Alex didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she summoned A’enara and the weapon appeared in a blaze of glory.
“This blade has many names,” Alex told the elders. “One of which is the ‘Bringer of Light’. Perhaps that means something, perhaps it doesn’t. But for whatever reason, the prophecy was spoken to me and I was assured that I will understand what it means when the time comes.” She eyed them all carefully. “I believe that time is coming. You can’t ignore the prophecy, just as I can’t. I’m begging you to reconsider your decision and join us in the fight against Aven.”
For a long moment, all they did was stare at Alex. Then Azalia spoke.
“An apocalyptic future vision given to you by a sentient library and a vague prophecy from an otherworldly race, that’s the extent of your warning?”
Through clenched teeth, Alex said, “Along with a reminder of Aven’s hatred towards mortals—hatred that he can now act upon using his Claimed army.”
“And yet, you can offer us no proof of this army,” Azalia said.
Alex felt as if they were going around in circles, since they’d already covered this during her previous appeal. But still, she responded, “That’s because anyone in the army is Claimed and would only answer with what Aven wants them to say.”
“I see,” Azalia said, tapping her chin with a sharp-nailed finger. “What if there was someone from his so-called Claimed army who could testify against your accusations? Someone who isn’t Claimed and who could provide assurances that we here at Graevale are safe? Prophecy or not, future vision or not, what would you say then?”
Alex answered with the truth. “There is no such person.”
“Wrong, Alexandra,” came a cultured, masculine voice, and she spun around to see Marcus Sparker step into view. “Though, I must say, I am fascinated by everything you’ve shared with the venerable elders. Such a vivid imagination you have.”
Alex stumbled backwards, her hand flying to her mouth in shock and dismay. The vision, the prophecy—he’d overheard everything. Fear withered her insides at the knowledge of what it meant… and the realisation that she might as well have shouted the news to Aven himself.
No, no, no, she thought desperately. But she had no time to dwell on her dread, since he wasn’t finished speaking—indeed, he’d barely begun.
“I saw my son as I was walking through the Obscuria earlier,” Marcus told her, as if they were having a friendly discussion. “He didn’t see me, distracted as he was—not surprising, given his attention was solely focused on the princess. My son, it seems, has good taste. If I don’t get the chance myself, please pass along my felicitations to them both.”
At the thought of Marcus so much as looking at Jordan, Alex lost it. It was only because Marcus and Natasha had called him back to their ancestral home that Aven had been able to Claim him. Jordan’s parents had also lied about his brother Luka being alive, but whether that was because they were Claimed themselves or just horrible people, Alex didn’t know.
“You stay the hell away from Jordan,” Alex hissed, hands fisted by her sides, the throbbing in her wound just fuelling her anger. “You stay away from all of us, you foul bast—”
“Language, Alexandra,” Marcus interrupted, appearing amused but for his icy eyes. “We are in esteemed company, after all.”
“Marcus Sparker arrived while we were considering your warnings,” Radek informed Alex.
“A coincidence of timing, I’m sure,” Marcus stated so smoothly that Alex had to swallow back bile.
“He assures us that Aven’s wrath is only aimed towards your race, not ours,” Azalia said. “Meya is no enemy to Graevale.”
Alex couldn’t believe they were willing to trust Marcus’s word over hers. “He’s lying!”
“Is he Claimed by Aven?” Saber asked, the pale-eyed Shadow Walker appearing to be the only one of the elders willing to consider Alex’s warnings.
“I—I don’t know,” she admitted, and without attempting to Claim him herself in order to Release him, Alex wasn’t sure how else to check. “But I’m presuming so. And even if he’s not, he’s so deep in Aven’s pocket that he’d say or do whatever he’s told. He let Aven Claim his own son. You absolutely cannot trust anything he tells you.”
Radek tsked. “You are very cynical for a mortal, but we’ve heard enough. Meya offers us assurances while you offer whimsical visions and insubstantial prophecies.”
“But—”
“We made you an offer, Alexandra,” Azalia interrupted. “You earned your way into standing before us to share your warnings, but that was all we promised. There is nothing more we can do for you.”
“You have to—”
“There is nothing more we will do for you,” Azalia clarified. “It is time for you and your companions to leave Graevale. And know this: you will not be welcome amongst the Shadow Walkers should you decide to return.”
Alex tried one last time. “Please, you need to listen—”
“Come, Alexandra,” Caspar Lennox interrupted quietly, having stepped up silently beside her. “It is time to return to the academy.”
Knowing her teacher was aware of the stakes and yet he was pulling her away, Alex felt heartsick with dejection. The elders weren’t going to change their minds. And without the Shadow Walkers agreeing to an alliance, the Dayriders wouldn’t, either. And the Flips and the Jarnocks wouldn’t fall into line. Everything Alex had worked towards had all been for nothing.
Biting hard on her cheek to keep from revealing the devastation she felt, Alex turned and followed Caspar Lennox towards the staircase. Just before she descended and moved out of sight, she looked over her shoulder one last time. Ignoring Marcus’s fake compassion—something that appeared genuine enough to nearly fool even her—she made eye contact with the elders and whispered, “You mightn’t be willing to stand with us, but when the time comes and you need our help, we will come.”
And, after taking in Azalia’s arched eyebrow, Radek’s bored features and Saber’s still pensive expression, Alex followed her teacher from the balcony, collected her friends and returned to the academy, leaving her hopes crashing and burning back in Graevale.
That night during Alex’s training with Athora and Kaiden, she was distracted, her mind filled with anger and hurt and hopelessness so intense it was crushing.
Her friends had been outraged by the elders’ decision, and Jordan had been horrified to learn of his father’s involvement. The shadows in his eyes had returned with a vengeance, and D.C. and Bear had still been consoling him as Alex had made her flimsy excuses to escape for her secret Library lesson, claiming she was off to deliver the bad news to Kyia and Zain—which she was, just not until after her time with Athora.