“No, thank you,” I said. Though my mouth was dry, I wasn’t thirsty, not for whatever she was concocting.
“Is something wrong with my water?” She waved at the goblet like I should be so honored. “Here. I’ll have some as well.” She filled her own cup from the same decanter.
I lifted the goblet and sniffed. The water didn’t smell suspicious, but I knew her illusion magic was strong enough tohide whatever she’d done, and there was no doubt in my mind she’d donesomething. I set it down without taking a sip and hoped she didn’t notice.
“Tell me, half witch,” she said coolly, “what was the nature of your meeting with Charley?”
“Oh.” I turned, hoping to find Starvos’s warm face suddenly at the door, but it was a mile away, across a dungeon of stone, and Starvos was nowhere to be found. The leather upholstery of my chair groaned as I shifted my tote bag in my lap.
“You’re hesitant,” Aurora said critically, “because you didn’t drink your water.” She peered into my goblet, frowning in distaste when she found it full to the brim. “Have another sip, half witch. I’ll watch.”
I raised the goblet to my lips and took a tiny sip. An unusual metallic flavor was sharp on my tongue, but it was impossible to tell if it was coming from the water, the thick silver goblet my lips curved around, or her iron spelltracks hanging like poison in the air. My hand shook as I lowered the heavy cup to the small round side table between us, but aside from the nerves scraping at my insides, I didn’t feel poisoned.
“You were telling me about your meeting,” Aurora said impatiently.
“Yes,” I answered, faster than I meant. “Starvos and I had plans to discuss the Shadowrealm.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, feeling violated by the words spilling out. Recovering, I took the goblet and pretended to take another drink before she demanded I gulp down more.
“The Shadowrealm.” She spoke the words slowly as she lifted her arm, letting her hand float sinisterly by her breast in a soft-closed fist. “So you’ve come to confess?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I have nothing to do with it.”
“You don’t?” She looked disappointed. “Then what could you possibly have to say about it?” I didn’t answer fast enough. “Doyou know who’s responsible? Has the Goddess shown you in a Vision? Do you know which Aspirant will be next? Do you know how to vanquish it? Do you think so little of our capabilities that you, a half witch, felt compelled to barge into our palace to share your . . .wisdom?”
“I . . .” I took a breath for composure, but that was the only pause I was given before the words began to spill again. “I have reason to believe it’s Jaxan.”
Aurora’s dark eyes contracted under lowered brows, and I made the quick correction.
“The Echelon Jaxan D’Oron.”
A hard lump was forming in my throat as I remembered Leland telling me the Echelons would kill me for something as simple as not calling themEchelon. I lifted the goblet, so shaky that water sloshed over the sides and spilled on my top as I pretended to take another sip.
“Do you have evidence?” Her coffin-shaped fingernails tapped the wide wooden arm of her chair.
“His walk,” I answered, and my stomach turned over. “I know his walk. The sound his shoes make. His pacing. I heard it at the Blacklight when the Shadowrealm emerged. And the shadows — they weren’t normal. They were sentient, powerful. The Shadowcurrents claw at my eyes and dive through my lungs. I’ve only seen shadows like that from — ”
“I’ve heard enough, half witch,” Aurora said abruptly. “Libel is a crime in our realm. You cannot say whatever you want about an Echelon because you do not like how theirwalksounds. All of us work tirelessly to protect the realm, Jaxan included. This warrants a strike and perhaps more.”
“Youaskedme,” I said, composure slipping. “You asked me to tell you what the meeting was about.”
“And made certain you would,” was her retort as she stood. “This way to the trial room,” she said curtly, “or continue to sitand find out what failure to comply with an Echelon’s orders warrants.”
Grinding my teeth, I followed after her.
We turned left, entering the grand entry to the palace as Jaxan and Leland strode from the main door to the stairway, surrounded by an entourage of three clerks and Farrah Prolix. She asked a dozen questions as her heels clicked briskly after them.What was the nature of the uprising? Dark Witches seem increasingly unruly lately, wouldn’t you agree? I assume this time calls for stricter punishment? The Truth-Teller subdued seven? How many dead?
Outside the trial room, there was a moment when Leland and I were only a few feet apart, before Aurora stepped between us and halted him.
“Not you, Truth-Teller.” She lowered her hovering hand. “The half witch incriminated herself under the influence of Truth Serum and Uninhibitor, so your services will not be needed.” She eyed his banged-up appearance. “A shower, however . . .”
Leland bowed his head complacently and turned down the stairs without sparing a glance at me. I dug my nails into my palms and entered the trial room with a heavy sense of doom, heavier than how I’d felt imagining the worst-case scenario on my way to the palace.
The eight seated members of the Council were statues in their chairs, except Starvos, whose warm smile stretched to the crinkly corners of his eyes. I took my seat at the accused’s table while they held a private discussion, a static, white noise permeating the room to prevent me from hearing them. Aurora and Helen did most of the talking. Jaxan eyed me with a look of loathing. A few more minutes passed, and my throat went tight with the realization that Starvos’s face was too grave for whatever judgment they were reaching to be anything other than bad.
The static shut off.
“Stand for judgment,” Aurora ordered.
I stood, feeling my body floating away from me.
