Chapter 2 – Wave
After that, her routine changed again. Once a day, a guard would take her to a little gym and she spent an hour working out, running and trying to get her body to cooperate with the powers shimmering in her gut.
It took Wave a couple of days to realize the guards actually let her use their gym.
“Felt a bit bad for you,” one of them said when she asked about it. “These cells were not meant for long-term holding. There’s no secure outdoor exercise area, or anything else really.”
“But won’t you get in trouble?”
“Nah, you’ve been behaving, and you were helping during the attack.”
“Oh! Well, thank you.”
She had a hard time processing that and didn’t want to question it too closely when it was probably the main thing keeping her sane. The small cell felt more and more claustrophobic every day. Fresh air was something she dreamed about constantly.
Her wrists were always raw because she clawed at them in her sleep and rubbed them every time her mind began to wander. She missed the bracelet from Jarred. If she had kept the treasure, she could focus on it and not the chains her memories kept conjuring up day and night.
A week later, when Wave was coming back from her daily exercise, she saw Elena being pushed into a cell a few doors down from hers. Wave tensed, but since a wall of flames didn’t head her way, she dared to hope that Elena hadn’t seen her.
Fuck.
Wave slipped into her own cell to shower and prayed that the Council Force would just set her trial.
There was no way she could escape these cells without using her siren heritage to its fullest, and well…
after that, the Council Force would certainly put every available resource to tracking her down.
She had better chances of survival if she just played along for now.
‘Rash actions will always get you into trouble. You need to think more, Wave.’ She could practically hear her mother lecturing her, while her father nodded along. So she was trying to think. And coming up empty, but she was trying.
From the rumors she had gathered from the guards, the Council would probably sentence her to life in prison, but no one was very zealously driving the case.
Her parentage was listed as unknown and she had used elemental powers.
There were enough variations and mixed breeds that it didn’t cause too much interest.
In the Council’s eyes, she was just a storm spirit heir apparent.
A bastard—and those were a dime a dozen.
The general opinion among guards was that she had gotten unlucky with the title transferring to her randomly while the Hell Moon was boosting her powers to unnatural levels.
Since she hadn’t gone on a murderous spree with her power manifestation, she was no one to worry about.
That was all well and good on paper, but Wave was slowly losing her mind in the cell, no matter how fairly the guards were treating her.
She needed this limbo to end one way or another.
She wanted to see her friends and beg for forgiveness.
And gods, she missed those infuriating males.
She didn’t want to, but there was nothing but time to think in the cell.
So she was going mad in more ways than one. Wave groaned and once again tried to figure out a way out of this mess, but came up with nothing. Fan-fucking-tastic. She was going to rot in a cell for the rest of her life.
Finally, after another week dragged by, she got the news. The date for the trial was set. The same Council Force officer came to deliver the news in person. He gave her one last chance to add to her statement or provide more information about her circumstances. Wave had nothing to add.
The man shook his head slightly but didn’t bother pressuring her more.
“Well then, Ms. Spinwell. You’ll be in front of a judge three days from now.”
Wave stretched her legs as she walked behind a guard.
She had been a model prisoner, unlike Elena, who had caused enough trouble that the guards kept muttering about her.
They wanted to transfer her to higher security cells, but there wasn’t any space.
Maybe the reason for Wave’s relatively speedy trial was because the Council’s holding cells were overflowing.
Her case was clear cut. Unauthorized use of heir apparent power. The only question that seemed to be floating in the cells and on the guards’ mouths was the question of who her parents really were.
Sinister had kept his mouth shut and Wave still couldn’t understand why. He now held her life in his palm and Wave couldn’t figure out why he was protecting her. If it ever came out that he knew, it would spell quite a shitstorm for him and even the rest of the Powerhouses by association.
Still. She was walking freely, ungagged, and unbound, behind the guards. Nervous energy coursed through her body, but she focused on keeping a straight face and forced her hands to stop trembling.
Taking in the route, Wave looked for any faces she might know but saw none. She hadn’t been allowed any visitors in the cell, but neither had anyone else, so she didn’t take that too personally. She tried to ignore the fact that no one had called her either.
Apparently, that would have been an option.
The weird part was that despite her frayed nerves, memories and nightmares plaguing her, and the upcoming trial that would determine her fate, Wave had never felt so good, so alive.
For once in her life, she didn’t need to work on pulling in her aura.
The cell helped to contain her power and her powers just kept shimmering, instead of lashing out or tearing at her. She almost felt like a spirit for real.
On top of that, she had screamed enough of her rage into the storm that her siren powers felt satisfied, too.
Hopefully, it would take a decade or so before she needed to let loose quite like that again.
Preferably, she would find herself a deserted island in the middle of an ocean by then.
Wave was strongly starting to lean toward arctic waters. Penguins were cute.
She was guided into a permanent portal and stepped through without hesitation. The voices swelled around her as soon as she was through and Wave wanted to— No! I’m not going to sing them to silence.
Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t take a decade for her siren powers to resurface, but holy gods, they could wait at least a few hours longer, right?
Wave looked around and took in the courtroom. In truth, it looked more like a ballroom, with heavy purple drapes, a high ceiling, and polished hardwood floors. It was also quite full, but there seemed to be an invisible line that no one was willing to cross, leaving her to stand alone on the floor.
She wondered if there would even be anyone standing up to defend her. Probably not. Besides, she was guilty. She had used the magic and power reserved only for the heir apparent. She hadn’t claimed the title, so she had no place touching that well of power.
So what if that power sang to her now that she was out of the cell? It felt right, cradling her bones, but she wasn’t a recognized heir, and that was all that mattered to the Council Force.
From the corner of her eye, she spied all the Powerhouses milling with the rest of the spectators. She was about to be made into an example. Nothing personal on the Council Force’s part, just business as usual. Examples always worked better with an audience.
The only sympathetic, even worried, face in the crowd belonged to Salis. She wasn’t conceited enough to think that they all hated her, but showing sympathy was a dangerous game at this moment.
All the very important people were gathered above on the dais. There were murmurs, glares, and thrown hands from time to time, but no one had called things in order yet. Until that happened, this was all just a bad, if slightly boring, dream.
She looked them over and realized only one being wore the council robes and the other had the judge’s collar. Not a High Judge, just a regular one. Apparently, her case didn’t warrant the High Council’s presence either.
Well, well, well.
Maybe whatever Elena was mixed up in was an even bigger thing than she had thought. That was the only reason Wave could think of as to why there wasn’t a full council present. Usually, they took heir apparent business seriously, even if she was only a spirit.
Wave’s breath froze as one very distinguished figure walked through the dais door. His snow-white hair was combed carefully, as always, and his slate gray suit was immaculate. Despite some wrinkles showing his age, he radiated power, as was his right as the High Lord of Stormbringers.
He looked around with a poorly covered sneer until his eyes landed on Wave and then he stepped forward.
“What is the meaning of this, Wayla?” His tone cut through the hubbub like a knife. How most beings had missed his entrance was beyond Wave’s comprehension. It was almost like missing Lucifer walking into the room—simply impossible.
Heads swiveled to her and Wave shrugged. She knew she should bow, but Wave couldn’t make her spine bend even an inch. Not to him.
Father had taken their secret to his grave to protect her and Mother from him. His greatest fear had been his own family using them if they ever learned what they were. Even her true name was kept from her grandparents, and they knew her as Wayla, like everyone else.
When the silence stretched, he lifted a single eyebrow, demanding to know more. Wave kept her mouth shut, her mind whirring. How had he learned about her trial? He shouldn’t even know she was attending the Academy.
“Lord Stormwell,” the judge said and bowed deeply.
See, that was why you needed High Judges. Regular ones didn’t rank high enough to come even close to impartial. “Wayla Spinwell, a storm spirit, allegedly used heir apparent power and is on trial for that crime.”
This was the first time Wave heard the word allegedly attached to her crime.
“Spinwell? A spirit?” Lord Stormwell turned back toward her, completely dismissing the judge and only nodding in passing to the one council member present. “Wayla, what nonsense is this?”
“Nothing,” Wave ground out.
Her grandfather’s eyes narrowed and the temperature in the room dropped. You could have heard a pin drop in the silence as everyone seemed to hold in their breaths.
“Are you ready to claim your place? You must have gotten over your stubborn streak if you touched the well.”
If utter silence could have turned deafening, it did so now.
Wave desperately wanted to grind her teeth, shout, do anything, but she locked all that away.
The well—the legacy of her father—was the one thing she had refused to claim as her own.
She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not when it meant admitting to herself that he was really gone.
One of the minor lords cleared his throat.
Wave didn’t turn to look, locking eyes with the man who had been a threat to her existence since birth.
She had been a pawn in his games too many times to count, and she had always played defense.
Bend just enough, but not too much. Be a wild card, unreliable, but not a real threat to his authority.
Do not push too far, like Father had done.
“Lord Stormwell?” the council member said but didn’t voice any actual question.
“Wayla.” Lord Stormwell didn’t ask anything either. It was all in the tone. They had been having this fight for a decade and now he finally had the upper hand. She was cornered, and she had no doubt he would force her hand.
“Fine,” she spat out.
“Fine, what?”
“Fine, I claim the title of the heir apparent to the Stormbringers. I am the daughter of Gileas Stormwell and rightful successor of the clan.” The binding words fell from her cold lips bitterly.
The power that had slammed into her the moment her father was murdered now belonged to her.
Officially. It was already hers, but the magic recognized the words and the claim they held.
It rushed forward and claimed her back. Wave didn’t need to look around to see that her aura was now crushing most beings in the room.
She could practically hear the clock for her life start ticking. It didn’t matter so much that Sinister knew about her other side. She was now a player in a very dangerous game. A puzzle piece that every other player on the board wanted to figure out.
The truth would come out. It always did.
“Happy now, Grandpa?” She barely managed to keep her tone civil, although the ice dripping from her fingertips didn’t exactly portray control.
“Of course, Wayla darling. This is all I’ve ever wanted,” he replied before looking at the people gaping at both of them.
“I trust this takes care of this little issue?” He didn’t wait for them to reply.
There were only a few beings in the worlds that truly merited his respect and time, and none of them were here today.
Grandfather pointed at the headmaster, who was standing to one side. “I trust that you’ll correct your records promptly and make sure my granddaughter enjoys all the things her status merits. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, he walked out of the room. As the door closed behind him, the room erupted. Wave stood in the center of it all, trying to convince herself to breathe.
It wasn’t the end of the worlds. Not yet.