Page 46 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
Daemon’s jaw rolls. “Or they retreated.”
I tense, looking off into the distance. I remember what Daemon said about who sits on the throne.
“We should go,” he says, standing and helping me to my feet.
The moment between us is broken, and I can’t decide if I’m disappointed or relieved. I don’t know what it means that Daemon seems to be on my side, but it certainly doesn’t need to be more complicated than it already is. I’ve survived for this long in my life by making sure not to place my trust in anyone but myself, and I have no intention of amending that choice now.
Daemon seems to have a similar realization because he turns to me, his expression cold and neutral as if the last few days had never happened. “If Julian is back, and not in a war council, we need to tell him what happened.”
“So he can find whoever keeps trying to kill me?”
Daemon’s lips press into a thin line. “So he can decide what to do with you and your magic.”
Chapter Twenty
When we returnto the castle, we find that the Guardians have indeed returned. But the outcome is neither victory nor retreat.
For several hours, we can’t get a solid answer from anyone. Everyone seems to be milling about frantically, and Julian and Thornne and the other senior Guardians are all locked together in one of the war rooms. All we can gather from anyone is that something unexpected happened, and some kind of challenge was issued, and no one knows quite what to do.
After nightfall, with no updates, I finally decide to go to my room. Daemon follows me, but when we reach the door, he says, “I’ll wait outside and keep watch.”
His words are cool and unemotional.It’s better this way, I tell myself as I shut the door. I seem to have a new ally, but it’s best to keep firm boundaries. As he’d said, my magic changes things. Substantially. Julian had been looking for something andhe finally has his answer. I’d been so sure this whole time that he was wrong, that it was inconceivable for me to possess magic.
So sure, that I’d never stopped to actually think about what would happen ifIwas wrong.
And now that the truth has revealed itself, I can’t imagine the outcome is anything good.
After taking a sponge bath in my sink and changing into clean clothes, I fall into a fitful sleep on my bed, a very needy and affectionate Trix curled up around my neck. It’s sometime after midnight, judging by the moon in the sky, when there’s a pounding on my door, which is flung open only moments later.
Three Guardians are standing outside my room, which makes me infinitely glad that I’m wearing pants and a tunic as opposed to a nightgown.
“Commander Thornne needs to see you,” one of them says, a woman with short blonde hair.
“Commander Thornne?” My mouth goes dry with fear. “Is Professor Julian back yet?”
“Just come along.”
I shoot a panicked look past them to Daemon, whose expression is neutral, guarded. But as we begin to stride down the hall, he follows.
One of the Guardians turns and growls over his shoulder, “Did we request your presence, Shadow Walker?”
“I have vital information for the Commander,” Daemon says, his tone dispassionate but also unyielding. “It cannot wait.”
“The Commander will decide what can and cannot wait,” the Guardian responds.
“Well then, I’m happy to wait for his response outside the war room,” Daemon says, not looking the slightest bit perturbed as all three Guardians turn and glare at him.
No one says another word as we cross the length of the castle, down one floor, and to the war room, which is quite close tothe Commander’s office. My heart is pounding so loudly in my chest I feel like it matches the booted footsteps of the Guardians against the stone floor. What can the Commander want with me now? Is Professor Julian still at the border? Is this some attempt to take advantage of his absence and send me off to prison again?
And this time… given what I now know about my magic, and the fire that killed my family, I can’t help but wonder if I deserve it.
Daemon walks at my back, his presence felt, but unreadable. While it’s clear he’s withdrawn since we came back from the cabin, he hasn’t abandoned me entirely. I can’t get a read on him. Is he my ally or my enemy? It seems to change from one moment to the next. But regardless, I can’t help but feel a little better that he’s facing the Commander with me. It slightly lessens the terror swirling in my heart.
We reach the war room, or at least, what I assume is the war room based on the crisscrossed swords hanging across the threshold. Inside, there’s a huge roaring fire on the opposite side of the substantial room, smoke curling up to the vaulted wood-beamed ceiling overhead. An enormous table sits in the middle of the room. The right wall is covered in maps of Aureon, and the left wall is covered in runes that are carved directly into the stone. Some are painted red, others white, others black. I have no idea what they mean, but I can feel a pulse of power coming off them.
The Commander sits at one end of the table, flanked by the other senior Guardians, a half-dozen of them. They all look dirty and road weary. It’s clear they’ve been in this room since they arrived from the border. Thornne’s gaze locks on mine the moment I step into the room, burning with a manic intensity. My stomach twists into a leaden knot, my throat tightening with panic. This is more than just some plan to send me off to faeprison. Something is very, very wrong here. But what in the name of the goddess does it have to do with me?
The Guardians escorting me walk me to the far end of the table, where they pull out a rough-hewn wooden chair and shove me down into it. Everyone at the far end of the table looks at me, like a pack of hungry wolves who’ve scented blood. My body stiffens, other than my heart, which is still pulsing wildly in my chest. Daemon trails behind us, and when Commander Thornne’s gaze reaches him, his eyes widen in surprise.
