“There’s nothingsafeabout a pass from Amelia,” Justin growled, but he stayed just as close to Fredrick as Julius did, following right on the tall dragon’s heels as they shuffled down the hall to Amelia’s warded door. As with everything else, the menacing wards on the doorway dimmed the moment Fredrick got close. The actual lock was handled with a key from his key ring. He’d barely gotten it open before Justin barged in, throwing the door open and barreling inside only to stop in his tracks.
Julius immediately understood why. Even standing behind his massive brother, just being near Amelia’s dark room felt like standing on the edge of an abyss.
There were no tiki torches this time, no light bulbs or candles. Even the morning sunlight from her balcony had been completely blocked off by heavy curtains, leaving the cave drenched in a darkness that felt both suffocating and endless, interrupted only by the dragon standing at its heart like a lone star in the night.
Amelia stood in the middle of her room, her body wreathed in tongues of orange flame as she glared down at the multiple casting circles painted in ash on the stone floor. Julius counted five in total, each one overlapping the others to form a sixth, larger circle. At the point of convergence in the center, Frieda, their mother’s secretary, was sitting curled up in a ball on a metal folding chair, looking like she was fighting not to cry.
“Amelia!” Julius cried when he recovered his voice at last. “What are youdoing?”
His sister jumped, and the orange fire faded. The feeling of the endless abyss faded with it, leaving only the normal gloomy dark of a curtained room before Amelia snapped her fingers, and another light, a perfectly normal flicker of dragon fire this time, appeared above her head. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock?”
The question came out in a growl, but Julius was too distracted by his sister to care. “What happened to you?”
Amelia lookedhorrible. He hadn’t noticed it in the spell fire, but now that she was normally lit, it was impossible not to see how hollow her face looked. Her cheeks were sunken pits below the knives of her cheekbones, and her skin looked almost gray. Her normally shiny black hair was a dry, tangled knot hanging down her back, and what he could see of her arms beneath her red long-sleeved T-shirt looked skeletal, like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Given that she’d been perfectly fine last night—tired and drunk, sure, but definitely nothing like this—that was enough to put Julius in a panic, and he rushed to her side. “Are you sick?”
“I’m fine,” she said, waving him away. “I’ve just been working.”
“Working on what?” Justin snarled, nodding toward Frieda, who was only now uncurling from her ball thanks to Fredrick, who’d rushed over to help. “Sacrificing Fs to your dark god?”
“Please,” Amelia said, pulling a flask out of the pocket of her ripped jeans, which were clearly meant to be tight but were now hanging loose from her protruding hips. “I’ll have you know there isn’t a dark god for twenty planes who could afford me. This is a private project. One for you guys, actually.” She pointed two fingers at her own warm, brown eyes. “I thought it was time I finally took a real crack at breaking Mother’s green chain.”
That sounded like a worthy project to Julius. But. “Why are you using Frieda?”
“Is that her name?” Amelia asked, taking a long drink off her flask. “I’ve had a stream of Fs coming in since you left yesterday. I can’t be bothered to remember them all.”
“A stream of Fs,” Julius repeated, dumbfounded. “Why?”
“Because they’re the easiest to get,” she said with a shrug. “Ideally, I’d prefer to use another clutch. The Fs are positively pickled in Bethesda’s magic, which makes narrowing down the specific curse that controls the eyes that much more difficult. Alas, Ian’s got everyone under G whipped into a froth, and older dragons aresomuch trouble. They always want something in return, and when you need a large sample size, the whole thing just turns into a mess. That’s what makes Fs the best. They can’t say no.”
She paused, clearly expecting Julius to congratulate her on finding such a clever work-around, but Julius could only stare at her in horror. “So you’re using them for magical experiments because they can’t sayno?” he bit out at last. “How is that different from slavery?”
“I guess it’s not, really,” she admitted. “But they’ve been slaves for six centuries now, so I figured, if it’s already that bad, why not use it to do some good? It’s not as if I’m abusing them.” She waved her flask down at the ash circles. “The magic’s not harmful. It stings a bit, sure, but you can’t prod the limits of a curse implanted before birth without a little discomfort. I even let them take turns so that no one has to be in the hot seat for more than two hours. That practically makes me a saint by F-clutch standards.”
Julius couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew that F-clutch had the short end of the Heartstriker stick, but once again, he was shocked to see just how short that end could be. Though at least this explained why she’d given Fredrick a pass. And speaking of Fredrick. “Have you had to do this, too?”
“I took a turn last night,” he replied with a nod. “It’s not pleasant, but not as bad as some.”
The resignation in his voice made Julius even angrier, and he turned on his sister with a glare. “Amelia,” he said firmly. “I’m all for you breaking the green-eye thing Mother put on us, but you can’t abuse F-clutch like this. This is exactly the sort of thing we formed the Council to stop!”
“I just told you, I’mnotabusing them,” she argued. “I’musingthem. I’m practically doing them a favor, here! If I wasn’t using them, they’d just be off getting used by another dragon, and like I said, I’m a cakewalk compared to most.”
“Sheisbetter than Bethesda,” Frieda said, looking up at Julius from where she was clutching her brother.
“That’s not saying much,” Julius growled, turning back to Amelia. “I can’t let you—”
“And there’s our problem,” Amelia said, walking over to flop down in the folding chair Frieda had just vacated. “You don’tletme do anything, Baby-J. Until your Council’s up and running, you can’t order me to do diddly. Now I’m sure you’ve got buckets of change in the pipe, but until they actually get here, I’m going to use the resources I have, and on that note.” She turned to Frieda. “You’re off the hook until tomorrow, but make sure you send the next one up on your way out. I’m only taking a five-minute break.”
“Yes, Planeswalker,” Frieda said, lowering her head as she slunk past Julius out the door.
“You look like you need a lot more than five minutes,” Julius said when she was gone. “F-clutch issues aside, I don’t think what you’re doing is good for you either, Amelia.”
“What? You mean this?” She pointed at her sunken cheeks. When he nodded, his sister began to cackle. “Bethesda wishes she could get me this bad! It would take a dragon mage at the height of her power to drain me like this. Mother can’t even break the seal I put on her while I was mind controlled.” She stopped to wipe her eyes. “No, no. Breaking the green eyes is just a vanity project, something to kill time while I wait for bigger fish to finish frying. This whole heroin chic look I’m rocking right now is Marci’s doing.” She frowned. “Where is she, anyway?”
Julius’s heart began to pound. He’d been so surprised by what he’d found when they’d walked in, he’d completely forgotten why he’d come up here in the first place. “I thought she was with you.” He stared at his emaciated sister. “How didMarcidothattoyou?”
Amelia’s brows furrowed. “You mean she didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Julius asked, his body shaking with anger that rapidly transformed into guilt. Marci hadn’t told him anything, but when would she have had a chance? He’d been practically ignoring her since yesterday morning.
