The Wood Queen (15 page)

Simon called the room to order in his most pompous voice, causing Navin to catch her eye and smirk. Trying not to giggle, Donna was glad of the distraction. She was also incredibly relieved that he was allowed to attend the verdict. It was nice to have someone in the room who was genuinely on her side.

The moment of truth had finally arrived, and she knew she should be paying more attention, but she was exhausted after last night. Xan had fixed up her foot pretty well, and then driven her home at her insistence. As
tempted as she’d been to stay out all night, perhaps to punish Aunt Paige, Donna had thought better of it.

Okay, if she were honest, she didn’t really feel like staying with Xan after the revelation that he and Ivy knew each other. Clearly they’d been involved in some way beyond a mentor-student relationship, but really, she wasn’t jealous. It wasn’t that.

Not exactly. It had more to do with the fact that here they were, yet again, with something major that Xan hadn’t told her about. Donna didn’t think he had a duty to inform her of every past female friend or girlfriend, but considering his close connection with Ivy—and how he’d suffered after he thought she’d died—Donna did wonder that it hadn’t rated more than a brief mention. She wasn’t sure if he and Ivy had actually been
together
, but that wasn’t the point.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have more important things to worry about right now. Apart from dealing with whatever the verdict was, she needed to find a way to use her weird new teleporting powers to open the door to Faerie. These two things really didn’t seem related, but she only had the rest of the day to figure out how she was going to uphold her part of the bargain with Aliette—it was either that, or lose her mother forever.

Quentin nodded at Simon as he slowly stood up and faced the cramped room, the small space filled to bursting with the representatives from all four Orders. Simon rocked gently on the edge of his seat, almost as if he was
preparing himself to jump up and object loudly if he didn’t agree with the verdict.

Though, of course, he would already know what that verdict was. Donna’s heart pounded as she tried to get Robert to look at her, wondering if she’d imagined the brief moment of camaraderie they’d shared in the Brown Room that first day. The young alchemist was busy shuffling through papers, however, and she watched curiously as he handed a few sheets to Miranda Backhouse. They didn’t seem particularly engaged in the proceedings, but before Donna could try to figure out what they were doing, Quentin’s voice made her sit up and listen, all her attention now focused on his lined face.

“The Order of the Dragon speaks for all the alchemists gathered in this room. Are you in agreement?”

A murmur of agreement passed from alchemist to alchemist, each representative nodding in response to the familiar words of ritual.

Quentin cleared his throat, keeping his gaze straight ahead. His expression was impossible to read. “As Archmaster of the Dragon alchemists, and as the duly appointed spokesperson of all gathered here today, it is my duty to give voice to the verdict reached by the representatives from the Orders of the Dragon, Crow, Lion, and Rose.”

She sighed as Quentin listed her “crimes” against the Order once more for the record. Donna tapped her foot and wished to be anywhere but here, wondering if her bizarre new abilities might choose this moment to whisk
her off to some other place. No matter how scary and painful it was, even that might be preferable to
this
.

“It is the decision of this hearing that the pre-initiate, Donna Underwood, will be apprenticed to the Order of the Crow as soon as she has graduated from high school.”

Donna couldn’t stop herself; her legs propelled her to her feet even before her brain had fully engaged with what she was doing. “What? You’re sending me to
London
?”

Her knees felt weak and her head had that horrible pins-and-needles feeling that meant she might be about to faint. Black dots swam before her eyes and she made a grab for the back of her chair to steady herself.

“Sit down, Donna,” Aunt Paige said, her voice firm but not unkind.

Donna had the urge to give her aunt the finger, to scream at her and tell her that she didn’t have to listen to her anymore. Not after the fight they’d had … the one that neither of them had mentioned. Yet.

She took a deep breath and looked desperately at Quentin. “But—”

Simon glared at her. “Show respect for the Archmaster and sit, young lady!”

Feeling sick, Donna wordlessly slid back into her seat. She hated doing anything that Simon told her to do, but she honestly thought she might fall over if she didn’t sit down again. There’d be time to ask questions later—time to find out what the hell her aunt had agreed to on her behalf. But,
oh my God
, she thought, her mind racing with
too many things at once. London? What were they doing? What about Xan?

And what about Nav?
She looked up and found herself gazing into her best friend’s brown eyes—eyes filled with growing shock and anger that mirrored her own. With an effort, she dragged her gaze away and tried to focus on the rest of Quentin’s words.

“Specifically, Donna will be apprenticed as an initiate, under the supervision of Miranda Backhouse, for a period of one year—to begin with. Miranda is in need of a new apprentice since the graduation to full adept of her previous charge, Robert Lee.”

At this, Donna looked across the room to where the lanky young alchemist sat slouched next to Miranda.

“Donna will aid in the creation of a new Philosopher’s Stone, so that the Order of the Crow can work on creating a fresh sample of the elixir.” Quentin paused and met her shocked gaze. “This has been decreed and voted upon unanimously, and is deemed fair in light of the loss of our most precious commodity.”

Her throat tightened and, although she was horrified at the thought of being effectively exiled, Donna also couldn’t help wondering if this was … right. Maybe she
should
be the one to help create a new elixir. She had, after all, thrown away the last precious drops held by the Order of the Dragon. Okay, so she hadn’t exactly known at the time that it had been the last remnants of the priceless elixir, but that wasn’t the point. She’d been willing to risk everything that the alchemists had worked for centuries to
protect, both from the population at large (in order to stop wars being fought between humans over the potential for immortality) and from the fey (who were becoming more interested in what little power the alchemists still held).

Quentin leaned heavily on the dragon-carved lectern. “Miranda Backhouse would like to say a few words.”

The petite woman rose from her seat and began speaking, formal words filled with that quiet strength and power that Donna had noticed the first day of the hearing. She listened as Miranda outlined the program of study that would be devised for the newest initiate admitted to the ranks of the Order of the Crow.

Donna let herself imagine really going through with her sentence … which would mean traveling to London and working with this woman. Learning from her. Embracing the destiny that belonged to an Underwood born into the alchemists, and finally learning their true secrets. Because, in truth, she really didn’t know more than a tiny percentage of all there was to discover about the possibilities for alchemy. She now understood the potential for corruption and lies—that much had become clear from her mom’s journal—but surely it wasn’t like that everywhere. Maybe the Order of the Crow was different, even honorable. Perhaps she could fulfil her parents’ ideals in London, far away from Simon and the crumbling remains of the Order of the Dragon.

“And finally, I would like to extend an official and cordial welcome to Donna Underwood.” Miranda turned to face her. “Although you will be joining us under
difficult circumstances initially, we hope you’ll learn to enjoy your time in London. I have much to teach you, and, if I’m honest, I am particularly excited to have the unexpected opportunity to work with such an intelligent young woman.”

She stopped for a moment and smiled, a genuine expression that lit up her face. “It has been a long time since a moon sister was admitted to the Order of the Crow, and we in England have a long affinity with the more powerful of the female alchemists from previous centuries.”

Donna found herself responding to this woman, trying to picture herself in a country so rich in the history of alchemy. If she could just find a way to open the door to Faerie and free her mother from the Wood Queen’s power, maybe she really could get a fresh start.

But there was no way she could think about London now, not with so much at stake. Perhaps later …

Swallowing a wave of sadness, Donna noticed that Miranda was still looking directly at her.

“Donna, do you have anything to say?”

“Um …” She licked her lips as she felt all eyes in the room come to rest on her. Sweat broke out on her forehead; she hated being the center of attention. “I don’t think so.”

Quentin raised his eyebrows. “Come now, Donna. I know this is a potentially uncomfortable situation, but it’s also an opportunity. Surely you have something to say about the future we would like to see you embrace.”

He made it sound like she had a choice, but Donna knew it was just Quentin being courteous—despite what he’d hinted at in the Blue Room yesterday. Sure, he’d said that ultimately Donna could choose her own destiny, but that didn’t mean the Order would make it
easy
for her; in fact, they were making it as hard as possible, and would probably continue to do so for the rest of her life. And if she did manage to save Mom, could she then run off to England and leave her mother here with the Order of the Dragon? What would Mom really want for her?

Donna had never felt so alone.

Miranda had moved to stand directly in front of her, but oddly, Donna hadn’t even noticed her move. She shook herself and looked up into the pleasant, softly lined face of this woman who could become someone important to her in the future—if she went along with the hearing’s verdict and allowed the alchemists to send her away.

Exile
. The word echoed loud and ugly in her mind.

Miranda Backhouse extended a hand and raised thin blond brows at her, a half-smile curving her mouth into something inviting. “Will you join us in London, Donna?”

There it was again: the illusion of choice. It made Donna want to say something nasty and childish, but she found it difficult to be so ungracious in the face of Miranda’s apparent friendliness and open acceptance of an apprentice who could turn out to be a troublemaker.

She took Miranda’s hand and stood. The older woman kept her gloved hand in her own and had to look up, now, to meet Donna’s eyes.

“Are you really giving me a choice?” Donna asked, pitching her voice so that everyone in the room would hear her. She was relieved that it didn’t shake too much, despite the nervous jolt of adrenaline that shot through her.

Miranda’s calm gaze didn’t leave hers, though she did release her hand. “The choice is in whether you will embrace the opportunity for redemption that we offer.”

Donna frowned, her heart beating faster as anger blossomed in her gut. “So there
is
no choice. Not really.” She made it a statement.

Simon rose from his seat beside Quentin’s. “The representative from the Order of the Crow asked you a question, Underwood. Do her the courtesy of a reply. You can whine about it later.”

Quentin’s eyes flashed a warning at his partner and Donna was surprised to see Simon sit back down, fuming quietly to himself. She filed that morsel away for future consideration; she really couldn’t figure out Quentin and Simon’s dynamic.

Swallowing, she did her best to ignore Simon’s unfriendly gaze burning into her and instead turned to her aunt. “Did you agree to this?”

Aunt Paige tucked her dark hair behind her ears and pursed her lips. Her eyes flickered briefly to Quentin, but then met Donna’s. “I abstained from the vote.”

So Aunt Paige hadn’t sold her out after all. Donna knew she should care more about that, but right now she found it hard to care about anything where her aunt was concerned. Not after last night.

She licked her lips and met Miranda’s eyes. “All I can say, if you want me to be truthful, is that I’ll think about it. I understand that I don’t really have a choice, but at the same time …” Here she glanced at Quentin. “At the same time, I could choose to leave the Order entirely.”

A murmur of unrest flowed among the gathered alchemists.

“I’m not saying that’s what I’ll do,” she said, speaking fast. “I’m just saying that this is a lot to take in, and if you really expect me to ‘embrace my destiny’ and move to another country—even if it’s only for a year—I need time to come to terms with it.”

There
, she thought. That sounded reasonable, and she wasn’t committing herself either way.

Simon gave her a nasty smile. “Well, you might want to come to terms with it quickly—you’ll be fast-tracked through graduation and begin your studies in England next month.”

January!
And what did he mean, “fast-tracked” through graduation? Could they even do that? Her shoulders slumped. Of course they could; they were alchemists, and they had money and power. Influence. She only had to take finals at her old high school anyway, and she had no doubt that those could be taken any time the Order chose.

And yet, as she watched understanding grow in Navin’s dark eyes, mirroring her own uncertainty, she realized that she had barely a month left to make some of the most important decisions of her life. Decisions that could hardly
be made without her mother’s advice and guidance—
if
Donna could get her back.

Time was running out. Just a few hours left to save her mom’s soul, and despite the threat of exile hanging over her, she couldn’t think about anything else right now. The only way to change things, as Donna had learned over the last few weeks, was to take matters into her own hands and
make
something happen.