Page 209 of A Winding Wave of Magic
Those green eyes met mine, and again, his hand squeezed mine.This is where I belong.
We approached yet another set of double doors that looked as though they were made of stone. In her irritatingly melodic voice, Celine sang a spell in what I thought might be Basque.
Correct, Jonathan informed me. The access code and language changed monthly, making it nearly impossible to break in.
The doors opened into an octagonal room which, by my guess, had to be somewhere near the base of the mountain, for it even had windows through which a bit of light peeked through long velvet drapes. It was the sole bit of brightness inan otherwise cheerless space, with walls hewn from more granite and limestone.
Six fae sat behind a truly enormous stone table. Most appeared only a few years older than me with the exception of a man and a woman who both looked closer to their sixties. The entire room, however, practically heaved with power far beyond the ages written on their faces. Knowledge and experience lay in their expressions, the kind I remembered in Gran’s eyes. Wisdom has too many colors to count. I remembered wondering how her eyes could seem to hold every shade in the universe and then some. And if I’d ever have eyes like that one day too.
Agreement flitted through Jonathan’s touch. He was remembering too.
Two other chairs sat empty. One belonged to Penny, of course, and the other to Caleb Lynch. A breath I hadn’t known I was holding stole from my chest. I didn’t have to face my grandmother’s killer today.
He was still at large, of course. But perhaps these people would know what to do. His peers, if not his betters.
I could only hope.
“Cassandra Whelan?” An Asian sorcerer in saffron-colored robes striped with red rose from his seat at the center of the table.
I stopped in front of them, uncertain whether or not I should bow or curtsy.
A chuckle fluttered through my mind.Neither. This isn’t the King of England. They are no better than you.
“That’s me. I was summoned here by an agent of the Council,” I said. “Despite the short notice, we came.”
The sorcerer nodded and continued speaking in English which was only slightly accented. “Welcome. I am Se Tashi, Chancellor Mage.”
It’s sort of like their Speaker of the House,Jonathan informed me.They rotate through the Council positions every twenty-four years.
Except for Penny,I thought back.
She did her term before she left.
Too busy to answer, I nodded at the chancellor, waiting for him to continue.
“Robert.” He nodded to Robbie, who offered an awkward half-bow.
“I’m here to offer whatever assistance I can to Ms. Whelan,” he told them. “And to vouch for her character and her lineage.”
“Given that our purpose here today is to verify that she is, in fact, Cassandra Whelan, the only known kin of Penelope O’Brien and heir to the eighth seat on the Council of the Magi, that is most helpful,” Tashi told him. “However, that is all we can accept. Ms. Whelan must speak for herself.”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” Jonathan spoke up. He stepped forward but kept our hands locked.
Every pair of eyes across that table fell to the link. The chancellor’s lit up like beacons, while two Council members raised palms toward us, and the others’ noses lifted into the air as if they couldsmellthe nature of our relationship.
And perhaps they could. Everyone else seemed to know immediately what Jonathan had foolishly insisted he could hide.
There really was no point in pretending. Maybe not even with myself.
Only one did nothing, but he stared at me just the same, the pressure I felt on my mind’s barrier told me he was a seer.
Don’t worry,Jonathan thought.I’ll keep him out.
“Prior to her death, Penelope O’Brien contacted me,” Jonathan said. “Through a banshee, she learned that her death was imminent, and she wanted to ensure that her last wishes were honored.”
Surprise rippled through me as he glazed over the fact of my mother’s part in all of this.
They don’t knowabout her, he assured me.And I won’t tell them either,but we have to give them something.
