by Casey Lane
Anastasia’s eyes darkened, just like they had last night on the tarmac after I hit her. “You are out of line, Fortier. You were asked to vote, not make speeches. Time is of the essence, and—”
“Time? We haven’t even seen a body, yet you walked into this room and declared yourself Head of—”
“Servitude or death. Those are your only choices. Another word, and I will have you stripped of your title and thrown from this courtroom. Do not underestimate me, Fortier,” Anastasia threatened. Her dark energy was already traveling when Evelyn spoke.
“Servitude,” she whispered.
A small part of me shattered, because no matter how well-intentioned her decision was, there were some paths even the dragon couldn’t see. Some places even the Mother couldn’t walk.
My mouth went dry. It opened and closed, but no words came out. She had me. Owned me.
I wanted to weep, but there was no time for tears. I could save those for my pillow at night.
Milla’s words echoed in my mind.
“Your clock still ticks, Johanna. You know your purpose.”
My purpose. End this. Find the Foster girl.
Milla had told me my time was not over, and I’d promised my parents I would avenge them. I’d promised Xun I would find a better world. I’d promised Jayma I would make one.
“Johanna Kozak, you have been tried and found guilty. The Council has voted, and you are now property of House Fortescue,” she said.
I leaned back in my chair, tilting my head slightly as I gaped at her audacity. “I was under the impression that the Council owned me,” I said slowly.
Some of the Council Members looked up, narrowing their eyes. Others looked like they agreed, and even some, like Evelyn Fortier, looked both sick and royally pissed off.
“Excuse me, Miss Kozak, but you are property, and property doesn’t talk back,” Anastasia said, twirling a piece of hair as if she were already bored of me. There was no way she would want me dead so badly just to change her mind and argue for this. I didn’t give a flying fuck what she said; she’d probably killed her grandfather too. Something had happened.
“Bring them in,” she said suddenly.
The oak doors were opened once more to reveal my cohort of friends, half-breed and Supernatural alike.
I moved aside to offer Milla my seat, and the guard shoved her roughly down into the chair.
“Watch it, prick,” I cursed.
He struck out, an attempt to backhand me, and I ducked, sweeping his feet out from underneath him before the other guard grasped my shoulders.
“Put her down!” one of the Council Member’s bellowed at my actions.
“She’s an abomination,” called another.
Evelyn looked away guiltily, and I wondered what had fuelled her decision to keep me alive. It clearly wasn’t for me. Every person in this room knew that I would rather die than face whatever awaited me…but I wouldn’t. For Jayma, I reminded myself again, letting the guards grab my arms and force me to the ground.
“Release her.”
The guard holding me paused before removing his hands.
I looked up at the only person who had the power to give such a command.
“She will obey. They all will. Won’t you, children?” he asked softly, almost caressingly.
She sounded like she was starting to crack, but I chose not to say so. I preferred not having the guard’s hands on me in any form or fashion. Oliver was positioned on my right, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth in defiance. I scowled at his flippancy and looked to the others. He didn’t realise what I’d been sentenced to yet. None of them did. Except Milla. She sat in my rickety chair, opaque eyes as cloudy and pensive as the eye of a storm.
Anastasia swept her gaze over them and turned immediately back to me. “For your crimes, you have all been enlisted to help fight in the war against the Made. Think of it as a goodwill gesture. Probation, if you will. You will serve the council for the foreseeable future, and be tried at a later date. Only if you’ve proven your loyalty to the Council, will the charges against you be dropped.” She paused here for dramatic effect, her eyes turning angry and hateful. “My beloved grandfather was killed today because of a hole in security you exposed and exploited. Frankly, your lives should be forfeit. I give the orders, and you will obey. Step out of line, and you will be punished. Do it again, and one of your compatriots will be punished. This is not a game, children. If you are so powerful that a handful of you could get through security to break this girl out, taking on the Vampire High Council shouldn’t be a problem.”
“And what of Johanna?” Oliver asked. He was being far more flamboyant than he needed to be. His casual use of my first name was enough to pique the interest of some in the chamber. I wanted to kick him for his stupidity.
“Johanna will be joining you, provided she proves herself useful and obedient. When she ceases to be of use, she will be hanged for her crimes against Jayma Balewa.” She smirked, watching me struggle to be obedient.
I bit my lip so hard it bled.
Oliver did the bravest and stupidest thing he’d ever done. He wrapped an arm around me in comfort, his own silent protest to my mistreatment by his world.
Anastasia rolled her eyes, and Evelyn Fortier looked like she was about to rip her son’s arm out of its socket. She may have loved me, but Oli was her baby.
“You would do well to learn now, boy, that the company you keep can have dire consequences for you and yours.” Anastasia was frank with her statement, and Oliver’s mother blanched at the threat.
Oliver, though, didn’t tense next to me; oh no, he was too cocky for that. That bastard grinned up at his Head of Council and said, “Right and wrong are relative, Council Member, depending whose lens you wear.”
It was a rebellious statement, crafted in the pretty words the Council liked so much. I loved him all the more for it, idiot boy though he was for saying it.
“Your silver tongue is amusing at best, Fortier.”
Oliver’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond. His mother looked about ready to skin him for dancing on already thin ice.
“My Lady!” a servant called out, running down the hall.
Anastasia looked up, clearly annoyed, until her eyes lit up with interest.
“The tele—”
“That will be all. Leave. Now,” she snapped, holding up a hand.
I glanced sideways at the young Supernatural, who skulked away. I hoped Alec was a long way from here right now.
“I call an end to this hearing, as I have urgent business to attend to. Funeral arrangements must be made for the last Head of Council. You may go.”
The Council splintered into two factions: those who lingered to speak with their children and those who grovelled at Anastasia’s feet, even if they would both put an end to her if given the chance.
I remained still, not knowing yet what I was allowed to do or where to go.
Oliver tugged me closer. “We’ll work around it, find a way out. We always do. Just promise me one thing,” he whispered. His voice was so low I barely heard him. There was no way the others would.
“I’ve been sentenced to slavery and then death. Not much I can promise, Oli,” I whispered back. His mother was slowly making her way towards us.
“No matter what happens—”
“Oliver, you are a damned fool. How dare you behave in such a manner? We were already—”
“Mother, please. Everything will be fine, but it’s time for you to go home. I will be in touch when I can,” he said firmly. His eyes, however, pleaded.
Her own softened, barely, before she turned to me. “You take care of him, Johanna. Bring him home safely.”
I smiled sadly, bowing my head. “I promise. I will not fail again.”
And I meant it.
There wouldn’t be another failure.
He wouldn’t die. I’d promised Jayma that as she died in my arms. I would protect him, just like he protected me.
> “How touching. Let’s hope your sentiments don’t get in the way of your work,” Anastasia cut in. “When I give an order, you carry it out, without question. Protest, you die. Fail, you die. Your lives are in my hands. Prove useful, you shall be rewarded. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Madam Fortescue,” Milla sang from my left.
Oliver did extremely well to hide his smirk as Donte and Liam sniggered. We’d just been sentenced to servitude for a timeframe without an end date, and they were bloody mocking her.
Anastasia narrowed her eyes and turned to a guard. “See that they’re watched closely. I expect them clean, suitably dressed, and ready to move out within the hour.” Turning her attention fully on me, she added, “You will be my alpha team in this war. You are the spear in my hand. I expect your absolute best, Miss Kozak. Anything less will have, shall we say, dire consequences. You have an hour to prepare yourselves. Now get out of my sight.”
We were escorted from the Council chamber rapidly while Anastasia watched, her eyes never leaving us. I spoke quietly, not loud enough for the Council to hear.
“Honour wears many coats, as does right and wrong. We have a long way to go. Stay on the path, and the Mother will guide us. The dragon will call.”
One of the guards butted me in the back of the head, telling me to shut up. The others didn’t need to hear it, not really. We’d been in some pretty tough situations before.
“You know, Jo, maybe you’re not so full of it,” Scarlett said.
“Or perhaps, Scarlett, you’re merely not as blind,” Milla said simply, somehow knowing just where to look.
We were treading dangerous waters here, but it seemed that somehow the universe had bought us time. We would live and find the girl, the one who would bring this whole bloody Council to its knees. Starting with Anastasia Fortescue.
And even if it killed me, I would be here to watch the new dawn rise, as a millennium of oppression came crumbling down.
* * *
The End
Continue the Daizlei Academy Series with Heir of Shadows and Scion of Midnight.
www.kelcarpenter.com
About the Author
Kel Carpenter:
Born in Olympia, WA, Kel Carpenter has lived in over twenty-five houses and four different states, all inside the US. Kel started writing in high school where the origins for her original series, Heir of Shadows, began. It was then that writing changed her life. Fast forward, and Kel is now twenty-one and attending college in Atlanta, GA, where she studies Chemistry and English. She has many wonderful friends and her two-year-old German Shepard, Harley (the self-professed love of her life). They spend their afternoons hunting Pokémon and unknown coffee shops along the streets of Atlanta—when she's not at work or in class that is.
To learn more and continue the series go to:
kelcarpenter.com
* * *
Carrie Whitethorne:
Originating from a small mining town in South Yorkshire, Carrie Whitethorne lives on the edge of the Lake District National Park with her husband and two children.
An avid reader of fantasy and dystopian novels, Carrie discovered her love of books and of writing at a young age. She has always had a keen interest in British folklore and incorporates this into her writing.
Now fulfilling her lifelong ambition of becoming a published author, Carrie's Debut novel, Riftkeepers Prime, and its sequel, are available now. Part three of the Riftkeepers series is set for publication in 2017.
To learn more about Carrie’s work go to:
http://www.carriewhitethorne.co.uk
