Our meal appeared on the table. Today, the kobolds had prepared a hearty venison stew for me and an assortment of nuts and berries for the dryad. Loaves of fragrant, crusty bread covered a silver platter between us, and steam rose from a teapot painted with delicate cherry blossoms, a gift from a kitsune who had befriended my mother long ago.
My stomach cramped at the sights and smells of the spread, and I picked up my fork and tucked into my stew. The kobolds’ magic enabled them to prepare each dish specifically to satisfythe palate of the diner, and, as always, the fare exceeded expectations.
“Your suffering is unnecessary.” Standing, she produced a packet, seemingly from thin air, and glided over to dump it into my teacup.
I eyed the concoction, swallowing my bite as she lifted the teapot and added the brew. “I have much to do today.”
“This will merely ease the pain. It will not put you back to sleep,” she assured me.
The dryad had never lied to me, and pain relief would only help me accomplish my goals, so I lowered my fork long enough to cool the brew with a breath and drain it.
“How did you fare in the dream world?” Catori asked, returning to her seat. “Did the thief disclose anything of use?”
“No. I infiltrated her mind for a time, but she realized she was dreaming and escaped before I could extract any answers.”
Catori’s expression grew thoughtful. “She must be quite powerful, then.”
“She is small and wields no magic. How powerful can she be?”
The side of the dryad’s mouth tilted up. “She bested you, hatchling.”
I took another bite as I considered my response. “She surprised me, granting her an advantage she will not get again.”
“Tricky and perceptive.”
“And dead once I find her and exact my answers.” Emerald eyes flashed through my mind, chased by a host of confusing emotions, and most likely brought on by my injuries. Irritated, I redirected the conversation. “How did your research go?”
“I uncovered many theories about wolf shifters, or werewolves as some authors refer to the creatures, but an alarming number of the beliefs mentioned are unsubstantiated and even contradictory.” She tutted in annoyance. “Thoughts should only be penned by those with first-hand experience. Hearsay makes it impossible to differentiate factfrom fable.”
“Dragons feel the same, I assure you.” Most of our knowledge was passed down through memories stored in our hoards and accessible only to those in our bloodline.
Footsteps preceded Tyrin’s entrance. “It’s common practice for magical races to intentionally pen misinformation to keep others from uncovering dangerous truths,” he observed, giving me a quick bow as he strode through the door. “Pardon my intrusion, m’lord. Catori.”
“Hello, Tyrin.” A welcoming smile stretched across the dryad’s face. “Will you join us for this meal?”
“Thank you, but I ate with the others.” Turning to me, he added, “I only stopped by to check in and advise you that Leander has prepared a vat of silver, should you want to imbue Silentium with it.”
“Are you certain silver is toxic to them?” I asked, even as an ancestor’s memory tugged at the back of my mind, confirming the information.
“The werewolves I have tangled with in the past have reacted poorly to the metal, yes.”
I nodded and swallowed my bite before gesturing at the chair between Catori and me. “I will go see Leander after I eat. Sit with us.”
He acquiesced, and another teacup appeared as he took a seat.
“When was the last time you heard from my sire?” I asked as Tyrin poured himself a cup.
His mouth quirked to the side as he considered the question. “A few months ago. He sent word that he was following another lead on your mother’s murderer. He would have felt the ward fall, though, so I expect we will see him soon.”
“With any luck, he will appear before I leave.”
“When exactly is that?” Tyrin asked.
I flexed my chest, pleasantly surprised to find that the pain had eased significantly due to Catori’s remedy. “The day after tomorrow. Willyou accompany me?”
He dipped his head in acceptance. “It would be my honor. Will we take anyone else?”
“No. I will not risk the safety of the estate any more than I must.” I had considered leaving Tyrin behind as well, but my knowledge of the world outside the hedge came from ancestral memories, books, and the stories of my people. The gargoyles had been nomads before Ieshim called on Tyrin to fulfill his life debt. And as my húskarl, he would do everything in his power to ensure I made it safely home.
