The Valley of Lies (Lightkeepers #1)

Chapter ELEVEN: Zan

Under the cover of darkness, behind a stinking tannery that had closed up shop, Zan Changed for the second time that evening. The satyr-sized loincloth slipped to the ground, dusting the grime-coated street. The fabric spread out around him in a huge ring as he stood on all fours, stretching the feeling into his furry black limbs one at a time.

Becoming a cat was child's play. Zan took this form so often he hardly felt the Change anymore. The limited ability to communicate was inconvenient, but his fangs and claws spoke for themselves most times. Luckily, people avoided black cats out of superstition. Folktales portrayed them as witches' familiars or demonic creatures of darkness, and few were willing to risk that the myths were true so close to the Coven.

Zan slunk back to the Gidaran's tent, clinging to shadows. He could hear Sorar and Rika murmuring to each other as he lifted a back corner of the tent with a paw and slid underneath into one of their private rooms. It was dark, but his night vision was excellent. If he'd done this earlier, he might have saved himself an hour's trouble, but he hadn't known what to expect. He certainly couldn't have known that a spooky enigma would appear with just the type of story he was after. A tale the Triumvirate and the free Darkbane would fight to know first? It sounded too good to be true, which meant it probably was. But the stranger had been powerful. Whatever it had done to the Gidaran had frightened them out of their seats, which had to count for something.

"Do you believe his tale?" Rika asked her brother.

Zan couldn't see the duo from his perch, but he could tell they were close to one another, probably still sitting around the table Sorar had knocked across the floor.

"No," Sorar answered flatly. "I might have been better inclined to listen if he hadn't opened with that amateur's line, 'tale of a lifetime.'"

Rika chuckled. Zan's cat body vibrated with rage. How dare they call him an amateur? So what if he had never bartered with the Gidaran before? He knew what he was doing. He'd been out on these streets seeking answers and possibilities for years. He was no amateur.

"Imagine if it's true, though. It would make more sense of Blackwater's rejuvenation than the storms. You have to admit he had a point, brother."

Zan gloated, puffing his furred chest. You should have listened to me, Rika.

"It's nothing compared to the wraith's tale."

Zan waited with breath held, but Sorar declined to elaborate. It was his sister who eventually spoke again: "I'm not sure it was a wraith. Aren't they fairly stupid creatures?"

Zan agreed, and he knew enough wraiths to form an educated opinion on the matter.

"If it wasn't a wraith, it was something else from beyond, something old and long dead. You felt it leeching on your memories, too. I'm not sure it didn't steal years of our lives. I'd have turned it in to the guards if I thought they'd have offered us the least bit of help. But we were lucky to be given space for a tent."

"Do you believe what it said?" Rika sounded nervous.

Zan leaned in, shivering in his dainty paws, his cat lips curled back. Finally. He was ready for this.

"Who knows?" Sorar answered nonchalantly.

Zan might have screamed if he wasn't a cat. They'd told him they were certain the information was legitimate!

"It could be why the ley lines are active, though. If the barrier separating the cursed elves from this realm is failing, it may affect them. Just think, Sorar. What will the free Darkbane do if their brethren return? Do you think they'll revolt?"

"Even if they do, it will do them little good. They would have to overthrow the witches to gain back their magic. I wouldn't bet on them winning."

"We don't know that for certain. It's just a rumor. If things went back to the way they used to be before the war, that would be something." Rika sighed, a deep and throaty rumble that shook the ground under Zan's paws. But he hardly heard it. He was dashing into the wind, bolting for his treehouse, exalting in victory.

"Yes, yes, yes!" The sound escaped his transformed throat as a strangled meow.

Twice now, he'd heard it-–the ley lines were active! The cursed elves would be free soon, and with them Zan might finally get the chance to save his sister.

He couldn't wait to get back to the Coven.