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He remained quiet as he tucked his shirt into his slacks and retrieved his coat.
“I’m scared,” she added in a soft voice.
“You needn’t be. I have shields all over the estate. I know Ivercrest is a fortress these days, and—”
“I’m not scared about my safety,” she interrupted him, and that made him stop in his tracks. Silver eyes locked on hers.
Slowly, he closed the distance between them, sliding his hand across her jaw until it tangled in her hair. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Don’t worry about me.”
She wrapped her hand around his, feeling the coldness tingle her skin. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
He kissed her. “Always.”
Then he let her go, took his coin, flipped it, and disappeared.
Mira walked upstairs and was about to go to bed when a scroll from Obryn arrived, telling her she’d been summoned by the council at once to hear her side of the events that had unfolded at Ella’s party. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but it meant time with the man who currently held Mercer’s amulet. And she would use it wisely.
—
Obryn walked her through the council building. “Do not mention Synth or anything to do with your scar.”
She had told the Highmage about her success in separating Synth from her magic but, as he had pointed out, little had changed. She still held the most powerful weapon in the world, and Rakkley was after it. The only difference was that now such an extraction might no longer kill her because it wouldn’t extract her powers along with it. In theory. Not that she wanted to test it.
“Are we going to the Primemage’s office?” she asked, hopeful.
“No, your testimony is at the council chambers. The Primemage has never upgraded his office since he first started working for the council thirty-two years ago—despite its small size.”
“Why is it so small?”
“It’s located on the in-between floor.”
She’d read about the level that had gone wrong during magic construction. Crooked and smaller than the rest, it wasn’t really supposed to be there.
“Why hasn’t he upgraded to a bigger office?”
Obryn sighed. “I take it asking ridiculous questions is your way of dealing with stress?”
It wasn’t, but that made for a good excuse. “Yes.”
“Corvin is a peculiar person.”
A man in uniform opened the door and they stepped inside the council chambers. Three massive windows stretched as tall as the night sky. In the middle of the room stood a heavy, oval desk carved out of stone. Primemage Corvin sat in the center chair with gold details and a large backrest. To his left, in the smaller chair, sat the council representative for the Wielder delegation.
The cold light from the small lamps in front of them cast stark shadows on already stark faces.
Mira scanned Corvin’s shirt, looking for any signs he carried Mercer’s amulet underneath it. He wore a jacket over a rumpled button-up that looked several sizes too large, so she couldn’t tell.
Obryn was quiet next to her as they made their way to a set of chairs. Their steps echoed across the empty hall. The door behind them shut with a loud thud, and the last bit of light from the corridor disappeared.
“Miss Winters, thank you for coming on such short notice.” Corvin walked over to her and shook her hand. “We’re taking statements from each person in attendance of the event. Could you give us a detailed description of what you observed?”
While he took his position in the council chair, he motioned for her to take a seat. Mira sat down and told them everything from the moment Rakkley appeared—everything except for what he had said to her. She didn’t divulge that Rakkley had returned specifically to retrieve Synth currently stuck in her arm.
Corvin asked her endless questions while the Wielder next to him took notes, and when they were done, the Primemage gave her a satisfied nod.
“We’re all in agreement that the return of Rakkley is a concern, and we’re dealing with it swiftly.”
Were they? Or did the Primemage use this as an excuse to send Aidric to kill an increasing number of Wielders?
