Page 137

“He took advantage. I was young and impressionable, and he was my professor.”

“For which he should have been fired and held accountable by the authority of the university,” answered Fiore. “Though a moral failure, it is still not a legal issue. You are over the legal age of consent, he has broken no laws, so I ask again, what crime did he commit that justified his murder?”

Abigail’s fists clenched, her face red with anger. Her mouth twisted, and her breathing quickened. Bright-blue eyes darted from the gallery, to Fiore, and then to Mercy Norton. She was looking for something, something she wasn’t finding. Sympathy? Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “He hurt me.”

The tension of the court evaporated in the wake of those words. Unspoken confusion and pity. Was that it? Was that all this man had done in the end? Was that all it took to incur such a wretched end?

Chapter 41 Saga

“This world is littered with the bodies of kind men. They enrich the soil and help it build anew. By what authority do you raise his life above all others?”

Saga moved around to the end of the table, her eyes locked on Gideon Blackthorn as the memory of his cruelty resonated in her bones. This was the creature responsible for taking her mother away. This was the being who callously spoke of death yet, until this moment, had no reason to fear it. What would she give for someone to be able to truly see the harm they had done in those moments? What would she be willing to do to hurt him the way he had hurt so many? The way he had hurt her?

“Gideon Blackthorn is just one of many monsters in this world.” Roxanne was at Saga’s side now, the proverbial devil on her shoulder. “But we have the power to stop them.”

Saga’s grip on her coat tightened, and she pulled it to her chest, hugging it to herself almost like a child with a blanket.

“What would you say to your daughter now? Knowing how you have failed her? That because of your actions, she must now live a life without either of you?”

“I hope one day she will understand I did what I thought was best for her. And that she finds it in her heart to forgive you.”

Saga didn’t know when the tears had begun to well in her eyes, but she could feel them streaming down her cheeks now.

“Doesn’t your mother deserve justice?” Roxanne asked. “Don’t you?”

Saga’s hands were shaking as she gathered her coat closer to her. “This isn’t justice.” In a fluid motion, like a spring uncoiling, she pushed Roxanne away from her and spun her coat across the polished wood of the great table, where it slid into the mirrors and the file, pushing them all off the opposite side and onto the floor.

“You stupid bitch!”

Nails bit into Saga’s shoulder, clawing down her arm as Roxanne whipped her around to face her. Instead, Saga met the eyes of her own reflection. She flinched back, feeling her whole body freeze in fear. It was over. She’d come so close. She could only hope her efforts hadn’t been completely in vain and that the others would wake soon. But then she blinked. It was involuntary and natural, and it should not have been possible.

Unless the magic the mirror had been forged with relied on altering one’s perception, not on truth. The only way Saga would have been immune to its power would be if the core of the spell relied on deceit. Something Brigid’s gift would allow her to see through.

Roxanne scowled as it became apparent that the mirror was not having any effect on Saga. “It should work. Spells don’t work here, but artifacts do.” She began to retract her arm to examine the compact. “What’s wrong with—”

“No!” Saga slapped the compact out of the girl’s hand before she could look at it, but this left her open and Roxanne’s hands wrapped around her neck.

Roxanne’s height gave her leverage, and she pressed her thumbs into Saga’s larynx.

It would not take much pressure. Saga knew that. The neck was fragile. Roxanne didn’t need to be strong.

Saga choked, instinctively scrabbling at Roxanne’s wrists as her back hit the wall of the chamber. She couldn’t take the deep breath she needed, and her mind screamed at her to focus. She felt dizzy and nauseated, bile fighting its way up a throat too strangled to let it out.

She could not name four things she could see—she could not see anything. Her vision blurred and then, in a single moment of salvation, focused just enough to see the pillar of moonlight that was Avery.

If she failed here, she failed her.

Saga’s hands dropped to her sides, giving the impression she was giving up. Then she raised her arms rapidly between Roxanne’s, forearms making an explosive contact that sent her attacker’s hands flying out to the side exactly as Daniel had taught her. With a gasp of air filling her lungs, she kicked at the other woman’s groin.

It did not quite have the same effect it would have on a male attacker, but the woman doubled over long enough for Saga to tackle her to the floor.

Saga had never been in a genuine brawl before, so she had nothing to compare this to. In films they seemed fast-paced and thrilling, but her reality was desperate and undignified. They rolled closer to the compact, and Saga kicked at it, sending it clattering several feet away from them. This skewed her position, and she brought her knee down to staple Roxanne’s arm to the floor.

Being unable to move made Roxanne flail even more violently, but with one knee on her arm and now the other on her chest, her upper body remained pinned. “How can you take their side?” she screamed at Saga.

“You watched her trial. It was my mother’s last wish.”

“Then you’re both idiots.”