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“Nothing a Pure Castor won’t be able to fix soon.” Sloane shrugged as he hooked Tegan under his arm. “And you cousin? Has he treated you well since you left us?”
Tegan glanced at the Castor, whose face was impassive, then she looked back to her cousin. “Yes, he has. I have been treated well.” Tegan took a perverse delight in the fleeting look of shock on Cord’s face. Smiling despite the morning, she too headed towards the Headquarters.
Despite their best intentions, it took the better part of a day to restore Headquarters. Lucas and a few Sentinels gathered the dead Drakhyn on the grounds and burned them. In the Headquarters themselves, Cord worked his way through the dead Drakhyn, burning them as solemn Sentinels gathered the fallen Akrhyn.
The following morning, the funeral pyre for the fallen Akrhyn was raised. Their families were called, and mid-afternoon, they took their final journey. A heaviness settled over the Headquarters. Reflection was taken early and for longer. Many Sentinels, who were not usually stationed at Headquarters, spent the afternoon on the premises, considering the current events.
Salem did not reflect. He sat in his office, studying the gathered Akrhyn in front of him. His desk had been smashed and broken, his pictures on the wall of his children had been torn by the Drakhyn. Deep scores in the wall from Drakhyn talons could be seen. Salem had refused for them to be fixed; he wanted the reminder of how easily he had lost control of his Headquarters. The questions of how the attack had happened and more importantly why there was no outside aid, burned in his gut.
In front of him were the Primes of each Cast. He also had the three Elders from his territory gathered and Cord. Marcus stood to his right, a constant steadying presence. However, his Second was watching him closely. Salem was angry, and he was very close to demanding answers.
Cord had repaired Salem’s desk with his power, as well as other smashed furniture. Salem had tossed the pictures of his children, claiming he had others. He had asked for the picture of Mikayla with him to be restored, and Cord had done so wordlessly. Salem had raised an eyebrow when the Castor had handed him the portrait, waiting for the usual sarcastic remark. Instead, he had received a wink and a smile. It had been more unsettling than Salem was ready to admit.
“We should wait for the Great Council,” Cornelius sneered at the two Akrhyn behind the desk, “in order for us not to repeat ourselves.”
“In order for them to judge me, you mean,” Salem snapped. Cornelius had arrived, perfectly presented, and had been scathing in his commentary and observations since he got here.
“Do you feel you need to be judged?” Cornelius asked, his eagerness at the prospect of Salem being found lacking clear on his face.
“Your backstabbing tongue is showing,” Cord drawled from the corner in which he sat, seemingly bored and uninterested. He had a book in his hands and was flicking through it slowly.
“Know your place, son,” Cornelius growled as he looked over at his son.
“I do, it’s in my tower. Studying.”
Several pairs of eyes flicked to Cord, some in amusement, some in frustration.
“I have called for the Great Council. They make their way here, but they are in no rush.” Salem felt malicious satisfaction when he saw Cornelius try to cover his disappointment. “I suggest we begin.”
“How did they get in?” Prime Castor Rorik asked, voicing the question thatallAkrhyn were asking. He was a quiet male, as much of his brethren were. He had the cold arrogance of his Cast, but he did not have the air of superiority that some of the Pure Cast had. As with many things in life, it was the minority that gave the majority a bad name.
Salem sighed heavily. “They walked in through the front door.”
“What?” Prime Castor Garrick asked. He looked quickly to the others as if he were uncertain that he had heard correctly.
“It is true,” Marcus confirmed. “They walked in and took us all by surprise. We fought them, but there were so many. I have never seen so many.” He shook his head in disgust. “As they fell, more came. We were simply unprepared and overwhelmed.”
“You did not call for aid?” Rorik asked curiously.
“We called,” Salem told him grimly. “Our call was not answered.” He sat back in his chair. “Why it was not answered is what I am hoping you will tell me today.”
Prime Castor Rorik shook his head in confusion. “I received no call.” He turned to the Prime Castor of the Crimson Cast. “Did you receive the call?”
“Salem, I did not. None of my Cast did.” Garrick looked to Lucas. “You?”
“I received nothing. As you know, I was doing something else.” The Dark Prime shared a look with Garrick.
“What were you doing?” Salem asked as he looked between the two of them.
“They were trying to find me,” Cord said as he read the book in front of him.
“And wherehaveyou been?” Salem asked, his hands clenching into fists.
“Away.” Cord didn’t look up from the book.
“Cord, put the book away,” Cornelius told his son impatiently.
“No.” Cord continued to read, and Marcus realised that he was skim reading.
