Page 68 of Contested Crown

The way he said it was like reassuring himself. He could have been one of these people. He could have been trapped in one of these white rooms, his magic being siphoned off onto the walls.

Slowly, I pressed one of the doors open, but nothing happened. No one called out; no one came to check. I eased through the crack, letting it swing closed behind me. On the other side of the door were more rooms.

The screams hit me immediately, and my heart rate kicked up. I wanted to growl, but there was no wolf in me, so it came out a choked, human sound.

Cade slipped through behind me, and we crept up to the first doorway, closed curtains blocking it off from view. Cautiously, I brushed one of the curtains until it cracked open just enough that Cade and I could see what was happening inside. Three mages stood around someone strapped to a bed. I didn’t recognize any of them, and my mind couldn’t comprehend what they were doing.

The man on the bed writhed, whimpering and crying out, twisting back and forth.

“Hold him down,” one of the mages standing above him snapped. The other two pressed on his shoulders, and the mage reached up toward the ceiling, tugging his hand like he was pulling on a long rope. Lines of tattoo fell onto the man’s chest, and he shrieked.

The mages stepped back, frowning at each other.

“Do you think it took?”

“It had better. I don’t want to be here all night.”

“His heart rate is decreasing.” One of the mages was examining a silent wall of monitors. When the numbers dropped below one hundred beats per minute, all three mages relaxed.

“White? White, can you hear me?” The mage who seemed to be in charge leaned over, hovering over the man’s face.

“Yeah. I’m good. Did it take?” The man on the bed blinked, coming back to himself slowly.

“Looking good,” the mage at the monitors said.

“We’ll give it a few minutes.” The lead mage smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

Beside me, Cade trembled. Slowly, I let the curtain drop back closed. I pulled us both backward, slipping silently through the swinging doors again, completely out of sight of the doorway. Cade was pale, his pupils blown open wide, his mouth hanging open.

“Cade?” The word was more breath than sound, and I was reminded of how often in House Bartlett, I would have to remind Cade to come back to himself.

I reached out, pressing my hand against the crook of his neck, pinching slightly. Cade shook violently, his eyes finding mine. Horror made his mouth work silently before he swallowed.

“They’re doing it on purpose,” Cade whispered.

I immediately knew what he was talking about. When Cade had absorbed his parents’ magic, it had been by accident. It had nearly destroyed him to have that much magic inside of him. But these people were doing it on purpose. By some unknown means, they were absorbing the magic from the people trapped in cells down here.

“So the people trapped here are members of their own house who have succumbed. And they’re siphoning the magic into the mages in the next room? The initiates?” I looked around, the cells full of members whose metaphorical mice had drowned. The people in the next room screaming in agony. “Why do all this?”

But I knew better than most why they were doing this. Power. The same reason Leon had destroyed two families.

“I want to know what’s going on with the rest of the initiates,” I said quietly. “They aren’t all down here getting more magic. So why do they get locked in at night?”

Cade nodded, and we both went back up the stairs. No one was there; no one was waiting to capture us.

Frowning, I wondered if it even mattered if we were quiet. I had a feeling we weresupposedto see this. They wanted us to know what was going on.

I could picture Phelan in the center of his web of spells, listening to us blindly stumble around like mice in an unfamiliar maze. But why now?

We opened the front door as quietly as possible, sneaking out into the darkness, Cade’s tattoos wrapped around us, turning us into nothing more than shadows. The dorms were on the far side of the enormous lawn, and if we tripped any alarms, no one came running. As we approached, I urged Cade low, and we snuck in under the windows. When I lifted my head to look inside, I saw faint lines of magic running over them.

Who needed bars on the windows when you could use spellwork to do the same thing?

Inside, it was darkness, no hint of movement, no way to see if everyone was asleep in their bed or something more nefarious was going on. I shook my head sharply, and Cade peeked over the ledge himself. When he came back to eye level, he lifted a shoulder in a shrug. No, he couldn’t see anything either.

We crept around the building, and I expected to have to break the lock, but the door was wide open. Cautiously, we crept inside. The building was three stories, a large rectangle with bunks on both sides.

Up close, it looked more like a prison than housing. The bunk beds were made neatly, pillow at the top, sheets pulled tight, hospital corners. At the bottom of each set of beds was a single trunk.