Page 90 of Junk Magic

“Yes, because everything is about the Corps,” Ulmer cut in grimly. “They view the world with blinkers on; I thought you had more sense!”

I looked at him in confusion. Not because of the sentiment, which was common among Weres, but because he was acting more like Sebastian’s advisor than his bodyguard. Or in some position of authority, at least, because he shouldn’t have been in here otherwise.

He should be outside, guarding the damned door.

“I’ve recently appointed Ulmer as my Third,” Sebastian said, before I could ask.

“Quite a promotion,” I said, eyeing the big man.

He eyed me right back, a half-amused twist to his lips. Because the last person to hold that office had tried to kill Sebastian and usurp his position, and he knew I was thinking about it. But his response was mild, maybe because he already had enough problems.

“I’ll earn it, seems like. If a pissant bunch of bastards like Windward dared to drug a member of Arnou, then they had a backer, and a powerful one.”

Sebastian scowled at both of us. “Whoever they were working with saw their lack of judgement as a liability, and removed them. And did it here, to use their deaths to make me look weak. And with the council on the way, they’re doing a damned good job!”

Ulmer leaned over, rested his giant arms on his equally large thighs, and sighed. Because yeah. This was bad.

And his next words confirmed it. “There’s sure to be a challenge now.”

“As if it wasn’t sure before!”

“You’re being challenged?” I asked Sebastian, because that was the first I’d heard of it.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, which was just as much of a tell as cracking the desk had been. He didn’t do that sort of thing. He couldn’t afford to.

If a clan leader was the rock for his or her people, then a bardric was the whole damned beach. He was the shoreline that the waves of fortune broke against, but who never faltered, never even looked like he noticed. Only here, among family, he could afford to let a little of the inner turmoil show.

I supposed that I should have been honored that he trusted me that much, especially after my recent failure. I wasn’t. Instead, a little of his anxiety passed over, and I felt my own body tense uncomfortably.

This is why people like heroes, I thought, remembering the identical shining eyes of the father and son. They wanted to believe, wanted someone who could make this crazy world make sense, and let them feel safe. It was the same way people looked at war mages, when they weren’t busy cussing us out.

But then, that’s why they cussed us out, because they knew we’d handle it, knew we’d take all their negative emotions, their fear, their panic, and make it all right again. We were the bulwark that the magical community depended on and we never broke, either. It was only from the inside that you began to realize just how fragile that protection really was.

Sebastian looked at me, and our eyes met.

“Not yet. But there are rumors that Whirlwind is tired of the human alliance, tired of the war, and tired of Arnou being considered the leading clan. He may challenge at the start of Conclave. All he needed was cause.”

“And now he has it,” Ulmer said heavily.

“But Whirlwind is my father’s age,” I said, frowning. “Maybe even a few years older. Not on his deathbed, but in a contest with you? He’d be lucky to last five minutes!”

“It’s not that simple,” Ulmer told me.

“It is exactly that simple! If he’s challenging for bardric, he can’t appoint a champion. He has to fight himself—”

“Or assassinate me first, before the Conclave begins,” Sebastian said evenly.

I stared at him, then glanced at Ulmer. And suddenly understood why the clan had thought they needed him. Random disgruntled types were one thing, although anyone can get lucky.

But someone with the resources of Clan Rand?

I felt a shiver go down my spine.

“But he hasn’t had much luck,” Ulmer said, “and Conclave is almost here. So maybe he upped the ante.”

“How?” Sebastian demanded. “They’ve already tried a car bomb, an ambush, and half a dozen snipers—”

“Half a dozen?” I broke in. “I thought there’d been three attempts, and what car bomb?”

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