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With a frown, I shrugged. "True. It also crossed my thoughts that we might be dealing with a rogue Corpse Talker, because of the missing hearts. As for the mummification angle, I have no idea what's going on with that."
Camille frowned. "That's an interesting possibility. Corpse Talkers always take the heart."
"Yeah," I said, shuddering. We'd witnessed the creatures in action. Each time, I was left feeling vaguely nauseated and afraid. "One thing's for sure. Somebody's brutally killing the Weres in his clan. I'd like both of you to go out there with me Saturday evening."
"Of course," Camille said. Menolly nodded. Trillian pouted until I told him he was welcome, too, and then he declined.
"I just wanted to feel welcome," he said, blinking those icy cold and taunting eyes at me. Camille slapped him, and he gave her a look that would have frozen me cold in my tracks but just set her laughing.
"We'd better start researching everything we can find out about Jansshi demons. We have to know their vulnerabilities, if they have any," Menolly said. "What worries me is that Trenyth said they're stupid. If the Jansshi demon's the brawn, who the hell is playing the brains of the squad? I'm not looking forward to finding out who else we're up against."
"You and me both," I muttered.
Just then, a peal of chimes echoed from upstairs. They could only mean one thing.
"The Whispering Mirror," Camille said, jumping to her feet. She raced toward the steps and up to her study, the rest of us hot on her heels.
The Whispering Mirror had been set up by the Wizards Guild and served the same purpose as a video telephone, linking us to home. Considering that our city was on the verge of civil war, we hadn't been surprised that news was barely trickling out from Y'Elestrial. The OIA had been out of touch with us for over a month, Earthside time. We were worried enough that we'd been discussing making a trip back home to see if Father was okay.
A member of the Guard, he was faithful to Court and Crown, but his loyalty had been put to the test by our troll of a Queen. Well, not a real troll. She was prettier and didn't live under a bridge. But Lethesanar was an opium fiend and had a particularly cruel taste for torture. Last we heard, our father was doing his best to play it neutral, but the time was coming when his loyalty would be tested. If he chose to follow his conscience, then he'd be in danger. The Queen treated traitors as kindly as Menolly treated the pervs she called a Happy Meal.
Camille slid into a chair in front of the Whispering Mirror, which was mounted on the wall beneath a desk and covered by a black velvet cloth. She yanked away the velvet as Menolly and I leaned over her shoulders. Trillian rested himself against the doorjamb.
Framed by the magical silver mined from deep within the Nebelvuori Mountains back in Otherworld, the glass shone with a faint bluish light and the mist within whirled, a chaotic vortex waiting for the right voice to open the link from one dimension to another.
"Camille," she said. The mirror worked on principles much like vox software for computers. After living Earthside for a while, I was beginning to think that the FBHs were gaining on us. I'd developed a fascination for their technology—well, ours, too, considering our mother was human—and I had taken to the computer like a cat in a field of catnip.
After a moment the mist in the mirror began to swirl, then cleared, and we found ourselves staring into our father's face. He and Camille were spitting images of one another. I favored our mother, and Menolly's looks were a genetic throwback to some unknown ancestor.
Medium height, of trim build, Father's hair was the same color as Camille's—raven black—though he wore it in a tightly bound braid. His eyes were the same as hers, too. Violet with silver specks. He was out of uniform and, by the scene in the background, he was at home. Most of the guards who had been in the Des'Estar any length of time had Whispering Mirrors in their homes.
I leaned in and blew him a kiss. "Hey, we were worried about you. What's up?"
He blinked once, then a soft smile grazed his lips. "You remind me so much of your mother, rest her soul." He scanned our anxious faces, his brow lined with furrows that hadn't been there a year ago. "Menolly? How are you doing, child?" He still hadn't fully adjusted yet to the fact that she was a vampire. His long-standing hatred for the undead was tempered only by the reality that his own daughter was one of the afflicted.
She gave him an affected nod, but I could tell they were glad to see one another. "Can't complain. Not much, at least."
Camille cleared her throat. "It's so good to hear from you," she added, relief flooding her voice. "We were thinking of making a trip home to see you."
"What's going on?" I broke in. "Are you okay? Is the war going to be over before it even begins?" Ever the optimist, even I knew the answer to my last question. But hey, hope made living worthwhile.
"Over? No, my girls, it's just beginning. The sides are drawn. The goblins have forged a treaty with Lethesanar and are sending in troops. The Svartans and elves back Tanaquar's claim. The Elfin Queen has officially forged a truce with the King of Svartalfheim, offering manpower and weapons. As you can imagine, her decision has turned heads."
"No doubt," I murmured. The Svartans and elves were born enemies, both lines springing from a single race millennia ago. Somewhere along the line, the race had divided, and the Svartans moved into the shadows while the elves stayed in the light. For them to join forces meant the shit really had hit the fan.
Father didn't know that Queen Asteria had drafted us into her service. Technically, we were traitors to the Court and Crown, but when caught between a cliff and a demon, jumping over the edge starts to look like a damned good idea.
He let out a slow, long breath. "I have little time today, and there are things you must know. Your lives may depend on it."
That sobered us up. "Don't tell me they managed to resurrect Bad Ass Luke somehow," I said. "Demons and zombies and ghouls, oh my!"
"This is serious, Delilah," Father said, glancing over his shoulder. I could see the glass bell clock Mother had taken with her to OW when she married our father and crossed between worlds for good. "My shift starts soon, so listen and listen good."
"Yes, sir," I said, staring at the ground.
He cleared his throat. "Word has it that Lethesanar is about to mount a direct attack on the city of Svartalfheim. My conscience won't allow me to take part. I'm a loyalist to Court and Crown, not to a drug-addled, power-crazed warmonger who no longer can see what stands before her. If we go to battle against Svartalfheim, then…" His expression said everything. Our father was gearing up to desert the Guard, and he'd be skewered if he was caught.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
