Page 123 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

“It is your seat, Tempest. No one else deserves to sit there. Do not place the choice in the hands of magus under the influence of demon magic, nor those who cling to what has been out of fear of change or attack.”

True anger tainted his last words, and I could’ve expected that the views of the likes of Serene and Sage who wanted a return of Caves would inspire strong frustration in him. “I don’t seek to rule as a demon king does, sir. Not even a Vissimo or Luther. The community here will have a voice, even in times of sickness and war. I will never take that from anyone who has the best interest of the coven as their motivation.”

“Then what will you do with Frond? His numbers have grown.”

I witnessed as much this morning. “Why is that, do you suppose? The coven seems more peaceful in general.”

Yet Frond had filled another table of supporters.

Varden tapped his ear. “You have more than one person with ears on the coven. Use them.”

Rooke. Sven. “My friends grow weary of bringing me only bad news.”

“Understandable. I feel the same way. A person should not have to keep taking this treatment just because they can weather it.”

“You’re in knots about the future of this coven, sir,” I said after a beat.

He shifted his blue eyes from mine. “My concerns have nothing to do with your leadership. My frustrations center around the coven not seeing the gift that has been bestowed upon them. I struggle not to act in bitterness, especially when I hear talk of Caves resuming in any way, shape, or form. Please tell me you will not allow that to happen.”

I countered with a smile. “You have no concerns over my leadership, right?”

A sigh left him before long. “I do not, you are right. And I understand that my role is to seal the divide in this coven however I can.” His voice lowered. “There is much to do.”

“You can only take so much upon yourself. Magus are responsible for their own actions when all is said and done.”

“Yes, but the old become very aware of the time they have to undo the damage they never saw until too late—the damage that they were part of dealing out. I will do all that I can.”

I preferred his determination to frustration, worry, and bitterness, even if I wished he was content to let things naturally unfold. Perhaps I shouldn’t deter my esteemed cheerleader from his work. Varden was well respected, and I couldn’t take everything upon myself. “I’m glad for your help. Please don’t exhaust yourself in the process.”

He didn’t seem as exhausted as when he’d first moved to new quarters, but there was a heavy hang to his shoulders. Then again, he was in turmoil. My own shoulders had hung that way since my quipu burned.

“Have you seen Serene again?” I asked.

“Yes, I see her regularly for treatment and to change the dressings on my wounds.”

“And how?—”

Knock, knock.

Something I was realizing about leadership? There was far more knocking. That knocking usually preempted the words High Esteemed, could I have a moment?

Spyne stood in the doorway. “High Esteemed, could I have a moment?”

Ha! Some things could still entertain me.

I glanced at Varden, who was already rising. “I’ll see you at the meeting this afternoon.”

“Of course,” he replied, then bowed slightly. “High Esteemed, an honor as always.”

My smile was real, and that felt like a win in itself. “The honor is mine.”

Spyne lingered in the doorway, and I gestured him to a seat.

He walked across the room, and I noticed the parchment clutched in his grip. Once he’d sat, I waved a hand to close the door. His eyes widened.

“I’m not going to eat you, Spyne,” I told him. “I only eat small children.”

Spyne was a pale guy. He somehow lost more blood from his face.

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