollow sound echoing in my bones.
“Um, o-kay,” I said in three distinct syllables.
I stood and turned fully to Soren.
He was watching Ezra now, no longer leaning.
“You’ve all kidnapped me, imprisoned me, insulted me, bullied me, threatened me, and even injured me,” I said. “And now you want me to give up on everything I’ve worked for and trust you to keep me safe from your imaginary—”
“You have no idea how important you are,” Soren cut in.
Three steps. That’s all it took for him to cross the space between us.
I tried to back away, but he grabbed my elbow.
“I already told you!” he roared. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Soren,” Ezra said sharply, standing. “Give her some space, son.”
Soren’s grip loosened, but he didn’t move away. He just breathed at me, prowling without moving an inch.
“And, Eliana,” Ezra added, voice more measured, “Soren and I both only want to protect you.”
He paused.
“You will get answers about Azazel, but they may not be what you expect. Azazel is just a puppet, and everything he does is for the Founder. We believe,” he looked to Soren, who nodded, “That the Dark One is controlling the Founder. There’s a very good chance that the one you want revenge on is the one who is hunting you right now.
” Ezra moved back to his chair and reclined, blowing out a huff of air. “So, let us help you.”
I inched away from Soren.
This time, he let me.
“And what if I refuse?” I asked. “Are you all going to hold me captive here, or can I walk out any time I want? Do I have any free will in this?”
“You do, and you can,” Ezra said slowly. He began sorting through a stack of papers on his desk. “But we might be the only ones within a hundred miles who don’t want you dead.”
My throat shut. The impact of his words made my stomach flip.
That’s not true.
Astrid.
Zade.
Yu Ting.
Even Barrister.
They would never turn their backs on me.
“These people don’t even care about you,” something hissed. “They just want you to do their bidding.”
Ezra carried on while I tried to form a coherent response.
“You’ll meet with Mermidon and your training team at the Neutral Training Grounds after lunch.
We’ve already selected your teammates. Their top priority will be protecting you and Chapel.
We will evaluate a timeline for neutralizing the Founder and Azazel on a future date.
You should go finish your breakfast and check over the training schedule.
It will be delivered to your room along with some other items.”
Was I supposed to be happy? Give a little jig?
This was what I had been waiting for.
Weapons. Training. Answers.
I was finally going to be able to do something about all of this. No more sitting around and waiting.
But nausea triumphed in the end.
My half-eaten egg churned in my stomach and edged up my esophagus.
They’d just made it clear that my goals were not theirs. Not really. They couldn’t care less if I avenged my mother, avenged myself. They needed me to do their bidding and bring back their Anointed.
I glanced between Ezra and Soren.
Both of them watched me like I’d already agreed, waiting for me to follow directions and get on with it.
I’d play their game only long enough to get the Jonathon bow and get to Azazel. His death would release me. If they wanted to use me, I’d use them better.
I growled under my breath and turned on my heels to head for the door, but then Ezra’s chair scraped against the floor, and he called out to me.
“One more thing, Eliana. This is for you.”
I only half-turned back to him, expecting to see The Knowing Tree book.
But instead, dangling from his knobby fingers was a gold chain.
And at the end of the chain, a golden scepter.
I stepped closer as Ezra rounded the desk and met me halfway. He dropped the necklace into my open palm.
The pendant was identical to the scepter mark on my chest.
Smaller in size and lacking branches, but otherwise a twin.
“This was given to me by a dear friend a few years ago,” Ezra explained. “Marjorie said she was keeping it safe for her best friend’s granddaughter.”
I let it dangle, pinched between my thumb and forefinger.
Ribbons of light reflected off the intricately carved staff. The ends of the beam twisted in elegant loops. Twelve tiny gemstones—each a different color—were embedded along the face. The back was smooth, solid gold except for a shallow octagonal indentation in the center.
“This is from my grandmother?” I asked, still not looking up.
A flash of her portrait in the armory fired through my mind.
Had she been wearing this necklace in the painting?
I hadn’t noticed it before. But I hadn’t looked very closely, either.
“She always planned for you to have it,” Ezra said. “It’s been passed down in your family for centuries. You may not remember it, but you’ve actually worn it before.”
“So, what am I supposed to do with this?” I asked, my voice low and frayed with exhaustion despite having only been awake for about an hour.
“You’re the Daughter,” Soren answered before Ezra could. “Not us. You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”
I grumbled a curse under my breath, closed my fingers tightly around the necklace, and turned on my heel.
My footsteps echoed against the tiles as I walked out of the office with every intention of going back to my room and doing something reckless, like researching how to reactivate my Visex or where to find quicksilver arrowheads.
I’d barely reached the rotunda when I heard the shouting.
Voices cried out from the other side of the Wall of Calling. Others rushed past me and around the golden cylinder to see the commotion and be a part of something.
“Eliana!” Salah’s voice rang out from the crowd as she barreled toward me. “It’s your name!”
“What?” I blinked, barely managing the word.
Salah didn’t stop. She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the chaos.
A crowd had gathered at the far end of the rotunda, where the curved marble hallway branched into the L-Block. They were packed in tight, craning their necks to see something ahead.
Something glowing.
My heart stalled.
My name on the Wall of Calling?
Salah shoved through the outer ring. A few people glared, ready to push back—until they saw who she had with her.
Me.
And suddenly the crowd parted.
I saw the glow first.
Amber-gold and flickering. Then tendrils of black-and-white smoke curled upward, scented with sandalwood.
Gasps replaced chatter.
We pushed forward until we stood two rows from the front.
Then the flame vanished.
Gone.
The wall came into view, and the crowd fell silent.
Salah pulled me through the last line of bodies.
We emerged behind Riaan, Zuri, and the girl with the dark hair and nails who had clawed into Marigold’s scalp at dinner the night before.
They took one look at me and stepped aside.
Expecting to see scorch marks or other signs of fire damage, I was greeted with something else entirely.
Letters.
There, in an enormous script that dwarfed all the other names on the wall, was my name.
Someone had carved it into the wall. Carving would be too barbaric a description. Etched? Engraved? Enshrined?
Eliana Glory Kai Xin Chapman-Chen
Below it, in slightly smaller text:
The Final Daughter of the Scepter
I stared, still and unmoving, unblinking, unthinking.
Not breathing and with even my pulse taking enough notice to slow to a near halt, I studied the curve of my name gleaming in gold on the Wall of Calling.
There it was, alongside names of women who had been charged with the responsibility of saving the world, given a destiny far greater than themselves.
Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.