TWENTY-NINE
Inside the Oaths Chamber, the Sworn Exarchs had gathered at the table with too many empty seats. Commander Gellar turned his attention to Zarek. “So, how is Angela Duboise and her progress?”
Zarek leaned back in his chair, hands clasped loosely behind his head. As far as he was concerned, her progress was extraordinary. Magnificent. Beautiful. And her depth of strength was both charming and inspiring.
She was the unknown variable of magic he didn’t think existed.
Not for souls like his, where her presence felt so familiar.
When his life had once been a long and lonely canvas hidden in the shade, and she was the shiny rainbow spilling color and light into his existence.
He had yet to understand her humor, or her otherworld terms, but underneath he was getting to understand the woman.
But he wasn’t sharing that with his peers.
“The Seers and readers have gone to her these past five days.” He kept his expression neutral. Which is how he normally was: stern and unfeeling. Until her.
“And?” Gellar prompted.
“They found nothing.” Zarek thumbed the corner of his lips to stop the irritating need to smile whenever he thought of her. “None of the wizards and mages could read her. Most of them confirmed that she is… human.”
“That’s it?” The Commander arched an eyebrow at him.
Zarek’s mouth fleetingly curved. “Not entirely.” No, Angela Duboise was far more than she was letting on.
“Go on?”
“Well, I’ve seen and felt her salt magick. But there is a passive magick I don’t think she’s aware of.” He’d only noticed while observing her and keeping up his side of their treaty of not letting anyone touch her, especially the ancient wizards during their testing.
“What does she do?” Gellar’s hand paused mid-stroke over his black beard, as the rest of the brothers listened.
“She had the wizards and some of the mages speaking at length about themselves. Answering her questions, like a lawyer would. They revealed more than they intended. Most of them did not realize until after they had left her presence that she’d made them talk.
And those with weaker minds forgot portions of the exchange entirely. ”
A murmur moved through the chamber.
“So she compels people to draw out their truths?” Bellus asked carefully.
“Somehow, Angela can influence a conversation,” Zarek corrected.
“Nothing harmful or forced like her salt magick. In fact, this compulsion of hers is done so smoothly no one notices they’re spilling all their secrets.
Willingly. Some I know didn’t want to share, and they left embarrassed.
” Where he had chuckled from the chair he’d propped up in the corner, and Angela had just shrugged, fiddling with the medallion at her neck, asking, What did I do?
And that sobered him up. “The thing is, no one has worked out what her magick is.”
“How many forms of testing have you tried?” Gellar asked.
“The witches attempted minor magicks. Containment veils. The wizards, mages, and the Seers have all tried. But nothing worked. The magic simply… dissipated.”
“All magics?” Bellus pressed.
“Everything tried so far.” But he was not letting her near the council, that was for sure.
“Zarek?” Martar shifted in his seat. “Is that because you’ve only permitted females and elderly scholars near her, those of lesser power?” Martar exhaled slowly. “You know why I’m asking.”
Zarek’s jaw tightened. “Say it.”
“We know she can withstand you and your magick,” Martar said carefully. “What if the rest of us tested our abilities against her?”
Zarek felt the Claiming rise like a heated dragon stirring beneath his ribs.
The thought of another man standing too close to her.
Watching her. Measuring her. It was enough that the staves on his suit glowed—and they had only started doing that because of the Claiming.
Before this, the only time the staves on his suit glowed was in battle as a warning to his brothers to move before he went nuclear to clear a battlefield.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you know we are the most powerful in the realm.” Gellar’s tone was matter-of-fact. “If Angela Duboise’s resistance is reactive, it may only reveal itself under greater pressure.”
“I will not have her harmed.” This time, the edge in Zarek’s voice was unmistakable as the Claiming rolled through him, building fire in his chest.
“We wouldn’t want to harm her,” Martar replied quietly. “You know we wouldn’t, because we know what she means to you.”
Helviti! By rights, this woman should mean nothing to him. Not only was it against the Accords by which he was bound, but he would not take advantage of her trust like that either. All because his magick had recognized something in her, even though no one else could find it?
“Bellus,” Zarek snapped. “Have you found a cure for this… Claiming?” He hated what it was doing to him.
Bellus shook his head. “I’m trying. But why the rush? She seems a nice lady.”
“I thought so, in my three-minute conversation with her yesterday.” Condorr shrugged his beefy shoulders, while his chair creaked beneath him.
The day Zarek had felt the heated pangs of jealousy for the first time, when Condorr had done nothing wrong. He trusted Condorr.
But what made it worse was that he’d snapped at Angela, too. The guilt he’d felt after that conversation made him skip dinner with her, even though he enjoyed those moments. But he shouldn’t. She was a guest here in Paradox for a reason. And he was just following orders.
“Fix it, so I can do my job.” Zarek pushed up from his chair and paced restlessly across the room. “So I can command without calculating proximity, to account for… distraction.”
He exhaled slowly and forced himself still. “I understand why you wish to test her further. And as a captain, I fully agree. But until we understand whether her power shields or absorbs, I have to limit her exposure.” He had to protect her, no matter the cost.
Gellar inclined his head and studied Zarek for a long moment. “Very well. In the meantime, let us test others who possess a similar kind of blocking ability to see if we can use it on the battlefield against the Black Cloaks.”
Zarek nodded and resumed his seat even though they all knew there was no one else like her. Others might block, shield, or deflect. None did it passively, or invisibly, while their own magick remained entirely undetectable. Angela Duboise was in a category that did not exist yet.
“Is there anything else troubling her?” Gellar asked.
“She wakes from nightmares.” Dropping his elbow on the table, Zarek rubbed his eyes.
“Nightmares?” Rocharde stopped fiddling with his earring.
“Angela does not remember them. Only the fear.” Zarek knew her terror too well, and how it spiked to make him bound out of bed and fly through their shared door.
Waking her, holding her hand, trying to help her calm down.
The confusion in her eyes when she woke, the sweat on her brow, and how she couldn’t remember anything except that fear.
“Obviously you feel these nightmares through her, huh?” Martar asked bluntly.
Zarek didn’t justify it with an answer.
“May I suggest a Sleep Wizard?” offered Rocharde. “I had one when I was a child.”
“Why?” Condorr asked.
“I had nightmares because I worried about not developing my power.”
“Now look at you.” Condorr grinned, playfully punching Rocharde.
“That’s a great idea. A Sleep Wizard may give answers, especially as we don’t know her magick by conventional means. It’d be worth the try.” Bellus sat higher, pushing up his glasses as if to contain his excitement. “I’d love to observe. Without intrusion, of course.”
“I will consider it.” Zarek would have to talk to Angela first, because the nightmare she had to confront might be detrimental to both of them.
“Where is Angela Duboise now?” Gellar asked.
“In Magick School. It was Bellus’s suggestion.” And it was part of their treaty.
Bellus nodded as he leaned his arms on the table and spoke to the rest of the Sworn Exarchs. “Knowledge cannot harm her. And, from what I hear, Angela Dubiose is already well-versed in the esoteric arts.”
Zarek allowed himself the smallest trace of pride to settle on his shoulders. “Her aunt taught her, and their family business sells esoteric items. Angela told me she grew up around it, even though she didn’t believe in magic.”
But she certainly believed in it now.
“That,” Gellar said while thoughtfully stroking his beard, “is interesting.”
Interesting?
Everything about Angela was more than interesting.
The gowns he’d chosen for her, the first he’d ever chosen for anyone, were stunning on her figure.
To see how the fabric moved under the lights when she entered the War Room and met his gaze, as though she refused to be diminished by the room of warriors.
The way she asked questions, not to challenge authority, but to understand and learn from the wizards testing her.
And how she listened to him on topics he’d never told a soul was deeply comforting.
Even when she didn’t say a word, her mere presence brought him a peace he’d never known.
Everything about her was fascinating. From the differing colors of her eyes, the way she’d tuck her hair behind her ears, or press her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
Even the peace she showed while asleep stirred a renewed sense of honor and duty that had nothing to do with his responsibilities of being Captain of the Vanguard or the rules of this realm that he’d lived by for centuries.
It would have been simpler if she had been fragile. Or frightened. Or resentful enough to push him away with scorn, like she was at the beginning. Tossing the word prisoner around like a hand grenade, irritated him. But he knew she was doing that to set boundaries.
Good.
But then she started adapting and chose to accept her part in their treaty to help them learn what she is. Yet none of it gave him what they needed—answers, a strategy, or a weapon they could use against Katarra.
Silence settled along the smooth walls, heavier than normal. Not even a page stirred from their Hidden Hall of Histories. They were all listening, both the living and the dead, all trying to find a solution to a problem that none of them had encountered before.
What bothered Zarek most was the growing list of things he hadn’t told Angela.
Such as the Claiming. How she could feel him, like he felt her emotions through walls and across distances—and she’d asked a few times now, while their connection deepened in ways he didn’t fully understand.
He also didn’t know if the Claiming affected his magic in her presence, suppressing it somehow, which might explain why he could touch only her.
Zarek also hadn’t told her about the compulsion he’d witnessed. How she drew secrets from ancient wizards like pulling thread from a spool, all while thinking she’d failed every test.
And there was the cost of bringing her here.
Angela knew that Katarra and the Black Cloaks were hunting for the alleged new power.
Smuggling her into Paradox first had only bought them time, because if Katarra had known who Angela Duboise was, he’d have taken her aunt already.
The patrols watching Claudine confirmed Katarra was still clueless.
But that window wouldn’t hold forever. So, returning home like Angela wanted might put her and her aunt in far greater danger.
Then there was keeping her mortal origins a secret that carried its own risk.
If word reached the Continuum Council, they’d demand their own testing on Angela. And the Council’s methods made elderly scholars with bells and smoke look merciful.
Their treaty bought them time. But for what? To unlock her powers to put her into a war where she may get hurt? To break the Claiming before it consumed him entirely, which he hoped wasn’t physically affecting her too? Besides the sharing of emotions, it was the only sign he could see in her.
If they didn’t find answers soon, how long before Angela demanded her freedom that would only put her in danger from an enemy who’d already tried to kill her once?
Grinding his teeth, Zarek balled his hands into fists, because he already knew he wouldn’t have the strength to let her go. Not because he didn’t want her to go home, but because he was no longer certain the Claiming would allow it unless they found a cure.