Spritesin pressed uniforms swarmed my room in perfect lines, dropping off piles of files, the first with strict orders to get to work, signed by Mathias, of course. I stood back, watching them carry stacks so heavy, they strained. They covered a good portion of the desk and part of the floor.
I knew at this point the Magistrate would never send me anything useful, but still I tried. Still, I spent the time to search every file once for anything useful. There was nothing. Just more of his bullshit. More of his pressing control. I tossed the final file onto the desk and decidednotto touch it again.
I pressed my palms against the wall and tried to think.
The docks. Of all the places Tiberius could have sent us, he’d chosen the one location I absolutely could not afford to investigate. Because if Vitoria had escaped the city, she’d have done it through smuggler networks. Through the people he was now ordering us to expose. And if we didn’t find her, we’d certainly find other witches mid-escape.
I pulled water from the basin, letting it pool in my palm as I paced. The magic responded sluggishly, exhausted from the day’s horrors probably. Crimson’s death. Tiberius’s violence. Wickett’s response.
No.
Focus.
I needed the others.
Within minutes, we’d gathered in the kitchen, Calder, Lucy, Pip with red-rimmed eyes, and surprisingly, the Oracle withRiot close behind. Wickett arrived last, his expression carefully neutral.
“The Magistrate gave us an assignment,” I said without preamble. “He wants us to investigate smuggling operations at the docks. Witches being trafficked out of the city.”
Lucy snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Before she could respond, I cast. “Silentii.”
The bubble of water formed around us, though I avoided Calder’s eyes after I’d used the spell. Giving away my secrets was fucking foolish.
The Oracle tilted her head slightly. I had the distinct impression she was studying the magic itself, even though she couldn’t see it. “Clever.”
“Useful trick,” Riot added quietly, his gaze sweeping the barrier’s edge. “Especially in a place like this.”
Their acceptance came without questions, without the fear or suspicion I’d learned to expect from outsiders. The Oracle seemed almost pleased by the magic, and Riot’s expression held only appreciation. It was... different. Unsettling in a way I couldn’t quite name. Like maybe I didn’t have to hide every part of myself from everyone in this room.
Pip’s wings fluttered a little faster as she touched the barrier with tiny fingers. “What’s it for?”
“It’s a silencing spell,” Wickett answered, eyes locked on mine. “So we won’t be overheard.”
“Water holds sound differently than air. Absorbs it rather than carries it. You were just about to say something?” I said to Lucy, ignoring the hunter’s tone.
“Your Magistrate’s order is not an assignment,” she said flatly. “That’s a trap.”
“Obviously. But if we don’t go, we’re in violation of direct orders. And he made it very clear what happens to people who disobey him.”
“Is that what happened to your face?” Calder asked, stepping forward to carefully grip my chin as he studied the mark.
I pulled away. “It is. And now we have to decide what to do with an order that feels like busywork.”
“We go,” Wickett said quietly. “But we do it wisely.”
I turned to look at him, eyes wide.
He met my surprise without flinching. “My father is playing a game. He wants us chasing shadows while his real hunters do the actual work. So we have to give him the show he expects. We investigate the docks. We find nothing useful. We report back like obedient soldiers.”
“And if we actually find something?” Pip asked, her voice small.
Something strange crossed his features. As if going against his father’s orders publicly physically pained him.
“Then we handle it tactfully. We can’t afford to give him leverage. Not when we need to be moving toward real answers.”
Calder studied him for a long moment. “You’re suggesting we perform compliance by doing nothing to advance the hunt?”
“I’m suggesting we survive long enough to figure out what’s actually happening here.” Wickett’s eyes moved around the room. “My father has his own hunters searching. He doesn’t necessarily need—or maybe even want—us to find the Phoenix. He just needs to be in charge of whoever does. That way, no matter what, he’s the savior of the world. Either way, we’re tools. The question is whether we’re smart enough to use that to our advantage.”
