They dropped onto the loveseat at the foot of my bed, training their stares on us. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Like shit,” Jasper and I said at once.
Sloane nodded. “That tracks. So, what’s the plan for today?”
I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. There was no time to hesitate. If we were going to have any chance at subduing my mother, we needed the full support of the elders. They alone were the key.
“Today, you are going to get us an audience with the leader of your coven, and we will pray to the gods we impress him.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ballard Blanchett sat at his desk, twirling the edges of his handlebar mustache. He had always been a rather odd fellow, one I had spoken with on many occasions. He sat on the council, speaking on behalf of all the covens in Kallistos and surrounding territories, possessing great stature within his community.
The relief I felt knowing Sloane belonged to his coven rather than some of the others I knew was insurmountable.
By all accounts, Ballard was a kind man. He had the inclination to fight for those who did not have a voice and oversaw his faction with unfailing grace. However, he was a stickler for the rules, keeping coven business private until he determined it necessary to share that information with the public.
Unfortunately for us, that also meant keeping his nose out of other factions’ affairs.
All we needed to do was convince him of the consequences toward all of Auria should we fail to obtain the information we needed. Surely, even he could see the merit in assisting.
“D’Arcy!” he boomed, standing immediately before reaching out and taking my hand between his calloused palms. “Good tosee you, son. I looked for you at your uncle’s funeral, but must have missed you.”
“Ah, no. Actually, I was not in attendance.”
He pursed his lips, sorrow passing over his face. “I was incredibly saddened to hear about Calia’s passing. I had the privilege of meeting her several times, and she was an absolute delight.”
The familiar rush of guilt I felt at her name clawed at my chest, but there was no time to let it free. “Yes, she was,” I said, clearing my throat.
Ballard gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk as he sat down, which Sloane and I took. Jasper and Rowena made their way to the loveseat along the far wall of his office. His office was full of neutral tones, reflecting the nature from which the coven’s power was derived. The bookcases lining the walls behind him were the color of moss, and atop the shelves were a variety of tomes and knick-knacks that looked older than I was.
“How can I help you today?” he asked, picking up a pen and twirling it around his fingers. “Sloane said it was urgent. I assume it doesn’t revolve around coven affairs.”
“In a way, it is,” I began. Ballard sat up straighter, giving us his full attention. “I am not sure what all you know about the night my wife and uncle died,” I said slowly, scanning his face for any sign of recognition. When I found none, I continued. “The council’s fabricated tale of an ‘accidental tragedy’ is false.”
“I figured that was the case,” he huffed. “We are not known for our commitment to the truth.”
I nodded, stumbling through the events of that night. I told him about Calia and Renwick’s death. How my mother had planned to take my wife’s life long before we had wed to break the curse, and the information she revealed regarding the sorceress’s living descendant being the key. Each word caused me pain, yet I knew if we were to ever defeat my mother it wasnecessary discomfort. Ballard needed to know the full scope of the story.
Once I was done, the room fell silent. Ballard leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. “Good gods,” he whispered. “That is horrible.”
I swallowed. “It is.”
“Where is your mother now?” he asked, his gaze darting to mine. In all my years of knowing him, I had never seen such a grave expression on his face.
“That is, in part, why we are here,” I said, restlessly tapping my finger against my leg. “We do not know. She disappeared the night of their deaths, fleeing into the night. She left no trace of her whereabouts.”
“You’re looking for a tracking spell.”
“Yes.”
Ballard clicked his pen three times before speaking. “And what else?”
I had to tread carefully. He would protect the covens and their secrets at all costs, especially from vampyres. But I needed to believe that even if Ballard did not fully trust me, he would trust Sloane.
“My mother inferred she was working with someone from the covens who gave her information about the descendant. I have done countless hours of research on our history with my father, so I know that if the answers we sought were recorded, we would have found them,” I said. “And while my mother can be fanatical at times, this was different. She was confident in her knowledge.”
Ballard furrowed his brows, sighing deeply. “Rion, you know I can’t?—”
