Page 197 of The Warlock's Trial

He couldn’t even bother to say my name—as if I was that unimportant. Ironic, since I was apparently central to his plans.

“That’s where you disappeared to during the baby shower,” I realized. “You weren’t upstairs organizing our presents! You ran off to tell the priestesses what you learned.”

“Yes, though I would’ve left sooner if I didn’t have to keep up god-awful appearances,” Magnus stated snidely. “I still can’t believe I had to attend one second of your stupid puzzle party.”

“What did the priestesses tell you to do?” I questioned.

“They told me to forget about the Oaken Wands… that a demigod child was more powerful than all the Oaken Wands combined. The priestesses intended to use you to cast a powerful spell, though they didn’t tell me what it was. The poison was meant to remain dormant inside of you, until that spell was cast. Then once you performed the spell, the poison would take effect, and you would die instantly.”

I scoffed. “Well, you screwed that up.”

“How was I to know there was ginger in the iced tea?” Magnus demanded. “It changed the chemical make-up of my potion and turned it into something else. The poison took effect immediately, though the altered properties weren’t enough to kill you.”

“So my ginger didn’t poison Nadine,” Grant realized, sounding relieved. “You did! My ginger actually prevented her from dying.”

“What about the sugar scrub you made me for Yule, or the tea we made for Talia?” I demanded. “Were those poisoned, too?”

“The tea we made was safe,” Magnus scoffed. “It was merely a way to gain your trust. The sugar scrub was my own recipe. Each time you used it, it collected data that was sent back to the priestesses, in order to monitor your vitals and track your pregnancy.”

Talia furrowed her brow. “But if you were working for the priestesses this whole time, why were they sending Executors to attack the safe house?”

“They didn’t come to attack you,” Magnus spat. “They came to exchange information. After you killed the first group of messengers, they sent groups of Executors to the next ridge to throw you off, to lure you into a false sense of security—as if your stupid plans would ever work. They knew you were watching them.”

“You’re the reason the Executors knew to come the night the babies were born,” I realized. “You told them I was in labor.”

“Of course,” Magnus sneered. “But I knew the babies wouldn’t be able to make it on their own if they were born that early. I told the priestesses to hold off, that we had to be strategic, but they didn’t listen. They came that night to take the children. After your friends killed off the Executors, I convinced them we had to wait until the time was right, and to give me more time to obtain the child that survived.”

“What are the priestesses planning now?” Lucas asked.

“A trap, of course,” Magnus said. “I was to take the child to lure you here.”

“For what?” I demanded. “That Executor outside said they needed me—a Curse Breaker. If they already have Marcus, what do they need me for? You were planning to kill me, anyway. Why bother keeping me alive now?”

Magnus curled his lips back. “They don’t tell me everything. I simply follow orders.”

“Well, we’re here,” Lucas said. “Where are the priestesses?”

Magnus let out a chilling laugh. “Oh, they’re here… waiting for the rest of you to die. Do us all a favor and cork off so we can finally get this over with?—”

A loud snap filled the room, and Magnus’s head cranked so far in one direction that it looked like it was on backward. His body slumped to the floor lifelessly.

Slowly, we all turned to Chloe. “What?” she asked innocently. “He told us everything we needed to know. I was sick of listening to him talk. Always hated him, to be honest.”

Lucas took one last look at Magnus, then turned away. “The priestesses must still be nearby with Marcus. Let’s go find them.”

Lucas hurried out the door and down the stairs.

“Wait, we need a plan—” Verla started as she followed behind him, but a distant sound gave her pause.

“Is that… someone screaming?” I stopped on the steps to listen again.

“Help!” a woman cried.

My stomach plummeted. I knew that voice far too well.

It was the real Mandy.

Chapter Twenty-Three

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