I know Knox is right. If the opportunity arises, I should eliminate Meredith. Part of me even wants to wipe out the entire coven; the knowledge they carry should never be allowed to spread.
But Meredith is the instigator, and for the safety of every magic user alive, something must be done about her.
And there is the problem.
Lander and Dayna will argue for justice and due process, insisting she be taken back to the Ministry.
Beryl’s voice echoes in my mind—calm, ruthless, certain:“You do not let an enemy escape.”I showed themmercy, and look how well that turned out. Meredith has already proved what she will do if she walks away with dangerous knowledge.
We head back to the building where Samuel and Meredith are holed up. Thus far we have kept everything quiet.
“Hey,” Jill murmurs as we approach.
“They are safe,” I tell her and Dayna. “Warded and waiting in the security wing until this is over. What’s happening inside?”
“Samuel has finished the circle,” Dayna says. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I have,” I reply. “It is straight out of my nightmares.”
“Can you deal with it? I’m a specialist in ritual magic, yet I have no idea what to do with that thing. It frightens me, Harper.”
I rest a hand on her arm and manage a small smile. “It frightens me too, but I know the design well, and I have a few ideas for destroying it.”
Knox’s quarters sit at the compound’s centre, half hidden behind clipped hedges and scattered saplings. The house is handsome, with red-brick walls, wide, deep-silled windows, and a smooth rendered façade painted a neutral cream.
A small porch juts over the step, just large enough for a mat and a battered pair of boots set tidily to one side, and someone has left a mug on the front windowsill, a coffee ring dried around the rim.
Jill and Dayna remain on watch by the door. George shifts to cover the side windows. That leaves Lander, Riker—with his trusty hammer—and me to go in.
Inside, the air smells faintly of rotten magic. In the main room, a low sofa, piled with mismatched cushions, and a sprawled, sleeping Samuel face a coffee table scarred by old coaster rings. A bookshelf crammed with paperbacks lines the wall. Spell books and handwritten notes cover the floor.
Two plain doors open directly off the living room. One stands slightly ajar, offering a glimpse of rumpled bedding, a laundry basket, and the corner of a wardrobe. The other is Meredith’s warded room. There is no safe way through. George is tapped out, and the best tactic is to wait her out.
First, though, we must deal with Samuel.
I meet Lander’s gaze and shake my head. High-ranking Ministry mages they may be, yet they are careless.
Lander lifts his paper gun and puts a round into Samuel’s chest. A muted pop; Samuel’s snore merely deepens.
Riker retrieves the paperweight beside him, nods to us, and carries it out to smash. He won’t return until the job is done.
And so we wait.
Dawn is close; the sky has begun to pale at the edges, a thin grey seeping through the blinds. The others settle in a nearby annexe. Lander and I crouch in a corner of the lounge, hidden in shadow. Meredith won’t see us until she steps fully through her ward.
Leaning against his shoulder, I slip off my goggles and stifle a yawn. The only sounds are the creak of old floorboards and Samuel’s rhythmic snoring, like a badly tuned engine.
Then—
“Where are those idiots?” Meredith’s voice rings from the bedroom. “They were supposed to bring breakfast!”
More rustling; footsteps. “Samuel! Samuel, get up!”
She stomps about, knocking into furniture, her tone sharpening.
“You useless man. I know you finished the spell, but honestly, you could have made sure I ate! That circle had better be flawless.”
She sweeps into the living room.
