Page 47 of The Rose in the Shadows

The boy trailed off, dissolving into tears and screaming at the pain of the Truthseeker burrowing into his head, but Mr. Pelland continued still, placing both hands on his shoulders and yelling the question again. I struggled to move, to scream, to doanythingto help the child whose small body dissolved into tremors, but Mr. Pelland’s magic forced me down. The weight of it only grew stronger as I struggled.

It took the boy falling off the chair, unconscious, for the Dragon to clear his throat and allow Mr. Pelland to finally stop. My breath came quick as I felt the tendrils of his power retreat. I stepped forward, furious, but Iris gripped my hand tightly and pulled me down.

“You can’t help him,” she whispered forcefully. “Interfering will only end up putting you in more danger.”

The Dragon shifted in his chair, leaning back and crossing his hands behind his head. His expression was tired and bored, but I could see the heat in his eyes. I could see the glimmering flecks of gold beginning to emerge. He was better at hiding his emotions than Clay, but I knew even he was shaken.

“Care to explain what just happened, Stephen?” He questioned.

Mr. Pelland shoved back away from the boy, losing his footing and falling flat on his bottom with wide eyes. He glanced wildly around the room.

“I- I’ve only ever read about it- I’ve never truly seen it…” he sputtered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

The Dragon cleared his throat expectantly once more, leaning forward in his pew. “I’m waiting!”

“Compulsion,” Mr. Pelland finally whispered after a few moments of silence. The room stilled. Mr. Pelland stood and nodded his head firmly. “He was compelled.”

Iris’ hand tightened on my own. The Council members shared concerned glances, and even the Dragon’s eyes widened ever so slightly. I don’t think I’d ever seen the Dragon thrown off. I met Clay’s gaze from across the room. His face was a hard mask, not sharing a minuscule amount of the thoughts in his head, but he didn’t look away from me.

“What does that mean?” I whispered to Iris.

Her grip on my hand was almost painful.

“There are different kinds of magic,” she explained. “Most of which involve manipulations. You manipulate things to move them. Faeries like me, Dragons, and Werewolves manipulate our bodies to transform into other beings. Sirens manipulate emotions or physiological states. Elementals manipulate water, fire, air, and earth.”

“And?” I pushed her on even as the Dragon’s booming voice declared the Council meeting was adjourned, and we were all to return to our suites immediately.

The Council members remained seated even as the room started emptying. Clearly, they planned to discuss things further in private. Their expressions were tight and stressed. Dimitri was by my side instantly, insisting we leave right away, but I stayed planted in my seat. I needed to hear what the Council was about to discuss. It was going to be important; I knew that.Something important was happening right now, even if I didn’t understand it.

Clay came to me, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stand. His grip was unbreakable.

“Witches get their power by manipulating energy,” Iris continued. “They can borrow energies from living things like plants or magical objects.”

“Iris,” Clay growled in warning, eyes fiery.

He maintained his grip on my forearm, pulling me out of the room with such speed that I nearly stumbled over my own feet. Still, Iris followed her voice, calling to me over my shoulder.

“She deserves to know!” Iris insisted.

“Know what?” I cried, struggling angrily against Clay’s hand. “Let go of me!”

As we emerged back into the palace hall, he released my arm and placed a hand on the small of my back, pushing me towards my rooms. Dimitri strode in front of us, eyes scanning the area protectively.

“Some kinds of spells or charms require more energy than a living thing can offer while retaining its own life," Clay explained, head dipping towards my ears and keeping his voice low. “We call this blood magic.”

“It’s sacrificial?”

He nodded. “It was outlawed years ago. Any Witch found guilty of it is subject to power stripping, a punishment worse than death. A blood transfusion is conducted with mortal blood until your connection to your ancestor is severed and your Descendant’s Mark fades. The effects are permanent.”

“Compulsion. It’s a spell that relies on blood magic?”

He nodded once more, jaw locked tight with tension.

“And if someone used compulsion to drop off the dresses…” I trailed off as my body froze against the sudden sensation of fear.

Clay’s golden eyes bore into mine as we walked. “Then they’re not just willing to kill you; they’re willing to riskeverythingto see you dead.”

I shivered involuntarily as a realization settled over me. If this person succeeded in their efforts, the empty rooms in my hallway would never again know joy or laughter. The family tree would never be filled with additional names.

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