The morning the coven attacked the chapel.
“Of course.”
I begin at the beginning: leaving the paper mages, taking up residence in the chapel, growing concerned about the Ministry’s behaviour. I am careful not to admit to spying on Meredith, yet my caution draws the Magic Council’s attention.
“Miss House,” one councillor interrupts, “how did you learn of the planned attack? Our records show you had already prepared defensive measures. Did you, in fact, stage the incident yourself?”
“No,” I reply evenly. “I did not.”
I raise my hand. Paper answers the gesture; folders appear before every leader, thumping softly onto polished surfaces.
“If you consult chapter three, appendix six, you will find messages and time-stamped logs detailing what I heard, what I saw, and who said what.”
“These are emails and text messages,” a councillor says, frowning.
“Indeed.”
“But you are a paper mage. How did you obtain them?”
“I have a minor technomantic affinity.”
A ripple of surprise moves through the gilded seats. A few heads tilt, as if they are reassessing me.
Another councillor leans forward. “How did you conjure these documents when magic is blocked within Unity Gate?”
I smile. “It is not blocked for me, Councillor. I assumed that was obvious.”
“Aren’t the nullifiers supposed to suppressallmagic?” a vampire snarls. “Can anyone else access their power?”
Heads turn; every faction leader shakes their head. No—no one else can. The nullifiers mute everyone but me.
“I still think she should be arrested,” a human Minister snaps. “At the very least, cuff her. She’s dangerous.”
“I don’t condone Meredith’s actions,” another mutters, “but I understand the impulse. She’s too powerful.”
“She has immunity,” Lander calls, voice like a whip cracking. “Have we all forgotten why we’re here? This isn’t a mage-hunt. Harper isn’t on trial. We’re here to repair a broken treaty,notbreak it further. But if you’re desperate to join Meredith Jackson in the cells—crack on.”
His glare sweeps the hall, daring anyone to test him.
Silence settles, uneasy and thick.
“Please continue, Miss House,” the disembodied voice intones.
“Gladly.” I keep my tone even. My palms are damp against the lectern. “In your documents—chapter three, appendix six—you will find the advisories I received, fully time-stamped. No one was harmed, and I used non-lethal spells.”
“Youtraumatisedthem,” a wizard snarls. “You wrapped them in papier-mâché—covered their faces until they couldn’t breathe.”
“They breathed, and they lived,” I say mildly. “A little trauma is predictable when intruders break into one’s home. Would you not retaliate? Some of you would kill. What is papier-mâché between mages? It is legal self-defence. I was within my rights to kill them all.”
I glance at Knox, and my expression softens. “Had I done so, the treaty might never have been broken.”
“So they attacked you—then what?” a councillor demands—Councillor Reep, my mind helpfully supplies. “Revenge?”
“No. Knox contacted me: his island was under siege. Councillor Kane formed a team; I joined it to rescue the hostages.”
“And then your magicbackfired? Not so powerful after all?”
“Oh no.” I smile sweetly. “I did the memory wipe on purpose.”
