No. I didn’t. I wanted Leland, not a letter.
Case was typing something, but unwilling to face what it was, I told him to message me when he heard from Leland and clicked off my transmitter.
Later, Skye had news from her dad. The Shadowrealm was spotted in the city of Creatus at 4:30 a.m.
After she told us the news, everyone in the academy went to search the desert for him. Everyone but me, that is. I stayed behind and removed my magic suppressants, dressed in nice, palace clothes, and swapped what I needed from my hefting satchel into a non-magical tote bag. I was going to Odessa Hall. I was going to confront Helen about the Shadowrealm.
And I was going to find out exactly what she did with Leland.
* * *
I walked to the portstop, wanting to pitch a fistful of sand at the sky, which was far too empty without a scrying orb floating above me. I trekked across the marble bridge to the palace wanting to rip my hair out. People stared. That was normal. What wasn’t normal was how long it took to get across the bridgewithout the armor of Leland’s intimidating persona, his skill for sending everyone scattering out of our way.
By the time I made it to the palace, I was hot from the effort of weaving and dodging and squeezing myself up against the bridge rail. Despite the moonale I’d chugged, I barged through the palace’s arched door with my blood overheating, ready to mow down anyone standing in my way. The fire pumping through my legs demanded sprinting, but I slowed. I could’ve burned holes through the shining marble floor, but I forced myself to walk. Because Leland had said to be docile.
Slow and harmless, I went, blinking with innocence as I padded down the long hall, ignoring the onslaught of questioning faces. Clerks, who, upon spying me, turned abruptly in the opposite direction, racing to report my presence — intrusion — to an Echelon. I turned down the office corridor.
There were eight offices, each one behind an individual, stately, arched door with an engraved and gold-painted lintel. I read the nameplates in my head — Jaxan, Ambrosia, Starvos — continuing on and on until at last, Helen.
Her office would open for me — Blackburn wards. But I had no confidence she would be in there. Or, if she was, that she wouldn’t have me detained on the spot for unlawfully entering.
Sweating, I held my breath and turned the knob.
But despite my resolve, despite there being nothing more important in that moment than finding Leland, my senses bowed to my festering insides. Staring into her office, I couldn’t see or hear or remember where I was. Everything blurred. A wave of lightheadedness had me clutching for the door jamb.
Then a small voice chirped.It’s fine. Who cares. You’re fine.You’ve always been fine without her. And with that voice close-at-hand, I fought off the inclination to tune out, to go to my imagination — the one place I didn’t have to feel the skin-crawling sensation every time I remembered her absence. Theskin-crawling sensation that was exponentially worse as I stood where she showed up every day for work.
Once my vision cleared enough for me to look around, I let out a breath of relief. Dozens of desks were set with shallow glass bowls filled with mirrorlike water for Scrying. A single shelf was reserved for silvery blue bottles of mental magic. But Helen wasn’t there. The sense of relief at not seeing her was short-lived.
Haunting, measured footsteps tolled from down the hall, and I froze.
“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Jaxan.
I opened my mouth to give an answer, but he apparently didn’t want one.
“Don’t speak,” he said, and my mouth snapped shut at the command. “You will address me in my office.Come.”
A chill ran up my spine as the door closed and Jaxan put a clawed hand on my arm to convey me to the center of the room, where he planted himself in his desk chair and commanded me to sit across from him.
“Why are you in my palace?” he asked.
Under his glare, I forgot I’d already been dishonest. I forgot I’dmade upthe rule to answer every question, that I didn’thaveto answer anyone, especially when what mattered more than punishing myself was finding Leland. I forgot all of that. Answering everything, it was muscle memory.
“I came to ask Helen where Leland is,” I blurted. The second the words left my lips, I remembered Leland saying,We don’t like each other, and amended, “The Truth-Teller. I came to ask her where theTruth-Telleris.”
“Oh? What makes you think she knows?” He folded his hands, his head tilting like a mad scientist eager to dissect more thoughts from my brain.
“The Shadowrealm,” I confessed in a hurry. Arguing withJaxan was the last thing I had time for. “It’s taking the fourth-year Aspirants. No one’s heard from Leland in fifteen hours. Shadows were spotted in Creatus this morning, and . . .”
It was Leland who had told me the Shadowrealm could be a Mentalist.A good Mentalist could convince you you’re seeing things you aren’t with a Mind Trick.I didn’t think it would go over well if I brought Leland into it, however, so I kept it vague.
“And with the rumors the Shadowrealm’s a Mind Trick,” I resumed, “I thought — yes, okay? I think Helen knows exactly where Leland is.”
“First the Shadowrealm wasme.” He tapped his desk. “Now it’s Helen? Do you understand what you’re saying when you make these accusations? The implications. Did you forget what happened the last time? That you haveone.Strike. Left.”
My brand pulsed as he looked through my bangs at it, and docile went out the window. “The Truth-Teller is yourgodson,” I said, heatedly. “Why aren’t you worried about him?”
“I am, but his spelltracks were scented in the catacombs,” he said breezily. “So was a trail of his blood, along with his bloodied footprints. There is no evidence of him being taken to the Shadowrealm. It wouldn’t be the first time he needed to go off-grid. Leland has ways of Healing himself. And I have faith in my Dark Witches’ abilities to locate him.”
