I don’t move. My body is all training—secure the scene, contain the threat—but my mind is stuck on a single echoing thought:
She ranfrom me.
“Councillor Kane?” one of the Ministry wardens asks. “Orders?”
I drag my gaze from the scorched patch where the fire mage attacked. The mage herself lies on her back, eyes closed, breathing steady. Whatever Harper did to her, it was as clean as the others.
The coven are confused, frightened. The guards are furious. Everyone looks to me.
I want to scream.
Instead, I square my shoulders and pull the bogeyman around me like a cloak.
“Secure the prisoners,” I say, voice flat. “No one casts, no one contacts anyone outside this compound. Med team to the paper mages first. They’re the victims here.”
The warden nods and peels away, barking orders.
My team—our team—are as stunned as I am. Dayna’s eyes shimmer with tears. Jill frowns, bewildered. George looks shattered. I give them the look. They nod—solid, unwavering. They have my back.
Arthur drops from the roof and lands on my shoulder, talons biting through the jacket.
“Bad,” he croaks again, a harsh, distressed sound that vibrates in my teeth. He saw her go. He cannot fathom why I let her.
“Easy,” I murmur, brushing my fingers over his breastbone. “I know.”
I don’t know.
I walk because if I stay still, I’ll start to pace, and if I pace, I’ll start to shout—then kill.
The air reeks of burnt magic and singed grass. Angerburns hot and bright—not because she used magic, but because she did it without me.
Because she decided I would be her judge and found me wanting.
Because she didn’t trust me to choose her.
I lock my jaw and force myself back to the facts.
Harper neutralised the circle. Saved Knox and his people. Smashed every paperweight she could reach. Then she rewrote the memories of those who built an unwilling soul ritual.
Illegal? Absolutely. Terrifying? Yes.
Necessary?
My stomach twists. I can already hear Meredith’s allies on the Council:You let a rogue mage alter thirteen minds and did nothing?
Ididtry. I asked—twice—and watched her flinch.
Liar,a small voice hisses.You wanted her to say something that made it fit your tidy little justice boxes.
“Shut up,” I mutter.
Arthur ruffles, offended.
“Not you,” I tell him.
Across the compound, Knox steadies his people by sheer will. I should go to him, take his statement, secure his cooperation.
What I want is to stand in the middle of the island and scream Harper’s name until she folds back in.
