Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (49 page)

Murmurs raced through the hall. Rhian showed no reaction.

"What you say is true," I said. The whispers increased. "But I see no threat in any of it."

"You see no problem with lying to the Governing Council?"

"Do you play games, Marquisa?"

She frowned. "What?"

"Chess, poker, board games." I paused. "Not mind games, of course."

Someone covered up a laugh with an awkward cough. She stared.

I shrugged. "When you play to win, it's best to not show all your cards. A winning strategy often involves bluffs. Sometimes a few lies need to be told to expose the truth."

A few scattered chuckles. A slow clap came from the aisle. Julian grinned as he applauded.

Relief trickled through me. I'd missed seeing that expression on his face.

Patrice paled. "It's your duty to—"

"My duty is to protect, not to stand by while others suffer and die. You insist on keeping things the way they are." I spread my arms. "That way has kept us at war for almost two thousand years. Don't you want it to end?"

"Of course I want —"

"You're a Transmutator. You used your Virtue to extinguish the fire at the school yesterday."

Transmutation bent the structure of water cells. As Amber demonstrated in the ondine presentation, the magic was usually used for plants and materials.

But Patrice had a powerful enough Virtue to directly navigate the ocean inland. It was impressive.

"Yes." She bristled.

"Why did you do it? Why did you use your magic to help?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jeeves tense. Julian remained completely still.

Nervousness flickered over her expression. "There were children."

"I see," I said slowly. "So you wanted to help the children but you refuse to use that same magic to save the lives of other innocents?"

She shut up.

"You were Rogue!" Someone spat from the back of the hall. "You entered our world less than a year ago. What gives you the right to criticize ways that have lasted so long?"

"Because I'm an outsider. It's easier to notice what's rotten when you haven't lived in it."

A fish didn't know it swam in water. When you're inside the pond, it's difficult to see what constantly surrounds you.

Marquis Genevieve's jowls quivered with indignation. "The sheer audacity to lie to the Council and these people —"

"The lie is that ondines cannot fight. The lie is the continuation of this war when it's possible to end it if we rethink our approach. The lie, Marquis, is the very facade this Council insists on maintaining."

Magic slammed down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Jourdain was prying again.

"What will it take?" I continued. "You witnessed three ondines effectively fighting alongside three of our best gardinels. A nix worked together with an ondine to bring down an Aquidae trafficking ring —"

"The head of the ring was his father!" Someone with a strong Asian accent called out.

"And you'd judge him on that? What if we judged you by the exploits of your families? If half the gossip that runs through Haverleau is true, most of you wouldn't be here."

A few more laughs twittered through the crowd.

"The way we've done things haven't worked. We need to consider change if we want this war to end."

"Change has its limits." Jourdain's ancient voice eerily reverberated.

I eyed her. I'll bet she wanted it to have limits. Unquestioned traditions kept us bound to her, our lives nothing more than a conditional state she granted.

She'd gotten her supposedly beloved children into this mess and used us to continue fighting her war with the Shadow. Funny how she didn't seem to feel one ounce of remorse.

At least she'd gotten over her tantrum and the rain had stopped.

I'm keeping your secrets.

Magic intensified under my skin and I gritted my teeth.

"You're asking us to trust ondines to fight alongside my people." Ancelin narrowed his eyes. "Their mistakes could cost my men their life."

"Do you have such little faith in your men, Your Majesty?"

Gardinels shifted uncomfortably. Rhian dropped her head, but not before I caught the hint of a smile cross her face.

"That is a rude question."

"It was asked in response to a rude statement, Your Majesty."

Ancelin scowled. Tristan's mouth twitched.

"And what future is there for the Selkie Kingdom once the war ends?" A voice called out.

Several rows of selkie females, members of the Advisory Council, sat in the first tier balcony to my right. Sian stood, dark chocolate hair shining under the lights. Solemn face, twinkling eyes.

"I believe the King is worried about what the future holds for his people," she said.

I straightened. "Your kingdom will have a future where sons, brothers, and fathers won't leave behind families. Children won't study human and elemental life for military purposes, but simply as a culture. It'll be a future in which every selkie defines the life he wishes for himself."

I caught Tristan's gaze. Royal mask kept his face expressionless, but dark eyes glowed with fire.

I believe in you.

"Someone is killing ondines," another voice spoke up. "If you're the
sondaleur
, you're supposed to find this traitor and end the war. How can we trust you when the murders continue?"

It was the question I'd dreaded. Yesterday's failed strike not only brought devastation, but it also meant the traitor and Aquidae had once again eluded our grasp.

I studied the faces in the audience. Some hopeful, others skeptical.

All awaiting an answer.

My life had always been about proving something. To my mother. To Haverleau and elementals.

The Manhattan Lieutenant said I was the central character in a narrative that had built around me.

You don't even know what you're protecting!

Who protects the protectors?

Amber and Sian's words had left an indelible impression, a reminder that the Lieutenant was wrong.

This wasn't about me.

I thought of how no one had ever stood in front of Tristan; how Ian quietly continued his work for elementals while surrounded by hostile eyes.

The ferocity of Renee's expression when she entrusted Helene to me.

My definition of what being
sondaleur
meant had to change.

I gestured to Aubrey and her skin turned the same shade as her hair.

"An ondine walked into a nest of Aquidae without magic. She lost an arm, but her bravery saved our children. A group of nixes risk daily scorn and ridicule so they may use their talents to help rather than harm."

I stepped forward and spread my arms. "Countless chevaliers and gardinels protect us everyday. Humans who have no stake in our war risk their lives for us. Yesterday, an ondine fought off an Aquidae that killed two demillirs.

"The
sondaleur
is not the only one who fights for everyone. Not even close." My voice turned hard. "But I am the one who protects those who fight, those who display bravery whether it's in a Council Chamber, a classroom, a library, or on the battlefield. If you have a problem with it, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Hundreds of pairs of eyes watched me. Nobody argued.

"And I have something to say to you." Eyes scanned the hall. "The coward who lies hidden among us."

Virtue lightly pulsed through tangled emotional threads.

Nothing stood out. But I knew he was here.

Listening.

"You work with evil to kill our own. You have deceived, betrayed, and preyed on the trust of others. You placed the lives of the most innocent at risk."

I planted my feet at the edge of the stage. Hands fisted by my side.

"There is nowhere you can hide. I will find you. That is a promise."

***

I strode out the side door, hurrying to clear the corridor before the audience spilled out.

"
Sondaleur
."

Rhian moved slower than she used to, but her voice still had enough strength to stop me in my tracks.

She halted, face expressionless, icy hazel eyes studying me.

"Good."

Pride bloomed in my chest. "Thank you."

She nodded. "I'll see you tonight."

"With bells on."

Her mouth quirked up a little before she returned to the hall. I was on a roll.

A quick glance at the time told me I was behind schedule. I hurried over to the infirmary and was greeted by Daniel's overly dramatic sigh.

"Don't tell me. You spoke at the forum, were attacked by the Governing Council, and now have a fracture, a clot, and the beginnings of a concussion."

Was I really that bad? "Sorry, not this time."

"Good. I've had enough work this week to shave twenty years off my life." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Chloe's already here."

"Thanks, Doc."

He retreated into the office, mumbling something about a drink. I settled into a chair and waited for Chloe.

After what happened last night, it was clear the Aquidae who attacked Jesse's office were under the direct command of the traitor.

Tristan had tightened security along the ward boundaries. Gardinels monitored every possible entry point.

Dread continued to grow by the hour. I rubbed my chest attempting to ease the tightness and wishing the answers would simply come.

Why now? Why these ondines? Why attack Jesse?

The questions highlighted how well-hidden the traitor and Shadow were. It was like blindly stumbling through the dark with no hint of where the next attack would come from. My body was a frozen block of tension.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Chloe came out. Worry etched into her delicate face.

I stood. "How is she?"

"Her mom and Marquisa Rosamund are in there." She shook her head. "Nothing."

Amber had clammed up, unable or unwilling, to speak since the incident last night.

Disappointment flooded me. If Chloe, with her tact and talent, couldn't get Amber to talk, it'd be impossible for me to question her.

Amber's mother stormed out, face mottled red. "This is your fault."

"Marquisa Blanchard," Chloe murmured. "With all due respect —"

"How dare you speak to me?" Eyes narrowed to slits. "Daughter of a traitor."

I wanted to shove her away but Chloe didn't flinch.

"I'm sorry about your daughter." Her voice was rich with empathy. "This must be very painful for you."

For a brief moment, the Marquisa faltered. Then she redirected her anger at the person she really hated.

"You." She turned toward me. Powerful waves of fury radiated off her. "You brought her into that program. Things have been falling apart from the moment she entered. She wanted to end the binding with Dylan. She wanted to leave Haverleau, fight in the war, do things she never had interest in before. You did this!"

I forced myself to meet her accusing gaze. "I gave her a choice."

Something flickered in eyes the same shade of green as her daughter.

"You're just like your grandmother," she said. "Believing we can end this godforsaken war. How can we win something when we've already lost? At what cost?"

I had no answer for her. I only knew that not ending the war would cost higher.

"I'm taking her home in an hour. She needs rest, time to think things through..."

Her voice suddenly cracked and an icy clump of pain settled in my chest.

Chloe gently touched her back. "That sounds like a good idea. In the meantime, why we don't we get some tea?"

She guided her toward Daniel's office and I slumped against the wall, feeling drained.

I'd spoken with certainty in the Royal Hall because elementals needed to hear that right now. But I was beginning to understand the doubts my grandmother once spoke of.

Imagining an army of ondines fighting alongside gardinels and chevaliers was one thing.

It was another thing to see Aubrey's pained frustration as she awkwardly typed with her prosthesis. To accept Amber's muteness as the entire landscape of her future shifted before her in a second.

The door opened again and Marquisa Rosamund stepped out.

Oh, God.

Light blue eyes met mine. Something wild and raw swirled in their depths.

Before I could express sympathy for her loss, she grabbed my hands.

"Thank you."

I blinked. The exact opposite of what Marquisa Blanchard said.

Virtue brushed against her and I recoiled at the emotion flooding her.

Relief.

Maybe from obtaining a freedom she thought she'd never have. Or the knowledge her son wouldn't be on the receiving end of his father's fists.

Or from the satisfaction that Nicolas could no longer ease his misery by inflicting it on others.

Whatever the reason, she was happy her husband and son were gone.

She suddenly released my hands as if realizing she'd said too much and rearranged her expression to be suitably mournful.

But it was too late to unsee it.

Repulsion shot through me. I hastily entered Amber's room and shut the door on her disturbing face.

The room was so quiet. Every breath I took seemed like a loud disruption.

A small blonde figure huddled on the window seat, knees pulled close to her chest.

"Heard you're leaving today."

She didn't reply.

The problem was I'd forgotten. Like the memories that evaporated over time or the way Renee's mortal essence faded as she became immortal.

I'd forgotten what it was like the first time I faced Aquidae. The terrible fear and rage. The uncertainty as Tristan's sharp form whipped around the corner in a confined San Aurelio alley.

I'd forgotten that most people weren't like me, used to pain, fights, and violence. That was a normality established by my mother.

Amber grew up never wanting for money, a privileged life secluded within the gates of Haverleau, where her greatest dilemma was the social spectrum of the Academy cafeteria.

It wasn't a world of blood and death.

I'd brought her into my world and for the first time, I wondered if I'd been selfish to do so.