Page 81 of A Monarch's Fall

“You want me to use my novel ability,” I said, no longer hungry.

“I want there to be the threat of you potentially using your novel ability. As you said, people are not just going to get along. The former nobles, if left unchecked, will see a power vacuum and scheme, bribe, kill, and take what they want. It’s what they do. They cannot help themselves. Your ability, and others, could act as a punishment to ward against such behaviour,” she explained.

“Others? There are more than Jack and me with novel abilities?” I asked; I already suspected as much. Jack had let it slip that there were more when he said that none of them were meant to talk about their novel abilities.

“Do you know how many soldiers The New Foundation has?” she asked instead of answering me.

“No,” I said.

“In total, we have less than ten thousand, all spread out. On this base, we have under one thousand. Do you know how many soldiers the Borealis kingdom has at its command, even without the largest of southern Houses?” she asked. I shook myhead no, “Somewhere between seven hundred thousand and one million,” she answered for me. “We will not win this war through brute strength. This war will be won strategically, politically, through hearts and minds and through power which cannot be challenged.”

“In other words, through the use of novel abilities,” I stated.

“It’s not quite that simple, but yes,” she said.

“Who else has novel abilities?” I asked.

“Are you finished with your breakfast?” she asked, and I was becoming tired of being asked a question instead of being answered.

“Yes,” I said.

She nodded seriously.

“I wish to introduce you to others like yourself, Percy. Your ability is unique in how powerful it makes you, but others have their own novel abilities, much like Jack's; they are less potent but uniquely useful. Come with me,” she said as she pushed herself back from the table and stood.

I stood and followed her out of the apartment, where we were once again greeted by soldiers who followed behind us.

Chapter eighteen

An Odd Place for a School.

Percy Flores

Lady Flores led me deeper into the mansion than I had been before. I hadn’t explored Witching Command at all, really. Everywhere I went, I was accompanied by Kat. When I thought about it, other than to sleep and use the bathroom and shower, I hadn’t been alone since Arvid had dropped me off after I awoke.

At the ground floor, I was surprised when Lady Flores reached a heavily guarded, metal door and, using a drop of her blood, much like the seal that I had used within Ardens, opened the door to an underground basement level.

“When we first arrived here, the mansion was in much need of repair. The repair works were a perfect cover for us to add additional space within the old cellar. This is the most highlyguarded and protected area within the building. Few know of its existence. From this moment, Percy, I am entrusting you with our greatest and yet most fragile assets. Do you understand?” she asked as the door was opened and she wrapped her bleeding finger in a handkerchief from her pocket.

“I understand,” I told her.

Anxiety rose up within me. I was sure this was what Arvid’s instincts or knowledge gained through his other spies, because he undoubtedly had others, were warning him of.

I followed Lady Flores as she led the way down stone steps, with fluorescent lights set in the concrete ceiling above, and we travelled deeper underground. At the end of the stairway, another metal door was guarded by two more soldiers — women, Flores witches certainly.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” they greeted Lady Flores in unison.

“Good morning,” Lady Flores replied as one of the women opened the door.

Immediately, childlike laughter escaped through the door, small voices shouting and screeching in joy.

On the other side of the door was a bright space. Passionflower, colourful and in full bloom, decorated the walls, which were themselves bold with childish cartoon figures. It was like stepping into a junior school activity room.

Two small girls ran up to Lady Flores excitedly. They could not have been older than ten.

“Lady Flores, Lady Flores, want to see the picture I drew for you?” One of the girls asked.

“Who’s that?” the other asked, pointing at me.