Jocelynn Drake - [Asylum Tales 02] (34 page)

It was several seconds before anyone on the council spoke again. “Powell wasn’t involved in the information leak,” one warlock said, almost disappointed. He hadn’t spoken since I entered the room and he didn’t look particularly pleased with the revelation that I wasn’t involved. Of course, I had a few other strikes against me.

“But he did work for the elf,” murmured a witch at the far end of the row of council members. Her voice was soft and thoughtful, as if she were carefully considering the things she was seeing in Reave’s mind.

“Not willingly,” I said. “A daylight attack by Simon Thorn forced my secret out into the populace. Reave used blackmail to force me to work for him.”

“So I saw.” Her voice hardened. She didn’t look at me when she spoke, but was looking over my shoulder at Gideon. My heart pounded in my chest and a cold sweat broke out between my shoulder blades. If she was seeing Reave’s anger about my activities at the fix house, then she was likely drawing some interesting conclusions about Gideon’s failure to report what had occurred at the house to the council.
Fuck.

“Reave is the one who discovered the secret locations,” I said in a rush, pushing forward in hopes of distracting the rest of the council from whatever the witch had seen. “I humbly request that the Towers punish the Svartálfar called Reave and send a message to the leaders of the world that you’ve captured the enemy that brought destruction down on the world’s people.”

A low chuckle rippled over me, drawing my gaze down to the opposite end of the row of council members. A lean warlock sat back in his chair, watching me through dancing green eyes. He wore the same black robes as all the others and his staff wasn’t much different from theirs, but when I looked at him, the only word that came to mind was
dandy
. Something in me wanted to believe he was harmless, which only set more alarm bells. No warlock or witch was harmless.

“I didn’t think you knew such a term, Mr. Powell.
Humble,
” he said with another laugh.

I didn’t recognize him, so I didn’t think he had been at my hearing. Of course, the memory of my hearing was a terrified blur, so he could have been there.

“Can you be humble?” he asked with a grin.

I bowed to the council a bit stiffly, bending low at the waist. “Please, consider my request. Let people sleep easily in their beds again.” I was looking at the shiny floor as I spoke, but they heard me. Bile rose up in my throat and I wanted to scream. Hatred and shame battled in my chest until I was nearly choking. I hated having to abase myself before these assholes, but if it kept everyone safe for a little while longer, I could swallow my pride.

When I straightened and gazed up at the council, they were all looking at each other but no one was speaking. The orbs had changed to an orangish glow as they used telepathy to deliberate silently with each other. If there was a consensus among them, they wouldn’t bother to vote. If the council was widely divided, they’d vote verbally.

I swallowed hard, fighting the need to throw up as the tension roiled my stomach. The argument seemed cut-and-dry to me. Reave had found the locations of the Towers. He deserved to be punished for threatening the order of the world. I doubted there was a government in the world that would agree to punish him with a death sentence, but if a scapegoat could take the blame without risking more lives, they’d all hand him over without hesitation. It wasn’t right, but it kept people alive.

Of course, I didn’t know what else they had seen in Reave’s mind and I was praying they didn’t throw my name in with his so they could get rid of me.

“It’s decided,” the black witch announced, and my heart stopped for a second, waiting. “The elf will be executed for his violation of our sanctity.” I waited but she stopped talking and no one said my name. I released my held breath in a rush. My head swam and my knees went weak. I was sure that I was going to fall on my ass in the middle of the chamber and I didn’t care.

“I’m not the only one who knows!” Reave screamed in desperation.

“No,” I said in a broken whisper before I could catch myself. If I thought it would have made a difference, I would have killed Reave in that second, but it was too late. The words had already hit the air. Apparently, the council members hadn’t dug deeply enough to see Reave give the locations to my brother, but now they would know.

I closed my eyes against the swell of impotent rage and tears, but not before I saw the orbs snap to bright yellow as they dove back into Reave’s mind, searching for the bit of information that they had missed.

“Robert Grant . . . your brother . . .” one of the council members said in surprise. I didn’t know who had spoken, but the voice had been female, sounding almost sad, or at least pitying.

I took at deep breath and blinked back the tears before looking up at them. “It was Reave’s way of ensuring my cooperation and protection against the Towers. He told the locations to my brother.” My tone was quiet, almost as if I was dead inside, but I wasn’t that lucky.

“And the location of this brother?” the dandy inquired.

It had been on the tip of my tongue to say that I killed him, but they would know the truth. They would search my brain until they found the memory of me murdering my brother. I couldn’t lie to the council. I could stretch the truth, but not outright lie.

“He’s gone.”

The warlock smiled at me, trying to look as if he was my best friend in the world, but I wasn’t buying it. “Where?”

“No.”

The warlock’s eyes widened, but otherwise there was no reaction on his lean face as he watched me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see several orbs flare to bright red. Yeah, this was what I had been waiting for. You didn’t refuse the council and you never struck bargains, but I was going to try to do both to save my brother’s life.

I prepared to step out on the tightrope. The council members could try to read my mind like they had read Reave’s, but they wouldn’t be as successful because I was a warlock. I knew how to compartmentalize thoughts, hide them away so that a quick search would reveal nothing. Oh, they could eventually find the truth, but it wasn’t going to be quick. They’d have to strip away each layer of my brain until there was nothing left of me. Normally, the council wouldn’t have a problem with such a thing, other than that it took lots of valuable time. I had to give them a good reason not to destroy my mind.

“Reave told my brother, but I wiped the memory. Robert doesn’t know the locations now; nor is he aware that he ever knew them.”

The dandy flashed me an indulgent smile that I wanted to rip off his face with a rake. “Forgive us if we’re not as confident as you. Memory wipes are quite tricky. I can’t imagine that you’ve had a lot of practice at them.” His smile widened as he waited for me to backpedal. Memory spells were not covered in my self-defense-only agreement and I was about to hang myself if I admitted a second time to using it.

My gaze never wavered from him. “As Simon Thorn could at one time attest, I am talented. My brother’s memory has been wiped.”

The murmur of conversation behind me picked up again for a couple seconds before one of the council members pounded his staff on the stone floor. The warlock who had spoken smiled at me, his grin nearly sharklike. He thought he had me, and he was probably right, but I wasn’t done yet.

“My brother’s memory has been wiped,” I repeated, my voice rising strong and firm. “He has no memory of Reave, myself, or my family. I gave him a new name, appearance, and past that he doesn’t question. He was sent from the city where he lived and I have no idea where he will settle.”

“A very pretty attempt at protection,” Henry Fox commented, sounding bored, but I knew better. His mind was already turning over the spells that he could use to track down Robert. It would take time, but he could do it.

I grinned at him, looking sharklike myself. “I also gave him insurance.” Fox’s satisfied look crumpled to a frown and even the dandy seemed to be paying closer attention now. “He has the coordinates tattooed on his body in code, though not currently visible to the naked eye. However, if he should die unexpectedly and there is even a hint of magic surrounding him at the time, not only will the tattooed coordinates appear on his body, but they will also appear on ten different people every day for the next ten years. And should they die in a similar manner, the spread will be amplified. There will be no stopping the spread of information if he is harmed. My brother will
not
be hunted.”

The conversation in the chamber rose to a deafening roar as the gathered mass realized that the council had been outmaneuvered. No one did such a thing, and certainly not some rogue who had turned his back on the Towers. It took several minutes of pounding on the floor and few shouted threats to get the room back under control.

If I wasn’t looking at my own death sentence, I would applaud your efforts,
Gideon whispered telepathically. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound angry. I was hoping that it was because he understood why I did what I did, and maybe knew he would have done the same thing to protect his family.

“Powell,” the black witch said on a sigh when the silence had returned. She was frowning, looking as if she had aged ten years since I had entered the chamber. She probably wanted to smack me, and I couldn’t blame her. “You’re a devious bastard, which only makes it seem fitting that you wound up with Thorn since he was a devious bastard as well. Through your actions, you’ve handed yourself to us on a silver platter. You’ve broken the agreement not to use magic beyond self-defense, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that you’ve still got one more card to play. Shall we get on with it?”

It was a struggle not to grin at her, but I managed, keeping my face empty. A wistful thought wandered through my brain: if she had been my mentor when I came to the Towers, I might have stuck around a little longer.

“You need me,” I said, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my battered jeans.

Laughter exploded throughout the room, which helped to ease some of the growing tension, but it crept back into the room as everyone slowly realized that I was completely serious. Seats creaked as people nervously shifted while the council members frowned.

“The information leak should have impressed upon you that the Towers are no longer in tune with the events occurring in the rest of the world,” I continued when silence had returned. “The people of the world have gotten better at hiding their secrets from you because time has taught them your tricks. They fear you, that will never change, but they’ve found new ways to work around you. Reave’s accumulation of information couldn’t have happened overnight; it required the passage of weeks if not years. Yet the Towers didn’t discover it until he had all the locations. Simply put, you’re dangerously out of touch.”

To my surprise, none of the orbs glowed red. Instead, faces turned red and some members shifted in their seats. They were uncomfortable. I wasn’t telling them anything they hadn’t already realized and had begun to worry about.

“We don’t need you, traitor.” The pregnant-looking warlock sneered, but he gave no other argument because he had none.

“In fear, members of the Towers destroyed an entire city to kill one person when it would have been more effective to have killed him quietly and secretly without arousing the suspicions of the world,” I said, careful not to blame the destruction of Indianapolis on the council. “Now the world is wary. People have scattered like cockroaches with the light flipped on. They’ll be harder to find, harder to kill.” I smiled, letting an evil glint enter my expression. “You need me living among them, sifting through the rumors to protect the safety of the Towers.”

“Why do you wish to protect the Towers?” the dandy asked. The mocking look had been wiped from his face and he seemed to be taking a new interest in me.

“I’d rather not see another city destroyed,” I said, and then sighed, hating to admit something else, but it was the truth. “And despite our differing opinions on . . . Tower culture . . . I do believe in the dedicated study of the art. But that can’t be done if you’re constantly worrying about what the rest of the world is plotting.”

“And you’re offering your services as a spy?” The dandy looked supremely amused, barely holding back his laughter.

“In exchange for my life,” I said with a small bow, hiding my face when I was sure I was going to be sick. I was trying to trade servitude to Reave for slavery to the Towers. Not an improvement. When I could breathe evenly, I straightened and smiled broadly. “Unless, of course, you want to leave the Towers to live among the people? Think you’ll get many volunteers?”

Turning sharply around, I faced the wall of spectators and spread my hands out toward them in invitation. “Who among you will leave the Towers to live among the people? Who will pack up their wands and give up magic to live in a quiet suburban house or a cramped one-bedroom apartment where the floor creaks and the faucet leaks? Who will stand in line at the grocery, rub elbows at the local bar, and
get a job
?”

The silence was deafening. No one moved. Hell, I don’t think anyone was breathing for fear that the council would volunteer them. I spun back to face the council, swallowing a shout of laughter.

“You’ve made your point, Mr. Powell,” the black witch grumbled, causing the smile to be wiped off my face. She glanced down at her fellow council members, frowning. “We will consider your offer.”

Now it was my turn to stop breathing. I had laid all my cards on the table, made my final move. There were no more tricks up my sleeve to save my life. It would either work, or I was going to end up dead along with Reave very shortly. I watched the orbs glowing orange as the council telepathically discussed everything that I had laid before them. While no one spoke, the mood seemed more animated this time, as warlocks and witches moved in their seats and facial expressions changed. Only the dandy on the end remained still, his expression never changing. He sat back in his chair, holding his staff with one hand while he stared unblinking at me.