Instead, we took seats at the table and extended the same courtesy of first names to Helena and the other reis.
“That will be all, Coraline. I’ll make sure they have an escort when we’re through.”
“Yes, High Rei.” Cora squeezed my bicep before shooting a not-so-covert look Rei Vosen’s way, then retreating back the way she came.
As soon as we sat, servers rushed to fill our plates with meats, pastries, and tropical fruit. They piled extra meat on Twig’s plate until it looked like a pyramid.
I could get used to this. Twig tossed another bite into his mouth.
Bill cooks for you all the time, I reminded him.
Yeah, but he’s vegetarian. Dragons need meat.
I did my best to keep a neutral expression since I doubted that anyone knew the extent of our ability to converse through our link. Witches shared a link with their familiars and could send commands. As far as I knew, familiars could send rough images of their thoughts back, though nothing like what Twig and I shared.
We continued to eat in silence until we’d cleared a significant portion of our plates.
“I understand you and Coraline were school friends,” High Rei Hallewell said at last, taking a nibble from a succulent piece of kamelo fruit, before offering it to her sleepy rabbit.
“Yes. We met in first year.”
“Coraline’s an invaluable aide. She’s a quick study and committed to legislation that helps the common person.” Helena laughed, a surprisingly sweet sound. “It’s like having a lobbyist in my household. It won’t surprise me if she ends up on the Council at some point.”
One of the other reis tittered.
Helena tutted. “Adisa, you need to let go of your class prejudices. It’s the dawning of a new era. The first wizard in a thousand years. Why not a witch from a modest family sitting on the Council?”
I wouldn’t call Cora’s family modest. Rural landowners, sure. Landowners, who owned huge tracts of land on Carleding Cay, a neighboring island to the west, and produced the best lava java in the Hominus. They earned more money than several witches on the Council combined. They just didn’t have the ancient pedigree, unofficially a requirement for being on the Council.
“Tradition states—”
The High Rei waved the other witch to silence. “Tradition is a thing of the past. Perhaps it’s time we think toward the future.”
Her eyes gleamed, and I sensed the iron will that propelled her into the High Rei’s seat. She fixed that gaze on me. “Which brings us to our current conversation.”
I set my fork down, all ears. “And that would be?”
“Originally, I hoped you would be eager to return to your home realm. I see that convincing you to stay will be more challenging than I anticipated. It seems you have made a life for yourself in the Elder. Most unheard of for a human.”
“A free one, at any rate, yes.” I couldn’t help the dig. I kept my tone mild since Helena had not been High Rei, nor even a Council member at that time.
Seats for the Council of Divine Magic only opened when a member died, stepped down, or was removed for treason. To not only gain a seat but take the title in such a short time was almost unheard of. Then again, so was a man possessing magic. As she said: the beginning of a new era. A long time in coming, if you asked me.
“I suspect that there is much about you that is unusual, Quinn.”
I’d been in the Elder too long to be flattered by her praise. Words were cheap. I inclined my head though I couldn’t resist adding, “Yes, well, getting sold into slavery gives one an unusual perspective.”
While I almost felt the flinch that traveled around the table, Helena didn’t so much as twitch.
“I like that you don’t hold back. It’s refreshing and exactly what the Council needs to hear.”
“Which brings us to the point of your kind invitation, correct?” I did my best to school my features into a semblance of polite interest when I really wanted to snap, ‘Get on with it.’ Twig snickered in my head, which didn’t help.
“I’d like you to fill a provisional twelfth seat on the Council.”
Huh. Color me surprised. Especially since it didn’t gel with the initial greeting we’d received. Or perhaps it did? She did say provisional.
“Provisional? As in non-voting, non-permanent?” I reached for my recently refilled cup of lava java and took a sip like I didn’t have a care in the world.
“Yes, an unfortunate necessity. At least at first.” She leaned forward, resting her palms on the table. “It isn’t entirely a popular stance among some members, and I’d need them to see that you would be a valuable addition.”
I glanced at the other four witches. They all held various expressions of agreement. Her allies on this issue, then. So, this was basically a job interview.
One I didn’t want, and yet something in her gaze gave me pause. By adding me to the Council, she’d break with centuries of tradition. Why? Surely her motivations didn’t come from altruism. To reach the High Rei position, she must be ruthless. I suspected Auric would enjoy meeting her.
Twig’s hand rested on the back of my chair, his fingers brushing my nape.
“What’s in it for us?” Twig’s tone remained respectful, but just barely. So much for subtle negotiation.
A rei gasped. It had probably never occurred to her I’d consider turning down their offer.
In for a dypari, in for a hoard. I shot Twig a fond glance before saying, “My mate makes a valid point. Even if I put aside the memories of my treatment associated with this realm, I don’t only have my life to consider. Twig is a CCM and has important ties in the Elder. As do I. One day, I fully expect to see him on the Elder High Council. While I’m incredibly flattered at this generous offer” —I wasn’t— “I fail to see how I can accept.”
My lips turned up in a hint of a smile. I’d seen Auric Starfig make this expression on many occasions. It indicated, ‘Convince me.’ I might have to send him two fruit baskets when all was said and done.
While the other four reis looked shocked, Helena returned my gaze with an intensity that would have made me shiver in my boots a few years ago. She understood me perfectly. Or thought she did.
“I like that you’re a man who considers his options.” She gave me a toothy grin. While Twig didn’t growl aloud, I heard his grumbles in my head. He hated politics and recognized her for what she was. A predator. “I would delight in the opportunity to convince you that the Hominus would be a very welcoming place for you and your mate.”
I nodded at her easy acceptance of Twig’s position in my life. Without even my thoughts expressing it, Twig leaned in and clasped my hand in a show of solidarity.
“Why would we give up our status in the Elder? We have everything we need there.” To emphasize his point, Twig brought my knuckles to his lips.
“Why should Quinn or you give up your status here?” Hallewell shot back. “Quinn wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from this arrangement, I can assure you. All I ask is a few days of your time to hear me out.”
I groaned internally. I wanted to refuse her outright. Caution held me back.
“We look forward to these negotiations, Helena,” I said, lying through my teeth.
I didn’t want what Helena offered, even if she managed to sweeten it. Even though she didn’t have a hand in my sale, just being in the Hominus felt like wearing a too-tight and scratchy tunic. I already longed to return home.
Besides, she had yet to answer why she wanted to change tradition. From what little Cora said, Helena Hallewell promoted a progressive agenda. Yet no High Rei worth her salt would add another seat on the Council without a firm and devious plan in place.
Twig and I both knew how tenuous power balances could be. Adding me to the Council would create a scramble for power—to gain it or keep it. I didn’t believe for a second she’d ask me if she didn’t intend to strengthen her own position. Nature of the beast.
“Excuse me, Helena,” Rei Vosen, chimed in. “Wh
ile you negotiate the details of Quinn’s relocation, I’d like to begin the testing.”
“Testing?” Both Twig’s and my attention switched to Vosen.
“Yes, of course.” She bobbed her head like a wind-up toy, her plump face lighting up. “You must realize that you hold the key to returning men’s magic. Don’t you see?”
I didn’t. Before I could answer, she rushed on.
“Now we can study how wizards’ magic differs from witches’ magic. We know there’s a difference, but by understanding those differences, surely we’ll figure out why men’s magic disappeared a millennia ago. Perhaps in time, even reverse it.” She looked so excited at the prospect.
Wow. I hadn’t even considered that. Was it even possible? No one knew why men didn’t have magic now. It just sort of happened. Or that’s the way I’d learned it in school. Hard to imagine gleaning any insight from a sample of one. . . yet what if they could?
“Rei Vosen, I—”
“Simone, please. We’re all friends here.” She leaned toward me and her short fuchsia curls bounced in a jaunty display, even as her cat clung on for dear life.
Friends? In politics?? Sure, like Twig’s dad was my friend. What did she hope to gain?
“Okay, Simone, I’m uncomfortable with the idea of having my magic poked and prodded. I don’t live in this realm anymore, so I see no reason to do so. Nor do I feel any obligation to the Council.” The same couldn’t be said about mankind. I just didn’t want the reis to see that and exploit it. Twig squeezed my hand, knowingly.
Rei Vosen’s forehead crinkled like she couldn’t conceive of my answer. “This would help men! Think on it. Wizards back in the realm. You must want—”
“Enough, Simone.” Hallewell didn’t raise her voice, but it carried the sure knowledge that she’d be obeyed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. He doesn’t know our intent, and trust takes time to build. He has less reason than most to do so. You’ll have to be patient. Besides, you have the basic tests from his age of majority. Surely, that’s a place to start.”
“High Rei, those can’t be right. He tested on the low side of magic. Yet, with a dragon familiar he must be strong—”
Helena held up a hand. “I said enough, Simone. Quinn is under no obligation to submit to testing unless he so desires it.”
“I don’t desire it.” Firm. Nothing in my voice betrayed my indecision.
Hallewell turned back to me. “We have much to talk about, Quinn. I would be honored if you and Twig would discuss the idea of relocation over the next few days, and then we can negotiate and talk more specifics once you’ve settled in a bit. I’m very tenacious, as I think you’ll find.”
She paused, seemed to consider her words. “I know you have many reasons to be angry. I don’t want to trivialize your experiences. However, you are now in a position where you can be a force of change. Wouldn’t you like to have a hand in making sure that certain injustices and traditions disappear? Together we can do great things.”
8
She’s good, I’ll give her that, Twig groused in my head.
Agreed. We strolled arm-in-arm back toward our suite. Pie still perched on Twig’s shoulder, appearing to be asleep. Big faker. I’d be interested to get his thoughts on all this once we returned to the privacy of our rooms. I’d bet a month worth of dyparis he’d listened to all of it.
She’s not as devious as my dad, Twig pointed out.
Is anyone that devious?
Twig snickered, causing the aide leading us back to the suite to turn around and shoot us an inquiring glance.
Weird that Hallewell didn’t insist they test my magic, I thought.
Meh, she’s biding her time. Good rei-bad rei. My father occasionally uses that tactic.
He’s always bad rei, right?
He does have a reputation to uphold.
We kept moving, pretending to marvel at the hideous Goddess statues in various alcoves. As we approached the citadel’s common areas, all witches in the vicinity avidly watched us. Creeped me out.
Most stopped in their tracks upon seeing us. Several unfamiliar witches waved and made as if to approach before halting their advance. One even blew me a kiss and gave me a brilliant smile. I made the mistake of tentatively smiling back and was promptly eye-fucked within an inch of my life. What in the hellhound’s hind leg was wrong with these witches? Had they been bespelled?
“Quinn!” a breathy feminine voice called out from behind us. I recognized that voice . . .
“Wren? Wren Cross, is that you?” I spun around to get a better look. Twig paused beside me, his curiosity and caution vibrating through our link.
“I knew you’d remember me!” Wren didn’t so much walk as slink to my side. Long black hair, dusky skin, and curves that went on for days, Wren Cross had starred in most of my teenaged fantasies at Befsarry Academy.
And over three years hadn’t done a thing to diminish her beauty. Jealous witches-in-training used to snipe that a siren resided somewhere in her heritage. Looking at her now, I didn’t doubt it.
She ran a hand down my sleeve as she leaned in so I could kiss her cheek. Four years ago, I would have slayed a dragon to get the opportunity for my lips to touch her glowing skin. Now, I’d mated the dragon, so the thrill of achieving my teenage ambition didn’t hold the same weight.
As my lips met her cheek, she turned so that our lips pressed, and her hand dug into my sleeve to hold me in place. She even deployed a hint of tongue.
I leaned back so quickly it’s a miracle I didn’t do a backbend right in the corridor.
Twig growled. His arm wrapped around my waist, and he hefted me from my feet as he moved me away from Wren’s grasp. Which she finally relinquished just before my tunic tore.
Pie squawked, his wings beating wildly, but kept his place on Twig’s shoulder.
Wren peeked up at Twig from underneath fluttering lashes, seeming more annoyed than afraid. Perhaps in my hormone-fueled fog, I overlooked the fact that she lacked all survival instincts. Who would purposely challenge a dragon over his mate?
“Quinn, things were just getting good. Call your pet off.” She flashed a pouty lip that, as a teen, would have melted my heart and heated my groin. Now it pissed me off. What had I ever seen in her?
I not-so-subtly wiped my mouth with my sleeve before saying, “Twig’s my mate, not a pet, and why in hydra’s hellfire would you think your advances are welcome?”
She had the nerve to look taken aback. “You’ve had a crush on me forever. I thought we could be together. When I heard you planned to come home, I-I waited for you.”
“Why? You were never interested in me.” What in the lower realms was this nonsense?
She snickered, her shoulders relaxing. “Of course not, silly. You hadn’t passed your wizarding tests. I couldn’t start a relationship knowing you could turn out to be a nobody.”
I’m pretty sure Twig and I wore identical dumbstruck expressions.
“Sink me like a stone,” Pie piped up from Twig’s shoulder. “This bit of gutter just bilged on her own anchor ’n doesn’t even know it.”
“Is that like being hung from her own rope?” I asked, shaking off my surprise.
“Right ye are, Mister Quinn. And a bilge-sucking wench she is, too, but ye figured that out yerself.” Pie clacked his beak a few times in a way that meant laughter, before squinting at Wren with his one good eye. “Ye be lucky Mister Quinn be a gentleman or ye’d feel the rope’s end of the cat’o-nine-tails. It be what ye deserve, treatin’ him like he be some strumpet ripe for the coin.”
“Quinn, are you going to let that, that, thing . . . talk to me like that?”
“It’s better than you deserve.” I shook my head. “Come on, Twig, Pie. Let’s go.”
“Quinn, wait!”
I ignored Wren’s indignant shout. Wow, the Hominus was turning out to be eye-opening in so many unexpected ways.
“Did you see how many women tried to flirt with you?” Twig slammed the
door behind us after stomping into our suite. “It’s like I wasn’t even there.”
Pie, sensing the tone, fluttered from Twig’s shoulder, then disappeared through a wall, giving us much needed privacy.
Twig wasn’t wrong. After we’d left Wren behind, whatever held the witches in check vanished. They streamed toward us with only Twig, a squawking parrot, and the hapless aide between me and some very eager witches. They’d called my name, grabbed at my clothes, and sought to introduce themselves, shoving at each other and cursing. When one tried to hex the others, Twig gave an ear-splitting roar and let his fangs and claws drop in a protective display. They’d scurried away like rats leaving a sinking ship. We’d then made our way directly to the suite, all but running.
“Jealous?” I joked, trying to slow my racing heart and lighten his anger. I didn’t know what to make of it. Did everyone suddenly go stark raving mad?
Twig didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, he yanked me against him and crushed his lips to mine. Unlike Wren’s clumsy kiss, this felt just right. I kissed back, craving his taste and texture on my tongue.
Our kiss gentled as Twig’s desire and care washed away Wren’s unwanted touch. I loved that he so often knew exactly what I needed.
When he drew away, my lips followed for the barest second, then he clasped my face in his large palms. “You deserve more. I mistakenly assumed they would treat you better, but it’s like you’re a prize everyone covets.”
I licked my bottom lip, and his eyes automatically tracked the movement, even though his expression stayed tender and sweet. A prize. Yeah, I knew how that felt.
“Just like I represented to Brandsome.” I looked away, though he didn’t release my face.
“Hey, none of that. You’ll never have to worry about that unicorn again.”
“I know.” I still couldn’t meet his gaze. We rarely talked about Brandsome and even less about those first years in the Elder. In many ways, it’s as if my life didn’t truly start until I met Twig. I often wished that was the case.
“You’re humming.” He tilted my chin back, caressed my cheek with a gentle thumb.
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