“So what do we know?” Casey asks.
“At this point,” Kirin says, “we’re running on the assumption that everything Stevie has seen in her visions is coming to fruition. Undead armies, unchecked magick, and the Dark Arcana themselves—the Magician, the Chariot, Judgment, and the Sun, as much as I hate admitting that last one. It’s only a matter of time before they figure out how to break into our realm—Stevie’s seen it. If they’re not here by sunrise, I’ll be shocked.”
“Campus is the primary target we’re worried about,” I say. “That’s what I kept seeing in the visions. Plus, it’s the quickest way to take out a lot of witches and mages at once—to turn them into soldiers, who in turn can take out more witches and mages… You see where this is going.”
Professor Broome reaches over and takes Nat’s hand, giving her a quick squeeze. The poor girl has been completely silent since she saw Doc’s blood.
Not that I blame her.
“We’re facing a war on two fronts right now,” Kirin continues. “The Dark Arcana are probably the bigger threat, but I worry Eastman is weakening our position from within the Academy. We need to shore up somehow—get the Academy’s magickal and physical defenses in place—but we can’t risk Eastman finding out about our plans.”
Casey nods, the skin around her eyes tight with worry. “It was hard to get the full assessment in the short time Agent Quintana and I were on campus tonight, but I agree—the Academy itself is our weakest link right now. Intel is limited, but one thing is certain—Eastman and his dark mages have the place on lockdown.”
“How are the students holding up?” Baz asks. “People must be completely freaked.”
“Yes and no.” She sips her tea, then sets down the mug. “We went over there expecting a lot of panic and confusion. We’d hoped to slip into the chaos unnoticed, maybe extract some of the students and faculty back here via the portals. But there wasn’t any chaos to speak of. The place was eerily quiet.”
“It’s like Trello said,” Quintana adds. “Eastman has taken over management. He seems to be employing a two-pronged strategy of scaring the shit out of everyone, then sweeping in like a white knight, promising to keep them safe.”
“Fucking fraud,” Baz mutters.
“Yeah. Unfortunately, with Trello gone and no one else challenging the man, most of the students and faculty are buying his act. And we can’t alertthemwithout alertinghim.”
“They have no idea what they’re up against,” Casey says. “Eastman talks a good game, but he’s not keeping anyone safe. He’s buying time, readying for the attack.”
“So you think he’s coordinating with the Dark Arcana?” Carly asks. “I thought he was Mr. Magick-is-Evil, All-Mages-Must-Burn-in-Hell. Why would he get in bed with the most magickal of all magick users?”
Casey grips her mug so tightly her fingertips turn white. “Despite his claims against it, Eastman has no problems accessing dark magick to further his own cause. I’m assuming he’s got enough followers on the inside to make a stand, not to mention backers on the outside further supporting the hate campaign.”
“It’s only a matter of time before he finds a way to break the rest of the wards and bring those outsiders in,” Quintana says. “Whether their faction ultimately wants to put down the Dark Arcana is irrelevant. At the moment, both factions have the same enemy: the students and faculty of Arcana Academy and…” He takes a deep inhale and shakes his head, as though he still can’t believe the epic level of fuckery we’re dealing with. “And everyone sitting around this table. Especially…”
His gaze lands on mine, and my stomach bottoms out, Trello’s earlier words floating through my memory.
“Everything the Magician wants, everything he’s chased, across the boundaries of time and space, for millennia—you already have the power to command. You can unite the Arcana objects and reclaim magick for the witches and mages who seek to honor it. You have the power to unite the Light Arcana in the battle against the coming darkness. And when the rest of the world wants to give up, to lay down their arms and walk away from this fight, you have the power to inspire hope. To give us all a reason to keep living. To keep loving. To keep fighting, no matter what the cost.”
She was talking about the Magician, but she could have been talking about any one of our enemies. If I’m the one with all this so-called power—a woman literally brought into this world by magick itself—it’s no wonder they all want to see my head on a pike.
Goddess, this all feels so impossible. I was created by magick—a wish made by my mother and granted by the Dark Magician himself—with my blood now being demanded as payment for Mom’s debts. Enemies lurk in every shadow, and now we have to worry about them teaming up against us in some crazy magickal showdown no one on Team Good Guy is prepared for. And two of our best men—mymen—are being held captive.
Injuredand captive.
A shiver grips me tight, shaking me to the core. Every time I close my eyes for even asecond, I see only Doc’s blood, the storm in his eyes as I held him. I smell his fear, feel his love for me, feel his life force fading away with every labored breath…
“Where are the students being held?” Professor Maddox asks, and I blink away the terrible memories, forcing my attention back to the agents.
Information. That’s what I need. Information is good. All part of the planning process. All part of keeping my mind focused on what has to be done.
“We don’t know exactly,” Casey says. “We didn’t have time to do a complete assessment before Eastman’s guards starting getting close.”
“How many on-campus mages and witches are officially on Team Asshole?” I ask.
“That’s another unknown,” Quintana says.
“Best to assume the worst,” Professor Broome says. “The last thing any of us can afford is to underestimate our enemies. Especially now.”
“What do you think we should do, Stevie?” Nat asks. It’s the first she’s spoken in an hour, and when I look at her now, all I see—all Ifeel—is hope. Hope that I can help. Hope that we can figure this out. Hope that we’ll survive another day.
All of them are awaiting my answer—all of them holding the same spark of hope I see in Nat’s eyes. Again, I hear Trello’s voice in my head.
