The Turquoise Tower (Revenant Wyrd Book 6) by Travis Simmons Page A

come on,” Aladestra said, slapping her hands on the marbled table top. “I know I’m supposed to be impartial in these things and come to a fair conclusion, but even I have to say that summation is absurd, Azra. You are always looking in the shadows, waiting for some new horror to jump out at you. By chance you were lucky in guessing about your shadow in the west, but this is ridiculous.
    “If Mag was waiting for the opportune time, why would she have used such a minor incident as clearing up wreckage to attack? What did she gain? She’s locked away in her room, shackled and bewyrded against using her powers. What did that gain for Arael?” Aladestra leaned forward, fire in her eyes, and her grip firm on Azra’s wrist.
    Azra didn’t say anything, only chewed on her tongue. Sara let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. All Azra was doing was fueling the fire for Rowan, and she spoke nonsense. Everyone was silent.
    “Now, where do we stand?” Aladestra asked. “All in favor of execution, raise your hands.”
    Sara held her breath, but clasped her hands before her. She hoped that Pyang still sided with her.
    Azra raised her free hand, but kept her eyes averted, not meeting anyone’s stare. It had to be hard hearing honestly what the other Guardians thought of her, and in some way Sara’s heart went out to her.
    Rowan seemed to consider it for a moment, weighing what had just been said. She wasn’t exempt from thinking Azra was a little befuddled sometimes, but when she heard the term alarist, Rowan was likely to kill first, ask questions later. She raised her hand.
    Pyang looked around the room, and shook his head. “It’s a shame that we aren’t more trusting. I understand the need for safety, but Mag is a friend of mine, and has proven herself dedicated to the Goddess. I can only assume what happened today was a mistake. I will not vote for her death.”
    “Alright, so we’re split,” Aladestra said. She wouldn’t cast a vote. Aladestra had been elected by the other Guardians as the judge in this case. Rowan and Azra no doubt voted for her thinking her anger at having her city attacked would bring her in their favor. Pyang and Sara knew better and had elected Aladestra because they knew she was the one out of all of them with the clearest of heads. “Mag will remain imprisoned. I’m not certain she can be trusted, but she’s proven that she’s a great asset, and so I would hate to kill her for something that might be nothing more than a mistake.”
    Azra didn’t wait for Aladestra to finish speaking before she stormed out of the room in a flurry of green silk.
    “I trust your ruling,” Rowan said, bowing her head. “And while I don’t agree with it, I’m sure you’ve weighed all our concerns and came to a favorable conclusion.”
    “This is only temporary,” Aladestra told them all. “I will put together more evidence and decide later if we should release her or end her life. If only we had a verax-acis.” She shook her head.
    Sara was happy they didn’t have any of the mind pillagers in the city. She didn’t agree with the form of torture they used just to extract a measly bit of intelligence.
    Yes, Rowan and Azra would like nothing more than to have one of those pasty-faced freaks rummaging around in Mag’s head.

    Grace stood against the wall of the sterile infirmary, gazing at her dearest of friends through a haze of tears. The light reflecting off the whitewashed walls and the muted green hangings created webs of light across her vision. She didn’t bother to wipe her face as the first of the tears began to fall.
    Surgery had already been done on Rosalee, removing the tangle of bone and muscle that had become of her leg when the large roof crashed down on them. It was only a matter of luck that Rosalee hadn’t been taken from Grace completely.
    Grace’s eyes roamed over her friend’s ruined leg. It was wrapped in bandages, bloody where the stump was. Grace