Page 63 of Harnessed in Gold

Leo actually snickers. “Yes.”

I sip my root beer, needing a moment to compose myself. More hysterical giggles threaten to squeak out of me as I sit here, suspended halfway between amused and horrified.

When I’m finally able to speak without choking, I ask, “The macguffin is probably a weaving ring, right? So, just like Brier, wouldn’t Ember have needed the caillecha to weave or tie it or whatever?” I doubt she was smashing any of them if they wouldn’t let her join their circle.

“Yeah, she definitely would’ve needed them,” Leoagrees. “And it doesn’t look like her methods of persuasion were quite as, um, pleasant as Brier’s.”

Pleasant, yes, that’s what we’ll call it.

“Here, I’ll show you what we figured out.” He rises and comes to sit beside me, bringing with him his laptop and his autumn scent.

I resist the urge to squirm. Or run. Or sit on his lap.

In the kitchen, Rime and Topaz squabble like siblings over the mustard and the hummus.

Leo opens a document entitled “Ember’s Reign” and scrolls down to a bulleted list. “I managed to get access to the caillech archives?—”

“How?” Surely they’re sacred and guarded by demon crows or griffins or something.

“I used to… I mean, one of the caillecha is a… a good friend.”

Byfriendhe meanslover. It’s obvious from the way he’s rubbing his chin and staring at the computer keyboard. These so-called priestesses? So not celibate. And me? So not sitting here stewing in jealousy. “What’s her name?”

“Huh?” A flush highlights his cheekbones.

“Your caillech friend. What’s her name?”

“Oh, um, Onyx.”

Seriously?I picture a young woman as beautiful as her name, all bronze skin and jewel-black eyes. Next to her, I’d look like a glob of yogurt. “Pretty.”

He clears his throat and points to his laptop screen. “So, I copied the information from their records, then organized it here.”

Eager to redirect my attention, I take a look. Whatever it is he’s transcribed makes Shakespeare’s English read like fan fiction. The only recognizable word isEmber. “Where did you faeries learn how to spell?”

He smiles. “Trust me, it’s pretty ambiguous, even if you could read it. But the most important clue is here.” He highlights “712” in blue. “That’s the same year that reports of her corrupt magic start popping up. See?” He points haphazardly at the screen as he reads. “‘Commanded wolves to attack villages. Sent aphids to destroy crops?—’”

“But she wove with a plant.”

“Exactly. Whatever this weapon was, she could use it to command any species she wanted—commandthem, regardless of their nature.”

Oh god, if Brier gets his hands on this thing— “That’s not weaving, that’s playing god.”

Leo nods sadly. “It is. And there’s more.”

More? I don’t want more. I’ve had plenty, thank you very much.

“Something else noteworthy happened earlier that year.” He scrolls up and points to the screen yet again. “Four new caillecha were confirmed, all in the same month, which is suspicious enough considering the fact that it takes at least five years for a caillech to become fully initiated. But the total number caillecha also went down instead of up, from eleven to nine.”

I wrangle the numbers in my head. “Then the new ones weren’t additions,” I realize, my blankly staring eyes growing bigger and bigger. “They were replacements.”

I shift my gaze to Leo. He’s watching me, waiting patiently for me to connect the same dots he did.

“Six unaccounted for,” I mumble. “Just suddenly gone from—oh my god, she killed them.”

Leo’s nod is grim. “We think the five who remained were either sympathizers or at least willing to do her bidding. The other six she murdered and replaced with four initiates who were her followers too.”

“And they made her super-ring.”