Chapter 4

Chapter 4

ALICE

T he council hadn’t even assembled yet and already Alice could feel a tension headache brewing behind her eyes.

Why did I ever agree to this ? she asked herself, for the hundredth time.

When the High Priestesses first offered her a seat on the council as their Faction’s representative, Alice had slammed the door in their faces. The idea of a former Blade, the very Witch responsible for the fall of their old regime, taking up the mantel of leader was borderline psychotic. But they’d been persistent, and bit by bit they’d managed to wear her down and convince her she really was their best choice.

Their only choice, really, after Princess Amalia had abdicated her role. The Priestesses had bickered amongst themselves for weeks over whether one of them could be the singular representative, before deciding it simply wasn’t possible. As leaders of their own covens, loyal to their members above all else, they couldn’t be trusted to remain impartial.

No, the representative of the Witch Faction had to be someone who could uphold not just the well-being of every Witch in the realm, but the well-being of members of all four Factions. It had to be someone with no loyalty to the old leaders, someone with a history of putting the common good above their own needs.

Someone like Alice, the dead Queen’s Blade. The Witch who had taken down an empire.

That had been the impassioned plea Sana had made to her, at least. And, finally, Alice had agreed on the condition the High Priestesses continued their role as advisors.

It was a condition that—less than two years later—they were consistently failing to meet.

Alice pinched the corners of her eyes, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in her head. Ten minutes past the time they were meant to begin, and she, the Water Coven High Priestess Sana, and the Vampire Faction representative Cassiel Salvatore deSanguine were the only members of the council who had bothered to show up.

It really shouldn’t have surprised her. Leandra was busy helping Fey with her classes nearly every morning, and Linh, the High Priestess of the Air Coven, had been very clear in her distaste for the council and everything it stood for. She barely bothered to show up anymore, and when she did, she did nothing but scowl and complain. And Claudia...

Claudia was simply gone.

Something had changed in her, after the Queen’s death. The High Priestess of the Earth Coven had grown weaker and more wane with each passing day. She’d lost weight, disappearing into herself so suddenly that her skin was hanging off her frail body. Then one day she’d taken to her bed and simply not gotten back up. She had finally passed away, just a few weeks ago, plagued by an extended illness that no healers seemed capable of treating. From what Sana had told her, it would be a long time before the Earth temple picked a new High Priestess. They were in mourning, and of all the temples, they were perhaps the slowest in enacting change.

It could take years for them to elect another Coven leader. Years before another Earth High Priestess sat at this table with them.

Shifting in his seat, Cassiel Salvatore deSanguine sniffed loudly and looked pointedly at the clock on the wall, then to the empty chair at his side. As always, he immaculately dressed himself in a rich black suit with a dark red lining—the colors of his Faction’s house. “I see our council woman from the Demon Faction has once again not deigned to attend.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Alice said, gesturing at the room around them with one hand while continuing to pinch the bridge of her nose with the other. It hadn’t taken long for Alice to recognize the telltale signs of the Demon’s presence. The shadows along the walls were a darker shade than usual, stretching far beyond where they should, given the light of the room. And they flickered, ever so slightly, when you weren’t looking directly at them. “She’s just not… here , here.”

Cassiel rolled his eyes and sat straighter in his seat. “Kallista,” he called into the room, amusement echoing in his dark voice. “If you could be a dear?”

There was a pulse from the shadows, barely noticeable, before they withdrew. A moment later, the rear door of the throne room opened, and Kallista entered, head held high.

“So nice of you to join us,” Cassiel said with just the barest hint of a sneer in his voice. “I do hope we are not inconveniencing you terribly by asking that you attend in person.”

Kallista shot him a disdainful look as she took her seat. The Demon was devastatingly beautiful, even as her blood-red lips curled with distaste.

“I was not aware my physical presence was a necessity,” she said. She and the Vampire glared at each other for a long moment. He was the first to look away. “After all, Kellos hasn’t been present for the last… what is it now? Three meetings?”

“Two,” Alice corrected. “And he will send a proxy representative today, apparently.”

“Oh?” Kallista asked. She looked around the room, pointedly. “And where, pray tell, is this proxy now? Did he send us a little mouse to hide in the corners? A bat, for the rafters?”

“Not a mouse, no,” came a breathless voice from the main entrance, farthest from the council table. “I’m here! Sorry for the wait!”

The Shifter who entered, hurrying across the long room to where the rest of them sat, was nothing at all like the Lion Shifter Kellos who usually represented their Faction. He was young and fit, pale- skinned to Kellos’s golden-brown hues, and wore his long brown hair tied up away from his face. His eyes were a metallic grey, and they darted over each council member in turn, as though he couldn’t quite settle on where to look.

“A Hawk?” the deSanguine said, dismissively. His dark eyes raked down the Shifter’s body, sizing him up and clearly unimpressed. “The Shifters have sent us a Hawkling to replace Kellos?”

“Not a replacement,” the Shifter said, seating himself in Kellos’s chair and scooting it closer to the table. It dragged across the floor noisily. He ignored the hostile tone in Cassiel’s voice, which Alice suspected either made him very brave or incredibly stupid. “And not a Hawk, either. A Falcon.”

He gave them a wild smile in greeting. “I’m Silas. Kellos is, regrettably, still detained. I’m just here for this meeting, maybe two, to make sure our Faction is suitably represented in his absence.”

“Kellos has been regrettably detained for quite a few meetings now,” Kallista mused. “Should we be worried?”

“Is the old cat finally ready to croak?” the deSanguine added.

Alice couldn’t help but think of Claudia, stuck in bed and slowly fading away until death finally took her in her sleep. It felt like the whole city was growing weaker by the day.

Absently, her fingers drifted over the scar that marred her Blades mark.

“No, no.” Silas flashed them an easy smile. “Nothing at all to worry about. He is just recovering from a bad cold and needs his rest. Nothing serious. He sends his regrets and hopes he’ll be back on his feet in time for the next meeting.”

“With all the continued buzz from Prey for the Crown lately, I’m shocked Kellos didn’t send a Deer, or…” Cassiel waved his hand, searching for the words. “Or a Rat, or some such beast.”

Silas’s smile was a touch more dangerous as he answered. “Rats are predators, I assure you. Something to keep in mind when dealing with them,” he told the deSanguine. “And the PFTC has no problem with Kellos or me. We are happy to work with our nonpredator brethren, so long as they remember their place in the food chain. They understand the necessity of a predator representing them. And… we’re all predators here, aren’t we?”

His eyes flashed as he spoke.

“I imagine we are,” Alice conceded. Her headache had receded somewhat, and she was eager to get started so she could get home. To her Joy. She peeled her fingers from her scar reluctantly. “Now that we are all here, perhaps we should start the meeting, then? What is on our agenda for today?”

“Bread,” Sana said, shuffling her notes. She sat straight-backed in her chair, acting more secretary than High Priestess at these meetings. “Or, rather, wheat. The price of wheat has risen substantially over the previous year, and it is becoming a problem for many of the Fallen.”

“We don’t use that term anymore, Witch,” Kallista said, leaning her delicate chin on her hand and turning to glare at Sana. “We do not see ourselves as having Fallen from the Goddess’s grace, you know. That was always your Faction’s term, not ours.”

Sana winced. “Right. Of course, my apologies. The price of wheat is presenting a problem for many citizens,” she amended.

“Well, why has the price been rising?” Cassiel asked in a bored tone.

“A few reasons,” Sana demurred, eyes skimming over her notes. “But I think we should focus more on the solutions than on the cause, and I do believe?—”

“The farmers are dead,” Alice interrupted, and when the rest of the council looked at her, a little shocked, she continued. “Most of the realm’s wheat comes from the fourth octant and was farmed by three families from the Witch Faction. Two of those families were killed in the aftermath of the Blood Moon. One had close ties to the Queen’s Temples, and the other…” Alice shrugged. “The other family, very likely, were killed out of sheer spite against the Crown. Or because they were rich and unprotected, take your pick.”

Cassiel winced, but Kallista and Silas at least didn’t seem bothered by the news.

“Yes,” Sana said in a heavy voice. “Thank you, Alice. Those deaths have left the farms untended, and the wheat unharvested. We offered the farms to the remaining family in that octant, but…” She paused and pursed her lips. “They are stretched thin enough with their own work an d their own farm. They don’t have the manpower necessary to maintain another one, let alone two.”

“I think we can help with that,” Silas said, tilting his head sharply to the side. It was an unmistakably predatory motion and made Alice itch to touch the small knife she still kept on her, hidden at her side.

They are not your enemies , she reminded herself. Not anymore . She forced herself to keep her hands still on the table in front of her.

“The fourth octant is mostly Shifters, after all,” Silas continued, eyes darting to each of them and finally settling on Sana. “I know of a rather substantial herd of Elk who live there. I’m sure I can speak to some of them about taking over the farms and getting our wheat supply back up and running.”

Sana blinked. “But these are Witch farms,” she said, stressing the word Witch. “If they are taken by some Shifters, other Witches could see it as an act of aggression.”

“Do you want the wheat or not?” Alice snapped and instantly regretted it when Sana flinched. Goddess above, diplomacy would be the death of her. Taking a breath to calm herself, she continued in a softer tone. “The farms are empty, correct, Sana?”

“Correct,” Sana replied, quickly recovering from Alice’s temper.

“Then they are abandoned. And something that has been abandoned by definition cannot be taken. Let the Shifters have them. There’s no use wasting good food to appease the dead.” Alice turned to Silas. “How quickly can you have those farms occupied?”

“Within the month,” he assured her with a smile. “I’ll fly there myself to oversee the transfer and find out if they can salvage any of this year’s harvest. With any luck, we could have more wheat heading to the city within the quarter.”

“Good,” Alice replied. “Let’s have a vote on it, then.”

“I worry about the precedent this might set,” Sana insisted, her eyes on Alice. “If, in the event of a family’s total annihilation their belongings become a free for all…” She dropped her voice, likely thinking the other council members could not hear her, and directed the rest of her statement toward Alice, and Alice alone. “Then what is to stop the full slaughter of members of our Faction?”

“Why are you always so convinced the rest of us are always mere seconds away from murder?” Kallista asked, sounding exasperated. “If you recall, it was your Faction that racked up the highest body count in the War of the Fallen. Given your history, shouldn’t it be the rest of us worrying about our potential annihilation?”

Alice fought not to roll her eyes. There was no doubt at all from those at this table who the strongest person in the room was, and it wasn’t either of the Witches by any stretch of the imagination. From the moment she’d shown up, Kallista had made it clear in a thousand different ways that her power was above and beyond anything the rest of them could even hope to reach. And if the stories were to be believed, the eighth octant was full of Demons just like her. It was almost laughable that she would find herself concerned about their Faction at all.

“The dead can’t own land,” Alice insisted, bringing them back to the matter at hand. “And whatever precedent this sets, we’ll deal with it when it comes up. I won’t hold back food from our citizens over someone’s unfounded fears, Sana.”

To her credit, Sana relented. It was one of the few things Alice had found she liked about the Water Witch. Sure, Sana came with her own prejudices and fears about the other Factions, but she was learning to overcome them. She knew when she was beaten and never seemed to hold a grudge about it.

“We should vote, then,” Sana said, setting her notes aside and grabbing the ledger where they recorded official council votes. “Factions in favor of transferring ownership of the two wheat farms and their holdings in the fourth octant to Shifters of Silas’s choosing at a later date, please raise your hands.”

Alice was the first to raise her hand, and after that, it was unanimous. Sana recorded it as such.

“What can be done in the meantime?” Kallista asked. “Harvesting and grinding wheat is time-consuming, I imagine, and that’s assuming anything in the fields can be salvaged for immediate use. The city needs flour now.”

“Not just the city,” Sana clarified. “The entire realm is experiencing this shortage. And, unfortunately, it is going to get much worse before it gets better. Each shipment from the fourth octant has been less than the last, and we are approaching winter in a few months. What we have, and what can still be harvested this season, will have to last until the next year.”

“Did the Queen have any emergency stores?” Cassiel asked, not bothering to look at any of them. He was like this every meeting, only half appearing to pay any attention. Yet, every time Alice thought he wasn’t listening, he’d jump in with some brilliant suggestion.

It annoyed the hell out of her.

Sana shuffled through her papers, searching through their records.

“Uh, yes, here it is,” she said, finally, eyes skimming the page. “Yes, she did! I have the inventory here. And there are…” Her eyes widened. “Goddess bless us, there are several tons of flour stored here in the palace storerooms.”

Alice nodded. Finally, something going right for a change. “Good. Have it all removed and dispersed to the stores in the city. Wait…” She stopped, drumming her fingers on the table and thinking. “No. No, have half of it dispersed to stores in the city. Then have the palace accountants divide and distribute the rest to the other octants. And make sure they distribute it based on population, not evenly to all eight,” Alice insisted. Sana’s pen skittered across the paper as she made notes. “There’s no need to give the same amount of wheat to the second octant as the fifth, when they have four times the population. All in favor?”

The vote was again unanimous, and they moved on to other business. And other business after that. And even more, after that.

The meeting lasted until well after midnight, and by the time they all agreed to call it a night, Alice was mentally and physically spent. Silas, to her surprise, had been a remarkably effective stand-in for Kellos. Despite his youth, he was smart, and his solutions had been clever without being too self-serving. Alice hoped that if Kellos’s absence continued, he at least kept sending Silas as their representative.

“You did well today,” came a soft, feminine voice at her side.

Alice glanced up to find Kallista leaning on the table at her shoulder, staring down at her. She tried to swallow the fear that leapt into her throat.

Even now, after all this time working with her, the Demon made her uncomfortable. There was something dangerous about her, something that still set her on edge. One of the first things she learned during her training in the Queen’s army was how to assess a potential threat and recognize when she was outmatched.

Alice had no illusions that in every way possible, Kallista had her outmatched. She genuinely hoped that there would never come a day when they stood on opposing sides of a battle.

“Thanks,” Alice replied simply, straightening and hoping the Demon would take the hint and leave.

“You’re good at this, you know,” Kallista continued, those dangerous blue eyes boring into her.

Alice shrugged. “It’s not hard,” she demurred. “It’s just like solving a puzzle.” Sure, it had been difficult at first, but now Alice found it suited her. Leading suited her.

Who would have thought the big bad Queen’s Blade, a monster in so many folktales, could be a diplomat?

“I think you aren’t used to compliments,” Kallista said, raising an eyebrow at her. “You don’t need to undervalue yourself. You are good at this. I’m not trying to stroke your ego, Witch, I am simply stating a fact.”

Alice snorted, but she didn’t argue. Goddess help her, she liked Kallista, almost as much as she feared her. She didn’t want to, didn’t want to trust the Demon for a myriad of reasons. But she’d definitely grown on her over these last months.

“Will you stay on? After the princess comes of age?” Kallista asked, picking an invisible speck of dirt off her dress with long painted fingernails.

Alice paused.

That had been the agreement when the High Priestesses had appointed her. After her first, and only, council meeting, Amalia had shown no interest in continuing. They had decided a new representative should lead the Witches in her stead until she reached the age of majority.

“I’m not sure,” Alice answered, honestly. “The princess is…” A brat? Incapable of handling her own emotions, let alone assuming responsibility for an entire Faction? A representation of everything Alice had fought to overthrow, of everything that had infected the city when the Witches ruled?

Alice cleared her throat and said, politely as she could, “The princess is complicated. If she decides to take her seat on the council after her eighteenth birthday, I will respect her choice and step aside.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Alice shrugged. “Then my continued presence on the council will be decided by the High Priestesses. They are the closest thing our Faction has to a ruler, after all.”

Kallista smiled, admiring her nails. “For now,” she said, and Alice didn’t miss the ominous tone in her voice.

Alice gave her a long look, straightening to her full height.

Shit like that is what makes it so hard to trust you, Demon , she thought.

“And what do you mean by that?” Alice didn’t bother to hide the menace in her voice.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Alice,” Kallista said, waving the words away. “It insults both of us. You know what I meant.”

Alice’s eyes hardened. “My sister,” she answered darkly.

Kallista nodded. “Yes. Your sister. You’ve seen the posters, haven’t you? It would be hard not to at this point, I imagine.”

Alice had. She had heard the rumors, too. Calls for Fey to be crowned queen. Arguments that her very existence was proof of a new, Goddess-chosen royal line.

“Fey isn’t interested in ruling,” Alice said simply.

Kallista shrugged, somehow making even that simple motion look elegant. “Few good rulers are. Only a sociopath would want the job, if you ask me.”

“Believe me, Kallista,” Alice insisted. “Fey is more sociopath than queen. She doesn’t want it, and between you and me, she would be terrible at it. And you might want to keep those thoughts to yourself when you are on the council. Do you think so little of your role here that you are so happy to throw it away? To give up the throne to a new dictator?”

“Oh please,” Kallista laughed. “I know this new leadership won’t last, just as much as you do. You have a power vacuum in this city, and I’ve lived through enough of those to know that they breed monsters. Someone will make a play for the throne, Alice. Whether you want to believe that or not doesn’t change the fact that it will happen.”

“Why are you here if you believe that?” Alice asked, stone-faced. Her headache was finally gone, but she was tired. Oh, so tired.

“Because I think the council is a good idea,” Kallista said. Alice held her gaze, hoping to see some evidence of a lie in her eyes, but saw nothing there. “I do, Alice. I think it’s brilliant. And I think it’s the best shot any of us have at keeping the peace in this realm.”

“But?”

“Peace is a fool's dream,” Kallista insisted. “Life is entropy, Witch. We can spend our whole lives fighting for stability, but eventually everything falls to chaos, no matter how hard you try to stop it. Chaos is the one constant over the course of time.”

“Why not you, then?” Alice challenged. “You say a power vacuum breeds monsters—who’s a bigger monster in this city than you? Why don’t you make a play for the top spot?”

Kallista made a face, scrunching her nose in distaste. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d be insulted.”

“You know what I mean, Demon.” Alice shook her head. “If the strongest beings in the realm will fight to take the throne, then why not you?”

Kallista shrugged. “I don’t want it.”

“But it’s so hard to believe my sister doesn’t feel the same?”

Kallista smiled, a wide and wicked thing. “Clever little trap you set for me there, Witch, I’ll give you that. Truthfully? I believe you when you say your sister doesn’t want it. And Goddess help us if she ever does, with all that power at her pretty little fingertips. She’s just as likely to kill us all as she is to rule us. But me? I’ve never had any interest in ruling. I simply don’t need that sort of stress in my life.” She examined her fingernails, as though bored. “It ages you terribly, and I don’t need the wrinkles.”

Alice snorted. “So… you believe the council is doomed to fail? That peace is doomed to fail? But every meeting you’re still here, still trying to make the realm a better place. Why? ”

Kallista almost smiled. “I suppose… I suppose I’m hoping you’ll prove me wrong.”

She’d heard enough. Alice gathered her things, piling them up and scooping them into her arms. “I look forward to trying, then,” she said, heading toward the exit. “I’ll see you at the next meeting, Kallista.”

It was late. Later than she’d hoped to stay. But knowing Joy, she’d stayed up to wait for her. As she left, Alice’s finger traced the edges of her scar, wishing she could still feel Joy through her mark.