Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
She even remembered one time when Lyam had filched a set of robes and she walked around in them. Hadrian and Darby were dismayed, urging them to get rid of them. But she and Lyam had been inseparable and utterly rebellious. That had been before he fell in love with her … before he was killed, trying to protect her. She reached reassuringly in her pocket to finger Lyam’s compass. It was all she had left of him, and it brought her courage in the darkest times.
“Explain,” Bastian encouraged.
“On one hand, I think about all the good I could do if I was on the council. On the other hand, I’ve been in the Society for two weeks. How am I ever going to be able to represent the entire Society? There are only twenty spots. It seems madness that anyone would want me to have one of them.”
“I remember that feeling,” Bastian admitted. “I was young when I was nominated. Not as young as you, of course.”
“I’m not even eighteen yet. Under normal circumstances, I couldn’t even compete in the tournament.”
“Your circumstances are extraordinary,” he agreed, “but the feeling is the same. I didn’t feel qualified, but someone else recognized the work that I’d been doing. They saw what I could become. And others have seen that in you, Kerrigan. Remember that when you feel like you don’t deserve your position, others have seen your greatness.”
“No pressure.”
He laughed softly. “Precisely.”
Bastian’s words had the desired effect. Her nerves settled as they entered the council chamber. It was an enormous room, built to house the entire Society if need be. The ceiling went up endlessly to allow for the dragons to participate from their vantage point. In fact, she could see her own dragon, Tieran, up in the dizzying heights.
He tugged on the bond and said gently into her mind, What did you do this time?
She snorted, wishing she could send him a rather vulgar gesture. But her expression must have given it away because he rumbled with laughter.
Bastian squeezed her shoulder once and then took his spot on the council with the other eighteen members and the head of council.
The empty spot where Lorian Van Horn had sat sent a chill through her. To everyone present, Lorian was a convicted traitor to the Society. He’d sold illegal magical artifacts to the House of Shadows, and his hatred of half-Fae and humans had led him to work with the enemy during wartime. Kerrigan had personal reasons for disliking him, including him being the reason she had been kicked out of the program to begin with. It was her testimony that had gotten him killed.
And it was her who had discovered he wasn’t at all who she’d thought he was. She helped sentence an innocent man to death. The whole thing had been a setup by the real leader of the Red Masks—a terrorist group that wanted to destroy half-Fae and humans alike. Now, the leader of that group was among them, and Kerrigan was no closer to finding out who it was. Though she had something she hadn’t had last time—a spy on the inside.
“Ah, there you are,” Presiding Officer Zoh said. “Mistress Kerrigan, please step forward.”
Kerrigan headed into the center of the room. Three other Society members stood in a line. She only recognized one of them—Master Durban. He was from Galanthea tribe, one of the three warring tribes to the west coast of Alandria. Despite having no war affiliation, Hadrian had chosen Galanthea tribe to work with his sponsor, Fallon, a distinguished scholar who was a previous tournament contender. Durban had tried for a council spot last election and lost out by a fraction. Everyone considered him a shoo-in this time. He didn’t look pleased to see her.
The one woman wore a teal headscarf so much like the former tournament competitor, Noda, that Kerrigan’s heart squeezed at the sight. That meant she was from the island tribe of Concha on the east coast. The other man wore a pink cravat and top hat, revealing him of tribe Elsiande from the south, same as Bastian.
“We are still waiting on one more nominee,” Master Zoh said, “and then we will begin.”
Durban took a step forward in outrage. “The girl?”
Kerrigan’s face flushed.
Master Zoh looked down imperiously. “Back in line, Master Durban. Mistress Kerrigan is a full member of the Society and thus deserves your respect.”
“But she’s a leatha,” he snarled.
Kerrigan’s embarrassment turned to fury. Leatha was an ancient Fae term that meant half-Fae, which had been stolen and turned into a slur that meant, at best, half-breed bitch. It was not used in polite company. So, it was one thing to be called a leatha on the streets of Kinkadia, in taverns, and from bigoted idiots. It was another thing entirely for someone to use that filthy name inside the council room.