Page 53 of Seas the Reckoning

I gape at the scene, torn between sprinting to a different hall to make sure I don’t miss Starla, watching this play out, and intervening.

Although I don’t think it would be to help Seymour.

Is this one of the moments Grammy Pearl anticipated? Or just coincidence? Councilman Taylor’s personal accountant is bound to have some juicy information on his employer.

My throat is churning with waves of heat, and I’m tempted to sing the truth out of him, but I’m not willing to risk the ability again right now. I’m still light-headed and nauseous from my recent attempt.

“I asked you once before, but you didn’t answer. Who are you?” I say to the woman.

“Who? Not what? Not how much money or which powers? That is how most of these people think.”

“I’m not like these people.” I nearly spit the words, fed up to my ears with the type of people Councilman Taylor keeps company with.

She stomps her heeled foot onto the carpet, and Seymour yelps, pulling his hand back just in time. He was trying to sneak away.

“No, you aren’t. I, Leena, am merely an ending. An ending who can’t end. An Ender, to be specific. I won’t be offended if you haven’t heard of us. And I’m only here to end him.”

“An Ender?”

“I could pay you both! Name your price! Take the girl if you want her. I can easily find another,” Seymour says, voice loud.

My lip curls in disgust as he gestures to the woman on the ground. She’s beginning to stir, and as she moves, her hair slides off her face. Her cheek is bright red, as if she’s been slapped. It’s then that I look closer, noticing bruising around her wrists, and a few marks on her forearms that are shaped like fingerprints. The skin around one of her eyes is purpling.

Flames lick at my throat.

“He did this?” I ask.

“He did,” the Ender confirms.

A vision of Leon flashes through my mind. Men who think power means you can do whatever you want to others. Seymour could very well be the accomplice we’re searching for.

My control snaps.

“You should⁠—”

“I’m going to have to turn you down on your generous offer, Seymour. Money isn’t what I want.”

The pictures on the wall rattle, but nothing else happens, with my song being cut off before I can finish a command. The Ender won’t know it, but she’s just saved me immense pain.

“Then what do you want? I can acquire it,” Seymour insists.

The Ender’s face goes flat. For a moment her eyes mute until they’re more like ash than shining metal.

“What I want, you can’t give me.”

She reaches behind her back and pulls out a sword.

I leap back, teeth sharpening to points on instinct.

I have no idea where she was hiding the weapon. It’s not as if a traditional holster could be hidden in her form-fitting dress.

“Time to go, Seymour. Don’t worry, Leena. I don’t know what you’re working on here, but I won’t complicate things. I can recognize a woman on a mission.”

“Wait!” I step between her and Seymour. She jerks back, a scowl on her face, but she doesn’t move to stop me. “Seymour, have you ever seen a crest with a dragon and pen on it? Do you know if there’s a family whose key involves creating curses?”

He freezes.

The Ender’s eyebrow rises.