Page 82 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

FORTY-FIVE

EMMA

I felt like the cliché heroine in one of my trashy fantasy novels, forced into a one-bed situation with the male lead who could never seem to confess his love.

However, unlike every novel I'd ever read with that trope, my dark and brooding hero wasn’t exactly thrilled about the arrangement.

As we entered the room, he made a beeline for his bag and disappeared into the bathroom without a word. Charming .

Taking a deep breath, I realized he was likely nervous about the impending meeting with the Board.

Truth be told, so was I. If they had somehow found out about my untraceable translation, tonight could alter the course of everything.

If they didn’t simply kill me off for threatening the Great Exposure.

But I had faith in James. He remained steadfast in his belief that no one knew about it, convinced there was little to no chance the Council had a mole. And I was certain James was far more deadly than any Board member we would encounter.

So all in all, I was feeling pretty relaxed. No, that was a lie, but it was one I only tried to convince myself of.

As James came out of the bathroom, I took in his new appearance.

Gone was any trace of friendliness or even humanity.

Before me stood the stone-cold killer, dressed for the part in black Offensive attire, his weapons on display though his tattoo was barely visible, covered by dark fabric.

My breath hitched as I absorbed his harsh features and icy demeanor.

His green eyes were back to their murderous intent, his entire posture formidable.

I swallowed hard, realizing he’d gone full dark mode for my sake. And hell, if that wasn’t incredibly hot.

He glanced at me for a second and shot me a disapproving look. “That’s what you’re wearing when you’re going into battle?”

I blinked. “We’re going into battle?”

James squinted, sizing up my demeanor. “You shouldn’t be this trusting. Prepare for the worst, be surprised by the best.”

Innocently staring at the one bed between us, I quipped, “Will you be whispering that later tonight into my ear as well?”

James stiffened, and I couldn't help but feel a little insulted. Clearly, the idea of us sharing a bed seemed borderline revolting to him. Which was confusing, considering our physical attraction had been skyrocketing lately.

Instead of retorting, he quickly translated my battle clothes onto the bed. “Change into that in the bathroom, I need the room for a second to bubble us in.”

I frowned, while grabbing the clothes. “You’re going to bubble in our room?”

James shook his head. “The entire cabin actually, but I’ll do it from here. To make sure only the people in here now, can enter. Whatever they have planned for us, we’ll have a safehouse right here in Alliance.”

I grabbed the clothes from the bed, choosing to ignore his commanding tone for once. “Can’t you just portal us back to Cyclos if needed?” I asked.

“Yes. That’s plan A. But we need a plan B, in case something prevents us from portaling out.”

I nodded and hurried into the bathroom, quickly changing into the clothes James had provided.

Staring at myself in the mirror one last time before venturing back out, I caught myself fervently hoping this wouldn’t be the last time I’d see my own face.

“I’m not dying tonight,” I whispered softly, encouraging myself to exit the bathroom.

“No, you’re not.” I almost jumped out of my own skin.

James sighed, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “If you hadn’t been so mesmerized by your own reflection, you would’ve heard me come in.”

I shrugged, attempting to sound nonchalant. “Might be the last time ever.” Yet despite my efforts, my voice betrayed a tremble, revealing my underlying vulnerability and fear. Darn it.

James uncrossed his arms and surprised me by grabbing my hand and pulling me into a hug.

Nestling my face into his chest, I took a deep breath and imprinted on his intoxicating scent, a blend of leather and spice with hints of ginger and dark musk.

It enveloped me, stirring a mix of danger and desire, which felt very apt for the situation we were about to walk into.

“You owe these people nothing,” he whispered, his breath dancing on the shell of my ear. “If you want to go home, just say the word.” I entangled myself from his embrace and shook my head.

“I’m fine. I just needed a hug.” I winked, but my playfulness was cut short by a rough knock on our door.

“We’re coming,” James grumbled. He scanned my face quickly, searching my eyes for… something. Then, he took my hand and portaled us downstairs, where the Maumars, Martin and Dennis Dale awaited us.

The walk from the cabin to the Main Cave, where the Board was convening, was long and rather steep.

The howling wind echoed between the towering rock formations, carrying with it a sense of primal power and scary-ass vibes.

Darkness cloaked the rugged terrain, broken only by the occasional flicker of moonlight slipping through narrow crevices.

I could hardly see where I stepped and James had saved me from falling on my ass (and face) several times.

Although I’d never been in any real danger to hurt myself, his mood had gone from dark to straight up Killzone by the time we’d arrived.

“Wait here,” Dennis Dale ordered, entering the Main Cave by himself.

As the four of us stood outside, I noticed Martin shifting his weight from one foot to the other a few times. “Are you okay?” I whispered under my breath. Martin nodded, but he had visibly paled since we’d seen him last. What was up with him?

Switching my focus to James, I saw his Skindo glide slowly into his hand, his fingers clutching its hilt. He was clearly getting ready to fight, which was doing nothing to alleviate my own concern.

My nerves were on edge, a knot tightening in my stomach with each passing moment. Every instinct screamed at me to flee, but I forced myself to stand my ground, steeling my resolve for whatever awaited us inside the cavern.

Seconds turned into minutes and by the time Dennis Dale came back to get us, my anxiety was through the roof.

Dale motioned us to follow him and I took the first step inside the Cave. James flanked my left, Martin my right. The Maumars were right behind me and I couldn’t help but feel less protected than this afternoon, when I’d been surrounded by James’s friends.

Why did I come here?

The descent took nearly twenty minutes, my breathing growing shallow with each step.

I fought to keep the rising panic at bay, silently urging myself to stay calm.

As if he could sense my growing discomfort, James shot me a stern look, his non-verbal communication as efficient as always: “Don’t show any weakness. ”

I swallowed back my fear and focused on him instead. James would get me out. Whatever was about to happen, he would get me out safely. I was sure of it. The feminist voice inside my head yelled at me for being so reliant on a man, but in that moment, I needed him more than my principles.

At the end of the stairs, Dale halted us abruptly, his hand raised in a commanding gesture. With a swift motion, he uncloaked an impressive entrance before us, while a shimmering seal emerged in front of it, pulsating with energy.

Dale stepped forward, his hand hovering over the seal as he translated his energy signature with practiced precision.

The seal responded, recognizing his unique resonance, generating a subtle glow.

With a low hum, the gate parted, offering us a quick view of what to expect once inside.

I tried to sneak a peek but Dale stepped in front of me, blocking my view entirely. Ass .

As the Maumars approached the sealed doors, dread gnawed at my insides.

I knew I lacked the ability to translate my energy as the others could.

The Maumars opened the gate quickly and moved inside.

Fear threatened to rise again, until a memory flickered to life—the moment Stephen and I had parted Cyclos’s river using a strand of my hair.

I discreetly plucked a hair from my head and placed it onto a marking on the wall.

A wave of relief washed over me as the marking responded to my energy, granting me access.

James was quick to follow me and brushed the back of my hand softly with his in passing.

My heart pounded in my chest, each second dragging out into an eternity. Walking inside the chamber, tension hung thick in the air, suffused with the fiery red glow emanating from the surrounding cliffs. The room itself seemed to be bathed in this hue, casting large shadows along the walls.

Finally meeting face to face with the Board, I hadn't known what to expect. Looking upon their faces, each of them bore the hallmark of a lifetime spent with great responsibility, their features etched with lines of experience and insight.

The Board was seated on a raised platform at the far end of the chamber, their forms partially hidden by the dim light.

Positioned in a semicircle, their chairs were arranged in a deliberate way, each member facing toward the center of the room where our group now stood together.

The raised platform itself was decorated with fancy carvings and designs, showing off its importance.

Each seat was made from dark wood that shined in the torchlight. As the group walked closer, the Board members stayed seated at their high-up spot, showing they had power and control over what was going to happen next. Like there’d be any doubt.

Dennis Dale positioned himself between us and them, seemingly acting as our spokesperson, which aggravated me immensely. I barely knew the man and trusted him about as much as I trusted a snake in the grass.

As the tension thickened, Maria, Leader of Cyclos, stepped forward to address the assembly.

Her voice cut through the silence like a knife, commanding attention and respect from all those present.

"We are so deeply saddened by the news of Antwerp," she began, her words laced with sorrow and concern.

"Please, would you be so kind as to inform us what happened? "

Her request was met with silence. I shifted a little, trying to alleviate my unease.

“Radicals!” a voice rasped from the stage in front of us. A voice, so chilling, it sent instant shivers down my spine.

“They came at high noon,” another voice joined in. “Their hunger for power and their need for destruction too great to withstand.”

Maria furrowed her brows and as I glanced sideways, James seemed as confused as her.

Shoving Dale aside, James stepped forward, positioning himself in front of me, shielding me directly from the Board’s view.

"How is that possible? Antwerp housed five thousand of the most powerful magi of all time. The Radicals we’ve encountered so far have been untrained, unfocused, and certainly not powerful enough to take down the epicenter of the magi-world," he stated firmly, his voice tinged with disbelief.

The Board fell into a heavy silence, their expressions unreadable.

Then, with a swift gesture, one of the larger figures conjured a haze so quickly, I almost missed it, and translated a blue circle into the center of the room, its surface rippling like liquid and casting a ghostly pallor.

Sensing the tension, Martin drew closer, positioning himself protectively in front of me. "Relax, it’s just a memory," James whispered, his voice a reassuring murmur.

As the circle's ethereal light enveloped us, the air hummed with a magical energy, and a vivid scene began to materialize within its confines.

The memory revealed an object of ominous beauty—an enigmatic spire-like structure.

Its softly pulsing core emitted a faint silver glow that bathed the intricate patterns etched into its surface.

Despite its simplicity, the device exuded an aura of immense power, hinting at the obvious darkness it held.

Martin gasped at the sight of it, while James frowned.

"What is that?" I whispered softly.

James shrugged, clearly as oblivious to its meaning as I was.

"That’s impossible!" Martin exclaimed.

"We assure you that it is not," one of the Board members replied dryly.

"The use of Amplifiers has been banned for cycles! The last one was destroyed during the Dark Ages. This is..." Martin was grasping for words while I turned back to James.

"Amplifiers?" I asked, but James ignored me entirely, too wrapped in a silent conversation with Maria, now standing behind me.

"We have no idea how they came to know of this object, but the Radicals have signed a clear declaration of war by using this last night on the city of Antwerp," the Board member continued.

"Where is it now?" Martin asked, his voice filled with panic.

"We’re in possession of it," the Board member replied.

"What’s an Amplifier?" I asked again, my voice stronger this time.

"You’re in possession of an Amplifier?" Martin repeated, incredulous.

"We’re in possession of the only Amplifier," another Board member clarified.

"That you have knowledge of..." Maurice interjected.

"WHAT’S AN AMPLIFIER?" I yelled, my impatience too far gone to reel back in.

"It’s a weapon," James answered too calmly, ignoring the fact I had just yelled at the most powerful magi in the world.

"I have never seen one before but it’s our version of a nuclear bomb.

An Amplifier detects and amplifies the emotions of magi, pushing them to extreme states.

Fear becomes terror, anger becomes rage, and sadness becomes despair.

Because of that, their magic escalates and uses too much energy.

If turned on for ten minutes, everyone translating during those ten minutes will implode. "

The room fell silent after James's explanation, the weight of his words settling heavily upon us.

The Board members exchanged grim looks before one of them finally spoke.

"Humans were spared. However, of the five thousand magi living in Antwerp, half were dead within the first few minutes. The Radicals left the Amplifier turned on for almost half an hour, killing almost the entire magi-population. We were lucky the United Chiefs weren’t in town or they would’ve been wiped out as well. ”

She paused. “Aside from the United Chiefs, only those you see before you and a handful of civilian magi managed to escape to Alliance,” her voice wavered, the horror of the events evident in her tone.

“Everyone else is dead.”