The Left-Hand Path: Prodigy
Page 24
Cora smiled at Elton’s scowl as Nathan shut himself in the bathroom. “At least he’s feeling better,” she said.
“As soon as we can, we need to move again. I’d like to be out of the state today. And we should keep an ear out for news from Miami. Hopefully the Magister delivers.”
“I think he will,” Cora said. She chuckled. “And if he doesn’t, I know where to find him.” She lowered her eyes and rolled the hem of her tank top in her fingers. “You should have seen what it was like in there, Elton. It was...horrible, the way they were keeping those people. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to blow the whole damn place up.”
“Nathan will probably be disappointed that you didn’t.”
“If I had, no one else would know. And people have to know. I want other witches to see what the Magistrate was allowing to happen. What it was protecting. I want them to be just as angry as I was. Then maybe they’ll do something. Maybe people will fight them.”
Elton smiled faintly. “You did well, Cora. You saved those people. I’m proud of you.”
She rolled her eyes to hide her smile, but Elton could see the faint flush in her cheeks. “Thanks, mom,” she grumbled. She tossed a pillow at him and stood to dig in her suitcase for a change of clothes.
Nathan was using Elton’s razor to shave in the bathroom mirror when the blond’s phone rang a little while later. Elton answered the call, but he barely had time to say hello before Thomas’s voice cut him off.
“Where are you right now?”
“Some motel in St. Augustine. Have you heard anything?”
“Too much. Tell me the address of your motel. Text it to me right now. I’ll explain.”
Elton frowned down at the phone as Thomas ended the call, but he did as he was told. He found the address on a brochure on the nightstand and sent it. He got silence in response, and when Cora tilted her head at him curiously, he could only shrug.
A booming crack sounded from outside the door, startling everyone and making Nathan swear as he nicked his chin with the blade. Cora and Elton exchanged a brief glance, and before Elton could even make it to the window to look out, there was a knock at the door. When Elton opened it, Thomas stood in the doorway with a large bag slung over his shoulder, and behind him, the parking lot had opened into a deep, narrow crevice that stretched the length of the asphalt. He had sweat on his brow and was breathing heavily, but he seemed mostly steady on his feet. He pushed past Elton without a word and dropped his bag on the nearest bed.
“How the hell did you get here?” Elton asked, leaning around the door to get a better look at the broken ground outside.
“Shut the door,” Thomas snapped in response. He unzipped his bag and pulled out a manilla envelope once he’d been obeyed, pushing it almost accusingly into Elton’s chest. Nathan turned from the vanity and moved to stand behind Cora to listen. “You wanted the Magistrate to notice you,” Thomas said, turning to look at Cora and Nathan in turn. “Well they have. Word is everywhere about what you did last night—leaked pictures,” he added with a grim, disapproving frown in Elton’s direction. “Everyone I know has called me to tell me about it. Exposing human trafficking gets a lot of attention, and so does murder. The Magister in Miami announced some sort of conference to address the corruption in his city. And then just now, a friend in Ottawa sent me this.” He gestured to the envelope in Elton’s hands.
Elton frowned as he opened the flap and retrieved the thick sheets of paper inside, setting the envelope aside to focus on the bold title at the top of the document.
COUNCIL OF SEVEN OF THE NORTH AMERICAN MAGISTRATE
OPERATIVE ORDER
of April 24, 2016 No. 00249
ON THE OPERATION OF REPRESSION OF FORMER CULECH, CRIMINALS, AND OTHER ANTI-MAGISTRATE ELEMENTS
He read it aloud, brow furrowed, and when he looked up at Nathan, the other man’s expression had darkened.
“What’s a culech?” Cora asked.
“Someone convicted of using dorche,” Elton answered, already scanning the rest of the page.
“They’re giving themselves permission to investigate and rearrest anyone who’s ever been convicted of anything,” Thomas said, “and putting them at the mercy of their appointed officials.” He stepped forward and tapped the back of the pages in Elton’s hand. “Check section two.”
Elton flipped the page. “On measures of punishing the repressed,” he read. “All repressed culech and other anti-Magistrate elements are divided into two categories: the first category includes all the most hostile of the elements listed above. They are subject to immediate arrest and, upon consideration of their cases by Magistrate-approved Tréide, shall be subject to hanging or application of the ingnas spell.”
“What?” Cora breathed. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Thomas said with a scowl. “These Tréide they’ve assigned are judge and jury both, and they’re required to make their judgment and carry out the sentence within five days of the arrest.”
“That’s insane.”
“Keep reading,” Thomas pressed.
Elton sighed through his nose as he went on. “The second category includes all other less active but still hostile elements. They are subject to arrest and imprisonment of a period of 8 to 10 years, and the most vicious and socially dangerous of them shall be subject to application of the cuimne spell at intervals set at the discretion of the Tréide.”
Cora covered her mouth with both hands and wilted back against Nathan’s chest. He put a steadying hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him. “Did we do this?” she whispered through her fingers.
“No,” he said firmly.
“It says the families of the ‘repressed’ will be relocated God knows where,” Thomas added. “It says they’re going to use the ingnas on any mundanes they think have been exposed, and everyone with a connection to any of these people will be put under indefinite surveillance. It’s an absolute lockdown,” he finished with a sneer of disgust on his lips.
Elton read through the rest of the document in silence, and when he finished, he ran a hand through his hair and stepped forward to hand it over to Nathan.
“They can’t do this,” Cora insisted.
“They can,” Thomas countered, “and they are. The Order says it’s effective on the first of May. That means we have six days.”
“To do what?”
“To figure out how we’re going to stop this.” He turned his frown on Elton. “We have to try to stop it.”
“We?” Elton asked.
Thomas snorted. “I have connections, and you have the most dangerous witch alive and a violent disposition. If we can’t do something, who can?”
“That also means we have six days to check on the next couple of yours the Magistrate knows about,” Cora cut in, and Thomas softened, just slightly.
“I appreciate it,” he said.
Cora turned her head to look back at Nathan, who was reading through the paper with a dark frown on his face. “You’re quiet,” she murmured.
He didn’t answer right away. The room went quiet while he turned the last page of the Magistrate’s order, all three of them waiting until he finished and dropped the document on the bed beside him.
“You know how I hate activism,” he finally said, his grim tone betraying his casual words. He lifted his eyes to meet Elton’s. “But you point me where you want me.”
Cora slid her hand into his and squeezed, letting out a slow, steeling breath. Elton gave him a nod and glanced back at Thomas.
“We’ll make them regret it,” he promised.
e(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share