by Candy Crum
Arryn continued studying the room, taking in the mahogany desk and bookshelves that lined the room. As her eyes reached the window, she saw a familiar bag sitting there, covered in dust. It had been her mother's. The very emergency bag that Elayne had packed for their escape.
Arryn walked over and picked it up, setting it on the desk before opening it. Inside, she found her mother's clothing, some emergency supplies, and a canteen of water. Arryn thought back to that night, to all the confusion.
She laughed, but it wasn't happy or amused, having finally come to understand something. "She knew she wasn't going to survive that night." Arryn looked up to Cathillian, holding the canteen in her hand before placing it back in the bag. "My bag was right next to hers. There's no way she forgot it. She purposely didn't bring it."
"You’re her daughter. You’d sacrifice yourself in a heartbeat if that meant saving the life of any other person you cared for."
She nodded as she thought his words over. "You're right. I sometimes doubt myself, but when I stop and think about it, I would die to protect anyone that I loved. I may not do it skillfully, or intelligently, or even valiantly, but I would do it. I’d take a sword to the gut to save your life.”
“Aw! See? You do love me!” Cathillian said, placing his hand over his heart with a sarcastic smile. “Keep denying it all you want, though. I’ll continue pretending that I believe it.”
Arryn rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to spread across her lips. “I’d also do that for your mother—or your grandfather. You cocky prick. And thank you. I will keep denying it. Being mean to you is an excellent way to cure boredom.”
Cathillian stepped closer, placing his hand over hers as it rested on the edge of the bag. "All that aside, you have a lot to give to this world, and I have a feeling you'll have plenty of chances to make her proud."
Arryn turned her hand over, giving Cathillian's a quick squeeze before letting go, not particularly enjoying the closeness, but not wanting to be rude and push him away either.
While she and Cathillian had always been close, somehow it felt like there had been a change in that in the last few weeks. A change that she didn’t quite feel comfortable with given all she’d been through.
She stepped back and looked around the room and over to the window she’d jumped from that night. After opening it, she looked outside and down, seeing just how far she jumped with her mother. It was quite a long fall, but the straw that had been placed there—as well as her mother—had gone a long way to cushion the descent.
"I clung to this window, looking at my father and watching him speak to my mother, but with my racing heart and terrified thoughts, they drowned out anything that he said to her. I remember it perfectly, but I can't remember what he said because I didn't really hear it. I only saw his lips move.”
She sighed as she thought back, hoping that physically being there would spark something. “There was something big he told her, the entire reason we were forced out of Arcadia. The entire reason he was taken. Even if it’s pointless to know now because it would do no good, I need to find out what that was. If it was important enough for him to be threatened and then have his family attacked, then it was important enough for me to find out."
" Maybe Amelia could help. She mentioned having people you might talk to. That one—Doyle or whatever—was his closest friend. Maybe they'll find him, and he'll know what got him taken."
Arryn pulled back inside and closed the window before turning to Cathillian. "There’s one thing that gives me hope above everything else."
"Yeah? What's that?" he asked.
"There's no blood anywhere in this room. I half expected to see large, red stains all over the floor in here from all those years ago, but there's none. That means he was alive when they took him. Maybe he still is."
Arryn jumped as Cathillian spun around toward the door, unsheathing his sword in one fluid motion as he did. When he stopped, Arryn saw the blade resting against the throat of a woman.
"Who the hell are you, and what do you want?" Cathillian asked, his voice suddenly cold.
The woman's eyes were wide, but without questioning it, Arryn knew it had nothing to do with the sword. Her focus was entirely on Arryn. Tears filled her eyes before spilling over onto her cheeks.
"I-It’s… Impossible… Arryn?"
Arryn's brows furrowed as she looked the woman over, trying to figure out who she was. There was a long scar down the left side of her face, and it looked like it had been very deep, like it could've killed her when it happened.
"Who are you?" Arryn asked.
Cathillian slowly pulled the sword away, keeping it at the ready just in case. The woman fell to her knees, her jaw slightly parted as her eyes stayed locked on Arryn.
"I-I don't believe it," she said. "It's really you. All these years, I thought you were dead. I was a few years younger than you are now when you left, so I don't blame you for not recognizing me. I've changed quite a bit, too. Even with all that change, you still look just like her. My name is Celine. I'm Elayne’s little sister—your aunt."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Talia's trip to Cella had gone far better than expected. It had been very productive and enlightening. Not only did her visit with their Governor go over well, but her run in with Scarlett had been surprising, too.
Using her charm had gone a long way—just as she'd imagined it would. With only mild flirting, the Governor was more than willing to send men within three days of her leaving.
In fact, he agreed to send her a hundred men as long as Cella would get a discounted cost from the goods they purchased for the first three months. He’d originally wanted six, but Talia talked him down to three.
His other request was that his beloved son, Nathaniel, be allowed to travel to Arcadia and attend the Academy without fees. She wasn't exactly sure if those terms would piss Amelia off or not, but she imagined that any money coming in would be better than none, and the help would be worth the cost.
So—she agreed. And with Amelia’s preference for access for all, how could she argue?
Still, that little meeting had only been for show. Her entire trip there was strictly to preserve and even grow her good name. Not even Mousy Marie had gotten a hundred men. Talia loved competition, but her real success was elsewhere.
Something had seemed off about Scarlett when Talia had met her at the school. An unknown but worrisome trait that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Scarlett was confident, strong, but so was the Chancellor. It didn’t take that much to be a strong-willed woman.
This was different—darker. More seductive like Talia’s confidence.
It was something Talia hadn't seen in the initial interview and that Scarlett had restrained during the tour, but it had been in full force there in Cella. Scarlett was no longer hiding anything.
She was a mystic.
Not a form of magic that Talia had much experience with personally, but Scarlett was much like Selah, the mystic leader that her father had once told her about, but altogether different.
Talia remembered the interaction as she traveled back to Arcadia, replaying it through her mind as she mulled over her level of interest in creating a friendship with someone she knew little about.
"You are the secret love child of the past Chancellor, Adrien, aren't you?" Scarlett had asked.
Talia’s eyes had gone wide, unable to believe that the woman could have figured her out after having only met a single time. Talia's hand had shot out from under her light cloak, power resonating from it as she then swung it to the right, sending Scarlett flying into the wall of a building next to her.
She held the mystic there, pinned to the wall with Talia’s telekinesis as she slowly walked forward, looking over her shoulders to make sure no one was around. "Who the hell are you?"
Scarlett swallowed nervously. "I’m a lot of things, but mainly an opportunist. I was curious to see what became of Arcadia, and I wanted to see exactly how strong their forces were.
For having just reclaimed the city, they seem to be doing surprisingly well. Certainly not a foe I would want to cross. At least, not alone.”
Talia narrowed her eyes. “So happy to hear it. Get to your point. If not… I have a free hand, and there’s a sharp stone on the ground that’s going to find its way into your heart.”
Scarlett squirmed against Talia's hold, but it was no use. “I spent a few days in the city, studying everyone, looking for something that might help me take the city. Then I saw you—in the bar, hiding no less. You were quite—tipsy to say the least. Large pitcher of my people’s brew if I'm not mistaken. Under the influence, your head was very easy to get into."
Talia knew all about the mystical arts. It was a subject her father had taught her at length about. He told her she should never let her guard down, always keep her mind hidden.
There had even been a way to sense when someone was looking in her thoughts, which she had done when Amelia had gotten a bit nosy during her interview.
Amelia, however, was a novice, so it was easy to think only of positive things since the Chancellor’s power limited her only to the surface—not to deeper, hidden memories.
Talia had allowed her to only see the happy childhood she had with her mother on the farm and pure intentions in working for the Academy.
Her mother was a woman that Amelia had never seen before and therefore couldn’t recognize. Permitting Amelia into her head enough to see those peaceful things had secured her position.
Apparently, Scarlett was just as good at hiding herself from the Chancellor, much to Talia’s dismay.
"And what exactly do you plan to do with this information?" Talia had asked, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils slightly flared with obvious annoyance that bordered on rage. It was a thin line from one to the next with her. "I will warn you now, I do not take threats lightly."
The woman smiled. "Oh, I don't threaten. I come bearing gifts! Once I saw in your head, I applied for a position. You intrigued me. What you plan to do, you'll never do alone. Even I won’t risk doing it alone. In fact, if that Chancellor of yours takes many more mystical lessons, we’ll be screwed. She's been training with Julianne which means you—or better yet—we need to move a bit faster."
"Julianne’s the master mystic now, is she not? Wouldn't that make Julianne your leader as well?" Talia had asked.
"There are many things you need to learn. But for now, I’ll stick to the basics. You have an opening with that student of yours, Jackson. While I think you’ve started down a very positive road with him, I think we can quicken the trip. You need more than just one or two people on your side. All this must be done very delicately, very strategically. Understand?"
Talia had looked her over, lowering the mystic to the ground. Talia stared at the woman, wondering exactly what her game was. "I'll not be thrown off course. I don't know you. I sure as hell don't trust you. You’ll not deter or overthrow me. You may have the mystical arts, but I can promise you I'm not someone you want as an enemy."
"I assure you I have no such intentions. We’ll talk more later. For now, I believe you have business to attend to. I’ll see you back in Arcadia, and we can continue our discussion there. Just keep this in mind," Scarlett had said before walking away.
Talia couldn't deny that she was getting more and more excited as time went on, thinking about what she might accomplish with help. She knew she would need it, but she never imagined it coming along quite like it had.
As she made her way back to the Arcadian gate, she wondered exactly what Scarlett had in mind with Jackson. Talia agreed there was a lot more that could be done with him, but her intention was to move slow, steady, making no mistakes.
Moving too quickly could have major repercussions. Still, whether she liked to admit it or not, Amos's words did stick with her just as he'd threatened they would.
Bastard.
She knew she needed to begin sooner rather than later or risk having her plans thwarted if someone found her out. She just hoped the mystic was true to her word and wouldn’t be said downfall. Otherwise, she was in for a world of hurt.
As Talia crossed through the Arcadian gates, her trip seeming infinitely shorter with all she'd had to think about, she thought of the Chancellor. She’d need to talk to Amelia now that she’d returned and let her know exactly what had happened in Cella.
Things would move nicely for Talia once Amelia became overjoyed and very thankful. But, she wasn't quite in the mood to deal with the Chancellor quite yet, so she headed to her office first.
When she arrived, there was a visitor waiting for her—Scarlett.
"Why, Scarlett… I’m so happy to see you found the place," Talia said sarcastically.
Scarlett smiled. "It's nice to see you, too. I headed back as soon as we finished talking. I wanted to be here when you returned. How’d your trip go? Did you accomplish what you set out to do?"
Talia set her cloak down, throwing it over the back of her chair before sitting down herself. "It went fine, thank you. I got exactly what I needed. Now, about this conversation of ours. I assume that's why you're here."
"Indeed. So, I've been thinking… What do you suppose is the root of all evil or corruption?" Scarlett asked.
Talia looked at her incredulously. "How the fuck should I know? I don't break things down into good and evil. Only things that please or displease me. Planning pleases me. Being alone in my office pleases me. My father being destroyed by a bunch of whiny little bitches that couldn't be thankful for what they had and follow a few simple rules tends to piss me off a bit."
Scarlett smiled. "I see. Well, I believe the root of all corruption is power—or the promise of power, I guess I should say. No offense, but your father was very guilty of that. It's why these people rose up against him."
Talia rolled her eyes and sighed as she leaned back in her chair, rubbing the bridge of her nose. The conversation had only just begun, and she was already about to break the woman in two.
"Yes, I'm more than aware of why they went after him. While my father was a very smart man, he could be very stupid. He ruled with an iron fist, which got him in trouble and then got him killed. I don't care about power, all I care about is vengeance. Get to your longwinded point, mystic."
"My point is we have a greater chance of getting others to follow you if they believe there’s a promise of power. They’re less likely to agree if they think they're going be killed for their actions. We have to make them feel comfortable. Strong. They need more power." Scarlett stood and walked across the room to look out the window, peering down from the Dean's office to watch the students wander around the campus.
"Power cannot be granted. I'm sure even you know this, though you clearly don't know the details. Most people have no idea where magic originates from, but I do because the Founder taught my father. Magic comes from what the old ones called nanocytes, tiny machines in our blood. Every person is born with a finite amount of them and with a finite amount of the magical effects that they bring. We cannot give more power."
Scarlett turned to face Talia, giving a dark smile. "Exactly. But they don't know that. I also know the details, thanks to Selah—long before I went out on my own. Being what I am, I know the power of deception better than most. All we have to do is convince them you're powerful enough to grant them more power."
"What exactly did you have in mind?" Talia asked, still doing her best to restrain her annoyance.
Scarlett brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face before moving across the room to stand in front of Talia’s desk. She leaned over and placed her hands flat on the wood.
“As you know, the mystics are master storytellers. There’s one story that always stuck with me when I was just a girl. In the old days, there were people, remarkable people, who fed on the blood of others. That blood gave them the power of the gods. I think it’s time we revive that legend."
Talia’s eyes narrowed again as she seriously doubted the woman’s sanity. "A placebo? Tricking
them into believing they can harness the power from someone else's blood?"
Scarlett shrugged. "Like I said, the mind is a terrible and beautiful thing. It can allow the person great power, or it can cause them to worry themselves to death. You’re smart. You hold the power in your hands to completely control each and every one of them. Promise them power, and they will come."
The idea was quite far-fetched to Talia, but she couldn't deny some truth in what the woman had told her. The mind certainly was a persuasive tool.
If her recruits believed they had access to more power, then they would be easier to mold. They would follow Talia anywhere she asked them to simply because she gave them the gift of more magic. Strength to defeat their own enemies.
After all, misery does love company.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Arryn stared for a moment at the woman claiming to be her aunt, completely dumbfounded. She remembered Celine from when they were just kids, but it was still so very hard to believe it was her. Celine was only five years older than Arryn. She had just turned fifteen when Arryn and her parents went missing.
She looked into Celine's eyes, and she saw the same rich color that her mother had. The same high cheekbones. The same long, black hair. Arryn was filled with so much happiness at that moment that she was unable to stop herself from running across the room, collapsing on the floor in front of the woman, and wrapping her hands around her.
"I don't believe it," Arryn said. "I never imagined that Adrien would've left anyone else in our family alive. I thought he'd taken everyone."
The woman shook her head, pulling away before placing her hands on either side of Arryn's face. She smiled as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I don't believe it either. Word spread that your mother was dead after the Hunters brought her body back. They carried back the corpses of two of their men and said she was a traitor. I knew that wasn't true. And with Christopher missing, too… I knew something was wrong, but I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut."
