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to h-help perform the counter-spell.”

Alex didn’t correct him; none of the royals needed to know what he truly had in mind for the spell, and the vessel through which it would be performed.

“You’ve promised what?” Ceres growled.

“I’ve p-promised them as much essence as they require, in order to do what they must. They are launching an attack, and they n-need it more than we do,” Hadrian countered, though it was clear he wished he were anywhere else but here. It appeared even his sister could make him break out in a cold sweat, and Alex watched the uncomfortable royal begin to wring his hands.

“Well, on your own head be it,” Ceres snarled, folding her arms. “If our uncle decides to make a surprise visit, you’ll be royally screwed, and I won’t dig you out of the mess you’ve made this time. He’s already freaking out about not having enough, and you go giving it away, willy-nilly.”

“These young people are the b-best chance our race has, Ceres. I won’t waste that opportunity by being cautious—p-prudence never gets anyone anywhere,” Hadrian replied, making Alex feel warmer toward the white-haired man, especially as he looked like he might pass out at any moment.

Ceres snorted. “I thought you were Captain Cautious? You telling me you’ve finally grown a pair? I’ll believe it if you can say Julius’s name without shaking in your boots.”

Hadrian gave his sister a withering look. “Julius! See, no problem,” he said, though his knuckles had gone white with the strain.

With that, Hadrian plucked two large drawstring bags from one of the shelves and began to fill them with bottles. Ceres watched with a look of deep displeasure on her face.

Alex picked up one of the nearby bottles, and let the memories come to him. Instead of bursting into his mind, as they usually did, the remembrances of the person these belonged to trickled into his head, the visions fragmented and missing whole sections. It made sense, given that they contained only half a person’s energy, but Alex found it more troubling than any other bottle he had previously picked up. These bottles were desperately sad.

“I think you’re making a mistake,” she remarked as Hadrian shoved the last of the bottles into the second bag.

“You’ll see that I’m not,” Hadrian replied, his stutter all but gone.

“Where do the Falleaf students come from?” Aamir asked, evidently trying to break the tension between brother and sister.

“Why do you care? You’re taking their essence without so much as a second thought,” Ceres sniped.

Aamir shook his head. “I assure you, I care deeply about the origins and fates of these individuals. I have been close to being where they are myself. You don’t forget something like that,” he said softly.

This seemed to stun Ceres for a moment. “You were at a haven?”

“We were students at Spellshadow Manor,” Aamir explained.

“You broke out?”

Aamir nodded. “We did, and now we mean to put an end to all of this.”

“Well… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you,” she said, relenting. “The students come from the non-magical world, and from the ordinary magical folk who still reside in the magical realm. Anyone not lucky enough to be a noble, basically.”

“They come from the non-magical world too?” Ellabell cut in, her face showing her keen interest.

“Those who were hunted down and put onto a register—yes, their children come here, though they are picked through a set-out system. It’s usually the first-born of the family,” Ceres explained. “It’s the same with the ordinary mages in the magical world too. Whoever is unlucky enough to be born first gets a death sentence.”

“I thought you said they didn’t die?” Alex remarked.

Ceres gave a wry smile. “For some, it might be kinder. Recovery from splitting your soul in half is not an easy road, and the result differs from person to person. Some can be as fine as they were before it happened, with the odd pang from time to time, while others never properly heal. They become walking ghosts, always in pain, barely saying a word, a listless look in their eyes. Again, luck of the draw.”

Alex was horrified. Even the alternative was no better than death, if recovery failed. He wondered where these people were being held—a safe place had been mentioned, but its location had yet to be disclosed. Alex supposed he could understand that, considering what might happen if anyone found out where the safe place was. He couldn’t imagine it would end well for Hadrian and his sister if Julius found out they’d been smuggling mages out for years, taking only half their essence each time.

“Haven’t they noticed the essence here is so much weaker?” he enquired, glancing up into the white eye of Ceres.

She scoffed. “They’re too arrogant for their own good, especially my uncle. He thinks this is just the potency of underlings. I don’t think he’s questioned it once—odd, considering he prides himself on his vast intellect.” A nasty look passed over her features, as if she’d sniffed something bad. Alex had a feeling Julius garnered that reaction from a lot of people.

“Two bags of essence—will that be enough?” Hadrian asked, holding up the weighty-looking sacks.

Alex nodded. “That should be plenty for what we have in mind. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Well, now you’ve come and taken what you wanted, maybe you should all go—take your thanks and leave,” Ceres said tartly. “You’re keeping me from my work.”

“It’s fine, Ceres. We’re going.” Hadrian sighed, passing one of the sacks to Alex, while shouldering the other himself. “And if Julius comes, I promise I won’t drag you into my mess,” he added, with equal tartness, before moving toward the passageway, and the exit to the cave.

“I hope you don’t regret this!” she called, her voice echoing around the rocks.

“I won’t,” he muttered.

Alex and the others followed Hadrian up to the cave mouth. Unable to help himself, Alex turned back toward the cavernous room, only to find that Ceres had disappeared.

Chapter 18

After leaving the cave, Alex

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