Page 47 of Seas the Reckoning

He smiles, staring down at it for a moment.

“It is.”

“What does it signify, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The pen was altered from the original seal, which used to have a quill. Our family has always been successful in business. Running multiple merchant companies generations ago. The dragon is because an ancestor several generations ago had one captive who guarded our wealth for us. That was back when our holdings were more tangible. Rubies, gold bars, goblets, things like that. No need for that now with virtual banking.”

I swallow down the desire to be physically ill at his casual reference to enslaving another living being.

“Nowadays, we’re just known for guarding our status and reputation, as a dragon guards its hoard.”

Screams erupt around us, and I freeze. Claude drops his arms, stepping between me and the direction of the shouting. I’m not sure whether that’s actually chivalry or a desire to get closer to the action.

Either way, I duck around him so I can see what’s causing the commotion.

Through the large windows that overlook the east gardens, I can see flames shooting into the sky.

19

TRIO OF FLAMES

The crowd can’t decide what to do, which only adds to the mayhem.

A few bold individuals rush to the windows to see what’s happening. A small number are frozen in indecision. A much larger portion of the guests run for the main exit at the opposite end of the ballroom, which puts Claude and me in the path of the stampede.

“You should find Starla and take cover,” Claude tells me, running to the window.

“I demand to know what is going on here!” Councilman Taylor is stomping across his ballroom floor, blond hair askew for the first time since we’ve met.

A crash sounds, and one of the floor-to-ceiling windows splinters inward as a fireball hits it.

More screams fill the ballroom.

Councilman Taylor ducks, and one of the men who was near the window begins hopping from foot to foot, patting out flames on his suit.

“This was French couture!” he shouts.

I will never understand these people.

The councilman collects himself, continuing on his path to the garden doors and remaining windows, but comes to a stop again when a disembodied voice booms above us.

“My, my, my. Quite the festivities. Or should I say, quite the felonies?”

I freeze again, a chill running down my spine. I know this voice.

Did they call Never? The Were is chaos incarnate. Now that we’re deep into the plan, I can’t imagine she won’t throw things for a loop.

“Several of you have been very, very naughty. And the price for your actions has come due.” The second voice is new, and whoever it is, she giggles. “Oh, this is fun. I mean, I know we thought it would be, but⁠—”

“Hell’s bells. What did we say about keeping it short? Listen up! If you’ve done nothing wrong you have nothing to fear. Not very reassuring, is it? But in this case, it’s true. We’re only here to burn away the rot.”

Another arc of fire shines through the windows, lighting up several shrubs. The flames creep in, igniting some of the garlands. At least one guest must be a water witch, because she shoots a spray up toward the garlands, where the flames go out with a sizzle.

I’m spinning, looking around the room to see if the Were and her accomplice are anywhere to be seen. Not only do I not spot her, but I can’t see Ji-hwan, Starla, or Exos. I do see Jackal sliding out a door that leads to the foyer. He makes eye contact with me, mouthing a word.

“Okay.”

Then this is, indeed, all part of the plan. That means I’m wasting valuable time.