I was sure that was as decent as it was going to get, so I said, “This is fine. What else do you want me to do?”
Vara had me take a few more shots, ones with my hockey helmet positioned in front of mynether regions. Emma made fun of me for calling it that, but I couldn’t think of another way to describe it politely. I would’ve never agreed to this during my time as a prince, but I supposed desperate times called for desperate measures. There were more ways to fight back against a corrupt government than with swords and spilling blood. I supposed one of them involved showing the ladies of Malovia more of my ass than my face.
Vara finally let me go back to the locker room, before my balls curled back up inside of me. I got dressed, and we sat in the lobby of the rink for the interview, at a table near the closed concession stand.
“Start at the beginning,” Vara said as she opened the pages of her journalist notebook. “I want to hear everything, from when you decided to become the Phantom to when it all ended.”
I gave a glance to Emma. She gave a tilt of her head, and I took it as an indication to tell Vara only certain details. Things like the night of the masquerade, and visiting the Miriamic Coven, were off the table, but everything else was fair game. I launched into a lengthy tale about my time spent as a vigilante. It took longer than I thought it would— a few hours. By the time I was finished, it was dark outside, and Vara appeared satisfied.
“I have more than enough information here, but I think I can par it down into a nice article,” Vara said as she put her notebook away. “This article is going to be sensational, Ethan. You won’t regret it.”
I certainly hoped not. Vara left for the news station then, and Emma and I continued back to the university.
As we walked, a strange scent began to rise through the air… like smoke. There was a red haze on the horizon that had nothing to do with the setting sun. Emma stilled, and I said, “You smell it, too.”
“Yes. Gods, what’s happening now?” Emma asked tiredly.
The closer we got to the university, the heavier the scent of smoke became. As the building came into view, it was clear the school wasn’t burning. The smoke was far off, hovering over the city. Even so, Emma kept her jacket pressed over her nose. The haze in the air became darker, stinging our eyes.
I nearly thought the forest surrounding the city had to be on fire somewhere, until a rugged individual staggered out of the gardens. Finlay’s face was covered in soot, ashes blackening his hands. My gut jolted as I realized he’d had something to do with this.
“Fin! What have you been doing?” Emma hissed.
Finlay’s eyes were wild. Like he’d gone mad. “The revolution has taken its revenge for the people we lost in the catacombs,” he explained. “We went to the royal grounds surrounding the palace, and burned the houses of the nobles down.”
“What?” Emma and I both hissed at once.
I stepped forward. “Finlay, are you insane? What provoked you to do such a thing?”
“We all voted, and agreed. The Circle and their supporters need to pay for siding with Elijah,” Finlay insisted. “We killed their guards, and looted what we could before we turned their homes to ash.”
“You can’t attack the homes of government officials! They won’t let this go!” I shouted.
“We already did. The mansions of the Circle members are gone. All that’s left now is the palace. They’ll be spending weeks trying to sort it all out. It could postpone them making any decrees for months, possibly.” Finlay let out a hoarse laugh, and the sound of it made Emma’s face blanch.
“Were you seen? Did you reveal yourselves?” I demanded to know.
“We wore disguises and cast illusions to change our features. We played ourselves off as members of their personal guards. They won’t identify us.”
“Yet,” Emma said. Finlay didn’t respond.
“Did you speak to Lady Magdalina about this? Or is Professor Mara making up her own plans on a whim?” I asked harshly.
“Magdalina isn’t willing to do what has to be done,” Finlay insisted. “You may think it rash, but Professor Mara made the right call tonight. It was her idea to burn down the houses of the nobles, and I don’t regret one bit of it. None of us do. The nobles need to see the Malovian Revolution won’t back down.”
“You have no idea what you’ve done. This goes too far!” I cried.
“Toofar?” Finlay began to roar. “The king went too far when he ruined the country! People are starving! Our sick and old are dying, we’re enslaving humans, and we’re on the edge of being the catalyst of an international crisis—anothersupernatural war! Meanwhile, the lords and ladies of the elites hoard all our country’s gold, while the king prepares good fae to die in the name of spreading radical nationalism past our borders. He wants to kill innocents in foreign magical communities that we have no business meddling in, and has already begun slaughtering witches for his cause!”
“Fin—” Emma started.
“My friends are gone because of him!” Finlay screamed. “Mymateis dead because of that monster!Nothinggoes too far when it concerns our nation!”
I felt Finlay’s pain, but there was more to his battle than saving Malovia. Personal vendettas couldn’t get in the way of justice. I’d learned that as the Phantom.
“This was a hasty decision,” I spat. “Why the hell didn’t you come to me first?”
“Ethan, you made it clear after our last mission you didn’t want to be a part of this anymore, and I respect that,” Finlay said. “So respect us, and let us write our own destinies. The revolution has to advance at any cost.”
