Lifting my left hand above my head, I sent a quick summon spell out into the ether before turning my full attention to Reave. I cast a second spell that lifted the elf out of the brush and held him above the ground before me. Blood poured down his face from his swollen nose and an array of scratches. His breathing was rough and shallow while his eyes remained unfocused, lost in the grips of severe pain.
Lightning forked and spiderwebbed across the sky, followed by a loud boom of thunder. The elves I could see jerked and stared at the sky, missing the sudden appearance of Gideon at my side. There was a sharp gasp when they noticed him. They shrank back into the shadows. Only the king remained standing in the open at the mouth of the cave.
“You look like hell.” Gideon’s eyes swept over my torn shirt and dirty jeans. He then looked briefly at Reave and gave a shrug. “Well, better than him at least.”
“Always a pleasure, Gideon,” I said sarcastically, feeling both exhausted and nervous. Step one of my plan was complete: capture Reave. The hard part was coming next: survive a meeting with the council.
“I need you to do me a favor,” I said, pulling my thoughts free of my growing fears. “Call an emergency meeting of the council.” Gideon didn’t move a muscle. I was asking a lot. I was putting his life at risk because he was supposed to be the one policing me. “It’s okay. You’re taking me . . . with him.”
The warlock’s eyes darted to Reave, who was starting to sweat despite the chill in the air. “He’s the one?”
“Yeah.”
For a second, rage filled Gideon’s cold, gray eyes but the rest of his face was like stone. He turned those hard eyes on me. “Are you sure?”
He wasn’t asking if I was sure Reave was the culprit. He was wondering about my decision to go before the council. I shrugged. “We both know I don’t have a choice.”
“Do you have your wand on you?”
A sigh escaped me as I looked over my shoulder at the dark woods. I was half tempted to call the broken pieces to me, but there was no point. The magic from the wand had already discharged back into my body. The only thing resting on the forest floor was a pair of broken sticks. “No. No wand.”
“Good.” Gideon reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder, preparing to teleport both me and Reave to whichever Tower was going to hold the meeting. By now, the information would have come back to Gideon. I could have done it myself, but I was afraid that if I announced that I was coming to the Towers, they’d ambush me and kill me on sight.
“Wait!” I shouted, and stepped away from Gideon while staring up at where the king was watching us. “I’m taking Reave and I will be sure the Towers know he acted alone, but . . .” I frowned, feeling helpless. “Well, it’s the Towers we’re talking about. If I were you, I’d move my people tonight.”
The king nodded, then stepped away from the edge of the cliff and disappeared into the shadows of the cave. He would move his people, disappearing deep into the forestlands of the surrounding area to protect them from any potential retaliation from the Towers. I was praying the council would be content with Reave’s life. And potentially mine.
I walked back over to Gideon and nodded. The warlock placed a firm hand on my shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze before the world went dark as we crossed a vast distance in a heartbeat. I said a silent prayer to Lady Luck that she might see me through this nightmare. I was doing the one thing that I swore I would never do. I was willingly walking back into the lion’s den after I’d barely escaped with my life the first time. Letting the Svartálfar kill me was starting to sound pretty damn good right about now.
29
THE WIND WAS bitter cold as it swept across the black field, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if snowflakes started drifting down from the sky. Based on the fact that it was still night and fucking cold, I knew we were standing outside the upstate New York Tower. The gleaming white monolith rose up toward the heavens. It should have looked like a beacon of hope to the world, but the world couldn’t see this structure because of the thick web of protective spells that stretched around the area. Of course, if the world could see the Tower, they would have viewed it as a giant bony middle finger. They would have been right.
Gideon pointed his wand, his face expressionless as he motioned for me to lead the way through the wood-and-iron-banded door in front of me. A giant could have walked through the massive opening without needing to duck his head down. I never understood why they had made it so big since everyone who entered walked on two human feet. I guess it was made to intimidate, but sadly warlocks and witches didn’t intimidate easily.
This was my first visit to the New York Tower, but all the Towers looked the same. The exterior was a mix of white marble and pale granite, while the interior halls were covered in red-veined black marble. The individual rooms were customized to the tastes of the inhabiting witch or warlock, ranging from the spartan to the extravagant.
It was after midnight and the halls of the Tower were nearly silent, but then the Towers were rarely ever noisy, as if idle conversation had been forbidden by the council. A few people paused as they passed through the halls to stop and stare. Lips curled with disgust at the sight of a beaten and bleeding dark elf, but eyes narrowed speculatively when they spotted me. I doubted anyone would recognize me. Oh, all the people of the Towers knew my name, but few had ever seen me and even fewer knew of my altered appearance.
We moved silently down the hall to a large opening. There was no elevator car as you would expect, just an empty shaft that ran from the top of the tower to several floors below the earth. Without hesitating, I stepped into the emptiness, my feet finding an invisible platform. Gideon and Reave were immediately behind me.
“Council chambers,” Gideon said in a strong voice.
The invisible floor fell away and we dropped into the darkness, my stomach instantly becoming swept away. Reave screamed, the horrible sound echoing throughout the shaft, so that everyone within the Tower could hear it. I closed my eyes and clamped my mouth shut, willing myself to trust the magic despite my own desire to scream. The worst had always been when a new apprentice was brought to the Tower. The child’s screams could be heard for weeks echoing through the building until the apprentice grew accustomed to this mode of travel.
Just when you were sure you would slam into the earth, breaking every bone in your body, a gentle force surrounded you, slowing your descent so you landed softly on another platform at your desired floor. I opened my eyes to find us on the bottom floor. Torchlight danced along the walls of the narrow hallway that ended in another set of enormous black doors. The walls and floor were black. The wall sconces were black iron. The only color was the flickering flames.
I stepped out of the shaft first with Reave floating just above the ground behind me. Gideon hadn’t bothered to heal his knee and kept him in a physical binding spell. There was no reason to heal him so long as he could talk and scream. As we walked down the hall, the doors automatically opened to reveal a room almost as big as the entire Tower was round. When we entered, it was like walking into a wall of noise after passing through so many silent halls. A quick glance revealed that all twelve members of the council were present. Only one seat was vacant, but then a new member had yet to be elected following Peter’s death. They were all dressed in the classic black robes, but in place of their wands were long wooden staves topped with different-colored orbs.
The twelve council members were on a dais so that they could easily look down on the supplicants and accused. Before them was an open floor that was a strange mix of a courtroom floor and an arena for gladiators. At the opposite end of the room were several rows of seats for people to watch the proceedings. To my displeasure, every seat in the place was taken. I had prayed that due to the lateness of the hour, I would come before only the council members, but I had a feeling that because of the high stress caused by recent events, everyone was waiting for news with bated breath.
As we neared the center of the room,
one of the council warlocks pounded his staff on the floor twice. A moment later, the double door banged closed, sending a horrible echo through my chest. Please, let those doors open for me again.
“Mr. Powell, this is an unexpected visit,” Henry Fox called down to me. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to make a snide remark. These assholes weren’t going to make it easy on me, but starting a fight with the council would not help me see daylight again. “And you even dressed for the occasion.”
I stood, stiff and sore, staring straight ahead at the cold, black stone wall that made up the front of their dais, refusing to acknowledge Fox’s comments. I knew as soon as I said one word to the prick, he’d bring up the fact that I’d used forbidden magic in a fight that he witnessed—getting both myself and Gideon in trouble. Sure, that fucking asshole started the fight, but I wasn’t sure there were many in the room who would care about this technicality.
“Master Toussaint,” one witch on the council started a bit wearily. I nearly looked around to see who she was addressing when it dawned on me that she was talking to Gideon. I knew his last name, but I hadn’t heard it used in a long time. “It seems that Mr. Powell has finally given you a reason to bring him before us. It’s a shame it couldn’t wait for a more agreeable hour.”
There was a soft rustle of material behind me, making me think that Gideon had bowed to the council. “I am sorry about the lateness of the hour, but I felt that due to the urgency of our current situation, it would be best if this were handled as soon as possible.”
It was a struggle not to roll my eyes. The warlock could be as smooth as silk when he wanted to be, not that he ever wasted it on me. He was diplomatic, with only the faintest touch of lips to ass to keep all the feathers unruffled. It was yet another reason why I couldn’t survive in the Towers.
“Really?” another warlock said.
“Yeah, I heard that the Towers were in a bit of a fix,” I said, my gaze darting up to the sour faces glaring down at me.
“And how would you know about the concerns of the Towers?” the same warlock demanded, his voice growing stiffer as he straightened in his high-backed wooden chair. You’d think if they were going to be stuck in those chairs for hours on end, they’d make them out of something more comfortable, but then I guess a cushioned recliner didn’t look as intimidating.
“Well, having Indianapolis destroyed was kind of a giveaway,” I said with a shrug and a grin. “But then, you hear things when you’re living among the puny mortals. Things I’m sure you don’t want the masses to know, but one way or another, those whispers find their way to my ear.”
No one spoke for several seconds as the members looked at one another. Their faces were blank, but the buzz of energy in the air grew. A couple orbs at the end of the staves held by the council members glowed, tying a fresh knot in my stomach. The light indicated when a witch or warlock was drawing energy to her- or himself. The council members weren’t necessarily starting to cast a spell. High emotions also tended to draw and excite the energy in the air, but a glowing orb was rarely a good sign.
The council chamber was supposed to be a magic-free zone in the hopes that people could speak freely there without the fear of being vaporized. It didn’t exactly work out that way, but it was a nice idea. The room was black because it was intimidating, but I had a feeling that its designers had also chosen the color because it didn’t immediately reveal spilled blood.
“Why are the problems of the Towers your concern?” a witch asked. It was the same one who had addressed Gideon with such a tired voice. Her black hair was pulled back into a severe bun with a few thick streaks of gray threading through it. Her skin was the color of rich mahogany and she looked as if she’d be pretty if she smiled, but there was something about the lines surrounding her dark eyes that said the witch didn’t smile much.
“I guess because I would rather not see the town I’m living in wiped from the map,” I said with a little more bite than I had meant to use. Frowning, I walked over to Reave and grabbed a handful of the back of his torn and bloody shirt. “Let’s cut the crap. Someone found out the locations of the Towers. Seven of them. With my usual rotten luck, I tripped over the bastard who wormed through your glamour spells and I’ve brought him to you.” As I spoke, I gave Reave a little shake. The dark elf snarled at me, trying to twist around so that he could hurt me, but Gideon’s binding spell was holding him in place.
“Now, that is extremely generous of you, Mr. Powell,” commented a warlock with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Somehow, he managed to lounge in his chair, looking as if he were nine months pregnant and proud of it. He had been at my hearing ten years ago, but I couldn’t recall his name. He had been an asshole then too. Funny, that.
“Yes, well, since I’ve had a few witches and warlocks appear recently looking for my head because of this fiasco, I thought it would be in my best interest to clean up this mess for you.”
A little less insulting, if you don’t mind, Gideon growled in my head. I’d like to live through this nightmare.
I wanted to telepathically tell Gideon to fuck off, but I had a feeling that I was being very closely monitored—the council members would know if I was secretly speaking to my warden.
Instead, I clenched my teeth and pushed down my anger. Sure, I was the one being unjustifiably hunted and had a right to be pissed, but Gideon’s fate was largely tied to my own. If I fell tonight, there was a good chance Gideon would fall as well. Against my better judgment, I was starting to like the asshole and didn’t want to be the reason he was roasted.
“I think many who came knocking on your door felt their arrival was justified since you most likely supplied the information about the Towers’ locations,” Henry Fox said blandly.
I smiled at Fox, but it was little more than a baring of my teeth, like a dog guarding a bone against an unwelcome guest. “I may have not wanted to be a part of your club, Master Fox, but we all know that I wouldn’t betray the secrets of the Towers. That would help no one.”
Fox grinned back, a cold, evil thing. “I don’t think anyone would put betrayal past you following the death of Master Thorn.”
“When I left, I retained the right to defend myself against attack. Simon Thorn came hunting for me when he wasn’t supposed to know where I was. The bastard got what he deserved. I struggle to believe you’re mourning his death considering that he kicked your magical ass on more than one occasion.”
A low wave of noise crashed behind me, a mix of gasps, chuckles, and angry words that rippled through the room. Gideon even swore under his breath and I knew he was longing to punch me, but he held it in. Henry Fox jumped to his feet, the orb on the end of his staff glowing bright red in his rage. Everything in me screamed to gather up some energy for a defensive shield, but I was afraid that if I tried to do this, the council wouldn’t look too kindly on it. I had a right to defend myself, but I was already skating on thin ice, no reason to punch through to a frigid death.
“Master Fox!” snapped the black witch, causing his head to jerk around and look down the row to her. The orb on her staff glowed an icy, bluish white. Her slender body was extremely rigid as she stared down at him. “Sit,” she said with a hiss that silenced everyone in the chamber. Henry glared at her for several seconds before resuming his seat. The red glow dimmed at the end of his staff, but didn’t completely fade.
I won’t do that again. Curb your tongue or I’ll cut it out myself. The words drifted through my brain, cold and sharp as if someone had shoved a knife through my temple. The witch who was glaring at Fox never looked directly at me when she sent the message, but I knew she was the one who sent it.
My gut told me that she was part of the same movement as Gideon and Peter, but I wasn’t willing to bet my life on it. She may have just been concerned about determining the source of the information leak and would have been happy to see me impaled on my own wand at a later time.
“Back to the issue at hand,” Pregnant drawled as if bored by the
whole affair, but I had seen his smile at my dig at Fox. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that he was on my side. He was only amused at Fox’s embarrassment. “I’m assuming this thing that has been dragged before us is the one who located the Towers. Do you even know how he managed it?”
“Gage did it!” Reave shouted. He had been silent for so long that I had forgotten that he had the power of speech. “He told me where to find the Towers. Sent me to each location. He forced me!”
I lunged at Reave, hammering my fist into the side of his face with enough force to make him slump against the binding spell. He wasn’t unconscious, but he was close. “You fucking liar!” I snarled. “You brought this on yourself. I won’t let you drag me down with you.”
Reave’s mouth moved as if he were trying to smile. “I won’t be the only one to die today.”
I raised my fist to hit him again, but energy wrapped around me and I slid across the floor as Gideon drew me away from Reave. I wasn’t helping my case.
“Read his mind,” I said between clenched teeth as I glared at Reave. The Svartálfar was breathing in short gasps as if the pain was getting to him. Either that or it was a rising tide of panic pressing against his chest. My head snapped up to look at the council members. “Read his mind and see the truth,” I said louder. They didn’t look particularly pleased with my “request,” but one after another, each orb glowed a neutral yellow as they cast the spell to read the dark elf’s mind.
It was several seconds before anyone on the council spoke again. “Powell wasn’t involved in the information leak,” one warlock said, almost disappointed. He hadn’t spoken since I entered the room and he didn’t look particularly pleased with the revelation that I wasn’t involved. Of course, I had a few other strikes against me.
Jocelynn Drake - [Asylum Tales 02] Page 34
