The Prophet’s grin grew wider. “Looks like the apocalypse is coming children. The gods will take away the trace if Caia succeeds in becoming the Head of both covens.”
Relief swept through her like a huge tidal wave, and for the first time in weeks she felt as alive as a surfer crashing under it.
“Ahhhh haa haaaa!” Caia jumped up happily and threw her arms impulsively around the old guy. He hugged her back tight, laughing at her excitement. After a moment he drew back from her, his expression suddenly completely serious.
“Now all you have to do is convince the Daylights of your plan and start your witch hunt for Marita.”
She was sobered by the thought. In order to do this, to free them all from the trace, she was still going to have to kill someone. So, OK, it was the evil bitch that had murdered members of her pack, tortured innocent children and inevitably caused the death of her mentor, Marion. Hmm, when she thought about it like that, maybe taking her out wouldn’t be so difficult after all.
“The hard part is explaining all this to the Council.” Saffron sighed.
Reuben shook his head. “Not necessarily. Vanne will believe us.”
“Maybe.” Nikolai nodded. “But if you don’t mind, for now I’ll stay here. I don’t want to be imprisoned just for being of Midnight blood.”
“Fair enough.” Reuben patted him on the shoulder. He looked up at the Prophet. “Thank you. Again.”
The Prophet smiled. “It’s always a pleasure, Kirios.”
And then he was gone.
Caia stared at the spot he had been standing in for a moment before spinning around to face the weird trio that had become her only trustworthy companions of late (which wasn’t saying much). “OK. So… the Center it is then.”
Reuben nodded in agreement. He didn’t smile but there was a new light in his dark eyes. “The Center it is.”
19 – Blood Oath
The atmosphere at the Center was different than before. There had always been this tension, this sense of everyone being wound extremely tight, but also this sense of security, of feeling powerful and protected all at the same time. While there was no longer that stressful tension, it had unfortunately been replaced by a heightened sense of expectation, and the worst of it was, it was kind of like that butterfly in your belly feeling you had when you weren’t quite sure of a situation. Moreover, Caia discerned a new uneasiness among the Center’s inhabitants; a paranoid awareness of one’s own surroundings, as if awaiting imminent attack.
Reuben had called Vanne, and after having explained what Caia needed to discuss, Vanne had granted them entry to the Center. Caia hadn’t been expecting a reception, but on the other side of the portal stood Vanne, Alfred Doukas and Penelope Argyros, and they were surrounded by other magiks acting as bodyguards. The Center was electrified with the news of Caia’s return and she could feel the stares heating the back of her neck as she was taken through corridors she had never walked before. Disappearing behind the group were the cold magnolia walls and tough tiled-flooring she had thought made up most of the Center’s décor, and appearing before them were plush carpeted corridors and mahogany paneled walls.
Finally, they came to what looked like a waiting room, with eight feet tall grand double doors beyond it. Caia drew to a stop apprehensively. Something didn’t seem right. No one had spoken since they were greeted at the portal, and… what was this place?
Penelope spun around in her little kitten heels smiling gently at Caia, and she felt a little better. It seemed Alfred and Penelope genuinely liked her, so maybe convincing the Council wouldn’t be so difficult after all.
“Caia.” Penelope nodded to the waiting room. “If you would like to take a seat while Saffron and Reuben follow me. We’ll be back for you in a few minutes.”
Caia looked to Reuben and she noted the look of realization on his face as he shared a glance with Saffron. They both knew what was happening. Why the hell didn’t she?
“What’s going on?” she asked warily.
“You’ll understand in a moment,” Alfred assured her.
Saffron scowled at him. “Mr. Doukas, can you not tell her? It could come as a shock.”
What could come as a shock? Holy Artemis, what on Gaia’s green earth was going on here?! Do not hyperventilate. “Yeah.” She bobbed her head in agreement. “Tell me.”
Doukas shook his head after throwing Saffron a reproving look. “It’s not the way it’s done, Caia. I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait. Mr.… Reuben, Saffron… please follow us.”
It was only then that Caia noticed the insignificant-looking side door on the adjacent wall to the double doors. Just as they were all about to disappear through it (and no, she couldn’t get a look beyond them to see what the Hades was on the other side) she threw up a hand. “Uh, Saffron, tell them about the Krôls.”
The faerie nodded and bent to speak with Penelope as they disappeared through the door; Caia gathered she was imparting the pivotal information.
It felt like forever, sitting there, waiting, gradually growing so anxious she was sure she was going to upchuck all over the waiting room floor. Nothing had ever seemed to take as long as this wait did.
Jeez, even The Machinist was faster than this and that was one slow movie.
She snorted and then realized that she’d laughed at her own thought. Dear goddess, she was actually being driven mad by the wait. Her eyes bored into the double doors, wishing (for not the first time) if she was going to have superpowers why it couldn’t include x-ray vision. Seriously what was going on behind those damn doors and why was it so darned quiet out here?
Her heart jolted at a loud creaking noise and her eyes widened as the double doors slowly opened out towards her. She stood on trembling legs and gaped as a tall young magik she recognized as a member of the Council stared at her pensively. His name was Derren. He was the magik who had gone undercover to discover the labs.
“Caia Ribeiro,” his voice echoed and resonated behind and beyond him. “Please enter the Court of the Council.”
The what of the what now?!
There was no time to ask, he was already spinning on his heel. Caia hurried to follow him, only seeing a high, dark wooden wall carved with images of warfare. As she drew past the doors, however, her heart nearly exploded in her chest. At either side were stairs leading up into a room with the highest ceiling she had ever seen, a ceiling so grand it could have been painted by Michelangelo himself. But the heart thudding had more to do with the faces she could see peering down at her from up above the stairs. Derren waited at the top of the set to her left. Tentatively, Caia began climbing them and as she climbed she began to see over the carved wooden wall. The stairs led up to a massive circular room. In the center of the room was a circular platform and around the platform were rows of benches that rose away from the floor at a semi-steep gradient. All the rows were filled with inquisitive Daylights peering at her in a mixture of anxiety and excitement. At the furthest end of the hall in the front row benches, sat the Council, waiting expectantly. Reuben and Saffron were seated with them beside Vanne.
“Follow me,” Derren demanded and Caia crossed the platform, surprised that her legs didn’t buckle beneath her. The hush that filled the hall was nerve crippling, all eyes burning into her. Was the entire Center here? She felt her cheeks heat up under their watchful eyes. The funny thing was she thought she might able to cope with it better in wolf form.
Instead she straightened her spine and followed Derren until he stopped her smack bang in the center of the room.
Am I on trial or something?
She really wanted to ask but was frightened of messing up this ceremony or whatever it was.
Once Derren was seated with the others, an elegant man stood up. Caia recognized him as the guy who hadn’t seemed to like her much when she’d first met with the Council to tell them about the underground labs Marita had created. Well, he should be fun. Like Derren his voice boomed around the entire court.
“Caia Ribeiro, allow me to introduce myself.” His dark stare wasn’t at all friendly. “I am Benedict De Jong a member of the Council. We have just spent the last thirty minutes-
Thirty minutes? That was all?
-listening to a young man, with no affiliation to the Center, tell us of your plan to kill Marita, and ask us to make you Head of the Daylight Coven in order to gain a control of both Midnight and Daylight trace, all with the intent to perform a rite soliciting the aid of the gods to remove the trace from the supernatural world, thus freeing its inhabitants.”
It sounded really cool when he said it.
“Is this or is this not true?”
Caia nodded. “Yes, sir, it is.” She almost flinched when she realized her voice was just as loud. There must have been a speaker spell of some kind on the room so their voices carried.
A rumbling of murmurings followed this, before De Jong gestured for them to be quiet.
“Such a request would have been completely dismissed if not for the support given by not only Saffron, one of our most trusted and experienced shapeshifters, but also Vanne, who has helped lead this Coven in war for decades. These are supernaturals who have sacrificed many things for the cause, and now they are risking their good name for you. Why? Why should we believe you, a girl of Midnight blood, a girl who has been thrown out of her own pack, who has aided and abetted the escape of a young female Midnight imprisoned at this Center, who trusts the words of a Midnight Prophet, and who hides out in the home of the former Regent of the Midnight Coven?”
Caia had to stop her mouth from dropping open. She glanced up at Reuben who gave a barely perceptible shrug. The son-of-a-bitch had told them everything and hadn’t even had the decency to warn her first. She stiffened and met De Jong’s gaze. He was making it sound like she was a traitor or something.
“If Reuben has revealed all of this to you then he must have explained the circumstances.”
“Yes.” Benedict smirked. “Nikolai Petrovsky is a double agent; the Prophet is neither Midnight or Daylight at heart, and Laila is-”
“The purest soul I’ve ever met,” Caia interrupted, squaring her shoulders and blasting him with a ferocious look.
Gasps echoed around the room.
Benedict curled his lip into a sneer. “A Midnight… pure? Please do not tell me you still believe this nonsense that there are ‘good’ Midnights.”
She wanted to punch the arrogant bastard. She curled her lip right back at him. “It isn’t nonsense. There are good Midnights. Many of them.”
More gasps. Great.
The warlock glared at her. “I rather doubt it.”
“Between the two of us, last I checked I was the one who has the trace, so you can stand up there with your 99% certainty of doubting it. But I stand up here 100% knowing there are Midnights out there who don’t believe in the war.” She turned, letting her voice carry to the spectators on the benches. She glimpsed the familiar faces of Desi and Ophelia and the other friends she had made there. “The trace has kept this war alive far longer than it ever should have!” She spun slowly back to face Benedict determinedly. “Let me go after Marita. If I kill her, make me the Head of this Coven and I will free us from the trace. It is the first step to ending this war. I don’t just believe that,” she stated assuredly. “I know it. I know it with every fiber of my being.”