Circle of Shadows (Circle of Shadows, #1)(19)

“Not that part,” Sora said, “but we saw something else, and I have a suspicion it’s related. Tell us about Isle of the Moon.”

Broomstick filled them in on the strange typhoon attack. He didn’t know much—the Council was keeping information close to their chests while they tried to understand what they were up against—but being part of the Society’s administrative office staff, he’d gleaned enough to know this was formidable magic the Society would be up against.

“Stars,” Daemon cursed, as he leaned against the corridor wall for support. “I’ve never heard anything like it. Magic to control something outside of our own bodies?”

“We’ve seen magic like this, remember?” Sora said. “The fire at Takish Gorge.” She turned to Broomstick. “We saw Prince Gin. He’s back.”

Broomstick blinked at her. “What?”

A door opened and closed in the distance. A few moments later, Glass Lady turned in to the hallway. She walked quickly past the apprentices without even nodding to acknowledge them.

“Wait, Commander,” Sora said.

Glass Lady stopped and peered over her shoulder at her. “What is it?”

Sora’s insides nearly froze just from the commander’s stare. But she managed to speak. “Wolf and I have returned from our mission, and we saw something we think you’ll want to hear about—”

“I have much bigger things to worry about right now than Level Twelve missions,” Glass Lady said. “Submit the report in writing.” She began to walk away again.

“With all due respect, Commander, you’ll want to listen to this.” Daemon grabbed Glass Lady’s arm to stop her.

Sora and Broomstick both gasped.

Glass Lady stiffened. She turned and glared at where Daemon’s hand touched her. She let out a slow, chilly exhale. “You are not disrespecting a warrior—a councilmember—like I think you’re doing, are you?”

Daemon dropped his grip instantly. “N-no, Your Honor. I’m sorry. It’s just . . . please. We only need a few minutes of your time.”

“One minute,” Glass Lady said, crossing her arms.

Sora nodded. “One minute.”

“Then talk.”

“We saw Prince Gin,” Sora blurted.

Glass Lady raised a brow skeptically, as if she were listening to a tenderfoot’s story. “You did, did you? And how, pray tell, did that happen?”

Sora bristled. She’d never cared in the past about being taken seriously, but after the talk with Mama, Sora didn’t want to be merely a troublemaker anymore. Maybe Daemon was right—maybe it did matter now what other people thought of Sora, at least in some respects.

“Your Honor,” she said, standing tall with her arms by her sides as if she were giving a formal report in front of the entire Council. If she acted respectably, perhaps it would also command respect. “While on our annual trip to Takish Gorge three days ago, Wolf and I stumbled across a camp of nearly fifty people. They had a wall of logs around them like a fortification, and they danced around an enchanted bonfire. The flames changed colors and flared like green serpents. Then a cloaked man joined them, and when his hood fell away from his face, it was scarred. Like the Dragon Prince’s.”

Glass Lady’s expression remained emotionless. “They were dancing? Last I checked, that was not a violation of Kichonan law.”

Daemon pushed his way forward again. “Your Honor, the magic in the fire wasn’t taiga magic. Doesn’t that worry you given what happened at Isle of the Moon? And we saw Prince Gin!”

Glass Lady shook her head and sighed impatiently. “Spirit, Wolf, I appreciate your enthusiasm. Apprentices are often overly excited about their first missions. But think about it—you saw this during the Autumn Festival holidays. You yourselves just finished a reenactment of the Blood Rift. Other Kichonans across the kingdom also carry out similar playacting to celebrate Empress Aki’s victory. I’m sure what you saw was a masked actor. As for the color of this supposedly magical fire, that can likely be explained by the addition of a chemical—copper sulfate or alum—to the flames. Spirit’s roommate would know.”

Sora reddened. Fairy was obsessed with potions and poisons and all kinds of other concoctions. How could Sora not have thought of something as simple as the dancers throwing a chemical powder into the bonfire? Perhaps she had gotten too swept up by her new desire to be more than just another apprentice.

But then the image of Hana’s and the other tenderfoots’ charred skeletons after the Blood Rift flashed in Sora’s memory. She pulled her shoulders back and said, “No, Your Honor. I know what we saw. It wasn’t just stagecraft that made that fire.”

Glass Lady crossed her arms. “The typhoon attack was five days ago, and you saw this bonfire just two days later. If it were the same people, they wouldn’t have been able to travel the entire length of Kichona in that short period of time. However . . . we are investigating all possible leads to explain the attack on Isle of the Moon, so I suppose I can have a dragonfly messenger sent to the taiga outpost in Paro Village and have them send someone to investigate.”

The dread in Sora’s stomach settled, just a little. Glass Lady had listened to her. The warriors would handle this. “Thank you, Commander.”