It dawned on me: the concern, and the hospital-style room. "You think they did something that could be permanent? I can feel my magic."
"But you're not fully controlling it," he said, his eyes cutting to the damaged window with its thick crack feathering into smaller broken veins. "It's like you're not quite yourself."
"All the more reason to find them!" I protested as Gage walked to the door. I could barely see him past Evan, whose body was blocking me from the rest of the room. Gage's hands were stuck in his pockets, his head low, and he looked horribly uncomfortable.
Evan gave me a gentle push back onto the bed before standing back. He was dressed to go: black jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt with the cuffs pushed up to his elbows, and a thick, black jacket. "We will, but you stay here and rest."
I looked to my friend for support. Étoile knew I was more than capable, and that I could handle myself. Didn't my escape prove that? "Étoile?" I pleaded, knowing even as I did that it was useless.
"No."
"But..."
"No, it's not safe," said Étoile, moving to stand with Evan. "Until we know what they did to you, you're not going anywhere. It's for your own safety, Stella, so no arguments. I mean it. Evan and Gage will check out this place along with a team from the Council."
I sank back onto the pillow, the frustration hitting me like an avalanche. Despite my annoyance at not being able to help, I knew realistically that Étoile was right. Somehow, Georgia either restricted or actually stripped me of my magic, rendering me powerless. Learning that it lasted for two days until I awoke, though, was even more worrying.
It didn't take a genius to guess what worried Étoile: what, exactly, did Georgia do to me when I was unconscious after my capture? Was it something that would leave me vulnerable and unable to defend myself against her in the future? If that were the case, I would be unreliable, at the very least, in the field. Maybe even here in The Amethyst! If Georgia tampered with my magic, she could leave me a virtual prisoner. There was no way I could leave The Amethyst and feel safe, and no way I could stay there and jeopardise everyone else’s safety... and mine.
"You'll tell me when you get back?" I asked, conceding defeat. What else was I to do? Barge my way onto a mission with a powerful daemon and a werewolf, and try to get past the Council president? It was bound to happen without me no matter how much I protested.
"Of course," said Étoile, but I wasn't convinced. My hands were tied. There was nothing for me to do if they were suspicious about what happened to me. All I could do was be hyper aware of myself in case something were wrong, and hope nothing was. Patience, however, was never my strong point.
"Okay," I agreed because there was no other option.
"I'll be back soon," said Evan, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder. "Stay put and rest."
Gage simply nodded, barely turning, and the three of them left, leaving me to look around the sterile room.
I didn't know what I should do alone, so for a little while, I laid my head on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling, my thoughts still in a whirl. It seemed bizarre that magic could have knocked me out for so long, and deeply worrying that Georgia discovered some way to circumnavigate my internal defences. If she could catch me off guard so easily, could she do it anytime? To anyone? She had two months to master stealing my magic. Perhaps that was enough practise to aid her against anyone.
I sat up so suddenly, I almost lost my breath. Could the team Étoile sent be walking into a trap? The timing of my magic returning was coupled with the discovery of where I'd been held captive. It seemed too neat, too easy.
Pushing the bed covers back, I swung my legs out of bed, my feet landing on the cold floor. I needed to get to Étoile to warn her. The flimsy jersey rubbed my knees as I shuffled woodenly, my muscles aching, to the end of the bed. I wasn't going anywhere in this, I decided, hunting for my clothes. I found them folded in a small pile on the couch, and felt strangely reassured that they were the last clothes I recalled wearing. They'd been laundered recently, and there were some small repairs in the top that I didn't remember. I pulled the pyjama t-shirt off, tearing the monitor pads from my chest as I tugged the sweater over my head.
"Going somewhere?" asked a female voice.
"I have to get to Étoile," I said, without turning around as I zipped my jeans.
"I have orders to keep you here."
"Not going to happen," I replied, turning around, then stopping as I saw my old friend. "Seren? How long have you been here?"
"Since yesterday, and it’s fortunate that I came. What did you get yourself into? We've been so worried."
"The usual... kidnap... escape... possibly battling evil. I don't know." I leaned against the bed, breathing hard after the exertion.
"That old chestnut." Seren looked amused, but it quickly gave way to worry. "That doesn't mean I'm going to let you out of here. Étoile told me to watch over you. Can you imagine what it did to me when your heart monitor went dead?"
I glanced at the sticky pads I dropped onto the bed. "That's what those are for?"
"Yes! Stella, you had us so worried. Étoile told me you collapsed right after you got here; and then you didn't wake up for so long. We still don't know what happened to you!"
"Auberon..." I started.
"I know. I heard. They're dealing with it. You should return to bed."
"I can't. They're walking straight into a trap! Georgia. She did something to my magic. She could do the same to them."
"Étoile has taken precautions. Bed."
"But..."
"Bed, Stella. Now!"
"I'm dressed!"
"Good for you. I didn't want to dress you. Now, to bed and put these heart monitors back on." Seren grabbed the pads, stepping forward with a formidable expression on her face. She didn't want any arguments, and I knew in my weakened state, she could disable me without any problem, probably even shimmer me into bed. Grumpily, I sank onto the bed and allowed her to position the monitor pads.
Instead of leaving, Seren sat on the end of the bed. "Did I mention how you had us all really worried? We didn't know what the hell happened to you, or how to find you. Thank the moon and stars Evan managed to give us some information when you went missing. He came here minutes after that phone call you two had."
"He did?"
"Yeah, I don't think he slept much at all since. He was sending out every trace he knew, and so was Étoile, but for a while, it was like you stopped existing. I mean, completely. It didn't matter what any of us did; there was no evidence of you anywhere in the world."
"Evan said I had no magic. I was normal."
"You were worse than normal. You weren't there. Whatever Georgia did to you, didn't just block your magic, it was blocking you."
"But I didn't stop existing. I was somewhere. I'm still solid! Plus, Evan found me," I pointed out.
"It can't have been a physical thing. It must have been something metaphysical."
"I don't understand."
"I don't think you're meant to."
"So what do we do now? How do I stop that from happening to me again?"
"I could try healing you."
"I don't feel like I need healing. I feel okay. I can feel my magic and I know I don't have any wounds or injuries."
"Then I won't heal you. I'll just have a poke around..."
I had to give Seren my most sceptical look, but she ignored it. Instead, she indicated how I should lie flat while she placed her hands over me. Her searching felt like the gentlest wave going through me, and as relaxing as a massage; but a few minutes later, she shrugged and stopped. "There's nothing wrong with you," she said. "Actually, you're in great health. Maybe a little dehydrated, which is probably why your throat sounds sore, and you could definitely do with a good meal."
"Really? Nothing? No magic?"
"Nothing! I don't feel the presence of any magic, but yours. There're no blocks, or poisons, or auto-suggestions inside your mind. If I hadn't heard what happened
to you, if I didn't know Georgia did something to you, I wouldn't have believed you."
Another thought occurred to me. "Could I have had my magic bound briefly? I did it to another witch. Maybe Georgia did it to me?"
"Nope. I would have felt some evidence of any binding."
"Then what the hell did she do to me?"
"I can't tell you that. I can only offer you my company for now, and keep an eye on you. No more climbing out of bed."
I didn't want to ask what Seren meant by keeping watch over me and if it were for my health or something else. Instead, I mutely nodded as she made a fuss of settling me on the bed. She filled the silence with idle chatter about all the things that had happened while I was missing; but I tuned her out to wonder what really happened to me. Finally, she pushed a cluster of cards into my hand and told me to read them. The first one I opened read, "Congratulations. You're not dead!" It was signed by Micah. I had to hold back a smile at his appalling humour. I opened the others, and found well wishes from my old friends Marc Bartholomew, Kitty, Annalise and Beau, and more from people I barely knew. My heart overflowed with the thought that so many people actually cared about me.
~
After an hour, there was a knock at the door before Étoile stepped inside, followed quickly by Evan and Gage. I pushed up onto my elbows, searching their faces, and Seren fell quiet. They didn't look like they'd been in a fight, but they seemed far from happy.
"Did you find anything?" I asked.
Gage shook his head. "They cleared out. I'm guessing by the mess they left, they retreated as soon as they knew for certain you were gone."
"Do we even know when that was?" I asked. "You found me... when?"
"Two days ago," said Étoile. "You were unconscious for forty-two hours."
"Forty-two hours?" I whispered, struggling to understand the loss of time.
"Again, compared to..."
"I know, I know," I interrupted. "Compared to two months, that's nothing."
"Here's what we know," said Evan. "The diviner location was a warehouse five miles from where I found Stella. The team searched it entirely, and there was no one there although it had definitely been occupied, and very recently. We found evidence of many captives that were being held in a sub-level area, but they were all gone too. There was no one left."
"What about evidence? They must have left something behind," I asked.
"The team swept the warehouse for anything and everything, but found nothing. Someone set a fire there before we came, and it looked like some papers were burned..." started Gage.
"We could try a reconstruction spell?" I said, interrupting. "That's what we did for that letter from the Rockford pack wolf."
Evan shook his head. "There were too many charred fragments. Even if someone got the spell to work, there's no guarantee it would be reconstructed perfectly. It could just as easily be a jumble of all the different papers that were burned. They might not have had anything to do with the captives, or The Brotherhood."
"You could trace them magically using whatever’s left? See where they went? Georgia must have left some kind of elemental trace?"
"They searched, but there was nothing. There was nothing to suggest that anything supernatural had ever been there," said Étoile.
"But there must have been!" I lowered my voice at Evan's indication, not realising I was shouting. "You said there were prisoners! What if they were the missing witches Étoile asked me to look into?"
"I know. I believe you, but it's a dead end," Evan said.
I refused to believe nothing could be done. It seemed so wrong that I was so close to The Brotherhood, and to Auberon and Georgia, yet had nothing to show for it except a depleted magic source, a two-month hole in my memory, and a twenty-four hour babysitter in case I went crazy as a result. Even worse, I realised, what if they were waiting to see if I were some kind of ticking time bomb? Or a Trojan horse, sent to infiltrate them? No, that couldn't be true. Seren thoroughly checked me over and pronounced me healthy.
"Étoile?" I turned to my friend. "Is it really a dead end?"
She took a deep breath and nodded. Just the slightest drop of her shoulders belied her disappointment. She wanted more than this.
"There's nothing we can do to trace The Brotherhood? They're just going to get away with it?" Even as I asked, I knew there wasn’t an answer.
"There're a couple things we can do. While you were missing, we reached out to all of our contacts, trying to discover exactly who else was missing, and we've gotten some reports back. Look through these photos and see if you can pick out anyone familiar. A familiar face might spark a memory." Étoile placed a sheaf of photos on the bed.
"What happens if I see someone I recognise? And what happens if I don't?" I asked as I reached for the photos, discarding the first picture of an elderly, bearded man. His face didn't raise a spark.
"There's another option. You won't like it."
"You had better tell me anyway."
"We can look into your mind. We can extract your memories and see exactly what you saw."
Silence filled the room. All I could think about was the first and last time I endured a memory extraction. Then, I was on trial for murder, and my memories were unequivocal proof of my actions in self-defence. It didn't escape me that Georgia was behind that trial too. It was an uncomfortable procedure; but even worse, I didn't know what memories would appear. What would I find out about myself? And what happened to me? The prisoners, I reminded myself. Somewhere, The Brotherhood still had prisoners. Unlocking my memories could be the only key to finding them. "What happens if I say yes?" I asked.
Étoile crossed her arms. "Regardless of what we find, when your testimony goes in front of The Council, I'm sure there will be only one outcome. War."
Chapter Three
War. It was the only word on my mind as I waited in the stark room. I felt utterly deflated knowing that whatever happened to me in my missing two months was worthy of starting a war. Worse, the excited frisson of magic creeping over my skin was a product of something altogether more frightening; the imminence of war excited me. No, not the war. Not more bloodshed. The concept of finally stopping The Brotherhood, and making sure they would never hurt anyone of my kind again, was pretty seductive. I could finally live in peace, away from the people who wanted to hurt me most. That was the most exhilarating thought of all.
As I envisioned my smug satisfaction in ridding the witch hunters from the world, Auberon's face flashed into my mind. My last memory was of him leering at me, and I instantly replaced his face with Daniel's gentle visage. He was Auberon's son and my cousin, my ally, and only surviving family member. He must have been worried sick, I realised, as I turned around. I began searching for a phone on the nightstand. I had to tell him I was okay.
"He knows," said a voice from the doorway. Étoile stood in the open door. The long, midnight blue dress she wore was elegant, far beyond what the situation suggested. At least, Étoile never let her standards slip, I thought.
"Étoile!"
"I didn't look into your head, I promise. That thought leaked out." She entered, leaving the door open.
I shut down my mind, locking it behind impenetrable defences. It was becoming so easy to do, I barely had to think about it. Clearly, my magic suffered; my errant thoughts leaked out, only to be picked up by my telepathic friend.
"Please don't worry about Daniel. He's here and he knows you're safe. He's looking forward to seeing you soon." As soon as she said it, the tension left my shoulders. One less thing to worry about. Étoile continued, "I spoke to the Council and we agreed that peeking into your mind would be the quickest and most effective solution for finding out where you've been and exactly what happened to you."
I turned toward the window, away from her. The height of The Amethyst always surprised me. We were perched above the city. Pedestrians and vehicles below were mere specks, completely unaware that one of the most powerful and secret organisations in the coun
try, maybe even the world, operated directly above them. There was a time when I wanted to be one of the people below, normal and oblivious, but I found a family here, and people like me. Would I swap that for the safety of oblivion? I wasn't sure anymore. "It's the only solution, isn't it?" I asked, speaking to her reflection. "I've been thinking about it; and I can't see any other way."
"I agree." Étoile crossed the room, reaching one hand towards me. Her manicure was blood-red, and her hand looked pale as she took mine. "We can't wait for your memory to return. We don't even know if it will."
"I still can't recall a thing. There's absolutely nothing between opening my door to Auberon and waking up here except for a vague memory of breaking my ring."
"You could have undergone any kind of trauma. A highly stressful event could have caused this. It might not have anything to do with your magic."
"But you don't know for certain."
"Not until we delve into your mind."
"When?"
"They're waiting."
I steeled myself, mustering the kind of bravado I wished I had. "Let's do this," I said, feeling anything but confident. Étoile's hand didn't leave mine and as we exited the room, she gave it a reassuring squeeze. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect; Étoile didn't do reassuring squeezes. Étoile only dispensed cutting put-downs and sarcasm, which meant one thing: she was scared.
Instead of leading me to the Council rooms, we traversed a series of corridors, finally arriving outside Étoile's office.
"Why here?" I asked.
"For privacy." She opened the door, ushering me inside. Evan sat on the sofa, his long legs crossed in what appeared to be a casual pose, but looked far too rigid for him to truly be at ease. Gage stood by the window, his arms folded. Kitty paced the room, launching herself at me the moment I entered.
"I have never been so worried in all my life!" she squealed, gripping my shoulders.
"Never?" I asked, raising my eyebrows as I recalled all the trials Kitty endured.
Endless Magic (Stella Mayweather Series Book 6) Page 2