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“I’ve repaired most of the damage, as you can see,” Berel was saying. “But the renegades destroyed my spore prints from those Dilt strains I managed to get last summer.” She gestured to the splintered remains of a small shed, which Verve began to examine.
“A group of shape-changers,” Verve murmured, fingering a tuft of wiry hair that had gotten caught on what was left of the door frame. “A boar — a big one. And… A lion.” She knelt to examine a paw print the farmer hadn’t destroyed during her quest to salvage her livelihood. “And a deer of some kind. Bigger than a fleet, but similar.”
She followed the path of destruction deeper into the farmer’s steading, Alem and Berel at her heels while Ivet watched from afar. Verve didn’t consider herself a master tracker, but a week or so later, these mages had left a trail that even blind Dannel could have followed.
“They fought here,” Verve said, glancing around at the splintered remains of the mushroom logs. “The boar gouged the deer—part of their antler broke off—” she picked up the piece of antler and tossed it to Alem, “but the lion caught the boar, probably by the throat, given the amount of blood. Boars are tough, though. It must have gotten free and run off…” She straightened and looked into the thick forest about twenty meters away, where a telltale patch of broken branches heralded the boar-mage’s escape. “And the lion and deer continued fighting. The lion…”
“Won, I imagine,” said Berel, glaring at the broken logs. “Wish they’d killed each other.”
“They might have,” Verve replied. She scuffed the dirt with the toe of her boot to reveal a bloody claw and another piece of antler. “The prints are too far gone to tell for sure now, but I’d wager the shiftlings continued their fight to the last. Just not here,” she added, looking back at Berel. “Did you see them?”
The mushroom farmer shuddered. She was older than Verve, in her late thirties, and wore a colorful shawl reminiscent of Dannel’s weaving. “No. Klaret and I were still asleep. She’d just returned from a hunt.” Her voice broke. “If she’d still been out there when those… those mages attacked…”
Alem put a hand on Berel’s shoulder, and the farmer leaned into his side, tears streaming down her face. “It’s all right,” the healer murmured gently. “You’re safe, now. Klaret’s safe.”
“But for how long?” Berel asked. She looked at Verve with red-rimmed eyes. “You’ll kill them all, won’t you? Tell me you’ll kill those monsters.”
“We can’t sink to their level,” Alem said. “Verve agreed to protect Lotis, not go looking for trouble.”
“Trouble’s already found you,” Verve replied. “I agreed to do whatever’s necessary to keep Lotis and its people safe.” She dug around in her coin purse. “If you don’t like it, I’ll return the fee and be on my merry way.”
Alem glowered, but Verve had judged Berel correctly, for the other woman pressed her palms together, beseeching. “Stay. Please. Do what you must. I can’t live like this any longer. I just want Klaret and I to be left in peace.”
Alem ground his jaw. “So do I, but more death isn’t the answer.”
“Alem,” Ivet said softly. “This is where your road has led. Will you turn back now?”
Something passed between them, some tension Verve couldn’t name, so she filed the information away for later.
At last, Alem shook his head and looked away. “Just don’t… kill unless you must,” he murmured to Verve. “Please.”
Some strange inclination made Verve nod, made her reply just as gentle as his request. “I never do.”
