Wraith Walker

Chapter 8

      No one spoke for several moments after the door closed. Tamsin let out a low breath. The Wraiths quickly broke position, Helisant taking long strides to stand in front of the dais. Ymayne, Miriald, and Iola took to a front row pew and Thiphania turned sharply to the window behind her, long braids cutting through the air. Only at Court were they forced to be formal with one another, but that had never been how they operated. They were all friends, some of them more than that. Some had gone from friends to lovers, and lovers to friends, but after spending a few decades together that was bound to happen.

     Sasha took his crown off and set it on the floor to the right of the throne before running a hand through his dark hair. His eyes met Tamsin's.

     "What do you think?" He asked.

      She shrugged, trying to remember every word, every detail. 

     "I....don't know what to think. It seems likely he's telling the truth? Especially if there's another territory involved. I don't know why he would be here if it wasn't true."

     "The whole fucking thing is off." Helisant cut in, her voice sharp. "Did you see how he looked at the table? He could smell the blood. He knew we had a Canin in here. I bet he's pissed we took one of his."

     "But he wasn't a Canin." Tamsin said. "Not in the citizen sense. He was Witch."

     "His story doesn't make any sense." Helisant pushed back. "His scout—who didn't say a fucking word, mind you—said he saw something. But couldn't tell us what that was? And they haven't been able to catch her? And she's a child? There's no way. Who can't track and capture a child?"

     "A Seer." Miriald piped up. She was laying down on the pew, head in Iola's lap, long red hair hanging nearly to the floor and twisting a string around her finger, deep in thought. "She's not just a child, she's the Seer."

     Helisant's face was incredulous. She rolled her eyes, every word dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah okay, the child Seer. That makes sense."

     She turned back to Sasha and Tamsin.

     "I don't know what this is, but it smells like a trap. Filyrr has never been trustworthy—none of the Canin are. You remember the solstice deal a few years ago?"

     Of course she did. How could she forget? During Midsummer three years ago when the Canins were at their full power, a performing troupe of humans had been reported missing and later found slaughtered in northern Gedepaen, just a few miles from the Kendecier border. Several Canin had been found feasting on the carrion. The survivor of the group claimed they had been invited by the palace to perform at the solstice event, but they turned out to be the entertainment instead of the entertainers. Their group of nearly fifty had been hunted in the rocky terrain during the full moon, with the sole survivor hiding in a deep in a bog to cover his scent until it was safe to make the scramble for the Kendecier border in the morning.

     The Canin denied this, of course, simply stating that they had never invited the troupe to perform and that they had trespassed on the land. Doing so had breached the laws of hospitality: the humans camped on their land, soiled their land with their waste, stole the fruit from the trees, and drank the water without being offered any. So the Canin killed them, as was their right. Merrant, the High King of the Continent, had not bought the tale, but without proof of an invitation from the troupe or its investors, he had bowed to the ancient laws of hospitality at the end of the inquest and the Canin had thus far gone unpunished.

     Filyrr and his court had behaved remarkably well since then, rarely sending men outside of the territory save for the few trade deals and court events they normally attended. Though Tamsin supposed Filyrr and his companions could have stirred up some trouble on the journey to Tyanth and they just hadn't heard about it yet. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he would behave poorly on the trek back either, or even tonight, but she couldn't slight him for something he hadn't done yet. The last three years had been quiet, not just for them, but for the surrounding territories as well.