Page 53 of No Charm Done
“—you’re being dramatic—”
“—you’re being naive—”
“—what about my phone?!—”
The transcription machine gave up, typing “[indecipherable shrieking continues]” on a loop.
“Hoo boy,” Elias said, sotto voce. “This is swell.”
“Helen Keller could’ve seen it coming.”
“Hey, that’s swell! I actually understand that reference!”
Kelly was shouting for calm, Conrad battering his poor gavel, the whole room pitched toward a brawl when Aphra suddenly stood. “Is it even worth all this?” she asked. “Maybe we should just . . . let it go.”
All debate collapsed into a sudden, unnerving stillness, like everyone had forgotten what they were about to say. Even the transcription machine hiccupped and stopped.
Aphra didn’t traffic in despair, not ever. If she was leaning toward surrender, then the town really was on the edge of something they wouldn’t come back from.
“Are we considering surrender?” someone asked.
“They’re going to give up,” Luna whispered to Elias, her voice thin with disbelief. “We’re just going to . . . let it happen.”
He studied her face, filled with worry, frustration, and a desperate need to do something. A century ago, he’d likely have walked away from the whole mess. But that was before Luna Melrose had dragged him out of the Void and made him remember what it felt like to care about something. “Never fear. I get far worse at the track. But I always bet anyway.”
Then he stood. “You know what this reminds me of?” His voice carried easily across the deflated crowd. “Every poker game I ever lost was by folding too early.”
A few nervous chuckles. Elias felt the room’s attention pivot toward him. Good. Hooked ’em.
“Now, I’m a stranger here, obviously and—”
“—and a magician,” spat Jerusha. “But please, do tell us how to save ourselves.”
“Mr. Shaw is our guest,” Kelly announced. “He was imprisoned by his own kind for a century. And when some of us were cast into the Void, it was Mr. Shaw who kept us safe. The least we can do is hear him out. Please, Mr. Shaw. The floor is yours.”
“Well.” Elias cleared his throat. “If you truly want to end Ashton Vex, you don’t make him vanish. You make him spectacular. Public. Let him sell himself to investors, let him climb as high as he can possibly climb.” Elias paused, letting the idea settle. “And then you pull the rug. Leave him with nothing.”
The room stirred, skepticism and curiosity mingling.
“Are you saying you want to con him?” Aphra asked.
“I want to let him con himself,” Elias corrected. “Give him enough rope, as they say.”
“That’s insane,” someone muttered.
“This is practical,” Luna shot back. “We can’t fight an app, but we can fight a man.”
“It’s too risky,” Priti said. “If anything goes wrong, if anyone finds out—”
“If it goes wrong, the world learns more about magic than we’ve revealed in three hundred years,” Delilah finished.
Jerusha rose again. “Collaborating with a magician is absolutely out of the question. I have concluded that we are all overreacting. After all, alchemists have tried to create gold for thousands of years and never cracked it. Perhaps patience is the best course. CastR will fail, and this too shall pass. I prefer caution to disaster.”
That’s when Violet struck.
The teenager had been hunched over her phone for the entire meeting, face lit by the glow, expression set to terminal boredom. Everyone assumed she was occupied with some teenage nonsense not worth paying attention to. This turned out to be a mistake.
Violet abruptly stood, holding her phone high over her head. The screen blazed, flooding the hall with cold white light. Suddenly, the sound in the room muffled, as if everyone was trapped beneath a layer of thick, rippling water. A shockwave of power rolled across the room, like a bright invisible thunderclap. She had launched a spell from her phone.
