Scala by Christina Bauer Page B

and this is my responsibility.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œSure, I’m sure.” Total lie.
    â€œOkay,” says Cissy. “We’re on.” She pushes the door open and steps out first. The crowd on the Embassy lawn goes crazy. Two lines of Purgatory police in black riot gear hold back the mob on either side of us, creating a makeshift aisle to the front door. Dozens of flash bulbs go off in my face. Everyone yells questions at once. It’s an assault without weapons, and that awakens my inner wrath demon. I snap into battle-mode, my mind quickly running through strategies galore. My next step instantly becomes clear.
    Get your goddess on, Myla.
    Taking a deep breath, I step out into the fray. Lincoln walks beside me, taking my hand in his. Together, we stroll through the thin aisle made by the Purgatorypolice. I scan the crowd in a way that says: I can send you to Hell in an instant, so back the fuck off.
    It works. The aisle becomes less crowded, fewer flash bulbs go off and the questions die down.
    So far, so good.
    Lincoln and I follow Cissy through the Thrax Embassy until we reach a small auditorium in the back of the castle. Cissy’s told me about this place. It’s where Dignitaries run free seminars for quasis on topics like ‘why the thrax are color coded’, ‘how to make sure we won’t kill you on sight’, that kind of thing.
    Today, the small auditorium is crammed with reporters, all of them jostling for position. Up front, a tiny stage holds a podium decorated with the crest of Rixa, Lincoln’s House. Along the back of the platform stand Mom, Dad and Adair. The crowd is a sea of strange faces, except for Walker. Seeing his encouraging smile makes me feel better. It means a lot that he hustled over here on short notice.
    Cissy, Lincoln, and I press our way through the crowd. As we move along, Adair stares at Lincoln in a way that’s somewhere between adoration and rage. She’s so creepy, it isn’t funny.
    Once we step onto the stage, Lincoln turns to me. “Mind if I kick things off? The podium has my crest on it, after all.” I glance over to Mom, quickly shifting my pointer finger between Lincoln and the podium. She nods quickly.
    Excellent. That nod means that Lincoln’s good to go.
    â€œMom says it’s fine. Have fun.” I kiss Lincoln on his cheek. Several lightning bolts worth of flash bulbs go off.
    â€œThank you.” Lincoln steps up to the podium and taps on the microphone. An electronic thud-thud echoes through the auditorium. The crowd quiets.
    Lincoln scans the room, his chin held high, and crown perfectly centered on his head. He looks very regal and badass. “Good evening, everyone. I am Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus, High Prince of the House of Rixa. This is my Embassy and these are my Diplomats who run it. For the record, this emergency press conference was called without my approval. Anything said here tonight does not represent the full will and opinion of those who rule Antrum.” He stalks to the back wall of the stage and glares at Adair, who quickly rushes up to the podium.
    â€œHello, I’m Adair, the Great Lady of the House of Acca, rulers of Antrum for countless millennia. I was also first to be initiated the Scala Heir after Maxon Bane.”
    Fresh anger pulses through me. The first to be initiated? What the what? Adair’s entire initiation ceremony was a fake. She admitted so herself. And it was one thing when Adair spewed out this garbage to Lincoln and me. It’s another thing to say it to the press.
    Adair gestures to Lincoln. “I thank my esteemed colleague for his introduction, but I can assure you that the royal family was made perfectly aware of this emergency press conference. So, without further ado, I would like to officially announce the initial findings of my investigation into the dangers of the Ghost Towers.”
    The room goes quiet and Adair scans the room,