Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Also By K.A. Linde
- Kinkadia Map
- Alandria Map
- Pronunciation Guide
- Tribes
- The Celebration
- The Murder
- The Hangover
- The Journey
- The House of Shadows
- The Princess
- The Ball
- The King
- The Wall
- The Court
- The Masquerade
- The Light
- The Plot
- The Healing
- The Training
- The Masters
- The Problem
- The Meeting
- The Assassin
- The Testing
- The Course
- The Season
- The Lord
- The Star
- The Dragons
- The Protest
- The Library
- The Bond
- The Night of the Dead
- The Camp
- The Celebration
- The Suspect
- The Smoke
- The Martyr
- The Arrest
- The Probation
- The Holiday
- The Estate
- The Flight
- The Confession
- The Village
- The Hot Springs
- The Geivhrea
- The Winter Party
- The Heart
- The Blackouts
- The Symptoms
- The Council
- The Rally
- The Aftermath
- The Shift
- The Sickness
- The Spiritcaster
- The Awakening
- The Crux
- The Negotiations
- The River
- The Boats
- The Shadows
- The Battle
- The Defeat
- The Treaty
- The Trial
- The Execution
- The Father
- House of Curses
- Also By K.A. Linde
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
Then the council door opened one more time and two figures stepped through. Kerrigan gasped, and she wasn’t the only one. Alura had one hand on a cane and the other wrapped around her mother. Anya’s eyes were puffy and red, but she helped her daughter maneuver through the council room, looking at no one save her husband.
But Alura… Alura was not okay. She had woken up, but she hadn’t recovered. She leaned heavily on the cane, limping every step and taking an interminable amount of time to cross the room. Despite it all, she was as blank-faced and straight-backed as her father. No pain crossed her visage. Only clear determination. How could someone whose entire identity had been their strength and skill in battle have been decimated so thoroughly? Who would Alura be without it?
Alura and her mother took their seats to a series of whispers cascading around the room. But no sign of fear gave them away. Not even a single tremor.
Then, Presiding Officer Zoh called the council into session.
“Silence, please.” He raised his voice, amplifying it around the room.
The rustle of wings above revealed just how many dragons had come to hear Lorian’s case. The council looked as ill at ease as the dragons high above. Helly was grim-faced. Bastian had his arms folded. Kress couldn’t seem to make eye contact with anyone. He just stared off into the distance. The secretary, Lockney, was furiously writing on a piece of parchment. Anahi’s careful box braids had been removed for a new style, and she kept reaching up to twirl a braid and finding it gone. Her gaze was disoriented and uncertain. Alsia just looked haunted. It was only Boze, who sat forward, smug, as if he had already made up his mind. The slimy toad.
“We’re here for the case of Lorian Van Horn, a Society member and council member. He has been accused of the following: treason, conspiracy, murder, possession and trafficking of illegal magical artifacts, falsifying documents, lying to the council, and resisting arrest. How do you plead?”
“Not guilty, Master Zoh,” Lorian said. He stood, square-shouldered, before the podium.
Kerrigan had stood there. She knew the weight of judgment in that position.
“Mistress Hellina has filed the charge,” Zoh said. “She will provide the evidence.”
Helly stood from her seat on the council and came forward to address the entire court. “After the death of Basem Nix, an investigation began into who could have possibly infiltrated the Society’s defenses. It became clear to those involved that his death had to have been an inside job. Only someone with access to the dungeons could have done this without anyone noticing. The investigation quickly went nowhere, but against the wishes of the investigators, I continued my own search.