The realization had barely finished crossing his mind before Julius grabbed his phone. When the AR flashed up, though, there were no missed calls or messages. He was about to just call Marci himself when a gentle hand touched his elbow.
“Sir?”
Julius looked up to see Fredrick hovering beside him, his stern face pulled down in an uncharacteristically nervous frown. “I know you’re busy, but there’s someone here I think you should see.”
He pointed at the throne room doors, and Julius’s stomach lurched. He’d only met them once, but there was no way he could forget the UN’s duo of haughty mage and terrifying general. The same pair that wassupposedto be with Marci, but was instead standing in the hallway leading up the throne room. Alone. He was still hoping that was because Marci was around the corner when he met the general’s eyes.
And that’s when he knew, knew to his bones, that something had gone horribly, catastrophically wrong.
***
“Where is she?”
He’d never crossed a space so fast in his life. One moment he was standing with Svena and Fredrick, the next he was in the hall with hands fisted on the lapels of General Jackson’s coat. “Where is Marci?”
The general blinked in surprise at his sudden appearance, but fortunately for Julius’s nerves, she didn’t panic as most mortals would when confronted with an obviously upset dragon. She just looked him straight in the eye and answered, “In the DFZ.”
“Then why are youhere?” Julius asked frantically. “The two of you were supposed to be keeping her safe! Did you just leave her in—”
Someone cleared his throat pointedly behind them, and Julius looked over his shoulder to see Chelsie, Fredrick, Svena, and Ian all glaring at him.
“This is not the sort of conversation one should have in hallways,” Ian said pointedly, flicking his no-longer-green eyes down the crowded hall, where several Heartstrikers had already blatantly stopped to listen.
“I don’t care,” Julius snapped. “I—”
“Well, I do,” Ian growled, turning on his heel. “Follow me. I know somewhere with far fewer ears.”
He marched back into the throne room. The others did the same, including the humans, which meant Julius had no choice but to follow as well, trailing after the crowd as Ian led them back across the throne room and into the same textile-filled hallway off the side where Bob had saved Julius from Estella what felt like forever ago. This time, though, instead of whispering behind a display case as Julius and Katya had done, Ian led them to a small door hidden behind a beautiful Navajo blanket that opened into a stone room the size of a large supply closet with a modern conference table and wheeled office chairs set up in the middle.
“What is this?” Julius asked Ian. “Your secret conference room?”
“One of them,” his brother said. “This is where I conducted much of my business when Mother was still in power. It’s completely soundproofed and warded, and best of all, Mother doesn’t know it’s here.”
“How did you managethat?”
“Easily,” Ian said with a grin. “When I volunteered to take charge of the renovations to the mountain a few decades ago, I added several improvements, and since Bethesda can’t be bothered with details, I got away with most of them. You never know when you’ll need somewhere quiet to talk treason.”
“You clever snake,” Svena said, smirking at him. “Always something up your sleeve.”
Ian looked smugger than ever at that, but Julius could only shake his head. “I’m just glad you’re on our side,” he muttered, taking a seat at the table.
“How perfectly draconic of you,” a rough voice croaked. “But if the reptilian half of the table is done with the self-congratulations, we have a serious problem to discuss.”
All the dragons jumped and turned to the center of the table, where an enormous black raven was now standing, staring at them.
“What is that?” Julius cried, gripping his chair.
In hindsight, that was a stupid question. He didn’t even need his nose to know that he was looking at a spirit. There was no other way a bird that big could have gotten into a sealed, windowless room full of dragons without them noticing. Also, normal ravens didn’t talk. They didn’t bow, either, which this one did, his wings thrown out in a dramatic flourish.
“Forgive the late introduction,” he croaked. “I am Raven. And before you ask, yes.ThatRaven. I’m here with my associates General Emily Jackson and Sir Myron Rollins of the United Nations to discuss the current situation in the DFZ.”
“Likely story,” Svena said with a snort. “He’s here to see Amelia.” She turned to Ian. “She dumped him a thousand years ago, and he’s never gotten over it.”
“She did notdumpme,” Raven said, insulted. “And if you don’t mind, White Witch, this is a serious issue.”
“It is,” Julius agreed, leaning over the table to glare at the spirit. “Where’s Marci?”
Before Raven could open his beak, General Jackson beat him to it. “With Algonquin.”
