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Ithan reined in the shock that reared through him. Jesiba was second in command of the House of Flame and Shadow?
And she thought Hypaxia was the best necromancer for Ithan? When she had all those others at her disposal?
“And,” Jesiba went on to Hypaxia, heedless of Ithan’s surprise, “as someone who spent centuries with the witches, I have insights worthy of your attention.”
Hypaxia snapped, “You abandoned our people.”
“So did you.”
Fraught, miserable silence filled the room. Hypaxia took one bite—just one—of her ham-and-cheese sandwich.
Hypaxia didn’t know, Ithan realized, what Jesiba was, deep down. She still thought her a witch defector. “Look,” he said, “I know you guys have some baggage to sort out, but … I do have a pressing matter.”
The former witch-queen turned to him, and her eyes softened. She took another bite of her sandwich, and said after she’d swallowed, “Jesiba apprised me of the situation when she called. I must admit, I was surprised by my sister’s involvement. But I am sorry for what happened.”
He bowed his head, shame washing through him.
Hypaxia went on, finishing off the sandwich in a few more bites, “But necromancy is no easy thing, Ithan.”
“I remember,” he said.
Her lips thinned. Yeah, she remembered every minute of their little encounter with the Under-King, too. But Hypaxia said, eyes bright with determination, “I will try to help you.”
The breath nearly went out of him.
Hypaxia added, “I’ll begin tomorrow. Today I have obligations. Oaths to swear.”
Oaths to the Under-King, who’d been impressed enough by her skill at the Autumn Equinox that he’d told her he’d welcome her here. Even Morganthia Dragas would hesitate before tangling with the Under-King.
“I don’t have much time,” Ithan said.
“These oaths cannot wait,” Jesiba said. She pointed to the door of her office, an order to Hypaxia. “They must be sworn at the Black Dock before sunup, girl. You had your last meal. Now go.”
Hypaxia didn’t hesitate. She left, robes flowing behind her, and shut the door.
“Fool,” Jesiba said, slumping in her chair. “Innocent, idealistic fool.”
Ithan stayed still, wondering if she’d forgotten he was there.
But Jesiba raised her eyes to him. “She’s always been that way. Worse than Quinlan. Letting her heart lead her around like a dog on a leash. I blame her mother for keeping her locked away. No wonder Celestina swept her off her feet when—”
Ithan started. “Wait. Hypaxia and Celestina?” Jesiba nodded. Ithan angled his head to one side. “The Hind said that Celestina was the reason the Asteri knew Bryce was headed for the Eternal City. Hypaxia wouldn’t—”
“It’s over now,” Jesiba said shortly. “I have it on good authority that Hypaxia was … not pleased when she found out that Celestina had sold out your friends. But even that betrayal didn’t open Hypaxia’s eyes enough to see Morganthia’s move coming.”
“She saw it,” Ithan said. “She came here this spring, asking Ruhn for protection from Morganthia. I guarded her—”
“Protection,” Jesiba snapped. “Guarding. Not acting. She knew Morganthia was a threat and chose to wait for her to attack rather than strike her own blow against her. Rather than find allies, she played medwitch in the city, made love to that Archangel. Rather than gather power, she ran to a Fae Prince and a wolf to shield her.” She shook her head again. “Hecuba meant to protect her all these years by keeping her isolated from the corrupt covens. She hobbled her in the process.” Jesiba crossed her arms and stared at nothing, fury and disdain tightening her face.
Ithan dared ask, “Why did you defect from the witches?”
“I didn’t like the direction they were headed.”
“Was this when Hecuba was queen?”
“Long before that. The witches have been in decline for generations. A magical and moral rot.” She leaned her head against the back of her chair. “Naïve girl,” Jesiba murmured to herself.
“What sort of oaths does Hypaxia need to swear at the Black Dock before sunrise?”
