She throws her arms around him and he embraces her back.
“I thought I heard your voice.”
“I need a moment,” Roiven says stiffly. “Go back in. I’ll be there soon.”
“Torain will take it the wrong way,” she says, stepping back from him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“As a sign you aren’t yourself.”
“The coven has gathered,” one of the men says. “You spoke the pacts, Roiven. The call must be answered.”
“I just need a minute. Go back and I’ll join you.”
“Torain thinks you shouldn’t be allowed in at all,” Aria tells him. “And if you don’t comerightnow, he’s going to take it as...”
Roiven’s eyes find me for a minute. He wavers, then nods.
“Fine,” the Witch King growls.
We descend a wide, shallow ramp, and I blink up at the ornate wooden doors at the bottom, which are so tall I’m pretty sure a smaller adult dragon could fit through them, never mind that they’d never get in through the doors to the caldera. We pass through with me at the back.
It’s a breathtaking room, taller than the one we just came from. Columns soar up to the ceiling, where more holes allow dusty light to stream down. The biggest tree I’ve ever seen is right in the middle, and I nearly gasp at the sight. Its trunk is wider than I am, and the gnarled branches weave a lattice over my head. Brightly-colored birds flit around the branches, chirping to each other.
Eight more witches stand beside the tree’s base, arguing as they surround a low table. Their conversation falters and halts the moment we step inside. Then their eyes are all on Roiven. And on me.
Avreen lounges against the tree with her arms crossed. She glares at me for a second, then nods to Roiven. Whatever this ‘Coven of Ancients’ is, it seems she’s part of it. We’re far from friends, but it’s kind of nice to see a familiar face.
Aria stays with us, but the other two witches that came to find Roiven stride across the room, returning to their group.
“I’m voicing my objection, again,” a handsome man in the group of witches says. He’s tall and lean, with high-boned cheeks. He doesn’t look much older than me, but the hair falling to his shoulders is already silver-white. “We don’t know the full extent of the enchantments on Roiven. He should not be allowed to join the coven on Avreen and Nor’s reports alone.”
“I take that personally,” Avreen says.
Why Avreenand Nor’sreports? Roiven didn’t mention the shy blonde person was coming here too. I don’t see them with the rest of the coven. Maybe they just sent a letter, or something. I’m not sure why they’d need to, when Avreen is here and is clearly someone important.
“You let your loyalties blind you,” Torain tells Avreen.
“Youwouldn’t know loyalty if it bit your ass,” Avreen answers.
“Enough, both of you,” Aria says, stepping past Roiven. “We already voted. My brother stays.”
Thisishis little sister, then. The one he was trying to get water for when Sava bonded him. I feel my shoulders relax slightly even though it’s ridiculous to care. The silver-haired man draws a deep breath, his lips pressed tight.
“What happened to being blood brothers?” Avreen asks Torain, in a tone that feels taunting. Torain’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t look back at her.
“He's Enchanted. I merely want it noted that I believe this is amistake. King or not, friend or not, we do not know enough to trust his will is his own,” Torain snaps.
“Nor, of all people, would know if he had lost his free will,” another witch says. She’s got gold hair twisted like a crown around her head, and she’s seated in a wheeled chair.
“And the imperial knight?” Torain asks. My back stiffens. “I thought Roiven would keep her under watch, not bring her to a meeting and make her privy to—”
“Sheisunder watch,” Roiven says, his voice perfectly smooth. “Mywatch. And I'll follow the will of the coven on whether I am part of the planning or not.”
It’s uncomfortable, being talked about like this. What’s more, Torain is acting like I’m a spy. I’m not here to destroy these people anymore. But I guess I can’t blame him for assuming, when my hands are so bloodstained.
“Perhaps…” Aria starts to respond. She turns to look at me, a considering weight in her gaze. Then her eyes drop down and she freezes.
