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Damien
Following Anna’s lead, he walked through the doors and into the room beyond.
It was circular, and relatively small. He’d been expecting some grand throne room, but this was much smaller and more intimate. Made entirely from stone, he could pick out the individual pieces in the walls around him.
A semi-circle of raised seats sat behind a raised stone wall on the far side of the chamber. A little staircase split them with six to his right, and seven to his left. Damien wasn’t sure what the significance of the asymmetry was, but he felt there was one. All his senses were tingling, telling him that this chamber was full of power.
Magic. They call it magic here, and they can control it in ways we can’t.
Even as he watched, figures materialized in the seats. Only one of them emerged from a side chamber and used the stairs to take her seat.
“Initiate Anna, you have summoned the Coven.”
The voice spoke without warning and came from everywhere all at once. It was an impressive trick, but Damien did little more than shift his attention from Anna to the assembled group in front of him.
“Yes, Circe, I did,” Anna said, addressing the sole figure who had come in under their own power.
Damien frowned at the others. Were they actually present, he wondered, or was this more magic? They didn’t quite look real.
“Why?”
“I was out on patrol of the northern mountains today,” she began. “When I came across something most unusual. After further investigation, I knew that I must bring news of it to you, so that the Coven may be informed and make a decision. I am...I am out of my depth,” she admitted. “This is bigger than me.”
“Wise of you to seek help when you are unsure,” the same voice said, though this time it was more localized to the figure in attendance.
Circe, she’d call the woman in the robe, hood pulled far forward to hide her features. Damien didn’t know what that signified, but it seemed to be a title of respect. The leader of them all, perhaps.
“Thank you, Circe. May I continue?”
The figure gestured for her to go on. Damien didn’t pay much attention; after all, he’d been there, he’d lived through the events of the past few hours, and then some. He’d seen yet one more of his kin fall to the Infected, to the enemy they couldn’t even see. What more use did he have for listening to the story of Milon’s brave sacrifice yet again? All it would do is tear at his heart once more.
He did look at the thirteen figures arrayed in front of him. All had on black robes with hoods that prevented him from seeing inside. Looking upon Circe, he tried to peer into the shadows, but even his dragon sight couldn’t penetrate them enough to give him more than a glimpse of her eyes.
As if she sensed what he was doing, Circe’s head turned slightly to focus on him, granting Damien another peek at twin orbs of golden light hidden deep within the recesses of her hood. He stared back, but without defiance or anger. A simple statement that he was aware of her gaze, and wasn’t going to back down, but neither was he trying to challenge her.
“You are not a creature of Earth. Nor are you of the Abyss,” Circe—the Circe, he wondered—said abruptly, interrupting Anna.
“No.” Damien didn’t offer more right away. What was the Abyss? Did these people have access to other worlds? Maybe they could help him find a way home to Dracia...
“You are no Faerie. No god. Not a ghost or a spirit. Neither demon nor angel, of that I am convinced,” Circe went on, her head shifting slightly under the hood as she studied him.
“I am Damien. I am Dracian.” He watched carefully but detected absolutely no sign of recognition at his name.
Circe leaned forward. “You are from another planet.”
“Yes. Dracia.”
Beside him, Anna remained silent but watchful. He could feel her eyes on him, and wanted to look over at her, to reassure her that it would be okay, but he didn’t. Now would be a bad time for that, he sensed.
The Coven didn’t like what he was telling them. There wasn’t much body language for him to pick up on, but the little that the figures did move didn’t seem overly positive.
How could he blame them, though? Here he was, a refugee from a destroyed planet come to their territory with tales of horror and an enemy that could not be stopped.
And he’d just so conveniently left the portal open behind him. It wasn’t like they would welcome that with open arms.
“What do you want from Earth?” Circe asked at long last.
“A home,” he said painfully. “Ours is gone. We are few in number, and just wish to survive. That is all.”
“And the enemy you have brought with you?”
“Dead,” he said, looking at Anna at long last. “The threat has been contained thanks to your...I believe you call her an Initiate? She ensured that any last remnants were taken care of.”
Anna shuddered at the memory and he reached up to squeeze her shoulder in support. That action seemed to elicit a response from some of the Coven members, at least three of whom shifted in their seats. Damien dropped his arm. Why did that bother them so much?
“You came here running from a war. A war you brought to our doorstep. And you expect us just to welcome you?”
Damien held his tongue, trying not to lash out at the callous abbreviation of a situation far more complex than that.
“We just wish to recover somewhere that we won’t be hunted. Where we won’t be forced to kill someone who the week before was a brother, mother, sister or uncle. A sense of security.” He swept his gaze across the Coven, feeling their judgment and shunting it aside. “We don’t expect handouts. We will work for it. You will find us strong and hardy, and with gifts that will aid you, I am sure.”
Circe folded her arms across her chest, leaning back in her chair.
“What makes you think we need your help? That we can afford to shelter you?”
“Then point us in a direction of those who can,” he countered.
“Why shouldn’t we send you back?”
It was a fair question, and he wasn’t hurt by it.
“Because you can’t,” he said bluntly. “The way is nearly closed.”
“Yes, nearly. As Initiate Sturgis has indicated, that means it could be opened again. Is this true?”
He winced. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Do any of your people know about this portal?”
“Maybe Rokh,” he said. “But he and the others have split up, moving deeper into the mountains. I don’t know where they went.”
The Coven fell silent at this. He saw heads turning this way and that, but no sound reached him.
“They’ve put up a sound barrier,” Anna whispered out of the corner of her mouth, sensing his confusion. “They want to talk without us hearing.”
“Oh. How do you think it’s going?” he asked, curious as to her thoughts. He thought Anna a wonderfully intelligent woman and found himself leaning on her for insight and feedback already.
“Um. Hard to tell,” she said. “I really don’t know. They’re not the most communicative bunch with us lowly Initiates.”
Damien resolved to find out just what the hierarchy of Winterspell was as soon as he could. He suspected that Anna wasn’t as low-ranking as she made herself out to be, but rather that she suffered a bit of low self-esteem because of her lack of natural strength. It was something he wished she would realize was probably an asset, as it had sharpened her mind more than many of her peers.
Something about the language of the Coven told him they were done conversing. He stood up straight and faced Circe head on, waiting to hear their pronouncement.
“We will grant your people sanctuary.”
Damien sagged in relief, unable to hide his gratefulness.
“But,” the Circe said, raising one hand. The sleeve of the robe fell back to reveal a slim hand, dark olive skin ending at five perfectly manicured nails.
Covering his surprise that it wasn’t an ancient crone under the hood, Damien nodded for her to continue.
“We will not give you free rein. We simply cannot at this point in time. Not until we know more about you. A section of the secondary tower will be turned over to your people. You will be confined to that and certain other areas and expected to obey other rules completely and thoroughly.”
Damien frowned. It wasn’t ideal, but what choice did he have?
“What are those rules?” he asked.
“No changing into your animal forms without advance notice. It wreaks havoc on our organization and distracts the students from their tasks.”
“Agreed,” he said, seeing no need to argue. “What else?”
“We understand you have powers. You will not use them on any students, witches or other guests.”
“Of course.”
“Finally, there will be no fraternizing between your kind and ours.”
Damien frowned.
“We note that most of you are men. In fact, we are unaware of any women with your party.”
“Some came through,” he said. “But our female population was decimated early in the war. Many who remained stayed behind after the loss of their young. It was...tough for them to imagine carrying on.”
“Even so,” Circe said forcefully, pausing briefly to indicate she understood his pain. “You will refrain from any actions with the members of Winterspell Academy. Is that understood?”
Damien thought it an arbitrary rule, unnecessary and confining. He wanted to rage against it, to tell them to go suck on a frost dragon’s icicle. His dragon was bellowing its anger inside.
Why am I so bothered by this? It’s easy to adhere to, a nothing rule, really. We’re here to survive, that’s all. Get your act together, Damien.
“Very well, I will make sure word gets around,” he said. “Thank you so much for your generosity. It means more than you can ever know.”
Circe nodded. “Just see that you repay it with proper manners, as must any of your other kin that make it here.”
“I will,” he promised.
The first step had been achieved. A place for his people to regroup. To rest and recover. Without the threat of imminent attack.
Perhaps his kind would survive after all.
“Master Loiner will show you to your quarters,” Circe said, gesturing past Damien to the doors. “Please leave us now. We must talk to Initiate Sturgis in private.”
Damien cast an apprehensive look at Anna. “Initiate Sturgis has done nothing wrong,” he protested. “If she is in trouble then I wish to stay at her side, to make sure it is understood that she only brought us here so that you could decide what to do with us.”
Circe waved a hand again. “We simply wish to question her some more. That is all. I am sure you must be tired after your journey and that your companions upstairs will be grateful to know they have found a place to rest.”
“Of course,” he said respectfully, recognizing a dismissal when he heard one.
It wouldn’t do to challenge the Coven after they’d just agreed to so generously help his people out.
Damien retreated from the Coven Chambers and found the same matronly woman who had harassed Anna upstairs waiting for him. She looked at him with clear disdain.
“This way,” she said unhappily, setting off immediately, not waiting for him to respond.
He followed along sourly, wondering why some of the people seemed to hate him already. Was this the sort of welcome his people were in for? Or would more of them be like Anna? Warm, welcoming, and more than a little intriguing...
