have to check on her when this was done.
Jackson and Ryleigh took their places at the center of the horseshoe-shaped, stone table. The other twelve council heads stood at attention behind their seats, six on either side of the table, waiting for Jackson and Ryleigh to be seated. The Death Dealers and all eight members of the Queen’s Army, along with the few Guardsmen, lined the back wall.
Dakota Knight, head of the Advisory Council and Jackson’s partner on the Death Dealer team, stood at his left, Ryleigh at his right. Together, Jackson and Ryleigh sat.
Max settled at Ryleigh’s right, between her and Mia’s empty seat.
Chairs scraped against the stone floor. Voices rose as everyone struggled to be heard. Papers and books rustled and thumped against the table, echoing through the chamber.
Dakota leaned close to Jackson. “Do you think it’s true?”
“I don’t even know what it is yet, Dakota.” And he’d never find out if he didn’t restore some sense of order to these proceedings. He slammed the gavel against the tabletop.
A tense hush fell over them.
“Darius. Explain.”
Darius Knight, head of the Security Council, approached the podium in the center of the horseshoe. “Sir. I have received word of your br—uh, Chayce Maynard.” Everyone knew better than to refer to that traitor as Jackson’s brother in his presence, but he’d have to forgive an occasional slip. Old habits and all that.
“Tell me.” He tossed the unread scroll onto the table. He’d read it later, when he was alone. For now, he wanted the interpretation of his most trusted consultants.
Darius threw up his hands and shook his head. “I don’t honestly know, Your Majesty. The information seems credible, yet… I can’t be sure.” He smoothed his dark hair. The silence amplified the creak of his long leather jacket.
Jackson gave him time to collect his thoughts, even though he wanted to leap over the table, shake the man, and demand to know if he understood the urgency of the situation. He folded his hands and set them on the table. A pose his father had often taken. Jackson couldn’t help wondering if his father’s insides had boiled with the same turmoil Jackson’s now did while maintaining that outward impression of calm.
“We have received word of a strange old man living in the wilds of Argonas. Not just the forests, but the coldest, harshest, most dangerous land in the realm. Survival there would be near impossible.” Darius rested his hands on the podium and hung his head. When he lifted it, his expression had hardened. “At least, it would be for anyone other than the strongest sorcerer.”
“Thaddeus.”
He nodded. “That’s what we think.”
“And if Chayce’s seer, one of the most gifted sorcerer’s in existence, is living there, Chayce is as well.”
“Yes, sir. We believe so.” Darius shrugged. “Hell, Jackson, he’d be a fool to leave Thaddeus, and no matter what any of us think of Chayce, he’s no fool.”
No, he wasn’t. He was smart, devious, and pure evil. They’d do well not to underestimate him.
“Thank you, Darius. Elijah?”
Elijah, the Cymmeran prophet, had been one of his father’s most trusted advisors and head of the Peacekeeping Council. If anyone could have found a nonviolent solution to the threat Chayce posed, it would have been Elijah, who had helped raise Jackson and Chayce. Even he had voted for Chayce’s execution.
“Your Majesty.” Elijah rifled through the papers scattered on the table in front of him. After selecting a few pages, he pushed his chair back and rose, then lingered beside his seat before setting them aside in exchange for a book.
Didn’t anyone in this chamber realize the need to hurry? By the time they got around to going after Chayce, he’d be long gone. “What have you seen?”
He propped the big book on the podium, opened it, and paged leisurely through. The crackle of the ancient tome’s crisp pages echoed through the chamber. Elijah’s visions often dictated the course of action Cymmeran leaders would take. His words in the next few minutes would most likely be the deciding factor in how they proceeded, would determine the fate of Cymmera.
Those seated propped onto the edges of their seats. Those standing leaned forward.
Even Max sat straighter, his ears perked up.
The silence hummed with anticipation.
Jackson held his tongue. If the prophet was moving this slowly, surely there was reason. He’d often scolded Jackson that things needed to happen when they were supposed to happen, not necessarily when Jackson wanted them to happen.
“Your Majesty.” He ran his finger over a page and frowned. “I have been…interested…in this area of Argonas for quite some time. My visions in this matter have been vague of late. Too vague really, yet…” Elijah muttered something to himself. “Unfortunately, this is not the path down which my sight has been taking me. Other visions have consumed most of my attention. Visions of what will happen. Of what must happen if this kingdom is to survive.” He assessed Ryleigh, his expression vacant, as it often was when a vision gripped him.
She frowned at Jackson and shifted in her seat.
Elijah returned to his senses with a shake of his head. “I can tell you this information is just the beginning. Not only the beginning of this battle, but the beginning of a new—”
The chamber door swung open, and Mia strode through carrying a small scroll. “I’ve found it, Elijah, but—”
“Thank you, Princess.” He took the scroll and placed it atop his book.
“Elijah, please, listen—”
“That’s enough, Mia.” The prophet was unusually abrupt. “Please. Do as I asked.”
“But—” Mia sobbed.
He gripped her upper arms, bringing her face to face with him. If not for the tomblike silence in the chamber, he would not likely have been heard. “Mia. We’ve been over and over this. There is no other way.”
When he released her, she wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt and stayed where she was.
He cupped her cheek. “I trust you will do what you must, my child.”
She leaned into his delicate hand, closed her eyes, covered his hand with her own, and nodded.
Elijah stepped back and lowered his hand. “Go, now. Quickly. The events have already been set in motion, not by our doing. There is no turning back now.”
She turned to leave, spun back, threw her arms around Elijah’s neck, and mumbled something against his chest before fleeing the chamber.
Ryleigh jumped up.
Jackson gripped her wrist, stood, and leaned close. Mindful of how sound carried in the chamber, he whispered, “Allow her to do what Elijah has asked. We will seek her out together once this is done
