Page 101 of Magic Forsaken

“I should have thought that would be obvious.”

A man stepped out of the shadows, into the dim glow of the lights near the water.

Average height, unremarkable build. White and middle-aged, with brown hair, kind eyes, and an immediately forgettable face.

Except I hadn’t forgotten. I would never forget.

“Blake?”

“So you do remember me.”

I did. I remembered all of them. Every human who’d shared that underground prison with us. Every human who’d suffered at Elayara’s hands.

I’d thought they must have either escaped or died when the facility was raided. I certainly never expected to find any of them here, in Oklahoma City.

Especially not Blake. He was one of the failed experiments. Too old, in the objective, scientific opinion of our captors. The magic wouldn’t stick, so he’d been reduced to testing the magic-imbued objects. He’d been the first of the human captives to figure out how to use them.

And he was here to stop the Symposium.

“You still haven’t said why you’ve contacted me.”

He took another step forward. “If you know the truth, then you know what we have to do. What has to happen in order for those like us to survive.”

That might be true for me, but not for him. He could just walk away, with nothing to show for those ugly years except memories, and those weren’t going to get him killed.

Except…

He clearly hadn’t walked away. So why not?

What could have brought him all the way to Oklahoma City for the purpose of interfering with Idrian legislation?

“Why does this matter so much to you?”

“Why does it matter?” he echoed, almost incredulously. “How can you ask that? When you know what was done to us? When you know what all of us suffered? I might not have paid as high a price as others, but I was there. I heard the same screams. I witnessed the same atrocities. Is it so surprising that I would choose to spend my life protecting those who shared those experiences with me?”

Not surprising at all. It was the reason I got up in the morning. The reason I’d fought through the aftermath of our escape and chose to keep fighting—every day, no matter the odds.

“I get it,” I told him. “And I’m grateful that you’re still out there, fighting for everyone we lost. But I don’t know what you think I can do here. The damage is done. The agreement has been made. And they believe they’re acting in good faith—to protect the innocent and prevent this from happening again.”

“It isn’t too late,” Blake pointed out. “The laws have not been signed, and until they are, no one is bound by them. There is still time.”

“Time for what?” I argued.

“Time to stop them.”

“How?” I didn’t even like to think about the obvious answers. The ones his people had already demonstrated they were capable of.

He shrugged. “That part is up to you. You are the only one on the inside. The only one who can protect the rest of us without this ending in bloodshed.”

My heart cried out that bloodshed wasn’t the only option. We could always just run. We knew how to survive on the road. We’d done it for six months, and we could do it again.

But up until now, I hadn’t considered how many others might have escaped.

The rest of us…

“How many, Blake? How many escaped with you?” And did he know about those who’d escaped with me?

He looked me dead in the eye. “Isn’t just one enough?”

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