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Levian shook her head. “They know of something, but the witches in New York covered up the details rather well. Your witch, Bridgette, would have had a hand in that, I think,” she told Gwendolyn with a soft smile.
Gwendolyn fidgeted with the sleeve of her blue sweater and cleared her throat. “So you didn’t find out anything new?” she asked, the words heavy with anxiousness.
The mage patted her arm softly. “Not exactly. One of the sitting Mages on Council owed me a favor. She’s the only reason I was able to obtain the information I did,” she lamented. “According to her, there is a rumor that a ghost with mirrors for eyes does the High Priestess’s bidding. They say he haunts the acropolis of the Temple of Strye.”
So Aldor was indeed Nestra’s soulless little puppet. Sirus looked to Gwendolyn, whose face had turned deathly pale as she stared down into her lap. Once more, he regretted he’d not torn the cursed creature’s head from his shoulders when he’d had the chance in the Hall of Reflections.
Levian took Gwendolyn’s hand and squeezed it. Sirus tensed. He knew they needed to have this conversation, but it did not make it any easier to see Gwendolyn struggle. It did not make it any easier to know he could not be the one to touch her. His fingers twitched, and he gripped the arms of his chair tighter.
Gwendolyn gave the mage a small, measured smile.
“What else?” Sirus pressed. Gwendolyn’s eyes flicked up to his and back down again. It was enough that his skin grew tight.
Levian’s expression darkened, her gaze drifting as she became lost in thought. “There is a long-brewing struggle for power within the Zephyr Court, it seems. Nestra is a fixture of the Temple, chosen as High Priestess by the Dawn King himself. There were even rumors they were lovers.” She cocked a brow and let out a heavy breath. “It’s said that she tried to get him to kill his queen and take her as his bride instead. To blend the Temple and the bloodline of kings.” She made a sour face. “The queen did die in childbed, but the Dawn King never took Nestra to wife. Thurin loathed the High Priestess and always suspected her involvement in his mother’s death. When Thurin took the throne after his father, the rift grew deeper until the High Court became split. There are those who stand with the High Priestess and those who stand with the throne. Neither of them are quite powerful enough to overthrow the other.”
“So she’s going to try and overthrow the king?” Barith scoffed. “The zephyrs would never go for it. Thurin’s descended from their Dawn King. He can do no wrong in the eyes of his people.”
Levian pulled a wary face. “Thurin is descended from the Dawn King, but his mother is a fae, a fact Nestra apparently often spouts to her more devout within their High Court. She was chosen by the Dawn King. If Thurin falls, all she needs to do is claim divine right to take his seat. He has no heirs—I wouldn’t be surprised to discover she played a hand in that as well. Both are like snakes coiling around each other. Nestra and the Temple against Thurin and his throne. One will win eventually.”
Barith ran his hand through his hair in frustration, matting it over his head. He leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees. “So why won’t the mages help Thurin chuck Nestra out on her arse before she gets the chance to try? They would favor his rule over hers, wouldn’t they?”
Levian scowled.
“They’re waiting,” Sirus cut in. Nestra and King Thurin may have been vipers coiled around each other, but the Council of Mages were snakes themselves. Only they remained hidden in the grasses, waiting to see who would prevail. Waiting to strike when the victor was still weak from battle. There was a reason they did not wish to interfere. At least, not yet.
“And we are the bloodthirsty leeches upon the world,” Niah clipped with disgust. Rath huffed a small sound of agreement.
“If the mages are watching all of this unfold,” Barith posed to Levian, “they just let you waltz in, ask questions and tell them half-truths, then walk back out without a word?”
The mage cocked a brow. “Hardly,” she snarked. “Though some of us are better equipped at handling scaly creatures.”
The dragon snorted and leaned back in his chair.
“The Council already knew much of what I told them about New York and Nestra’s involvement, and they knew I believed she was after something precious and powerful,” she explained. “I gave them morsels enough to whet their interest, but nothing too revealing. They acted as if I’d wasted their time, and I acted as if I were doing them a grand favor by bothering at all. We all played the parts we always play,” she mused with bitterness.
“My contact and I conversed in private after the Council had dispersed. I suspect she only told me what she did to see if I would confirm any of what they knew.”
“They tried to tail her,” Niah threw out. Levian looked daggers at Sirus’s sister, who stood behind Rath’s chair next to his own. The mage had obviously told her not to say anything.
Gwendolyn was startled. “They followed you?”
Levian shrugged. “It’s nothing new. They do it every time I bother to come to them. We all know there’s always an ulterior motive.”
“And?” Barith demanded, not reassured.
“And nothing,” Levian snapped, turning her head sharply toward the dragon, leaning out from her seat to do so. “I took care of it.”
“How?”
“The mage will be lucky if he remembers his own name,” Niah answered for her.
Levian’s expression was harsh, but a little blush of color filled the tops of her cheeks. “It was just a little spell to scramble his memories,” she scoffed. “He’ll remember—eventually.”
Barith grumbled something, and the two of them bickered back and forth until Sirus grew tired of it. “What of Gwendolyn?” he pressed Levian. Those emerald green eyes shot up to his for the second time, and a surge of lightning spread into his bones. Come find me. The words had vibrated through him since the moment she spoke them.
Levian let out a huff. “It was difficult to uncover much,” she admitted reluctantly. “I did not want to give anything away, of course, but I did glean a few things.”
Gwendolyn’s attention fell fully on Levian, her body tense with anticipation.
