by Ella M. Lee
He sighed. “I’m not patient. Tell me which you would prefer.”
His magic trembled, poised like a predator, as if to emphasize his point.
I couldn’t really see any way to get out of this situation alive, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. I was not going to cry and beg only to be slaughtered like cattle in the end anyhow.
“I asked you a simple question, and I would like an answer,” he said, tilting his head. “Are you so eager to end up like your dead friends?”
Anguish cut through me, completely gutting me. My chest constricted further. Violet. We had joined Flame together. She had been my closest friend in the clan, there with me through pain and grief of all kinds. Lars. My lieutenant, who had trained me and supported me. Damon. My mission partner for the past several years, who had always watched my back.
I tried not to let grief creep into my eyes. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, crushed under the weight of heartbreak.
But underneath that sadness, there was a pang of relief within me. None of them would be tortured here. None of them would suffer. I didn’t have to worry about them. I felt anger for what had happened, but I didn’t have to experience the uncertainty and pain of knowing people I loved were in danger.
My logical, reasonable side reminded me that I had my own problems right now. One problem, really, standing in front of me with a hard look on his face.
I studied the commander’s glare and wondered if he was really as calm as he seemed. Probably. He had all the power here. I watched his magic continue to shift and swirl around him, more powerful than my own commander in Flame by far. This man was deadly in a way that I’d never seen before. His gaze alone was frightening, and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes from cutting away, unnerved.
It had been so easy, all those years ago, to agree to the rules. Protect Flame Clan at all costs. Never bend, never break. But did it matter if I answered his questions now or after several hours of torture? What I knew barely scratched the surface of Flame or our missions, anyhow. I had been living on the fringes of my clan for years, had never cared much for digging deeper into anything beyond my own tasks and interests.
They were leaving me for dead, as they should. Could I do the same in return? Could acquiescing to him be a way to live? Or would it just make me a coward and a traitor?
“Well?” he asked, rolling his eyes.
It was such an unexpected gesture that I let slip the tiniest, breathiest wisp of a laugh. Then I did it again, laughing at my own irrational urge to laugh.
Hysterics. Great. Focus. I had to think. I had to figure out the rules of this game to make it work.
“What do you want to know?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“Let’s start with your name,” he said.
He was back to studying me, his eyes dark and thoughtful. I was regretting every decision I had made in the past few weeks, every moment that had somehow landed me here. I would have never agreed to this mission if I had known we were targeting this man, with his impressive magic and extreme composure.
I had to use that composure to help myself. He didn’t seem angry. He didn’t seem erratic. Dangerous, yes. Conniving, yes. But I had something he wanted, something he thought was better extracted through conversation than torture. Give, and maybe get something in return.
“Fiona,” I said reluctantly.
“You targeted me and my group in Vienna because…?”
I laughed bitterly. “Would you believe me if I told you that orders are orders, and those were mine? I don’t know who you are. Hell, I don’t even know your name.”
He smirked. “Interesting. Who issued your orders?”
“My commander,” I said, trying to keep my tone from veering into “are you an idiot?” territory.
He smiled. “Yes, well, I imagine there is more to the story than that. What is your commander’s name, and what were his goals? How do plans like this make it all the way down to someone like you?”
I paused. Now we were in dangerous territory. My name? Immaterial. There was still a good chance I would be dead within hours. But to speak of my group and clan, our structures and plans, to an enemy commander? That would be a betrayal I couldn’t turn back from.
“Oh, come now, this was going so well,” he said mockingly.
“For whom?” I asked, rattling my shackles.
His answering smile was feral. He leaned closer to the shield. “I told you that you could get out of this alive, and your reaction is to antagonize me, to needle me? I’m the only thing standing between you and a painful, prolonged death. I would be humbler in your place.”
I said nothing, bringing my palms flat against my thighs to keep my hands from shaking. There was a terrified part of me, the part without magic or family or friends, that cried out for me to accept his offer, to beg him for any chance of living.
You’ll break if they torture you, it told me. I’d be pleading for this opportunity, but by then it would be too late, and that cold wolf there would just laugh at my stupidity. I wanted to stay alive, didn’t I?
I did, but I would be a betrayer if I talked. Was that better than death? Would that be easier to handle? I wasn’t sure of anything, but I needed to make a decision. Play his game or give up before it even started.
He stood. I thought he was going to leave, but he merely took his phone out of his pocket and examined it. It was vibrating faintly. In a gesture so polite it bordered on surreal, he held a finger up to me in a “please wait” motion.
“Wai?” he said as he brought the phone to his ear. I had seen enough Jackie Chan movies to know Chinese when I heard it.
He listened to his caller then issued back several sentences in startlingly fast Chinese. His eyes had not left mine, and I felt paralyzed and pinned by his gaze.
The call lasted less than a minute before he abruptly hung up. I hadn’t understood a word of what he’d said. He put his phone away and folded his arms over his chest, declining to give any indication of what that exchange was about. I trembled harder. For all I knew, those had been the orders to end my life because I wasn’t being cooperative.
I had to think of something—anything—to improve this situation.
“Why are you bothering with me?” I asked, trying to feel out his offer.
“I have strange gifts,” he replied, looking down at me. “You’ll have heard of me: the Auspex.”
That explained more than it didn’t about the man in front of me. Water Clan’s magical gifts tended to be very physical in nature—shapeshifting, spatial control, elemental control, healing—but it was known that Water had a powerful member who could see truths and intentions within people and read the future. Gifts not seen in any clan save Wind for ages, and even then, they were weak and rare.
Auspex, from Latin: one who could interpret omens and perform divination. He was singular among all eight magical clans, his abilities formidable.
I had only heard of him in passing. I had no idea what he looked like, knew nothing personal about him at all. The magician in front of me was as likely to be him as not, but I could believe it. There was something behind his level gaze that told me he understood more than he let on.
“I’ll ask you again,” he said slowly. “Who sent you to Vienna to kill me, and how did you know we would be there?”
I said nothing. I cursed my clan, cursed the very existence of clans and their schemes. I hadn’t known we were going up against someone so powerful in this raid. The Auspex could see the future. If that wasn’t a recipe for failure, what was? I suddenly felt very cold. Who in my group had known our target was the Auspex, and had they really thought we could take him down? Watching him now, it looked like nothing could take him down.
But I wasn’t going to bend under that glare so easily. I wasn’t young and naive. I wasn’t insecure. I had done my best. It hadn’t been good enough this time, but I was still worth something, if only to myself. I looked him in the eye, trying to convey to him the same a
mount of cold displeasure he was offering to me in his expression.
A long moment passed before he shook his head and laughed softly. He walked very close to the shield. His magic shifted closer to me, and I forced myself not to recoil from his suffocating presence.
He pursed his lips in what my confused mind thought might be approval, then he offered me a brilliant smile. “There’s that fire I saw in you before.”
I was so shocked by his words that I didn’t have any idea how to respond. He walked away, his footsteps sounding for a long time down the hall, leaving me to wonder what would come next.
Chapter 2
The adrenaline rush of defying the Auspex in my own little way wore off approximately thirty seconds after he disappeared. My hands were shaking again, and my chest was tight. I took two deep breaths and put my palms to my face, then held them out in front of me, examining my shackles.
I had seen magic-limiting devices many times before, but none like these. These were cuffs of banded metal, cold and heavy as stone. They were connected by a short chain, barely allowing more than a few inches of leeway between my hands. I wiggled them and pulled at them, but they were painfully tight against my skin.
I’d had the unpleasant experience of being shackled once before. It had been part of a training exercise to get us used to fighting when captured and without magic, and it had not gone well for me. There was no way I was calling up my magic. I couldn’t even feel my connection to it right now, and I felt hollow without it.
For the first time since waking up, I stood, wincing as pain shot through my bruised body. I shook my head, dizzy and ill, my stomach writhing in fear and anxiety.
I walked the length of the room and back, and then the entire perimeter. It was a ten-by-fifteen-foot rectangle with a tile floor. The ceiling was high, with the dim lights far out of reach. There were two cameras in the far corners of the room. I studied them. Was the Auspex watching me? Was anyone?
The window also had a magic shield covering it, glimmering in my vision. It was very dark outside, but there were tall buildings and lights in the distance, and what looked like water. The ocean, maybe, or a large river. Craning my head to look down, I could barely make out empty streets with streetlights far below. I thought I could see the faded sign of storefronts, but they were so distant and blurry that I couldn’t even make out the language on them. Definitely a city, no doubt very far from my home.
As far as I knew, Water had no strong presence near Toronto, where my own clan house was located.
I sat on the mat again, shivering, eyeing the Auspex’s jacket.
What the hell, I thought. Why not?
For whatever obtuse reason, he didn’t want me dead yet. I didn’t know if I should take any sort of hope from that sentiment, but I reached for his jacket anyhow.
It was made from a supple canvas with fleece lining, much too large for me. It smelled like sandalwood and herbs and refreshing rain, and I hated myself for breathing in the sweet scent as I draped it around myself. I turned to the window and stared out, willing the sun to rise, plan after useless plan forming and collapsing in my mind.
I had barely gotten any rest, my mind racing all night, fitfully tossing on the hard floor. It was near dawn, and I had finally managed to sleep for a little while.
My eyes snapped open, the image of a bloodthirsty white wolf fading, replaced by blinding light. The sun had almost fully risen, and now I could see green mountains and water in the distance melding with towering, glittering buildings. It took a moment to remember where I was.
My throat was parched, my stomach twisting in on itself in hunger, my head and bruised face throbbing dully.
I groaned and rolled over—to be met with the Auspex’s steely gaze. I was so groggy and disoriented I hadn’t even noticed that his magic was all around, pressing into me.
I pushed myself into an upright position, grimacing in pain, startled. He was sitting cross-legged against the wall on the other side of the shield. In his hands was a takeout container filled with food, twin to the one on the floor a foot away from my mat. Two large bottles of water stood next to it, reminding me of my burning throat.
“Fiona,” he said calmly, with an oddly genial incline of his head, picking through his food with chopsticks.
His magic wasn’t in immense coils today. Instead, it was poised like a cast net, glinting and scintillating like a vast snowy field or an endless stretch of ocean.
Immaculate, I thought, despite myself.
The Auspex was giving me the same cold and unreadable look as the previous night. He was now dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt, with a dark gray blazer artfully left unbuttoned.
I blinked, tearing my eyes from him with effort and refocusing on the bottles of water. I fell upon them, drinking one without pause.
“What are you doing?” I asked once my eyes had strayed back to him. I found the scene so strange that I had forgotten for a moment he was my enemy and that I shouldn’t make casual conversation with him.
“Eating breakfast.”
No elaboration, and his tone seemed to imply my question was pointless and stupid—probably true.
I fell upon the food next, popping the container’s top to the delicious smell of white rice and roast pork. It wasn’t the bacon cheeseburger or the heaping plate of chicken parmesan that would have made me feel warm and safe, but it was proof that I probably wouldn’t be dying in the next few minutes. I would take what I could get. I ate quickly, forcing myself to swallow each bite. I needed all the strength I could get, for whatever I faced next.
It was impossible to ignore the Auspex as he sat across from me, although I tried my best. He didn’t speak, but occasionally I caught him casting his intense gaze my way. In the morning sun, I could see that his eyes were actually a light and beautiful shade of cinnamon brown, captivating and golden. Their warm color softened his stern expression.
He finished his food before I did, pushing the empty container away and moving closer to the shield.
“I think I’ve been quite fair,” he began, his hurt tone slightly mocking. “Food, water, a quiet place to sleep. No interrogation, no torture. I’ve been kind enough to answer your questions and offer you my favorite jacket. But I told you that I’m not patient. You are going to have to give now. I’m not impressed by your uncooperativeness.”
“Sorry?” I said sarcastically.
He laughed. “It’s my own fault. I thought something could be done with you. Now? I’m not so sure.”
“I don’t want to betray my clan,” I said, looking directly at him, setting down my food so that I could move closer to the shield. We were so near to one another that a short lunge could have had his hands around my neck. I bristled, my chest still tight.
This statement appeared to amuse him even more. He smiled.
“Your clan?” he asked. He laughed softly again. “Oh, little lamb.”
He stood. With a flick of his left hand, the shackles dropped from my wrists. I was so stunned that I fell backward onto my palms. In an instant, I weighed my options. I couldn’t fight a commander with no weapons or advantages of my own, especially one so clearly powerful and competent. And if he truly was the Auspex, I had no idea the extent of his powers. It might be that he could read my mind, knew my future plans, or was able to control my every move.
But I had to try, didn’t I? Wasn’t that what this was all for? Wasn’t that what I had done in Vienna? What I had done when I had first been captured? I wasn’t going to give up yet.
I lunged for the shield, simultaneously grabbing for that power deep within me, the power of Flame Clan—boundless, brilliant fire. I could burn my way through the building, but only if I could get past the Auspex first.
Burn the whole place to the ground like the Flame I was.
My palms landed flat on the shield, a foot from his face. He didn’t move an inch, didn’t even so much as flinch. His expression was curious, expectant.
But my magic didn�
��t come at my call.
Nothing did.
Normally I would feel the surge of untamed power, frightening and comforting at the same time. Part of me, yet wholly different. Flame magic and I had always gotten along well, despite its penchant for killing or harming its hosts. It had always filled me with strength and pride. But nothing was there. I tried to draw it up again.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
The Auspex laughed, clapping his hands together in delight.
“So you see,” he said, as though continuing a very interesting story, “they have betrayed you first. They’ve withdrawn their magic. You aren’t even dead yet, but that doesn’t matter. You’re already dead to them.”
His feral smile reappeared. “Come now. I know you aren’t stupid. Flame sent four people after me. Only four, and only one of you was a lieutenant. I had been expecting something like an assassination attempt for weeks, and in the end, that’s all I get? Not even a commander? I’m almost offended. Perhaps my reputation is not as prominent as I had believed? They didn’t tell you who you were up against. It’s hard to imagine they wanted any of you to come back, to send you so very unprepared.
“Were you disposable, do you think? I have your phone somewhere. Shall I call up your commander and ask why they wanted to get rid of you so much? Wouldn’t you like to know why they abandoned you here? Now you are clanless. No one to save you, no one to care. Poor, lost little lamb.”
I hated him. Bitter, cloying anger drenched me. I wanted to punch him, to wipe the smug expression off his face, to show him that I wouldn’t stand for being taunted and belittled.
I wouldn’t let him see me cry or break down. He seemed like the type who might enjoy it too much. I didn’t want him to know how much it hurt to think that my clan—my family—had abandoned me. I didn’t want him to see that grief choked me when I thought about how all I had worked toward was gone. There was no feeling within me. I truly was hollowed out and empty, completely numb.
