The Iron Butterfly by Chanda Hahn Page A

fuzzy feeling in my head. She listened quietly while I told her everything, even the bits I refused to tell Joss and Darren, only pausing to collect my thoughts and feelings when it became too painful to tell. Partway through I felt a faint prickling at the back of my mind. When the question and answer session was over, Lorna paused in her thoughts.
    “And you have no clue to the real identity of the leader of the Septori, this Raven?” She sounded frustrated.
    I shook my head.
    “What about the Septori, do you know what country they were from? How many there are in total? Were there any signs that they were alleged with the King of Sinnendor?” With another negative shrug from me, she stood up and began to pace in front of her desk, a slight wear pattern evident in the tan rug showing that this was a regular occurrence. Stopping abruptly mid stride she turned and began a new set of questions.
    “How many in the cells were Denai, how many human?” She got a quill and began to write.
    I recounted how many I knew of including the ones that had passed away or disappeared. “What do you think the Septori were doing?” I asked.
    “We need to discuss this with the other Adepts, especially Kambel Silverbane, our resident historian, who just arrived shortly before you.” She pulled on a small pull cord and a page quickly appeared. Lorna scribbled a message on a slip of ivory parchment before handing it to the page. “Come.”
    Following Lorna down a series of back stairways and hallways I soon lost all sense of direction. Our destination was a large meeting room with heavy drapes covering the windows and obscuring all outside light. Candles were the only light within the room which lit up a large, framed map on the wall. Closer examination of the table showed a duplicate map of the lands of Calandry, Sinnendor, and the other surrounding provinces burned into the wood with an artistic hand. This must be the Adept’s council room. Adept Lorna nodded for me to take my seat. A lone chair sat in the middle of the room and it looked suspiciously like the same ones she kept in her office; hard and uncomfortable.
    We didn’t wait long before the main door burst open to a whirlwind of yellow robes and fluttering hands. It was Adept Breah Avenlea with her shoulder-length, brown hair. She was dressed in a soft yellow dress and was talking animatedly to Kambel Silverbane, who looked every inch the part of a historian.
    Adept Kambel was short and slim with wavy, unkempt gray hair that disappeared into his long gray beard. His intuitive brown eyes peeked out of small silver spectacles. Ink spots littered his somber green robe and the tips of his beard, as if he would accidentally dip his beard in the ink instead of a quill. They were quite the comedic pair, long slender Breah talking with her hands in a frenzy and short Kambel bobbing his head in agreement to what she was saying. It looked like Adept Breah was conducting a symphony and that Kambel’s head was the orchestra.
    The mood abruptly changed when the door opened again and the largest man I had ever seen entered the room. He was dark as night with a bold demeanor and muscular stature, dressed all in shades of black. Three silver slashes marked the collar of his shirt. The same slashes matched his banner and identified him as Adept Pax Baton. His shaved head reflected the candlelight and the small gold earring he wore looked too delicate for the warrior’s frame. He strode into the room and took a seat at the table which looked like a child’s tea table in comparison. Surprisingly he expertly maneuvered his frame into the seat and spread his long legs out before him.
    “I’m glad you got my missive,” Lorna stood and waited while Adept Breah and Kambel took their seats. “It’s unfortunate that I had to send Cirrus away this morning, but this can’t wait for him.” She quickly relayed both my story and Darren and Joss’ tale of finding me floating in the