Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
EMBER
A good Tongue Binding will clamp a witch’s tongue so well not even Uninhibitor will coax her to speak.
— Velleza Luna, Echelon to the
School of Enchantments
Ireturned from my long shower to an empty room, with no one around to explain how Leland had Healed my phantom flu.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked Nova as I picked out my palace clothes for my meeting with Starvos. Nova sprawled lazily on Skye’s desk, her legs stretched and her belly exposed, clearly ignoring me. “Suspect,” I said. “Very suspect.”
I had two new messages. The first, from the Messenger to the Council of Echelons, was a blast all of Everden received, a warning to avoid the Dark Witch uprising in the catacombs in Gnarlton until the area had been cleared by the Echelon Jaxan D’Oron. The second message was from Leland.
Leland Stray: Busy this morning. Run in the gym.
Ember Blackburn: Will you tell me how you did it?
Leland Stray: Later, if you run in the gym.
I clicked off my transmitter without replying.
I would’ve told him where I was going, if Jaxan wasn’t his godfather, who he reported everything to.
I would’ve maybe stayed inside and done nothing — let the Council figure out who the Shadowrealm was — if I hadn’t gotten my first strike yesterday, a reminder that I wasn’t completely in control of how much time I had to waste.
I knew Jaxan was responsible for the abductions. I knew his footsteps anywhere. And for better or worse, it was time to tell someone. I stashed my cuffs in my sock drawer and packed a water bottle full of moonale into a non-magical tote bag.
I had decent control over my nerves, until I stepped off the egress at Conventicles Crossing.
My mind replayed the same scene as I continued on to Odessa Hall.
As real as a Vision, as loud as my heart pounding in my chest, I imagined being chased through the palace by one of Jaxan’s staff members, and at the end of the long hall I’d sprinted down, I realized that staff member was Leland.
My pockets were raided, my moonale taken, and my second strike was given for another crime I didn’t know I was committing.
That was my mindset when I opened the door to Odessa Hall, doubting if I’d even get to my meeting with Starvos.
I turned down the corridor of Echelons’ offices, and my heart fell.
There were a dozen deteriorated witches on custodial duty, robotically polishing the floor, the smooth surface area of marble endless and backbreaking.
Other higher-ranking staff members roamed the hall, but they mostly ignored me.
At Starvos’s door, I lifted my fist to knock.
Aurora Gallatine chose that moment to step out into the hallway. “What are you doing in the Echelons’ corridor?” she asked, sharp and accusatory.
I lowered my fist and faced her. Her black eyes glittered with a hunger that should have sent me running, but I’d made my vow to answer her.
“The Echelon Charley Starvos asked me to come during office hours,” I said. “Is he in?”
She curled a bone-white finger and beckoned me to follow her. My instincts screamed for me to run, but by that point, there was nothing I could do besides listen to the Echelon.
Her office was decorated like a gloomy, Gothic lair. Tall, pointed arches were everywhere — in the haunting shape of the windows, the cabinetry, the pass-throughs in the walls, and the sharp curvature of the U-shaped stairs.
Aurora strode across the dark stone floor, her black lace skirt sweeping past the staircase that rose to an upper-level viewing area.
“Sit,” she said, pointing to an ornate black chair.
I slumped down as she took her seat in the sorceress’ throne chair beside it.
Sunlight pierced through a window and struck an open shelving unit storing hundreds of vials of illusion magic. The metallic liquid shimmered like holographs, sending refracted light dancing across Aurora’s pale, porcelain skin.
“Water?” she asked, water pouring from a blood-red decanter into a heavy silver goblet before I had the opportunity to decline it.
My nose wrinkled as the air thickened with the sharp sting of iron. Last time I checked, pouring water didn’t require illusion magic. But disguising potions and poisons . . .
Aurora shifted in her throne, crossing her legs, settling in. “Have some,” she said.
“No, thank you,” I said. Though my mouth was dry, I wasn’t thirsty, not for whatever she was concocting.
“Is something wrong with my water?” She waved at the goblet like I should be so honored. “Here. I’ll have some as well.” She filled her own cup from the same decanter.
I lifted the goblet and sniffed. The water didn’t smell suspicious, but I knew her illusion magic was strong enough to hide whatever she’d done, and there was no doubt in my mind she’d done something. I set it down without taking a sip and hoped she didn’t notice.
“Tell me, half witch,” she said coolly, “what was the nature of your meeting with Charley?”
“Oh.” I turned, hoping to find Starvos’s warm face suddenly at the door, but it was a mile away, across a dungeon of stone, and Starvos was nowhere to be found. The leather upholstery of my chair groaned as I shifted my tote bag in my lap.
“You’re hesitant,” Aurora said critically, “because you didn’t drink your water.” She peered into my goblet, frowning in distaste when she found it full to the brim. “Have another sip, half witch. I’ll watch.”
I raised the goblet to my lips and took a tiny sip.
An unusual metallic flavor was sharp on my tongue, but it was impossible to tell if it was coming from the water, the thick silver goblet my lips curved around, or her iron spelltracks hanging like poison in the air.
My hand shook as I lowered the heavy cup to the small round side table between us, but aside from the nerves scraping at my insides, I didn’t feel poisoned.
“You were telling me about your meeting,” Aurora said impatiently.
“Yes,” I answered, faster than I meant. “Starvos and I had plans to discuss the Shadowrealm.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, feeling violated by the words spilling out. Recovering, I took the goblet and pretended to take another drink before she demanded I gulp down more.
“The Shadowrealm.” She spoke the words slowly as she lifted her arm, letting her hand float sinisterly by her breast in a soft-closed fist. “So you’ve come to confess?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I have nothing to do with it.”
“You don’t?” She looked disappointed. “Then what could you possibly have to say about it?” I didn’t answer fast enough.
“Do you know who’s responsible? Has the Goddess shown you in a Vision?
Do you know which Aspirant will be next?
Do you know how to vanquish it? Do you think so little of our capabilities that you, a half witch, felt compelled to barge into our palace to share your . . . wisdom?”
“I . . .” I took a breath for composure, but that was the only pause I was given before the words began to spill again. “I have reason to believe it’s Jaxan.”
Aurora’s dark eyes contracted under lowered brows, and I made the quick correction.
“The Echelon Jaxan D’Oron.”
A hard lump was forming in my throat as I remembered Leland telling me the Echelons would kill me for something as simple as not calling them Echelon. I lifted the goblet, so shaky that water sloshed over the sides and spilled on my top as I pretended to take another sip.
“Do you have evidence?” Her coffin-shaped fingernails tapped the wide wooden arm of her chair.
“His walk,” I answered, and my stomach turned over.
“I know his walk. The sound his shoes make. His pacing. I heard it at the Blacklight when the Shadowrealm emerged. And the shadows — they weren’t normal.
They were sentient, powerful. The Shadowcurrents claw at my eyes and dive through my lungs.
I’ve only seen shadows like that from — ”
“I’ve heard enough, half witch,” Aurora said abruptly. “Libel is a crime in our realm. You cannot say whatever you want about an Echelon because you do not like how their walk sounds. All of us work tirelessly to protect the realm, Jaxan included. This warrants a strike and perhaps more.”
“You asked me,” I said, composure slipping. “You asked me to tell you what the meeting was about.”
“And made certain you would,” was her retort as she stood. “This way to the trial room,” she said curtly, “or continue to sit and find out what failure to comply with an Echelon’s orders warrants.”
Grinding my teeth, I followed after her.
We turned left, entering the grand entry to the palace as Jaxan and Leland strode from the main door to the stairway, surrounded by an entourage of three clerks and Farrah Prolix.
She asked a dozen questions as her heels clicked briskly after them.
What was the nature of the uprising? Dark Witches seem increasingly unruly lately, wouldn’t you agree?
I assume this time calls for stricter punishment?
The Truth-Teller subdued seven? How many dead?
Outside the trial room, there was a moment when Leland and I were only a few feet apart, before Aurora stepped between us and halted him.
“Not you, Truth-Teller.” She lowered her hovering hand. “The half witch incriminated herself under the influence of Truth Serum and Uninhibitor, so your services will not be needed.” She eyed his banged-up appearance. “A shower, however . . .”
Leland bowed his head complacently and turned down the stairs without sparing a glance at me. I dug my nails into my palms and entered the trial room with a heavy sense of doom, heavier than how I’d felt imagining the worst-case scenario on my way to the palace.