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‘You can do this. It is not any different. Show the shadows where you want to go and they will make sure that you get there.’ He whispered in my mind. Ok. I would try. I held my hand out to Mr. Abbey and Meredith, beckoning for them to come to me.
“You guh first, wi will catch up,” Conrad said, still eyeing Amon with that strange look on his face.
“Okay.” I said. “Meet you there,” I called my shadows to me, and they eagerly came forward, peeling themselves away from the wall and floor to swirl at our feet. I held the image Amon had shown me in my mind and whispered, ‘Casa delle Nuvole,’ and faster than I could blink, we were there.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that.” Meredith said, looking a little green around the edges. My eyes widened.
“You don’t like it?” I asked. “I think it feels kind of nice.”
She smiled at me, in her kind way. “I think that might have something to do with the fact that you are part daemon.”
“That certainly helps,” Mr. Abbey agreed, chuckling. He looked up at the chalet before us. The sun was just rising here, and I realized that it was early morning in Italy. We had just jumped back six hours. I wondered vaguely if daemons got shadow lag the same way humans got jet lag and bit back a smile at my own private joke.
Amon didn’t materialize with Conrad and Patricia immediately. I started to wonder what the holdup was when they finally appeared. Amon ran a hand through his hair again before shooting me one of his more dazzling grins. He held out his hand to me.
“Ready?” He asked. I took his hand, nodding, and we followed Mr. Abbey and Meredith as they led the way up to the chalet, Conrad pushing Patricia in her wheelchair behind us.
As we filed into the chalet, we were met with the rich scents of freshly brewed coffee, the sweetness of warm pastries, and the savory aroma of cured meats.
The chalet was largely empty, with the exception of one striking witch, who was seated at a large table set for seven.
On the table was an impressive spread of traditional Italian breakfast foods. There was a steaming pot of coffee in the center of the table, surrounded by plates of buttery croissants, still warm from the oven. Plates of prosciutto and salami were arranged alongside bowls of fresh fruit, and a basket of warm bread sat at the edge of the table.
The witch was impeccably dressed, her hair was styled in a sleek bob that accentuated her sharp features. A designer handbag rested on the table beside her, and a pair of expensive sunglasses perched on top of her head.
She had an air of authority to her, and she gave off the impression of a woman who was used to getting what she wanted. Beyond her striking appearance, intelligence cut through her dark eyes, and I squirmed beneath her gaze. I had a feeling this witch missed nothing. I found myself regretting my choice of outfit for the second time on this trip. She made me feel under dressed.
Standing as we entered, she came forward confidently, the sharp heels of her stilettos striking the ground with precision as she walked.
“Ciao, welcome.” She greeted us, extending her hand to shake with Mr. Abbey first before turning to do the same for Meredith. She moved on to warmly greet Conrad and Patricia, who had come up to stand beside us.
I couldn’t help but notice some of the warmth bled from her gaze as she finally turned to greet Amon and I. I wouldn’t call her regard of us hostile, but it certainly wasn’t friendly. It was careful, I decided. She was feeling us out, and it would be our job to convince her that we could be trusted.
“Hi. Nice to meet you.” I said, holding my hand out. “I’m Raven. Raven Fisher.” She glanced down at my hand but did not take it.
“Yes, I know who you are.” Um, ok. I dropped my hand back to my side feeling snubbed. Amon’s voice brushed against my mind.
‘You get used to it. Mortals fear the touch of daemons. They worry we will bind them to us, as you have done to Rycon.’
‘I’m never going to live that down, am I?’ I sighed back into his mind.
‘It would appear not.’
I tried not to outwardly smile as he chuckled in my mind.
“I am Sofia Rossi, Sorcerer General of The Board.” She introduced herself, with a polite bow of her head.
“Hello, Sofia.” Amon purred next to me. She met his gaze without flinching, head held high.
“Prince Amon,” she greeted him curtly. “You would do well to refer to me by my title. We are not on a first name basis.”
Amon gave her one of his most bored smiles. “As you wish, Sorcerer General.” He amended, though his tone made it feel like he was humoring her.
I was put off by Sofia’s treatment of us, but I tried to remember how I had felt about Amon before I had gotten to know him. This witch had no idea that he had been forced to serve Ash Nevra under the threat of the murder of his own mother.
She thought he was an evil, wicked sadist who tortured innocents for no other reason than for the joy of it. I had to remind myself that’s why we were here. To show her the truth and ask her for her help.
‘We’re supposed to be getting her to like us,’ I whispered into his mind, ‘Try to be less of a condescending asshole.’ He smirked at me and shrugged. I tried not to roll my eyes.
