Chapter 24 Syneca #2
He had never addressed me by my full name.
Terror crawled up my spine as I gave an answer I knew he wasn’t going to like.
“Truly nothing. I thought I could be more of an asset to you as a Rune Weaver, so I focused my studies on that, rather than darker magic. I just know once a curse is triggered, it’s almost impossible to escape. ”
To my surprise, he gripped the back of his neck again, but said nothing for a moment, turning to look out his window. Then he moved to a cabinet, pulling out what looked like shipping manifests.
“We received intelligence about smuggling operations at the docks. Witches are being trafficked out of the city.” He spread the documents across his desk with deliberate care. “Your team will investigate. Split your forces. Northern docks and southern. Find these smugglers.”
The assignment was busywork. A distraction. Why call a Mortalis, declare a full team of Venatori and send them off to do work his precious hunters could do instead?
“Now that we've sorted this mess, do you understand your new role here? You will no longer work in my offices nor taint my workers. If I have a need, I will send it to your quarters. You will find Vitoria Nindle, as well. If you do not, you die.”
“As will your son,” I said before I could stop myself.
“An unfortunate loss.”
Three words. Delivered with such casual indifference that the full horror hit me. He didn’t care if Wickett died. Might even prefer it.
“You’ll investigate the docks as ordered,” Tiberius continued. “And you’ll report everything you find directly to me. No one else. Do you understand?”
I understood perfectly. He’d worked out that I was leading the Venatori now, and he was giving me enough rope to either save us all or hang myself.
“Yes, Magistrate.”
“Good. Now go. You have plenty of work to do.”
I left on unsteady legs, tasting blood and letting his threats echo, even when the soft click of the door’s bolt startled me.
In the hallway, I found Wickett waiting. Alone. Undoubtedly, the others had been dismissed.
He took one look at my face, and his jaw tightened. But he kept quiet as we wove through the Chancellery, making our way outside. Away from spying runes and watchful eyes. Most of them, anyway. Silas approached, wings spread and gaze lethal as his paws ripped into the turf.
“I’m fine,” I told the griffin, whose onyx beak grazed the mark on my cheek so faintly I almost didn’t feel it. I buried a hand in the feathers on his head. “I’m stronger than I look. Promise.”
Wickett turned toward me.
“Don’t,” I said before he could speak.
He reached for my arm, but Si’s beak snapped through the air, refusing to let him touch me. Wickett deflated, taking a step back. The red mark on his cheek had darkened to purple, matching the one I suspected was forming on my own face.
“His methods are fucked up—” I started.
“What he’s ultimately doing is right,” Wickett cut me off, though his voice lacked conviction. “We’re so close to ending the Phoenix threat, to stopping the Burnings forever. It needs to happen. There can be no other way.”
I stared at him. At the bruise. At the shame in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide.
“You don’t actually believe that.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. Only what I do.”
And there was his confession. The words he hadn’t spoken. He started to walk away. My voice was probably gentler than it’d ever been as I finally, finally understood the man that walked away from me. “Wickett.”
He stopped but didn’t turn around.
“He called you an unfortunate loss. Like losing you would be an inconvenience, not a tragedy.”
“I’m aware.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“No.” He looked back at me then, and the raw honesty in his expression made my chest tight. “Some battles were lost long ago. I can’t... I can’t let myself be as weak as you need me to be, Syneca.”
He disappeared across the lawn, leaving me standing there with blood in my mouth and questions I couldn’t answer.
Sprites in pressed uniforms swarmed my room in perfect lines, dropping off piles of files, the first with strict orders to get to work, signed by Mathias, of course. I stood back, watching them carry stacks so heavy, they strained. They covered a good portion of the desk and part of the floor.
I knew at this point the Magistrate would never send me anything useful, but still I tried.
Still, I spent the time to search every file once for anything useful.
There was nothing. Just more of his bullshit.
More of his pressing control. I tossed the final file onto the desk and decided not to touch it again.
I pressed my palms against the wall and tried to think.
The docks. Of all the places Tiberius could have sent us, he’d chosen the one location I absolutely could not afford to investigate.
Because if Vitoria had escaped the city, she’d have done it through smuggler networks.
Through the people he was now ordering us to expose.
And if we didn’t find her, we’d certainly find other witches mid-escape.
I pulled water from the basin, letting it pool in my palm as I paced. The magic responded sluggishly, exhausted from the day’s horrors probably. Crimson’s death. Tiberius’s violence. Wickett’s response.
No.
Focus.
I needed the others.
Within minutes, we’d gathered in the kitchen, Calder, Lucy, Pip with red-rimmed eyes, and surprisingly, the Oracle with Riot close behind. Wickett arrived last, his expression carefully neutral.
“The Magistrate gave us an assignment,” I said without preamble. “He wants us to investigate smuggling operations at the docks. Witches being trafficked out of the city.”
Lucy snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Before she could respond, I cast. “Silentii.”
The bubble of water formed around us, though I avoided Calder’s eyes after I’d used the spell. Giving away my secrets was fucking foolish.
The Oracle tilted her head slightly. I had the distinct impression she was studying the magic itself, even though she couldn’t see it. “Clever.”
“Useful trick,” Riot added quietly, his gaze sweeping the barrier’s edge. “Especially in a place like this.”
Their acceptance came without questions, without the fear or suspicion I’d learned to expect from outsiders.
The Oracle seemed almost pleased by the magic, and Riot’s expression held only appreciation.
It was... different. Unsettling in a way I couldn’t quite name.
Like maybe I didn’t have to hide every part of myself from everyone in this room.
Pip’s wings fluttered a little faster as she touched the barrier with tiny fingers. “What’s it for?”
“It’s a silencing spell,” Wickett answered, eyes locked on mine. “So we won’t be overheard.”
“Water holds sound differently than air. Absorbs it rather than carries it. You were just about to say something?” I said to Lucy, ignoring the hunter’s tone.
“Your Magistrate’s order is not an assignment,” she said flatly. “That’s a trap.”
“Obviously. But if we don’t go, we’re in violation of direct orders. And he made it very clear what happens to people who disobey him.”
“Is that what happened to your face?” Calder asked, stepping forward to carefully grip my chin as he studied the mark.
I pulled away. “It is. And now we have to decide what to do with an order that feels like busywork.”
“We go,” Wickett said quietly. “But we do it wisely.”
I turned to look at him, eyes wide.
He met my surprise without flinching. “My father is playing a game. He wants us chasing shadows while his real hunters do the actual work. So we have to give him the show he expects. We investigate the docks. We find nothing useful. We report back like obedient soldiers.”
“And if we actually find something?” Pip asked, her voice small.
Something strange crossed his features. As if going against his father’s orders publicly physically pained him.
“Then we handle it tactfully. We can’t afford to give him leverage. Not when we need to be moving toward real answers.”
Calder studied him for a long moment. “You’re suggesting we perform compliance by doing nothing to advance the hunt?”
“I’m suggesting we survive long enough to figure out what’s actually happening here.
” Wickett’s eyes moved around the room. “My father has his own hunters searching. He doesn’t necessarily need—or maybe even want—us to find the Phoenix.
He just needs to be in charge of whoever does.
That way, no matter what, he’s the savior of the world.
Either way, we’re tools. The question is whether we’re smart enough to use that to our advantage. ”
And so the Ripper finally came to our side.
Calder leaned back, something like respect flickering across his face. “Split the team. Some to the northern docks, some to the southern. Make it look thorough while actually covering minimal ground.”
“Exactly as instructed.” Wickett glanced at me. “We play his game. Only far better than he expects.”
“The young witch is learning to bend without breaking. Interesting.” The Oracle said, turning toward me after the raven on her shoulder did.
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a warning.
“We leave at first light,” I said finally. “Pairs. Wickett and I take the northern docks. Calder and Lucette, southern. Pip—”
“I’m not going anywhere near water that deep,” she said quickly. “I’ll stay here. Keep watch. Make sure nobody’s following when you leave.”
Riot stirred. “The Oracle and I will remain as well. Should you need extraction, signal the griffin and we’ll come.”
How exactly a blind woman and her dragon would extract us from the docks, I wasn’t sure. But I nodded anyway.
“Tomorrow then,” Lucy said, standing. “Try not to get killed before we even start.”
They filed out slowly. Calder paused at the door, catching my eye. A silent question: Are you sure about this?
I nodded once. He left.
Wickett lingered. Our eyes met across the room, and something passed between us. Not words. Understanding, maybe. Or acknowledgment of the impossible position we’d both been forced into. He left without speaking, and I hated the way I stared after him.
I stood in the empty kitchen for a long moment before returning to my own quarters. Inside, I paced. Back and forth across the narrow space while Silas watched from his corner of the bed with those knowing blue eyes.
An idea was brewing. Not because it was smart. Not because it was even remotely possible. But because I was about to do something really fucking reckless.
The Magistrate’s office would be empty soon. The last of his clerks and advisors would leave within the hour, heading home to their comfortable beds and their illusions of safety.
And I was going to break in.
I was going to find out what DEC really meant. What Tiberius Veyne was really preoccupied with while we chased shadows at the docks.
Silas made a low sound, but whether it was warning or disapproval, I couldn’t tell.
“I know,” I whispered. “I know it’s reckless.”
But I was done playing by their rules, done letting the Magistrate control every move.