Enchanter's Echo (13 page)

Aurora stumbled, her breath lost as if those teeth had consumed it in an airy meal. Edmund grabbed her, yanking her away from the powerful pair.

“You have those spells because you stole them.” The High Councilor spoke slowly, as if her mouth struggled to form speech. She reached out to caress the apprentice’s fine skin with a pointy fingernail. “Do you want to try again? Did you not learn your lesson, my pretty? I’m happy to go another round.”

The apprentice blanched, her eyes widening with terror. “No, my lady.” She dropped her head with the whisper.

The High Councilor took a simple breath, and her face resumed its normal shape. She turned around and resumed her pace and the conversation as if nothing untoward had occurred. “Of course, I struggle to keep my memories straight partly because I bury everything deep in the shadows of my soul.”

What were they talking about?

Aurora clenched at Edmund. He froze for a moment, as if he were pondering fleeing. She looked up at him, ready to run, but he shook his head in regret. He gripped her arm and dragged her three large paces to catch up with the old woman. Without his support she would have fled for home.

“For the good of my
people, I can’t afford to wear my secrets written before me like an unfolded scroll, glittering truths for any old woman who might be inclined to don her reading glasses.”

Goddess, the High Councilor knew what she’d done. Doom lodged like a sideways wand in her throat, impossible to swallow down. She’d never fainted before. Another new experience for the day, she thought, as blackness crept forth. The vinegar scent swished into her nose. She revived whether she wanted to or not.

“Dark shadows are useful, enchantress. Their strength hides treasures. If you can’t cultivate your own shadows, someone needs to do it for you. Was it your idea or Edmund’s for you to wear his vibes?”

“Hers,” Edmund answered.

“Does she speak? Did that black cat steal her tongue?”

“Did you steal its life?” Naturally, Aurora’s voice returned just in time to seal her fate.

The High Councilor cackled again. “Oh, you do have potential!”

From behind them, the apprentice spoke up. “I doubt she’ll live up to it.” Her snotty voice carried clearly.

The old crone looked back over her shoulder at the girl and then stared at Aurora. “She doesn’t like many people,” she said in a stage whisper. “Don’t take it personally.”

No, it didn’t feel personal. It felt deadly. Why did the High Councilor put up with the girl?

“Because I’ve never seen such power. Most oracles get more than one true power, you know.”

She hadn’t.

“If she can harness it, she’ll drag the Republic in her wake of greatness. I’ve seen it.” She shrugged. “But there are many futures before us. Do you want to know one of your futures?”

Aurora shook her head madly. She didn’t want anything from this woman. She trembled as they crossed into the park and closed in on the river and its boat.

A small crowd of gawkers lined the grassy areas of the park, maintaining a healthy distance from the sidewalk and cheering for the leader of their Republic. The woman inspired enough fear that they wouldn’t dare creep closer. How had they found out she would be here?

“They didn’t know I’d be here. I’m a surprise. However, they did know you and Edmund would be here. It was in the newspapers, of course,” the High Councilor said.

Go blank. Blank. Blank.

“Of course not. A blank article wouldn’t have told them a thing. The story clearly stated the heir would escort his enchantress, whose social debut they attended together last night—see front page—on a morning sail on the Santa Maria.”

Game face.

“I’m sure your game face would be arresting...if you had one, that is.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “Now quit shouting at me. Edmund, do something. Thicken your vibes over her. I had no idea how necessary those fabled towers are for enchantresses, for their own protection…and to protect those whose biding they follow.”

The apprentice dashed around the High Councilor to face them, skipping backwards as she spoke. “Why don’t you come home with us, enchantress?” The kind offer didn’t match the conniving sparkle in her eyes. She looked at the High Councilor. “We can keep her safe.”

“If we take her, who’s going to keep us safe from the wrath of Rallis?” the High Councilor demanded. “I need them moderately happy. Or at least moderately undecided to assassinate me.”

“Rallis.” The apprentice rolled her eyes again. She stopped skipping and turned her back on them. “It’s always Rallis.”

“Yes, it’s always Rallis and Bradford and Casteel and Noble and Winslowe. And all the other territories and families, whatever their names are. I can’t remember. I can’t know everything.”

“You can’t?” Edmund’s wry voice prompted a cocky sniff from the apprentice.

The High Councilor shook her head. “I wouldn’t need you two if I knew everything.”

The apprentice stomped off toward the boat, pulling ahead. That was fine with Aurora. The girl gave her the chills.

The three of them walked through the park, passing the monument that honored the heroes who’d died fighting against the enhanced, rogue mages in the uprisings. A tall, thin pyramid built of round pebbles—one for each life lost—were charmed into place and reached toward the sky, symbolizing the triumph of all-natural mages.

But Lily, Tera, and Izzy weren’t rogue. Aurora couldn’t stop the thought from tumbling into her mind. She gave a sideways glance to the High Councilor. The woman’s face didn’t hint at overhearing her mental ramblings.

They continued down the curving, sloped sidewalk to the Santa Maria. The plank extended, anticipating their approach up to the replica of Columbus’s boat. The apprentice strutted up to the boat’s deck and spun around to await them on board. Her regal pose made it appear as if she were already in charge.

The High Councilor stopped at the bottom of the plank. For a moment, Aurora thought she might reprimand the teen for her superior attitude. Instead, she spun to Aurora and wrenched her face with a sharp grip.

A short cry escaped her mouth. She tried to pull away, but the old woman’s grip was strong.

“You, Aurora Aster Firenze, are my servant from this moment forth.” Her fierce tone was laced with sharp power. “As I am the High Councilor, hand of the Republic, so, too, shall you be my hand.” The words shot into Aurora’s mind like a stream of poisoned smoke. “You will heed my commands, bow down to my laws. You will keep my silence. No knowledge of the fissures shall pass from you to anyone, except to the heir of Rallis.”

The words tightened around Aurora, an electrified lasso that would squeeze out her secrets, her power, her soul…slicing and molding her essence until the old woman was satisfied. A lifetime of pain compacted into a moment—just long enough for Edmund to wrap his arms around her and pull her against his body as she slumped. The hurt echoed through her every cell.

“Not fair, Lady.” Edmund’s hot anger pounded through Aurora as she lay against him. “She should have been offered a choice.”

“Fair? A choice?” The High Councilor’s words distorted the air. “She had a choice. She chose not to vow loyalty to Rallis. Had you done so, enchantress, the big boy could have protected you from that. But now that we have that out of the way, let’s fix some problems.” She clapped her hands. “Up, up we go!”

The High Councilor started up the plank to her apprentice. The girl was grinning as if she’d enjoyed Aurora’s pain. The guards followed their mistress to the boat. The sails unfurled in a triumphant spill, its crew at attention on the deck. The small crowd cheered, though Aurora was fairly certain they’d quiet down when she threw up. The way her nausea was returning surely that would happen at any moment.

“Oh, fine. Here.” The High Councilor’s grumble sounded in Aurora’s ear.

A wave of vibes washed over her. Her own vibes. They immediately settled in beneath Edmund’s energy. Aurora swallowed down her thanks. Her power should never have been stolen in the first place.

“Nonsense,” the woman threw her voice again. “You’re much too strong to risk being close to me without you pledging loyalty. Now you can’t hurt me. But I can still hurt you. Now get up here.” A spell laced the command.

The old woman’s energy bounced around Aurora’s mind like knives enhanced with a jumping spell, slicing the chains that held her outrage in check at this entire farce. Aurora marched up the plank.

“Oh, look at her!” the apprentice smirked from her spot next to the High Councilor. “Somebody’s mad.”

Aurora ignored her. “That was not a pledge.”

“It was. The same one extracted from senators, their ascenders, and their heirs to uphold the Republic, its laws, its people, blah, blah, blah,” the old crone explained.

Aurora planted her feet against the wooden deck. “Pledges are offered. They’re sworn. They’re not ripped out of your gut like yesterday’s lunch.”

The High Councilor’s cackle returned. “How did you describe it, Edmund? Refresh my overloaded memory. Ah, I remember. You said it felt like I’d ripped your future children from your balls. The most honest response I’ve ever gotten from the pledge, although yesterday’s lunch isn’t bad.”

The wind chose that moment to give Aurora a push from behind, as if encouraging her. “The Republic has some crappy laws. Some are so rigid, it’s a wonder anyone can follow them. What if I don’t want to uphold them all?” She regretted the words the moment they left her lips.

The apprentice laughed, high and pretty. “Oh, I’m going to miss her when she’s dead. Are you sure we can’t keep her for awhile?”

The High Councilor strode forward until her cape brushed Aurora’s dress.

Goddess, help me.

The old woman stroked a finger down Aurora’s face. “Yes, someone needs to help you.”

* * * *

Edmund slid his arm around his enchantress’s shoulders, pulling her into his chest. He didn’t want the High Councilor touching her anymore. She’d touched Aurora’s face twice now. It would be a simple matter for her to bury a spell on his sweet enchantress…his sweet enchantress who kept baiting the old crone. He rested his hand close to her throat, easy access to cover her mouth.

“Crappy laws on my scrolls.” The crone drummed her fingers against her chin, a parody of thoughtfulness. “A problem. And a discussion for another time. Reserve your strength for our most pressing predicament. The weak could not endure what is ahead.” The High Councilor’s voice flattened. “Can you endure, Edmund?”

“I will do whatever is necessary for the good of Rallis.” Rallis first. Rallis above all.

At the edge of the deck, the silent crew cast off the ropes. The boat rocked back and forth as it shimmied away from its moorings. An unnatural shove of vibes pushed it to the center of the Scioto River. The sails snapped, powered by spells.

“And what about you, enchantress? Are you honed to endure?” The High Councilor turned her sightless gaze to Aurora.

The apprentice snorted. “Enchanter mages do not endure life. They celebrate it.”

“She does not endure, correct.” The crone nodded. “But neither does she celebrate. Did her time in Noble do this to her?”

Noble. What the vibing hells had they done to her?

The apprentice stamped her foot but stumbled as the boat dipped and then rose again. “Noble is a fine territory, too much riddled and disparaged by Rallis and even the Council.”

The High Councilor, her mouth tight, faced her successor. “You, girl, have yet to let go of your birth territory in your heart. You cannot rule the Republic until it rules you.” The sharp words stabbed with power.

The apprentice bore her mistress’s unseeing stare for longer than Edmund would have thought. Finally, she dropped her eyes and simpered. “You’re right, my lady.” She stepped toward Aurora, holding out her arms. She smiled, so fake Edmund couldn’t contain his grimace. “An embrace of peace, enchantress, from Noble to Rallis,” the girl said.

“No.” Edmund stepped in front of Aurora. The ceremonial embrace was traditionally offered from one territory’s family to another. “She’s not vowed to the family.” For the first time, he was glad about that. He didn’t want this girl touching her either. “She can’t stand for us.” Not today.

The apprentice’s smile turned meek and she tilted her head. “But she does stand for you. I can see it in your heart.” She giggled as if he were foolish. “Are you refusing an embrace from Noble to one of your own? Are you declaring war then?”

Aurora stepped around. The threat of war
ensured her cooperation. “It’s all right, Edmund.”

It wasn’t. He wanted to yank her out of here, tuck her behind Rallis’s gates and keep her safe. He glared at the apprentice, but the girl merely preened. She held out her arms for the embrace. Aurora slowly leaned in, holding her torso away. The apprentice jerked her close. Her mouth hovered over Aurora’s shoulder, exposed from the wide neckline of the gown. With her gaze on Edmund, she bared her teeth, as if she might bite down and suck out his sweet girl’s glitter.

He started forward, ready to wrench Aurora to safety, but the apprentice lifted her hand and patted Aurora’s naked skin instead. His enchantress jumped back like she’d been pinched. She flexed her shoulders, shaking off the girl’s touch.

“Peace to you, Rallis,” the girl said with a wicked smile, looking Aurora in the eye.

“Peace to you, Noble,” Aurora stated in return, finishing the short ritual with a tepid tone.

The girl simpered and tried to skip back behind her mistress, but her legs foundered as the boat dipped and swayed down the river. Landlocked Noble Territory did not produce seaworthy mages. Maybe she’d fall overboard and the boat would sail on without her.

The High Councilor frowned at the girl as if annoyed. Perhaps he should offer to push the apprentice overboard.

“You already fixed one fissure,” the crone said, finally getting down to business. “Risky, that, Edmund. She wasn’t vowed to secrecy. There was nothing to stop her from shouting to the world that you damaged your territory and the Republic.”

“Yes, there is,” Aurora blurted. “Because that would be a lie. He didn’t create that spot.”