Page 64 of The Spell Caster

Grey held up a hand. “You can leave the strategy to the security coordinator. I’m sure she knows what equipment you need.”

“They shot at us. A caster died. Your son was standing behind me.” Costi’s voice was grim.

Grey nodded. “And you did your job, for which we are all grateful, I’m sure.”

My vision whited out. What in Hell’s name were they telling him? To get injured, to die, because they didn’t want to think about a small change to the guardians’ uniform?

I felt myself stand up, my chair scraping the floor. “You can’t do this,” my voice said, sounding far away.

Grey raised his brows over wide eyes. “And what am I being accused of now?”

“None of you are listening. You’re not getting it. The angels knew our team was coming. They’ve figured out how to use weapons—that night and during the attack. They’re doing something—”

Grey gave me a patient smile. “I understand the attack on Northern Sea was traumatic for you, Layla,” he said. “You were worried for my son, and I appreciate that. I know he cares for you as well.”

I felt my face flush deeply with anger and shame. “You can’t… You’re using guardians as human shields—”

“There’s no need to worry,” Grey said soothingly. “The guardians’ job is to protect their spell casters. They’re well trained.”

“Is this matter somewhat settled?” Quince asked. “It seems like a personal argument at this point, so it might be more appropriate to discuss it elsewhere.”

The entire room looked at me—a traumatized, lovesick little girl who had no idea what guardians were for. Grey had set me up expertly. I flung myself back into my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, smoldering.

Quince sighed. “Now, with that out of the way, point of discussion number two. It looks like this meeting is going to run over today—”

“Point of discussion number two,” Councilor Grey interrupted with a mild smile, “is that the training arena is, unfortunately, closed indefinitely for emergency repairs.”

Quince cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Thank you, Councilor. Moving on. Point of discussion number three: housing for the Northern Sea refugees is progressing more slowly than anticipated…”

My mouth popped open in shock as Quince continued speaking, and Grey looked straight at me with eyes that made me go cold. He then moved his eyes slowly, deliberately, to Costi and then back to me. He raised an eyebrow, daring me to call him out.

I’d never been so livid in my life. I stormed out of the meeting hall in a flurry of red robes and let the door slam shut without looking behind me. Outside, I sucked cool air into my lungs, unable to see anything through my frustrated tears.

“I’m so done!” I yelled into the air, not caring who was around.

“Layla,” Calamus said, hurrying after me. “That was uncalled for.”

I whirled on him. “You agree with them keeping secrets from the rest of the Arcaenum.”

Costi prowled up behind Calamus with a scowl.

“Think, Layla. There are reasons we might not want everyone to be involved. You can’t just storm around like this.” Calamus crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “Blackthorn is a bad influence on you.”

“You should go, Calamus. Go back inside,” I said through gritted teeth. Costi moved close to me so our arms were touching.

Calamus narrowed his eyes at Costi. “There’s something else we need to address. Layla has an overly kind heart, and I cannot continue to stand by while you take advantage of her. Guardians are forbidden to form attachments to spell casters for a reason.”

“Calamus Grey,” I yelled, stepping forward to jab a finger into his crimson chest. “Don’t you dare.”

“He’s been looming over you all day—”

“Go on back to your meeting, Grey,” Costi said menacingly.

Calamus sneered at him, disgust marring his normally serene face. “Don’t bother coming to training tomorrow. I’ll ask Daire to reassign you immediately.” He turned and trod angrily back toward the entrance.

“Can’t say it’s been a pleasure working with you,” Costi called out as Calamus yanked the door open, then turned back to me. “He thinks I’m gonna take advantage of you, but he’s just going to leave you alone with me?” he muttered as he gently pulled me to a secluded spot behind the building. The woods pressed in, but a space had been cleared for some electrical equipment.

With his hand still clamped around my bicep, he bent his head over me while I waged an internal war between screaming in frustration and crying. Honestly, he was kind of looming.

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