Is that why we were here? To witness a death? Why? To prove something? To make a statement?
Crap. My stomach flipped, my teeth grinding.
I don’t want to see this…
Stefan took us up the stairs connecting to the circular path that wrapped around the chamber. A panoramic window gave us a clear view into the ashy gray room with blue poles jutting out of a grating in the floor.
The shimmer witches were chained to those poles—members of the fairground group. Battered and bruised, having endured serious torture.
The High Inquisitor stopped halfway around the chamber, folding his arms behind his back. His cruel eyes locked onto the witches. He didn’t say anything, just stared at the prisoners.
Did their actions warrant an execution?
“What is this, sir?” Jake asked, breaking the silence.
“Don’t you recognize them?” Stefan asked, eyes still locked on the witches. “These are the fools who attacked you.”
Jake glanced at me. “I know, sir. Why are they here?”
Stefan swung his eyes to him. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
I didn’t flinch, but my skin itched from theinquisitor’s menacing energy. The man was one scary bastard.
“No, sir,” Jake answered. “I’m just curious as to why they’re here.”
Stefan blinked, taking several beats before speaking. “Don’t you think breaking a Hecate Crystal is affront to Hecate herself?”
“Yes, sir. But?—”
His eyes swept to me, cutting Jake off. “What about you?”
“I do, sir,” I bit out, my throat on the verge of closing.
His lips spread into a malicious smile. “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. We cannot abide this.” He touched a finger to the window, leaving a fingerprint on the glass. “Truth be told, they pose a worse threat.”
“They do?” I blurted. “Sir?”
He didn’t look at me, attention on the doomed witches. “They know about House Aurora’s return.”
Jake and I looked at each other.
Stefan pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped on the screen, and said, “Listen to this recording.”
He hit play. The inquisitor’s voice came first.
Stefan: What are you talking about?
Woman: The sunlight. I’ve been thinking about it and that wasn’t a spell, was it?
Stefan: An interesting take. Do elaborate.
Woman: There’s been a story passed down through my family about The Sun from my great-grandma’s time. Christopher Aurora. He was her friend, and the sunlight he wielded was incredible. Hot and blinding and debilitating, as if sunshine was an enemy. I’ll never forget hearing that, always wanting to experience it for myself.
A lot of the Aurora history got scrubbed from public memory over the years. Tidbits remained, but it wasn’t easy to find information outside of what the High Coven allowed people to know.
Having this information wouldn’t work in the woman’s favor. I shuddered again, anxiety a rusty spike in my chest.
Stefan: Is that so?
