Ascended (War of the Covens 3)

“Huh?”

Phoebe rolled her eyes and stood, gesturing for Caia to follow her. She wound her way through the dark aisles until they came to the back wall of the room. All Caia saw was another row of bookshelves.

Phoebe approached the middle of the aisle and reached up to pull on a thick, bronzed-leather tome. A creak, followed by a rumbling shudder seconds later, and the middle of the bookshelf opened inward like double doors.

Caia’s jaw dropped. “How did you know this was here and I didn’t?”

Phoebe shrugged. “I assumed the archives were public knowledge.”

“Uh-uh.” Caia followed her into a beautiful, well-lit room with no exit. In the middle was another library desk with green bankers’ lamps and bordering the entire room were shelves of books. Walking behind Phoebe, Caia’s gaze fell to the mosaic floor where tales of the gods were depicted in stunning color and splendor. She winced at the sharp tap her flat pumps made against what was surely a masterpiece and should never be trod upon. Phoebe didn’t seem as bothered.

“Here.” She indicated a row of books. “You should find what you need.”

“Phoebe, I need this to stay between us until I’ve done my research.”

The lykan nodded, her mouth firm and her eyes guileless. “Of course. It could be a very good idea, Caia.”

She smiled. “So, if they say yes, you’re in?”

Phoebe snorted. “If there’s a fight, then I’m in.”

“You want to do what?” Benedict screeched, and Caia had to stop herself from laughing at his outrage.

The Council looked at her with a mixture of awe and horror. That could mean anything, right? Lucien smiled up at her encouragingly along with Marion and Reuben. Vanne seemed to be chuckling as if he couldn’t quite believe her gall.

“I think it’s the only way to end this,” she insisted.

“It’s completely insane and out of the question!” Benedict bawled.

Caia narrowed her eyes on him. Okay, he wasn’t so amusing anymore. He was just plain annoying. “Last time I checked, there were eight other people on this Council with a vote.”

He growled at her, “By all means, let us see you humiliated by the rest of my colleagues for your depravity.”

She gasped. “Depravity? I’m not depraved just because I have the courage to actually do something about ending this war!”

“Benedict,” Vanne warned quietly, “insult her again and you will have me to answer to.”

Caia flushed under Vanne’s protectiveness but was glad for it because the warlock immediately blanched and sat down. Despite his place outside the Council, no one had forgotten how powerful Vanne was. Caia noticed Marion throwing him a mournful look. Caia sighed. After this was all over, she was going to have to do something about those two.

“Yes, let’s be civil,” Penelope agreed, before looking up at Caia with worried eyes. “This is quite a proposal, Caia.”

It was. It really, really was. After the trace had gone, Caia had contemplated a measure that would help sort the wheat from the chaff. No matter what happened, there was going to be bloodshed, but Caia reckoned it would be better if the bloodshed happened in one fell swoop and gave them the closure they needed to build a new world for supernaturals.

She thought about the battles that must have been fought many years ago, when honor had been settled on the battlefield. The history books in the library had been of no real use until Phoebe took her into the archives. It was there she learned of the spells cast to summon both covens to a battleground that had been cast in protective magik, shielding it from human eyes. There, those brave enough to fight would convene, and a great bloody battle would be fought until one side had destroyed the other. It was a mighty style of warfare in which even the faeries—who were used only for spying now—shifted into their animal of choice and took part in the combat.

Caia believed they should cast the old spell calling to those Midnights who had no intention of ever making peace with the Daylights to fight them on the battlefield.

“Caia, most, if not all, of the Midnights will show up because their pride and superiority will expect no less of them,” one of the older Council members insisted. “We’ll be completely outnumbered.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You have to trust me. When I had the trace, I felt them all. I felt such a need for accord in them, for unity and harmony, it broke my heart. There are thousands who will meet us on that battlefield, who will never see us as anything but lesser beings, but there are thousands more who will stay home and wait for us to come to them with an offer of peace. Let us destroy those who stand in the way of that.”

She saw the glimmer of hope in their eyes, their indrawn breaths, the way they leaned forward into her words. They wanted to believe but were afraid to do so.