Chapter 155: The Oddness
>>Aelin
The hall was still, the tension thick. I sat beside Draegon at the long obsidian table, my fingers loosely intertwined in my lap as the Owl Advisor—a tall, stooped creature with round eyes far too perceptive for comfort—cleared his throat.
"Your Majesty," he said, directing his gaze to Draegon. "The missing persons reports are continuing to climb. Patrols are already in place, but... it isn’t slowing."
A murmur of disapproval fluttered through the council chamber.
Vesper, lounging half across her chair with her usual casual elegance, let out a long sigh. "How are people still going missing with so many patrols out already? What are they even doing?"
"They’re leaving," Draken said, his voice hard and flat. "Of their own will. They’re still chasing the promise of power."
I glanced toward him. His crimson eyes were narrowed, unreadable. "You mean the black milk."
He nodded. "The black milk. The corrupted cores. The Abyss. They don’t realize it’s all a trap. They’re not just being recruited—they’re being prepared. Used. We know now that many of them are meant to be sacrificed to open more gates."
My stomach twisted. How far would people go for strength? How many more would disappear before they understood?
"We need to do something about it," I said firmly, sitting forward. "We can’t just wait for more bodies to turn up in uncanny places or never turn up at all."
Draegon’s gaze slid toward me, his nod slow. "We will. I agree."
One of the other advisors—a short demon with curling ram-like horns and sharp, pinched features—spoke next. "We must show the people the truth. Show them what’s really happening. If we don’t let fear fester, they’ll keep walking into the dark with open arms."