Page 46

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Within the circle of Jaylie’s spell, the truth is brought to light.

Loren is the first to speak. “Here is the story as we know it thus far…”

What follows is a tale that Jaylie can’t help but be enraptured by—even though she was present for nearly every second.

Shira smirks as Loren describes her rescue of Alora as dashing and dangerous, though she scowls to hear Donati’s retelling of their time together at the Academy.

She starts to interrupt, but Loren holds up a finger and assures her, “Your turn is next.” He continues, weaving a tapestry of the quest that Donati and then Alastair sent them on, and of the party’s epic battles against roadside bandits, spiders, and, finally, the beholder.

There’s real emotion in his voice as he recounts Jaylie’s death.

Is he simply a good actor, she muses, or did he really miss me that much?

She notes how purposefully vague he is about the details of her resurrection, rushing to summarize the rest of the tale until he arrives at the current moment.

“And that, my friends,” he says with a sweeping bow, “is where we find ourselves today.”

Shira nods thoughtfully as Alora gazes at Jaylie with wide eyes. “Gods, I didn’t know you died, ” she says with a gasp.

“Just for a moment, I’m told,” Jaylie says. She thinks back to Marlana’s face, the warmth in her smile. She hadn’t told anyone of her meeting with her Lady. The memory feels so holy, maybe she never will.

Shira looks off into the distance, smiling wryly to herself.

“Alastair was an apprentice of mine, once. He left when he decided he’d prefer to hoard his secrets and conduct his studies independently,” she says.

“Obviously that hasn’t worked out well for him, since he’s clearly coveted my spellbook this whole time.

It doesn’t surprise me he’s helped you all along, hoping to get back at me for his minor punishment. ”

Jaylie thinks that being turned into a frog is a great deal more than a minor punishment, but then again, she’s not a wizard. “We did promise him his spellbook back if we, ah—defeated you.”

Shira waves a hand, unconcerned. “I hardly care. Maybe I’ll give it back to him, if he asks nicely.”

Loren extends his arms in a wide arc, encompassing the circle of the spell. “Whenever you’re ready, my lady,” he says to Shira, “the floor is yours.”

Shira’s confidence seems to dim as everyone’s attention turns to her.

Gently, Alora draws Shira’s arm over her shoulders and supports her with a hand on her back.

Alora’s a good head and a half shorter than Shira, but it’s a sweet gesture nonetheless.

“I’ve got a good feeling about them, love,” Alora says. “It’s all right.”

Shira reaches up to brush some of her long hair out of her face; the sunlight catches on a few strands of gray. Her undercut is growing out in uneven patches and needs a fresh shave, and her eyes are ringed in dark circles.

Eventually, Shira sighs, dark violet eyes trained on the ground. “You should know that Donati was telling the truth—in some cases. In school, I did practice dark magic. I still do.” She lifts her gaze and casts it around the circle. “But it was Aurelio who introduced me to it.

“He was the one who would knock on my door with an armful of tomes he’d ‘borrowed’ from the forbidden sections of the library, or bartered for in the dark alleys of Belandar.

From the very beginning, it fascinated me.

I was as hungry for the secret knowledge as he was, and so long as we weren’t harming others, I was more than willing to immerse myself in our studies.

We were both very good at it, but he especially took to it like a duck to water.

Our divination spells kept me up late with nightmares.

When we cast a ritual spell to speak with one of the cadavers from our biology seminar, I heard the dead’s voice for days and days after.

One time, using a bit of Aurelio’s blood, we summoned a little imp from Hell itself.

It lashed out with its claws, and it took weeks for my gash to heal.

But Aurelio’s wound was no more than a scratch by morning.

“Over time, Aurelio became very interested in blood magic. In retrospect, that’s where I should have cut off our studies.

Talking to the dead and summoning portals is one thing, but using the life force of other creatures to fuel your magic?

” Shira shakes her head vehemently. “It was a line I wouldn’t cross.

But there was a scholar we had heard of, studying up in the Great North…

” Shira pauses and smiles a little. She slips her hand into Alora’s.

“I regret the part I played in furthering Aurelio’s experiments, but I don’t regret the decisions that led me to her. ”

“I don’t think he knew at the time that we were seeing each other,” Alora adds, her voice bright and amused. “He’s so dense when it comes to these things. I’m not even certain he knows it now.”

“We kept it a secret for a long time,” Shira agrees. “In the North, Alora’s family is…”

“Old-fashioned?” Alora tries.

“Famous.”

“Powerful!”

“…Traditional.”

The women go back and forth, then Alora snickers. “I was never destined for a love match,” she explains. “They always tried to stress to me how important it was to carry on the bloodline and whatnot. I always planned to run away one day, before that happened.”

Jaylie smiles to herself as a rush of admiration and kinship for the woman fills her chest, but her attention snags on the sorceress’s sudden scowl.

“Aurelio beat me to it,” Alora huffs.

“You’re skipping ahead in the story, darling,” Shira says, running her hand over Alora’s cap of red hair.

“Anyway. Around the time we started seeing each other, I’d ferry books back and forth between Alora’s personal library and the study Aurelio and I shared in Belandar’s Academy.

My professor, Lazlo, had taught me the trick of teleportation by that time.

And I had taught Aurelio.” Although Shira’s expression is hard enough to be carved from stone, Jaylie is close enough to watch her dark eyes grow wet.

“I wasn’t there when it happened—I was with Alora.

When I returned, Aurelio cornered me in our study, his eyes dilated and his face flushed with excitement.

He said he’d finally done it. His summoning spell had worked.

He showed me where he’d trapped the thing—this ugly devil with black spines—behind the shining bars of a magical cage.

“Immediately I started throwing open the closets, searching every room. I’d read the books. I’d seen the spells. To perform feats of magic this powerful…I knew the cost.”

Jaylie understands now why Alora pressed herself so close to Shira’s side.

For a moment, it looks like Shira might collapse, but Alora holds her up while the wizard presses her palm to her eyes.

“I found him in Aurelio’s office, in the summoning circle.

There wasn’t a drop of blood left in his body.

“Aurelio came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘He would have reported us immediately,’ he said. ‘We would have been expelled. I had no other choice.’ And he pointed to Professor Lazlo’s body and set him on fire. He let him burn until there was nothing left but ash.”

Shira straightens and wipes her eyes. “He beat me to the dean, weaving his story of Lazlo’s false disappearance, how his experiment might have gone wrong.

Desperate, I tried to tell them my story—the real story—but as soon as Aurelio realized we weren’t a team anymore, he turned against me.

And he was always one step ahead—it was like he’d planned for what he called ‘my betrayal’ all along.

He showed them my spellbooks, my studies, my notes.

My research into dark magic wasn’t at all on the level of what he was capable of, but it was enough to get me expelled.

It was enough that they didn’t trust my word when I tried to convince them that he was the real danger.

“For years I’ve been trying to prove that he is at fault.

Lazlo’s is not the only life he’s taken.

I’ve collected so many reports of missing people in Belandar.

The gardener at his estate, one of the students from his class, two maids from the Academy.

Dozens more. But when Lora was taken, I—” She swallows thickly.

“I know how it looked when I stole her from their wedding. I know what it does to my reputation. But I couldn’t let her stay with him, not when I know what he’s capable of. ”

There’s a ringing silence following Shira’s words. Kain has his arms crossed, a pensive look sketched into his hard features, while Loren writes down a few notes. Likely composing the next chapter to our story, Jaylie thinks.

But there are gaps in the tale.

“I still don’t understand your part in this, Alora,” Jaylie says gently. “Why did you agree to the wedding at all?”

“Oh! I didn’t. Of course I didn’t.” She points to Kain, his axe still held threateningly at his side.

“Hilariously, he was right about the whole enchantment thing. But it was Aurelio who enchanted me, not Shira. When he first made his proposal, my parents were delighted to accept. He had it all: power, prestige, political standing. And he arrived with so many gifts.” She grimaces at the memory, full lips pressed in a pout.

“I hated him, of course. Shira had told me everything by that point. But for appearances’ sake, before the proposal was finalized, I accepted his gifts.

And when my maid clasped the necklace around my neck—” She snaps her fingers.

“My mind was gone, locked under his charm. Honestly, I can’t recall anything that happened between that point and when Shira disenchanted it. ”