Chapter 41 #2
“And now that I’ve caught you, you have no choice but to tell me? Is that what this is?” Sera closed her eyes, willing her magic to calm. It just laughed at her. They needed to get to dinner; they were expected. “I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
Alistair reached out to grab her hand. Sera snatched it back before he could touch her. With every second she looked at the warlock, a pounding pressure built in her temples.
“Sera, there is more I need to tell you.” Those broad shoulders dropped. Whatever he needed to tell her wasn’t good. After Snik… knowing they were back at war, her chest already felt tight.
“Tell me later,” she said through gritted teeth.
Al shot back in his chair. “Sera—your eyes.”
Sera didn’t wait to hear whatever bullshit he had to say about her eyes and walked out the door.
She fumed the entire way to the dining room. It didn’t help that her magic was humming an unfamiliar tune in her mind.
“Will you stop that? You’re making me look insane.”
It laughed, but finally shut up.
The dining room chandeliers swayed in their nightly waltz, casting dancing shadows along the walls and floor. The constant light interruption was making her headache worse with every step toward the finely set table.
Ophelia was at her place setting. “Sit next to me, dear. You seem ruffled.”
Sera didn’t object and waited for the lesser demons to change around her plates and cutlery.
The lesser demons looked so much like goblins.
Their ears weren’t nearly as large as Snik’s, and they were black with fur, but she couldn’t stop picturing their bodies strewed…
their homes burning. She blinked back tears.
War had taken her father. It had taken mothers, brothers, and daughters. Would either side give up? Or would the result be the complete annihilation of the dark ones?
Dominick’s last message had said that aliato were in the Citadel. Sera gripped her raven pendant and slid it back and forth on its cord.
An alliance. That could be the only reason both races would be communicating with the Council.
But did her companions know? Alistair must have been traveling back and forth with information much longer than he’d admitted.
They’d been apart enough that he could go without her noticing.
Sera pursed her lips and glanced at Ophelia. Did the oracle know? Did Vasso?
Around and around the shadows danced. She swore that out of the corner of her vision, she could see sprites among them, twirling with their wings flitting.
“Come, sit, dear.” Ophelia motioned to the seat beside her.
Sera obeyed and plopped down, still zipping her pendant back and forth. If the Council was willing to kill off an entire clan of goblins, what was to stop them from trying to eradicate other gentle dark ones, like the domovoi? And where was the goddess in this mess?
Shadow had been the champion of the world. She was supposed to protect the dark ones, protect Eraphon herself.
Shadow was locked away… waiting to be awoken.
“The world feels a bit darker today, doesn’t it?” Ophelia said. The oracle brought a glass of water to her lips. The lines in her face seemed deeper.
“I suppose so, yes.” Sera rubbed her temples.
The far door swung open as Vasso strode to his place at the head of the table.
His easy smile from earlier was gone, replaced by a jaw clenched tight and a constant rubbing of his brow.
His black dinner jacket was unbuttoned, along with the top of his shirt.
Reddened bags were under his eyes, as if he’d been sleeping.
Yet no matter how many times she glanced at him, he didn’t look up.
“Lord Vasso,” Ophelia said with a smile.
“Ophelia,” he grunted back.
Alistair filed in next. His hair was still damp, his steps rigid as he took the seat nearest Vasso, clearing his throat.
Silence was thick in the air until the first course was served, and Ophelia popped open a bottle of wine.
“You simply must try this, Lord Vasso. You, too, Alistair and Seraphina. I think you’ll all find it delightful.” She poured the wine, her blue robes draping elegantly across the table as she decanted it into the goblets.
The deep red sloshing in the crystal reminded Sera of blood.
“My dear?” Ophelia asked.
“Not right now, thank you.” Sera swallowed, watching Vasso and Al under lowered lashes, trying to figure out if everyone in this room had been lying to her.
They have.
Sera winced at the tinks and scrapes of polite dining. Each clink grated as she tried to untie the knot of information Al had given her. She fully understood why Ophelia hated the chandeliers. The constant sway of light was making her agitated.
“Do you need anything replenished in your rooms?” Vasso hid a yawn behind the back of his hand.
“I’m fine,” she said. Alistair continued to stare at her and emptied the wineglass in one go. Vasso drained his and tapped his fingers on the table.
He was nervous…
“Well, the conversation is delightful this evening,” Ophelia said.
“Since no one else will speak, I will inform you of my intentions for the next few days before we are due to leave.” She took another sip of water.
“I hid my prophecy grimoire a few years ago and plan on retrieving it. Seraphina, do you think you’d like to help me? ”
She was running out of time. The pressure in her chest increased with each beat of her heart. She needed a doorway. “Sure, I’ll help.”
Alistair’s face slammed into his first course. Pink seafood bisque splattered all over the white tablecloth.
“Al!” Sera leaped from her chair.
As soon as his name was out of her mouth, Vasso slid to the side, knocked out cold on the floor.
“Finally,” Ophelia said, rising from her place.
“What happened to them?”
“I thought you and I should have some time together.” The oracle raised her brow at Alistair and Vasso. “The men get in the way.”
“You drugged them?”
Gurgling bubbles splattered around Alistair’s mouth and nose.
“A witch never tells. Come, Seraphina.”
As frustrated as she was at the pair of them, she wasn’t sure drugging was the solution. Sera crossed the room, lifted Al’s head, placed it on the table so he wasn’t breathing in soup, and reluctantly followed Ophelia.