Page 6 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
Until now.
Now, not only was she out in public on her hands and knees, but a whirlwind of butterflies spun in tight circles over her head, faster and more frenzied than any I’d ever seen. Two Good Council elites stood on either side of her like bodyguards, watching her scream without even twitching a muscle.
I didn’t recognize them, but I would have known they were from the Good Council even without their attire: long, flowing cloaks clipped together with silver buttons, the left shoulders sporting a circle of sheer fabric to let us all to see those little red dots in the center of their brands. Beyond that, they had that aura of elitism dripping from their slightly tilted expressions, the ease and smugness I had begun to associate with anyone who came from Bascite Mountain.
“What is this?” Emelle whispered beside me.
I hated that I knew. Hated that the whispered words slid so easily from my lips.
“It’s an early exile.”
Because why else would the Good Council come for Jenia, who’d been accused of murdering her own boyfriend and disposing of his body deep in the jungle?
“Please don’t,” Jenia choked out now between screams, her fingernails scratching at the stone. “My sister… she’s on the Good Council now. She won’t let you.”
“Your sister is one of our youngest, newest, and lowest-ranking members,” one of the elites said. “She cannot defy Dyonisia Reeve’s orders. And Dyonisia Reeve’s orders state that anyone who kills a neighbor, tampers with the shield, or tries to run away from the Esholian Institute during their training years shall be exiled permanently without—”
“Ididn’tkill him!” Jenia spit, trying to crawl away now.
Something itched in the corner of my mind at that. Like a memory, tugging against the confines of my subconscious. Like I knew she was right. As horrible as Jenia was, as nasty as I remembered Fergus being, they’d been nothing but drooling, fondling lovers when it came to each other.
I strained to listen to Jenia’s next words while the crowd around the fountain swelled even more, the quiet gasps of onlookers rising to excited whispers instead.
Excited whispers that sickened me. Because nobody was stopping this. Nobody was plunging forward to help her up or tell the Good Council elites to back the hell off.
“I don’t know where Fergus went.” Jenia was sobbing now, still crawling. “But I didn’ttouchhim. Please.”
“On behalf of the Good Council,” the elite continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “we hereby sentence you to eternal banishment, to preserve the safety of the worthy citizens of Eshol.”
I expected Jenia to renew her screaming at that, but she froze instead, even as that halo of butterflies spun faster and faster.
I took a single step forward.
Don’t you dare.
The voice echoed in my head, right where the throbbing was.
I jumped. Whirled. And found nobody looking at me, all eyes still pinned to Jenia in the middle of the courtyard.
Who are you?I thought furiously, wondering if a Mind Manipulator was messing with me from within the crowd.But that would have gone against the sector’s etiquette, which usually discouraged Manipulators from entering a stranger’s mind without permission. And I didn’t know a single Mind Manipulator on a personal level. Unless…
The voice grazed my mind again, dark and fathomless, before I could solidify that terrifying thought.
Don’t intervene.
My heartbeat flew into a frenzy as the image of a wickedly handsome young man formed in my mind, with dark brown locks of hair and eyes as cold and unyielding as smoky quartz.
It had to be him. Nobody else would have felt so horriblyfamiliar… which meant he was on the island, on this side of the shield, perhaps watching me right now. A Mind Manipulator’s power could only stretch so far.
Where are you?I asked now, my hands curling into fists, as if I could conjure my mother’s knife just by pretending to hold it. My gaze scampered over the crowd around me, the buildings behind us, but I saw nothing, nothing besides onlookers craning their necks and my friends holding their breaths and various birds watching from the rooftops.Why don’t you come out and talk to me face to face?
As if I could take Steeler on without my knife. My goddamned knife, which Istilldidn’t have on me, for God’s sake.
I could have sworn a low chuckle scraped through me.
Soon,he said.
No. Now.
