Chương 44: Interrogation (Discoveries)

We're greeted outside of the Enclave. Even though we split up earlier when back up arrived and they took the caravan containing Dendrak on a different route to the Enclave. It was supposed to be an attempt to avoid suspicion, but it seems that Aarron is highly suspicious of us himself. Which is good, considering the feeling is mutual. He's just as imposing as usual. His hair rakes the top of his eyebrows as he watches each and every one of us dismount.

A couple of our stable hands slip around and covertly take the reins from each of us. I know Jax is in good hands here, at least. There isn't any sort of vibration emanating from Aarron that would allow me to assess his mood through the ground. Nor is he breathing or inhaling with a weird tempo. Everything about him appears to be calm and stony. Only I'm certain that's not the case. His eyes are anything but calm. He's angry. I can only hope it's not directed at us.

But instead directed toward the Blood Sect and their irritating machinations. I flex my fingers briefly, feeling my pouch like a measure of security. It's the one thing that I can always count on. Even though I now have magic with me too, my poisons have always been here. They've always done exactly what I created them to do. Completely reliable. Not like the human explosion I accidentally made yesterday. It's easier to ground myself when I know that I have everything with me.

Even if we might have run out of my potent healing potions on the trip, at least we didn't lose too many people.

"It's good that most of you made it back," Aarron finally says curtly and leads us into the Enclave. He stops several steps in.

"You need to go see Lennick, Sevrin." Sevrin lets out a sigh, but I think he's secretly relieved that he doesn't have to sit through a lecture. One we all know is coming.

"You too, Lareny." Aarron's tone is insistent. But like I've mentioned already—Lareny is stubborn.

"No," she says simply.

"Taria took care of me. Lennick has work to do with Sevrin. I will sit in on this." Aarron locks gazes with her for several moments before finally looking away. From the tension in his shoulders, I can see how pissed off he is. But arguing with Lareny doesn't get any of us anywhere. Unless you're me and you can brute force heal her against her will. Putting it that way makes it sound far less noble. A few minutes later and the five of us are crammed into Aarron's office.

He takes a seat and puts his chin on his hands, glancing around at all of us. Like he's assessing us, putting us to task or something. Finally, he lets out a long-suffering sigh.

"Who knew about Taria?" Well, that wasn't the question I wanted him to start with. Xalin steps forward and clears their throat.

"I did. I was there when she initially discovered what she could do." There's a fearlessness in their stance that I'm unused to seeing.

"Why didn't you report it to me? After all, I think it's in the damn rules of the Order!" It's one of the only times I've ever heard Aarron raise his voice, but apparently, it's not going to be the last.

"' Must inform the Prefect of any information that could lead to upheaval within the Order.'" He practically shouts the line that's in the rule book. It's not like we don't know it's there; he didn't need to repeat it. Xan cringes, but stands their ground, head held high. After a few moments, Aarron composes himself and takes a deep breath.

"So. I would like to know why you thought it not pertinent to tell me of this development."

"To be honest, sir"—there's a lilt to the way Xan says it that denotes a lack of respect—"it didn't strike me as anything that could cause upheaval in the order. Unless you think Taria, and all her poison knowledge and plant affinities are already a danger of upheaval to the Order. In which case I apologize for not knowing that." Ouch. Aarron glowers. He can't call me out like that. My distilling and brewing methods have only strengthened our standing when it comes to all thing's alchemy.

The words pull from him begrudgingly.

"Fine. I see your point."

"And furthermore, she's proven her usefulness over and over." Xalin shifts their weigh ever so slightly, standing taller, not cowing down.

"Her will to get this newfound ability under control before telling others made complete sense to me. What use would it be if she revealed her newfound power, only to have it backfire or damage her surroundings by accident?" Aarron's expression resembles a thundercloud for several seconds. Then he takes a breath, calms himself, and speaks.

"For future reference, I would define this as upheaval." At least Aarron's reasonable tone has returned. So much about this whole situation tells me we dodged an arrow. There's a buildup of stress in the room that still feels like it's about to hit boiling point. Tension fades from Lareny's shoulders. I think she'd been about to leap to our defense. Not to mention the voices in my head are in overdrive. Whisperings I can't quite decipher. Words flowing into one another.

The elements are having a field day, and my head feels like it's about to explode. Anger. Derision. Wariness.

"Lennick was aware, too. Which I'm sure you've figured out by now." Lareny grimaces as she moves. I'm aware she still has some residual pain in her side, but I've been checking it twice a day and I think she'll heal up well. Especially once we get some more potions into her. It would appear that internal injuries are tricky. Aarron nods.

"We've had…words." I'm growing impatient. This is grandstanding and quite simply bullshit. All he has to do is speak plainly and rationally. Just get to the point.

"Aarron. Just speak to me. I'm standing right here. I know you knew anyway." His gaze finds me and bores down on me.

"Excuse me?" I fight the urge to gulp in front of him and return the stare.

"You saw where I discovered what I could do. You can't tell me you didn't find the initial burial site?" A flash of surprise crosses his face lightning fast before it's gone. His mask back in place, he finally replies: "I wasn't exactly sure what happened, but it didn't look like they were buried by conventional means." If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. He stops and rises from his desk, venturing out to walk around me, to observe me.

I hate feeling like a piece of meat.

"What?" I ask, my patience at this charade wearing thin.

"It takes it out of you, doesn't it?" he asks, and his tone is fascinated. There's a flare up of his aura, just briefly, and the only sensation I get from it before it's gone is Greed. Hunger. It's like he and I are the only people in the room. As if he's forgotten Lareny, Xan, and Mithris are even there. I'm unsure why, but I shiver. That gaze in his eyes is predatory, but not in the uncomfortable sexual sense. He's not leering at me. It's not that.

No, this feels more like he is the hunter, and I am a type of prey. It's not a sensation I relish.

"It drains me. Depending on what I attempt with it and what I have done up until then." He frowns, taking in the information. It's as if he knows I'm withholding from him yet can't give away that he knows. Because if he does, it raises more questions than it answers. What I want to know is how he does know more than that? Again, I have the sneaking suspicion that he has powers himself, and yet keeps them hidden. Really well hidden, at that. The biggest question in my mind is why?

"We need to test the boundaries. You're need to get stronger. Fast."

"Tell me something I don't know," I say. I don't mean to be rude, but it's pretty obvious that the magic in the world is being tainted. Infected by force and twisted by things that shouldn't be able to harness such power. Ignoring Aarron's glare, I continue.

"There have to be others who can tap into this. Magic was never dead, just concealed." There's silence so loud in here it's almost deafening. Perhaps I shouldn't have made that statement. It's more of a guess, really. While not ill informed, it is mostly made up of supposition, and I can't prove any of it yet.

"What do you mean by that?" Lareny's voice is full of wonder. Apparently Lennick hasn't told her everything. At the same time, Mithris shifts his weight and leans forward. That's as loud a declaration as he's likely to make while he's just in observer mode. It's a slight challenge. As if he's calling Aarron out, wanting the Prefect to reveal more than he's ready to. Aarron, is not the quiet one, however. He scoffs. Quite loudly.

"That's preposterous. You can't seriously believe that magic has been lying dormant this whole time." Xan shrugs and jumps in before I can.

"Why not? It's certainly been eager to have someone wield it." Before Aarron can discipline my friend, who seems to have forgotten their place, I speak up.

"The magic is sort of sentient. It has memories, knowledge, and eagerness. There's a part of it so happy to have someone who can finally wield it. It's a very strange sensation." I leave it there. A part of me still feels like I might have said too much. The ground beneath me quavers. A gentle rolling feeling, sort of like shaking in mild fear. I'm not sure if it's directly related to Aarron, or to the fact that I'm airing out all our secrets. Perhaps it's a bit of both.

"It senses you?" Aarron's tone is full of skepticism. One of his eyebrows is half raised, and he's crossing his arms now that he's standing up.

"That's a little far-fetched, isn't it?" I shrug, suddenly on alert. Why would my being able to wield magic be acceptable, but not that the magic has a personality? It's okay for me to suddenly have magic powers, but not okay for magic to have been a secret? None of this adds up, and it's beginning to bug me. This time I allow myself a small smile. Fine. If that's the way we're going to be. Don't tell me what you know, and I'll keep you in the dark too. We can keep at this all week.

"I mean, half the time it makes me dizzy to access the power. So it could just all be in my head." Xan is doing their best not to break into laughter from off to Aarron's right, and it's all I can do not to glare at them.

"It's only been just over a month since I realized I could do this. I still have a lot to learn."

"Pity there's no one who can teach you," Aarron mutters under his breath. It's not subtle. He fully intended for me to hear what he's saying. And there's a haze about him, like it's just beyond my reach to read.

"I know. It would be much easier if there were someone alive who also had access to this earthen magic. Not the Blood Sect, of course. That's not real magic." I'm focused on Aarron, and I swear I see him flinch as I say that. Interesting. Taking a brief breath, I continue on.

"Blood magic isn't natural—as far as I can tell. Not that I'm an expert yet or anything." I add the latter in a self-deprecating manner. I may not be an expert yet, but I can read the lay of the land, as it were. Blood magic is coercion. It goes against the natural order of life, of everything. I know for a fact that magic despises the Blood Sect users even as nature is forced into giving over its powers. It makes me wonder just how that works. Yet another thing to research. Aarron's expression is closed to me.

I can't tell anything from the perfect mask he's erected over his expression. Nothing leaks out. Not his aura, nothing for me to latch onto and interpret. The air around him appears to be almost offended that it can't figure him out. Below him, the earth is much the same. It seems there's a lot more to our Prefect than meets the eye.

"Very well." He seats himself back behind the desk and leans back like he's all relaxed now and the subject is done away with. But it's not, I can tell. Aarron is annoyed. He's anything but relaxed. It makes me want to shake him until he spills everything he knows. He can't actually be Blood Sect, right? He's just as incensed as us at the attack on Sorrishen. But I do slot the thought into the back of my mind. Along with an ever-growing din of voices.

"The prisoner has been delivered to the interrogation room," Aarron states, completely changing the subject. In a way, that's odd, because magic being real is a big deal. But he's dismissed it now and moved on. Maybe he's always had his suspicions. Mithris pushes himself to standing, an ever-so-brief glance directed my way. From his stance and the way the air flows from and around him, I think he's trying to tell me to leave it be. To not bring up the magic again.

Ten days working closely with Mithris, and I'm inclined to listen to him.

"Sevrin should be able to get some information out of him," Lareny offers, moving closer to the desk herself. Aarron shakes his head.

"He's far too injured for that. Even with the expedited healing, that arm is going to put him out days, if not weeks. He can't fight or scout at full force that way." Mithris sighs and leans against the desk.

"Fine. I'll do it. Unless Deshan is willing to take a crack?" Aarron's eyes narrow.

"Deshan is currently otherwise occupied." Mithris nods and doesn't miss a beat as he cracks his neck to one side.

"Excellent idea, then. I shall undertake the first session. Would you like to join me?" He peers at Aarron as he asks the question. Something about his aura, about the way he holds himself, makes it seem like he's challenging Aarron. Now I'd pay to see that. I think Aarron might find that fight more difficult than expected.

"Very well." Aarron's expression is tight.

"How long until the narcotic wears off then?"

"Sunset. So we have a few hours," I say without really meaning to. But I'm the one who drugged him, and thus I'm the one responsible for Dendrak's care, even if he's a lying, cruel bastard who tried to kill most of us in this room. He'll get what's coming to him eventually. Karma. Or a poison dart in the neck once we've got the information we need. Much of a muchness, really.

"Dismissed," Aarron says. It's not usually something he says out loud. With him, it's often more implied as he falls silent. Probably with Lareny and Mithris, he doesn't want to leave it open to interpretation. They are the only two people I think I've ever heard say no to the Prefect. Then he adds.

"Except Taria." Well, I could have seen that one coming a mile away, blindfolded. Xan glances at me, but I nod. There's nothing Aarron can do to me that I can't defend myself against. I have poisons, knives, and even handy stone surroundings that I can turn into a coffin for him if necessary. The thought gives me a lot of strength. Even if it's an odd one for me to have given my history. Until a short while ago, I had the utmost respect for Aarron. Even fear of him.

Yet with this turn of events and the gut feeling that there's something he's hiding, all of that has dissipated. Aarron waits, shuffling papers before finally letting out a sigh and looking up at me from his desk.

"You know you should have told me." It's such a cold statement of fact that it irks me. A part of me wants to scream out"Well, maybe you should have told me when I first arrived here." But that would mean I play my hand. That I let him know just how much I've learned. And there's still too much I'm not certain of. I know he was one of the men behind my parents' deaths. Because he was the Prefect of the order at the time. Therefore, he knew why they were killed. Thus, he accepted my tithe with an ulterior motive.

If only the puzzle pieces were easier to find.

"Perhaps. But I didn't know much yet. And not being a mage, there's nothing you could have done to help me." My own statement is calculated, and I watch him intently for any signs. Something flickers across his expression, but I can't discern what it is.

"Beside the point. It's more about letting me know that I have a ticking time bomb in my Enclave that could effectively swallow the whole thing if someone angers you too much." His tone is clipped, barely unrestrained anger on his part. Interesting. I shrug, never taking my gaze from his. There's too much at stake here, no matter how much I'd prefer to look away. After all, he should know I usually have a great handle on my rage.

"That wasn't a problem as far, as I'm concerned. My only fear like that is that someone ambushes me, and I react in self-preservation without thinking it through enough." His eyes narrow.

"Keep me apprised. I need to know what you can do."

"Why?" Because damn it, I want to hear him say it. But he avoids my question with another brief glare.

"Gather your year mates and head down to watch Mithris work. It'll be good experience." He clearly dismisses me as he bends his head to study another report on his desk. There's so much I want to say, but don't. Fine. I guess I'll just have to go watch a master torturer at work.