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I follow him slowly from the small chamber and find richly decorated rooms beyond. I thought I knew every room in this place, but I haven’t actually been in this one before. My eyes narrow at the ornate tapestries depicting the city and the matching silk-covered couches. This isn’t the home of a member of the Guard, nor is it one of the rooms that the academy allots to the professors. Which means it’s Dane’s.
I glance at him, wondering what he actually does for the academy. As if sensing my eyes on him, he turns to stare at me, the scar breaking through his eyebrow and running down his cheek somehow looking worse than usual. The cruelty in his gaze has me averting my eyes quickly. I already got a taste of his power, and I’m not likely to forget the way his magick burned through every part of my body anytime soon. It was agony, and while I hate him more than I did last week because of it … I am impressed.
I didn’t know he had it in him, to be honest. He’s definitely been practicing his conjures over the past few years. Back at Varrik’s keep, I’d first thought he was an elite like Fiana and the others because he and the horrible bitch were so close, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t anywhere near powerful enough then, but if the magick he let loose on me is anything to go by, he definitely is now.
A cloak is thrown over me unceremoniously, and the hood is pulled up. It shields me completely as I’m taken out of the room with Dane leading the way and the other two walking behind me.
My movements are frustratingly slow, and Grey pushes at my shoulder every few moments to hurry me up. I ignore him as much as I can, but I can already feel my body flagging just from the walk.
No one passes us in the corridor. I don’t know what time it is, but the students must be in their classes. We stop in front of the Head Scholar’s door, and I tip my head back to see past the cloak. I look up at Dane in askance. He avoids my gaze as he knocks once and then ushers me in.
Inside, Scholar Sharpe is at his desk, and I’m brought to stand in front of him, wondering why I’m here and knowing it can’t be good. I just hope the outcome is better than the dungeon.
The Head Scholar of the academy peers down from his solid black eyes and along his pointed nose at the human. The gleaming oval scales that are scattered around his cheeks and jaw match his dark complexion for now, but I keep an eye on them as an indication of his mood.
‘So this is the insignificant child who almost single-handedly undid all my work to get the Gate open again.’
I stop just short of rolling my eyes at him. Even the members of The Cunty Trio don’t call me a child. I’ve seen at least twenty winters. I’m almost sure! I don’t even look like a child!
‘Was it the Isolationists?’ he continues. ‘They must know the vote is coming.’
He glances up at Grey. ‘The vote to reopen the Gate and allow trade from other realms back into the city will be happening in four days,’ he explains.
Grey nods thoughtfully as if he didn’t already know.
‘This is just the sort of thing they’d pull to remind everyone of the problems we had with visitors, to make sure the Councilors keep Alcana locked down.’ Sharpe’s eyes narrow at me. ‘Who put you up to killing the troll, girl?’
I stare at him, keeping my irritation at bay. As if I’m too stupid to have done this on my own. Truthfully, I’m surprised he’s lowering himself to speak directly to me at all. I didn’t think he would, and I’m not prepared. I can’t give him an explanation that won’t dig me into a deeper hole. But when I open my mouth to say something, Grey cuts in.
‘I spoke with Captain Pikerd early this morning. The City Guard found a witness to Yeith’s death. This human didn’t do the killing.’
Sharpe lets out a growl. ‘Who did then?’
Grey’s lips purse together. ‘It seems as if he did it to himself, sir. The fool got so drunk that he tripped and fell on his own dagger in the street. An innkeeper saw it all. Late the other night.’
‘So, this wasn’t some Isolationist plot?’
‘It doesn’t appear so,’ Dane answers readily.
Sharpe scoffs, his eyes moving over me with derision.
‘Well, it was an absurd idea anyway. A feeble human taking down a full-grown troll? I mean, look at her! Pathetic. But Yeith falling on his own dagger?’ Sharpe groans, covering his eyes for a moment and leaning back in his leather chair. ‘Gods, save me from the idiot students who walk these hallowed halls. We need new blood here. These buildings once housed greatness from every circle of the Dark Realms.’
When he removes his hand, I can see that the scales on his cheeks are turning pink around the edges, and I tense a little, keeping my eyes on them. His temper is well-known, and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever he can do when those glittering ovals turn full red. I hope he’s not thinking of getting rid of his problem by killing the human.
‘Just a badly timed coincidence, then,’ he mutters as he looks behind me, I assume at Kallum. ‘How many people saw her in the end?’
But it’s Dane, not Kallum, who answers. ‘Not so many that the rumors can’t be altered. There was an incident in the dungeon after we took her. The jailor and another inmate were killed.’
Lire and Golden Eyes.
I somehow keep the horror off my face, recalling my hastily laid plan down in the dungeon. Except I didn’t want anyone else to die. I wasn’t in my right mind. I was letting the dark in, and I didn’t even realize it.
I should have let Yeith kill me. Now, two more are dead. Because of me.
‘No one else of note even knew she was there except for Pikerd and two of his men,’ I hear Dane continue as my stomach twists.
The need to atone is a crushing weight, but I’m used to it. I force it back, knowing I’ll pay soon enough. I’ll get what I deserve, and the knowledge makes me feel marginally better.
