Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Seraphina
Despite having wanted, in the past, to tour the barracks, Sera was missing a lot of the scenery.
It was hard for her to admire the statues and ancient weapons while Alistair Alcott walked in front of her.
He collected parts of a coven uniform from one of the many rooms they journeyed through, draping the pants and shirts over his forearm.
He nodded to every Legion member who passed, showcasing the line of his overly chiseled jaw.
She needed to get herself together. It’d been years since she’d thought of him, but now, in his presence, she was every bit as awkward as she’d been when they were young.
He turned. His eyes swept her up and down, and damn if she didn’t want him to smile at what he saw.
Instead, his face stayed impassive.
Well then. Guess even now, she wasn’t his cup of tea.
He continued into a room with stacks of shelves that reached the ceiling. Not unlike her workstation in the keeper wing, but instead of priceless artifacts, the shelves held brown leather boots.
“You won’t need anything you packed,” he said over his shoulder and led her to an empty table.
“And how do you know what I need?”
“Oh, Minnow,” he sighed. Sera wished she would turn to dust right there on the spot.
“This isn’t my first assignment. And based on how full your pack is”—he held up a gloved finger—“the length of time we are going to be traveling”—he held up another—“not to mention the fact that I’m holding your uniform, I can almost guarantee you won’t need anything you packed. ”
Minnow. It had been years since she’d heard her old nickname.
She wished it had been an endearment—that he had given her the name as a sign of playful flirting.
Alas, she’d been awarded it because she’d fallen into one of the garden pools, and being compared to a tiny bait fish wasn’t particularly sexy.
“You will need armor,” he said.
“Armor? I’m not appointed to the Legion. Isn’t that what you’re for?”
He regarded her again, then chuckled, raspy and deep. “I’m here for a lot of things,” he said, and handed her the uniform and a pair of boots. “Go in there and change, quickly. We have a meeting with Chair Renata to review our assignment. If you delay me further, I will leave without you.”
“How do you know these will fit?” she huffed, entering a changing area. She closed the curtain behind her and peeled off her shirt.
“I’ve got a good eye.” There was a smile in his answer, and she ignored her fluttering insides.
And of course, they fit.
The brown pants were made of thicker material than her usual keeper uniform and slipped easily over her hips, tying comfortably under her belly button. Her new tunic was long-sleeved but breathable, falling to mid-thigh and dyed coven blue, with the Solarni sun embroidered on the chest.
“The other Council members won’t be there?” she asked.
“This is Renata’s mission.”
Sera pushed back the curtain and emerged. Alistair was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, scanning her from head to toe. His nostrils flared for a moment, his full lips pulled to a straight line. Without a second look, he crossed the room toward the table where he’d placed her things.
“Let’s see what’s in your bag.” Alistair gave her a conspiratorial grin and set a Legion rucksack on the table.
“What? Why?” Sera gripped the strap tightly. He didn’t need to know what she’d brought. He just needed to get her there.
“Because, as I said, you’re most likely carrying nonsense, and it’s my job to ensure you can walk long distances.”
“I’ll be fine. We can go.”
He held out his hand. “Give it, Seraphina.”
She shivered at each syllable of her name exiting those full lips and handed over her pack. He rifled through her things. Sera all but bit her tongue off as she watched him throw her journal, leather gloves, and comb on an empty table. He’d pulled out the few pairs of pants when she stopped him.
“I’m bringing those.”
“These are not thick enough. They’re going.” He ripped them out of her hand, and three glass bottles of elixirs pinged across the table. Sera caught two of them, and Alistair grabbed the other. He lowered his voice. “Sera, what are these?”
She snatched it from his gloved hand and swallowed hard. “They’re for sleep,” she whispered.
“Are they contraband?”
She shook her head. “I got them from the healers.” She turned one over so he could see the underside where the healer’s mark was scratched into the glass. He glanced at the bottle, then right at her. His crystal-blue gaze pierced right through her.
There was pity in that stare, and it was piquing her darkness. He didn’t know her anymore. He had no right to judge what she was going through. No one else had to deal with this power, this destruction running through their body every second of every day.
Sera threw the elixirs into the bottom of the rucksack and turned away.
He kept glancing at her while he folded an extra pair of brown pants, another Legion-issued tunic, and two pairs of socks.
He left the table, giving her a moment to breathe.
How was she going to explain this? How could she hold herself together for weeks?
Especially under his scrutiny… his pity.
Alistair returned with a brown cloak. He folded it with more care than she’d expected and placed it inside.
“The rest will be returned to you when we get back.”
“I need this.” She reached for the notebook Dominick had given her. Alistair grabbed her forearm. The abomination snapped inside her, wriggling under the surface where his hand bunched the fabric of her tunic.
“I am a captain in the Solarni Legion, and as of twenty minutes ago, you report to me. I had hoped you had matured more than the last time we interacted, but don’t make me pull rank.
Minnow.” The side of his mouth tilted upward with each stroke of his thumb against her uniform.
Her darkness thrashed. “You will follow orders.”
Every fiber in her body vibrated with rage as she ripped her arm from his grip. The darkness rolled in her stomach, and she clenched her hands so hard that her knuckles cracked.
Alistair continued rubbing his fingers together, inspecting his hand, then looked back at her. His face puckered as if he’d eaten something sour.
Sera lowered her voice. “Keep your hands off me.”
She grabbed the journal Dominick had gifted her and threw it on top of her cloak, making quick work to close her new Legion rucksack around it.
Alistair’s face was stone while he continued to rub his fingers together. She’d seen how he’d done that in the throne room the day before. Some weird tic he must have picked up from the Legion. No wonder they had kicked him out of Colton’s battalion.
Sera crossed her arms and raised a brow, waiting for him to snap out of whatever trance he was in. He straightened, puffed out his annoyingly broad chest, and walked past her. With no choice but to follow, Sera walked into the hall.
The Council chambers were less intimidating without the other four chairs present. Empty and echoing, no crinkle of robes or murmurs. But the sea beyond the glass was raging. The gray peaks were white with foam, so angry she wondered if the mer were having a hard time with the currents.
Chair Renata sat sharp in her throne, waiting. Her blond hair was slicked back in a bun. Sera noticed two golden wings were clipped behind her ears. An odd hair ornament for a witch, let alone a Council member.
Sera followed Alistair’s lead and bowed, keeping her eyes on the floor.
“Captain Alcott, you’ve outfitted your recruit in our uniform. Wonderful.” Renata clapped her hands together and stood.
Sera’s chest tightened at the casual use of the word recruit. Surely Renata couldn’t mean Sera would be commissioned to the Legion even after completing her quest? She had nothing to offer.
“Yes, Chair, I have.” He stood up straight and held his hands behind his back.
“I’m sure you are curious about the details of your mission.”
“I am,” Alistair said. What a diligent soldier he was. Only spoke when spoken to. Standing at ease.
“This is what I have for you. The oracle’s name is Ophelia Fray.
She was last seen in Ironoak, a human settlement on the southeast side of the Lanac mountain range.
She is presumed close to the area, but this information is a few weeks old.
” Chair Renata picked at her long nails, looking utterly bored.
“She has been moving from settlement to settlement every few years. It would be wise to use caution when approaching her. I can’t imagine she wants to be caught. ”
“How did you find this information?” Sera asked. She bit her tongue as soon as the words were out.
Chair Renata squinted at her. “And why do you think it is your place to know? Do you think you should have the privilege, Seraphina Wildrick?”
Sera bowed her head. She knew better, but once again, her curious nature had taken over.
It was fascinating to her how the Legion collected information.
She couldn’t help but think that in two hundred years’ time, the next group of keepers would be digging up the lost transcriptions in her same office.
“No, Chair, I do not. Please forgive my outburst.”
Renata pursed her lips. “You will report to Captain Alcott and follow his every command. It is imperative that the oracle is secured and brought back to the Citadel. The future of this coven depends on her knowledge and the doorways.”
Sera took a deep bow, resisting the urge to look up as she responded. “Yes, Chair.”
“Now, as far as the doorways to Gehenna are concerned, once you find them, you will need to mark their locations accurately on a map that Alistair will make available to you.”
“But how will I know what the doorways look like?”
Renata turned her back on Sera and glided to her throne. “That is not my job, Witch Wildrick. Surely you must have some idea of what they would look like?”
Very few texts mentioned the doorways. The ones that did were often in the old language, and although Sera was more proficient in it than most, there were still gaps in her comprehension.
Still, she knew they were direct lines under Eraphon’s surface.
Ones that would bring you to the halls of Gehenna.
“I will do my duty, ma’am.”
“Good. Now that that is taken care of, Captain Alcott, please pack enough provisions for however long you deem necessary. Everything will be at your disposal.”
Sera recognized the smile plastered on Chair Renata’s face—one an owner would give a pet.
“You are dismissed,” Renata said. Alistair gave her a curt nod and turned to leave the chamber. “Oh, and Seraphina,” Renata called out. “If you hope to use the coven’s resources to rescue your sister, you’d best ensure you don’t hinder this mission.”
Sera’s mouth went dry. She nodded, then turned on her heel and followed Alistair out of the Council chambers.