First was a man standing at the center of the circle, his posture relaxed but commanding, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He was older, perhaps in his late fifties, with silver-streaked hair and a face that had been handsome once and was still striking despite the lines that age had carved into it. He wore a simple dark suit, no tie, and his eyes, pale grey, almost colorless, swept across the assembled crowd with the easy confidence of someone who was used to being listened to.The other was Marcus.He stood in the shadows at the far edge of the room, partially concealed by one of the pillars that supported the upper levels, but Zachary recognized him immediately. The posture, the lean frame, the way he held his arms crossed over his chest. Marcus's eerie eyes were fixed on the man in the center, and his expression was unreadable.Zachary lingered at the edge of the room, still half-hidden by the corridor's archway, and watched. The man in the center was speaking, his vo

"Why didn't you just approach me directly?" he finally asked, tone hushed. "Why all this?Why not just send a message and ask for a meeting?"Caius sighed, soft and low. "It is because we do not have time for meetings, Young Lord. We do not have weeks or months to spend convincing you to trust us. The conflict is coming faster than we anticipated, and we needed to see what you were capable of. There was debate among our members about whether you would be strong enough to survive what is coming.""Debate," Zachary said flatly. "You debated whether to kidnap me.""We debated whether to approach you at all." Caius's voice was gentle, almost apologetic. "You are new to this world, Young Lord. You have only been aware of your bloodline for a little over a year. Some of our members worried that you would not be ready for what is coming. That you would be more of a liability than an asset."Zachary felt his face heat. "And now? After all this, what do they think?"Caius smiled. "Opinions r

In the meantime Morwen hit Caius like a wave crashing against a seawall.She came in fast, her axe already in motion, and the two masked fighters flanking her moved with her, their swords cutting arcs of silver through the amber light. Caius met them with his water blades, the transparent swords flashing as they parried and thrust, and the sound of metal on water was strange, a soft, wet impact followed by a sharp hiss, like rain falling on hot stone.Zachary lost track of the fight almost immediately. It moved too fast, the participants blurring together into a tangle of limbs and blades and desperate, violent motion. He saw Caius block a strike from the left, deflect a thrust from the right, and then Morwen's axe was coming down toward his head and he was forced to give ground, stepping back, his water swords rising to meet the blow.The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the courtyard, and Zachary felt it in his chest, a physical pressure that made his ears pop."Don't jus

Consciousness returned to Zachary in fragments, each one sharper than the last, like pieces of a shattered mirror being pressed back into place one by one.The first thing he became aware of was the soreness, a deep, bone-deep ache that seemed to radiate from every joint and muscle and sinew in his body. He had been sore before, had pushed himself past exhaustion during training on Sanctuary, had woken up on countless mornings feeling like he had been run over by something large and unforgiving. But this was different. This was the kind of soreness that came from having one's body pushed to its absolute limits and then beyond, the kind that whispered promises of long recovery and longer nights.He tried to move his arm and immediately regretted it. A sharp, bright flare of pain shot up from his shoulder, and he heard himself make a sound that was not quite a groan and not quite a gasp, something in between that seemed to sum up his entire situation better than words ever could.The se

Zachary turned toward the door, then stopped. There was something he needed to say, something that had been sitting in his chest since he woke up, and he knew that if he did not say it now, he probably never would."I'm not going to apologize," he said, and he did not have to specify what he was apologizing for. They both knew. "For what I did to you. For stabbing you. I'm not sorry."Sey's expression did not change. "I did not expect you to.""You were going to use that awful thing on me. My instincts were right.""They were." She touched her stomach, where the bandages were hidden beneath her shirt, and something flickered across her face. "I do not blame you for defending yourself. I would have done the same in your position."Zachary stared at her, searching for the lie, the angle, the hidden meaning behind her words. He found nothing. Just a woman who had tried to hurt him and been hurt in return, who was now standing in front of him with no apparent resentment and no desire fo