Reign of Shadows (Descendants #3)

Brianna couldn’t help but smile at the turn her sister had taken, but it was only half-hearted, because her answer was too real. “We get ready to fight, because the shadows are coming for us. For the Seven.”


Emily kicked the toe of her shoe around the leg of a low table, drawing it close to sit in front of her sister. “Great. I guess if I’m going to be a shadow, now’s as good a time as any.”





Chapter Twelve


Aern


“That is so weird.”

Aern laughed, watching as Emily marveled over the heat radiating from her palm. Her power had begun working almost immediately, and they’d left Brianna alone to recover before she started another round. Emily had been practicing ever since.

“Is it taxing you yet?” he asked.

She considered that, shook her head. “Doesn’t seem to be. I think Brianna must just be working harder than the rest of us.” She pursed her lips. “This is going to take her a while.”

She was right; building a force formidable enough to fight the shadows wasn’t going to be quick. Seth would be next, and Eric. Ellin if she felt up to it. Brianna was going to start with the team leaders, the strongest soldiers, and make as many connections as possible before the men from her visions came. But they still hadn’t found Brendan, and Aern couldn’t help but scour the maps and ledgers once more.

Emily shifted in her chair, the paperwork on Aern’s desk fluttering at the edges before a breeze flipped it into the air. He slapped a hand over the pages, catching all but one before they blew onto the floor. “Maybe you should practice that one over there.”

She glanced doubtfully toward the corner of the room, a shelf of ancient books and documents, some sort of bronze sculpture. “That stuff looks expensive.”

“I would imagine,” Aern said. The Council interiors hadn’t changed much through the last few years. Morgan’s focus, and now Aern’s, had been on the constantly transforming security needs and system upgrades. While Brendan might have been busy procuring art for the Division houses, Council’s only concern was keeping their leaders safe. Not that Brendan hadn’t had ample security, just not at the level of Council. Aern ran a hand over his jaw, knowing that none of it would be enough for what was coming. No amount of prevention would have averted the Westlake property from being reduced to ash.

“How strong do you think you can make it?” he asked.

“In here?” She quirked a brow, surveyed the room again. “I think I could do some major damage, to be honest.”

“I’m thinking of Westlake,” Aern explained. “How many of them do you suppose it took to torch all of that metal and stone?”

Emily glanced at her palms, plainly still not certain she could believe what she was creating with them. “I don’t know, Aern. I mean, I’ve only had this for a few hours. And look …” She pushed a flame to one of the papers on his desk and it lit, burning an irregular corner before he had a chance to smack it out. She wrinkled her nose. “That wasn’t important, was it?”

“But you were only the source of ignition here,” he said. “The amount of heat required to melt steel, how long could you sustain that?”

She leaned forward, planting her heels to the side. “Logan did it.”

He fought a smile at the sudden defense of her skill. “So it’s possible we’re only dealing with one, maybe two shadows for that kind of destruction.”

She sat back, flexing her palm as if it were a strange, new thing. “It does seem possible.” Her eyes met his, as she remembered. “Look what you did to a room full of Morgan’s men.”

He had used the sway on several dozen soldiers at once—convinced them they were no longer loyal to Morgan—and that was what worried him. If the shadows were so much stronger, if one of them could do that much damage, then what were they in for when a band of them showed up to fight the Seven?

“Toast,” Emily said.

Aern looked up at her, torn from his thoughts. “What?”

“Toast,” she repeated. “I could make toast. With. My. Hands.”

He blinked, unsure of the proper response, and then caught sight of movement in the hall. Emily straightened, turning just as the messenger shot through the door. “We’ve got a hit on Brendan.”

Aern stood, slowing only to grab a jacket from its hook on the wall, Emily close behind. They were three steps down the corridor when he felt her doubt, the tug that said she wasn’t sure.

He stopped, looked back. “What is it?”

“Brianna,” she said. “She didn’t want us there, because of her vision.”

Emily had been furious when her sister left them in the dark, but now that it was her decision, she trusted Brianna’s advice. Aern nodded. “We’ll find her first.”

Emily’s head tilted to the side, peering around him, and she raised a finger to point to the end of the corridor. To Brianna, who was already there, Logan in tow.

“It has to be us,” Brianna said. “You stay here and explain to the others, let them know what we plan to do, how we’ll change them. Eric, Wesley, Seth, Ellin. All of them.”

“Kara?” Aern asked.