Moonset

“Nevertheless,” Illana continued, as if I hadn’t said anything of value, “those are the accusations in play.”

“We’re the only ones they’re scared of,” Jenna murmured quietly, looking up at me. “They don’t care about the others.”

Robert Cooper cleared his throat. “And that’s all you need to know. Now then—”

“I am not bait.” I took a deep breath, and looked at the members of the Congress. None of them, save Illana, looked particularly intimidating. “And this is the last time you’ll use any of us like that.” Someone had to stand up. Someone had to put this to an end.

They’d brought us here, hoping we’d draw out their warlock. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, the warlock would take care of the Moonset problem for them. And if not, well, we could both be painted with the same brush. The whispers once again picked up around the table, from smug whispers of “how inappropriate” to more scandalized “of course it was them.” Everyone around the table had an opinion, it seemed. That’s when I knew for certain.

The Invisible Congress. Made up of the leaders of the Great Covens and a few token

Solitaires. They pulled at our strings and toyed with our lives. I looked down at Jenna, who was looking back up at me like we’d never seen each other before.

“Young man, should you choose to interrupt me again, I will have you bound and gagged,”

Quinn’s grandfather said, taking to his feet. We stood across the table from each other. I swallowed. “We’re all well aware of your need for dramatics,” he said, waving his hand in a way that included the two of us. “And I won’t tolerate it this evening. You lost your rights the moment you consorted with the Abyss.”

“Calm yourself, Robert,” Illana said, placing her hand on his arm. “Remember, we’re not at war any longer.”

The rotund, sweating man seated on the other side of Robert cleared his throat. “Are we sure that both of them are involved with the Denton boy? Their files indicate the girl is a risk, but hardly the boy.”

Robert looked to his left, pitching his voice for his grandson. “Bring the girl in.”

I followed Quinn with my eyes until he went to the door, and then I turned to watch as he disappeared across the hall. A few moments later he returned with Ash following behind.

There was soot covering her face. I could see rips in her shirt underneath the too-large jacket she was wearing, and her hair was a mess, but she looked otherwise unhurt.

“You can stand with Quinn,” Illana said, not altogether unkindly to her. But Ash didn’t move.

Jenna’s fingernails clawed into my wrist all of a sudden. I jumped, trying to pull my arm away, but she held fast. Her attention never left Robert. Her point was obvious— stare at your girlfriend later.

“The evidence is clear,” Robert continued. “The Moonset children may not have initiated the influx of dark magic into our world these last few months, but their involvement cannot be denied. If Ashen Farrer hadn’t invoked the spellform that saved their lives, who knows what would have happened?”

I glanced at Ash, who was still standing near the door, her eyes uncertainly moving around the table. She realizes there’s more to this, too.

“How did she learn a spellform at such a young age?” one of the ladies across the table asked, leaning forward in her seat. “There have been no applications on file with her name on them.”

Ash opened her mouth, but as it turned out, no one really cared to hear what she had to say.

The sweating man shifted in his seat, his hands steepled in front of him. “I could not presume,” he said loftily. “My boys would never violate the law like that.”

“You handle the training of spellforms,” the woman accused the sweating man. “How else would she have learned if not from one of your trainers?”

“Ash didn’t invoke that spell,” I interjected. “At least not by herself. I was the one who finished it. Not her.” In that moment, our eyes met, and Ash took a step forward. A step towards Jenna and I.

“You weren’t brought here to speak,” Robert said, coming to his feet again. “And I will not tolerate it any longer.”

“Point of order,” Quinn interjected, stepping forward again. “But the law states that Coven leaders have the right to speak before the Congress.”

“Oh, you can’t mean,” Robert sputtered. “That’s preposterous.”

“It’s well documented that the children are bound into a coven,” Illana murmured. “Although they are still Moonset’s offspring.” Her lips twisted in distaste.

“They are infants,” Robert argued. “Neophytes.”

“The law is the law,” I said slowly. It was something that I’d believed in wholly before tonight, and the one thing our parents had never believed. To them, the world demanded revolution. “I am a coven leader, the same as many of you. And if we’re to be charged with aiding a warlock, then I lay the same charge.”

The room erupted into loud chatter, but I raised my voice and pointed. “At Robert Cooper.”

Thirty

“There was something disturbing about the five of them. They would look at you with these eyes … like they knew what we’d done.

And then there were the spells. Simple magics went haywire around them. Miranda

Abbot suggested euthanasia, and was struck down by some sort of seizure. Those babies … those children of Moonset … they’re a threat.”

Nicholas Stone (C: Eventide) Official Report

This meeting, or trial, or whatever it was, was a farce. Cooper wanted us out of the way—and he’d break the law to do it. But thanks to all the reading I’d done for Quinn, I knew that a charge of invoking the black arts couldn’t be ignored. So long as it was made by a coven leader. Now all those papers make sense. He wanted me to be prepared.

All conversation died. Every pair of eyes in the room was locked onto me, and not a single one of them was anything less than dumbfounded. Especially not my target.

“This is preposterous,” he sputtered. “We don’t have to listen to this.”

“Yes, you do.” I realized what they must see when they looked at me—the spitting image of

Sherrod Daggett, calling them to account. “You brought us here, hoping that a myth named

Cullen Bridger would come after us. He came close to catching us once. I made the same mistake you did—I assumed Bridger was the warlock here, but it was just a kid that no one cared about.”

Robert’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you, to make such baseless accusations?”

I didn’t back down. I raised my chin, and met his glare with one of my own. “I am the son of

Sherrod Daggett.” Gasps around the table.

Over a dozen faces were staring up at me, most of them in fear. The room had grown so quiet I could almost hear a bead of sweat dripping down the sweating man’s temple. I looked to

Quinn, but his dark eyes were impassive. Even Illana’s face gave away nothing.

“But I am not my father. We are not our parents.”

The sentence hung in the air, and no one wanted to hear it. One by one they looked away from me, stopped meeting my eyes.

“You can’t keep punishing us for the things our parents did. And you can’t keep manipulating us in hopes that we’ll commit a crime more to your liking. In America, that’s called entrapment.”

“What does this have to do with your charge against Eventide?” one of the woman asked.

“I will not continue to be slandered like this,” Robert spat from the other side of the table.

“We will not humor your outbursts any further.”