The man next to her did not wear the traditional black robes of our clan. His pinstripe suit barely contained his muscular bulk, and the heavy gold rings on his fingers clattered against the tabletop. His tailored clothes and fashionable haircut couldn’t hide the danger in his black eyes or the tension that held his body ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice. His stare was as rough and abrupt as a choke hold, and my core writhed in protest at its unrelenting pressure.
“That’s enough, Claude,” the next man on that side of the table said. “He’s our guest, not a threat.”
“You’re too trusting, Brand,” Claude said. “This boy nearly destroyed our entire clan with his antics last year. I’m not ready to disregard the damage he’s done just yet.”
Brand rolled his eyes and adjusted his robes. His clothes were stiff with embroidered scrivenings, and power radiated from him like a bonfire’s heat. No matter how he turned his head, his face seemed wreathed in shadows that made it impossible to make out his features. His eyes might’ve been brown, or blue, or green; I couldn’t tell.
“Welcome to our little club, Jace,” Brand said. “Don’t mind Claude, he’s paid to be paranoid.”
“He’s paid to keep us safe,” said the only person seated on the right side of the table.
The elderly woman towered over the rest of the elders. Her long, slender torso was perched on a collection of skeletal mechanical legs that splayed out around her, taking up more of the floor than the table. She did not even look at me, instead focusing intently on Brand across from her. She shook her head, and the long mane of her gray hair danced around her shoulders.
“Mr. Warin,” the man at the head of the table said. “Please, have a seat while I make the introductions.”
The only chair that remained was at the table’s foot, and I eased myself into it. My legs were still a bit wobbly and my head spun from the unexpected jump through a portal, and I was glad to get off my feet before I fell off them.
“I am Elder Sanrin,” the man said, his tone surprisingly informal. “This lovely woman on my right is Elder Hirani. Elders Claude and Brand have already introduced themselves to you, and the last member of our illustrious counsel is Elder Ariana. It is our pleasure to welcome you here, to our private meeting room. I do apologize for the abrupt method of transportation, but the Portal Defense Force has been finicky, and it was easier to use our private resources than attempt to negotiate the unnecessarily complex public alternative.”
“And, this way,” Claude said quietly, tugging at his bushy sideburns, “no one knows you’re here.”
“Quite right,” Ariana said. “Discretion regarding our conversation here is quite important. In fact, before we continue, will you agree to a geas of silence regarding everything said at this meeting?”
I wasn’t sure what a geas of silence was, but it was clear I wouldn’t get any more answers without agreeing to one.
“Of course, honored Elder,” I said with a slight bow in her direction.
A coil of jinsei wound itself around my core the instant I said the words. It was terribly uncomfortable for a moment, then faded away to a vague throb. It only took me a moment’s examination to understand what it had done. I simply wasn’t able to discuss anything said in this room with anyone. My core rebelled at the idea, but it was a little late for it to complain.
“Can we at least eat before we beleaguer the poor boy with our demands?” Brand asked. “I don’t know what time it was when we snatched him, but I haven’t eaten in what feels like days.”
“It was getting on toward lunchtime,” I said. “And I’m hungry, myself.”
“Then let’s eat.” Sanrin snapped his fingers, and unseen hands suddenly pulled one of the velvet curtains aside to reveal an open archway.
Young men dressed in black pants, white shirts, and black vests immediately entered the room. They each held a sword-like skewer of steaming meat, the pointed ends resting on trays supported by their other hands. Without a word, each of the men took up a position next to one of us at the table, placed their tray on the table, and drew a long knife from their belt.
I was the only one that flinched, and I barely restrained my Eclipse nature from lashing out at the weapon nearest me. That would have been extremely embarrassing, at best, and deadly at worst. I couldn’t imagine how the Elders would react if an Eclipse Warrior suddenly appeared at their dinner table.
“Easy, Jace,” Brandon said from my left. “They’re just going to carve the meat.”
I blushed and stared down at my plate, too embarrassed to say anything. I’d never seen this much meat in one place outside of the School’s dining hall, and maybe not even there. The servers quietly announced the names of their dishes, sliced meat from the skewers, and then moved one position to the right to repeat the process.
In a matter of minutes, my formerly empty plate was stacked high with thick slabs of herb-crusted prime rib, slices of picanha so thin I could practically see through them, bundles of bloody rare filet mignon wrapped in crispy bacon, and hunks of pork loin crusted with a layer of seared Parmesan cheese. Another set of servers, women wearing black skirts and white tops, swept into the chamber behind the meat course and deposited small dishes containing mashed potatoes sprinkled with chives and swimming in butter, spears of asparagus lined up like soldiers next to them, carrots glazed with a sauce that smelled both spicy and sweet, and tiny loaves of bread crusted with patches of bubbly, seared cheese.
“May the Shadow Phoenix bless us all,” Elder Sanrin said.
The elders dug into their food without
