My tolerance for boring was better than Cinaed’s, but not by much. This meeting wouldn’t tax the limits of our concentration. “There won’t be a lot of boring speeches, love. Dad promised we’ll finish before lunch, so we can go shopping before dinner.”
“Seriously?” Cinaed whispered loudly. “Is that what he thinks I do all day? Shop?”
I raised my eyebrows to call him out. “As if you’d care if it got us out of an all-day meeting?”
“Fair point,” he said. “And you need new sweatpants. Two pairs are not enough. I do laundry every day.”
Three months together had taught us the rhythms of shared life denied us for decades. Laundry, shopping, cooking—or my attempt to cook at least—the mundane things others had done for us in the past, we learned to do together. I expected it would get old soon without something more challenging to occupy our time, but for now, it was exactly what we needed.
The door to the University Board Room was partially open, and voices spilled into the hallway. I took a breath before pushing it open. We were the last to arrive, and the group fell silent when we entered.
The room itself breathed history. Ancient oak panels brought over from the original school centuries ago. Portraits of past deans hung in chronological order, with an empty space where Blackstone’s used to occupy. The eyes of previous heads seemed to follow our movements as we made our way to our seats. A massive mahogany table dominated the room and bore the scars of magical “accidents” from angry directors. It had witnessed the mage wars, the reforms following those dark days, and the transformation of the university into its current status. Now it would bear witness to this new chapter.
Dad sat at the head of the table, the place Grandpa Hollen usually occupied when the school’s board of directors met. This time, he sat to Dad’s right. Avie was on his left, a clear signal she would be the next Mage Chancellor. The Guardians, old and new, took up most of the chairs, with ard ri Tadgán of the Elven Conclave, and Elowen Sage, a moose shifter and first female president of the Shifter Assembly, making up the last two guests.
No one seemed annoyed at our being the last to arrive. Grandpa winked at us, a sign his injuries hadn’t dampened his spirits.
“Now that we’re all present, let’s get started,” Dad said. “Avie, can you bring us up to date?”
This was the pattern after every memorial service. Avie filled us in on what progress the Inquisitor General’s office had made uncovering Blackstone’s network.
“The new prisoners continue to give us intelligence, but as with the others we’ve interrogated, they only knew fragments of the larger operation. Blackstone used a cell structure. No oneoutside his inner circle knew more than a few details. We’re still learning new names, so we’ll continue our search.”
Her green mage stone pulsed, and a map of Earth appeared above the table. Red and yellow dots were sprinkled across the world.
“These are confirmed sites of Blackstone’s influence. Red indicates locations we’ve neutralized. Yellow ones are still under investigation. We’re making progress, but each new person we capture gives up more places to investigate.”
“What about his inner circle?” Tadgán asked.
“Most were killed or captured during the fight,” Avie replied. “We’re tracking down the survivors we know about as fast as we can. It’s not all good news, however. Through our interrogation, we’ve learned Blackstone’s plans included a contingency in case he lost. Certain of his followers remained hidden during the war. They were told to reveal themselves only once the war ended. If he won, they joined him, if he lost, they were supposed to take up the fight. We intercepted one of these sleeper agents when he attempted to access a cache of magic near one of the unused medicine wheels.”
A murmur passed through the room. Suddenly, what should’ve been a simple job—anchor the Great Ward—became a lot more dangerous. Blackstone was a vile human, but I couldn’t deny he’d been a brilliant planner.
“Have you determined what their goals are?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Avie said grimly. “The weapons we recovered were dangerous, but nothing capable of breaching the Great Ward.”
“For now,” Bart said, tapping the table with his index finger. “Blackstone planned for centuries before he made his move. He identified mages to take his place and seeded sites with the tools to achieve his goal.”
Although it wasn’t cheery news, Bart was correct. No plan launched the moment you decided to act. “Cinaed and I will keep a closer eye on any unusual black magic.”
“I don’t mean to sound the alarm bells, but we’ve also detected someone attempting to access Blackstone’s frozen assets,” Dad said. “We don’t know who it is, but they appear to be well-informed.”
“Have we found his base of operations?” Jan asked. “I can’t imagine he had time to wipe it clean right before he began the final phase.”
“Again, not yet,” Avie said, sounding frustrated. “We believe it’s in Eastern Europe, possibly Romania, but our attempts to find it have been unsuccessful.”
“We should see if we can help with that,”Cinaed said through our link.“Our connection to the Ward might be useful.”
I agreed, but until we knew for sure, I didn’t want to suggest it to the group.“We can talk to Bart and Cael tonight at dinner.”
“Let’s move on to the next item on the list,” Dad looked at the ard ri. “What’s the status on the medicine wheels?”
Tadgán stood and looked around the room. “We’ve identified thirty-seven medicine wheels across North America that show signs of contamination. Some are heavily corrupted, but most only have traces of dark magic. All need to be cleansed or they could become focal points for future attacks on the Great Ward.
“The wheels, however, are integral to their tribes. We can’t just erase them,” the ard ri continued. “They require more than standard cleansing methods.”
Cinaed’s desire to help came through our link. Because I asked we hold off, he now hesitated to suggest this was something we could do.“Our new position might be useful. What do you think?”
