And that was a light punishment.
I’d been trying hard this whole time not to let myself get lost in those dark memories, but the truth was that even though the conditions were better, being imprisoned in Solantha Palace felt a whole lot like the abuse I’d experienced at Mafiela’s hands as a child. And the same fear I’d felt then dug its icy claws into my chest, dragging me down into the depths of despair.
Stop wallowing in self-pity. You’re better than this!
I knew I was. But I didn’t have the energy to prove it. Tears soaked my pillow as I tried to think of something, anything that would get me out of this place. But all I could envision was my head on the chopping block, the executioner’s ax glinting in the morning sun right before he brought it down on my neck. I had no doubt that Director Chartis was going to do everything in his power to ensure that the death sentence hanging over my head was finally delivered.
Footsteps clopping against the stone floor in the hall drew my attention away from the clouds of misery in my head, and I sat up, hastily wiping the tears and snot from my face with my pillow. The door flew open, and Elgarion marched in along with a bevy of guards, who quickly surrounded me, two of them clamping their hands around my upper arms and dragging me to my feet.
“To the audience chamber,” Elgarion said, tossing me a smug look. “Your judgment is long overdue, and it’s about time someone finally put you out of your misery.”
I tried to struggle as the guards marched me out of the room and down the tower steps, but I barely had the strength to fight off a mouse, never mind a troop of burly men. More tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I held them back with the last of my strength. If I was being taken to the audience chamber, did that mean that the Chief Mage was back, and ready to pass sentence? And that Fenris was there too, and simply ignoring my calls for help?
Elgarion flung the double doors to the audience chamber wide, and I squinted as the bright light assaulted my tear-swollen eyes. But by the time the guards dragged me across the carpet to stand before the Chief Mage’s desk, my eyes had adjusted, and suspicion filled me as I saw that it wasn’t Iannis at all who stood in the Chief Mage’s place, but Director Chartis.
“You!” I pointed an accusing, if shackled, finger at him. “You’re not the Chief Mage. What right do you have to call me here like this?”
Director Chartis splayed his hands on the desk as he leaned forward, leveling me with a stony glare. He was wearing gold and blue robes, the Chief Mage’s colors, which made this whole thing even weirder.
“As the Director of the Mage’s Guild, I have every right to call a hearing in a matter as urgent as this. I act in the Chief Mage’s stead whenever he is away on business.”
“He’s supposed to be back today,” I insisted, though my heart sank at the truth in his words. “Surely he would want to attend to this matter himself.”
Chartis made a slicing motion with his hand, and a buffet of air slapped me in the face. My head snapped to the side, shock running through me as my cheek stung in response.
“Don’t presume that you know the Chief Mage’s mind simply because you’ve spent a few hours with him,” Chartis said coldly. “I am his deputy, and I decide what matters are important enough for him to speak on.”
I frowned. Something didn’t seem right about this. Director Chartis was the one who’d recommended allowing me to appeal the Chief Mage in the first place, because he’d been afraid of the repercussions of not allowing me to speak to him. Yet now he was willing to go behind the Chief Mage’s back?
“This is about the Resistance, isn’t it?” I blurted. “You’re in charge of monitoring their activities in Solantha, and you haven’t gotten very far, have you?” That explained why he was willing to circumvent the Chief Mage – mages did not take failure very well at all.
“Silence!” He air-slapped me again, and my lip split open from the force of the blow. Anger burned in his eyes – the first real emotion other than boredom I’d seen from him, and it shocked me almost as much as the magical blows. “I will ask the questions, and you will answer them.”
I licked my throbbing lower lip, blood coating the tip of my tongue as I eyed him warily. Spots of color rode high on his cheekbones, and his hands on the table were clenched into fists. There must be a lot riding on my answers.
“Who were the three shifters who attempted to breach the wards last night?”
“I have no idea.”
He motioned again, and I staggered back under the force of another slap. “You will answer my questions truthfully.”