Incense poured out from several wooden sconces that sat against ravenwood walls, their small forms dotting the hallway that lead to the study of the Queen of the Night. Sitting on its haunches, a barghest watched the pair of twin doors ahead, its breath catching in the crisp autumn air. Shadows clung to it protectively, hissing and snapping at the air ravenously. The barghest perked its ears for a brief moment, turning its head to stare down towards a spiraling staircase that vanished upwards and downwards. It growled and barred its teeth, spittle falling from its maw as something moved just beyond the reach of the torches that hung from the wall. From the stairs, a silver cat climbed its way into the hallway, its tailing swishing behind it casually. It watched the barghest, sitting down across from it as their eyes locked. The barghest turned its attention away from the cat, returning its vigilant watch of the twin doors of the study. There they stayed for the rest of the night, one staring at a pair of doors that refused to open, and another preparing the next stage of uncommon plans.

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Shayle stood within the confines of her study, her hands gripping the balcony edge as her mind went over the last few days. It had all happened quickly. Druken's body was found massacred in the forest, its throat torn open as if something very large had found him a delicacy. Try as she might, she found no real reason why an outsider would want Druken dead so badly. Unless it was a direct attack from Serenwilde, but the forest would have let me know, she thought to herself. The first pangs of a headache knocked unwelcome on her temples, eliciting an agitated mutter from her as she shook her head. None if it made sense; Druken's sudden death, the being that killed him, and the sense of being watched since the moment his body was found. That final thought made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, the constant feeling she could not shake. It was unnerving. She had tried to contact Viravain, but no answer came of her communion with the Mistress of the Webs. Enough, Shayle. You're letting this get the better of yourself, she scolded with another shake of her head.

A knock came on the twin doors of her study, bringing her away from pondering her own thoughts and back to the immediate moment. What now?, she thought bitterly, making her way to a ravenwood chair that stood before a large desk. "Enter," she said loudly, letting a bit of Night into her voice to cause the person who dared disturb her thoughts to quickly open the door and shut it behind himself. Shamarah stood with his head bowed, his eyes not daring to meet Shayle's. She frowned inwardly at his behavior, her eyes narrowing slightly enough to show she was far from amused. "What is it, Shamarah?"

"My Queen, another body was found with the same torn throat as Druken," he said quickly, knowing full well now was not the time to falter in his words. Shayle cursed herself and the Fates repeatedly in her mind, using every unladylike word she could think of.

"Sit," she said, as if Shamarah were nothing more than a subservient pet. He quickly sat down in one of the two large, full-back chairs that stood facing the desk. Shayle turned away from him and stared at a tapestry that had recently been donated to the Shadowdancers by a skilled artisan. She found herself trapped within the scene it portrayed; a barghest howling at a blackened sky, with a silver cat sitting with its piercing blue eyes facing her. In the background, the Master Ravenwood Tree stood with its branches slithering towards a starless horizon as if starving for the shadows that hung just beyond its grasp. A cough from behind brought her from the tapestry's hypnotic scene, back to a study she was dreading to stand in at the moment. "Who was it?" she asked, keeping enough Night in her voice to bend Shamarah's will beneath her own. Still, she held her back to him, with her hands clasped behind her.

"It was Arkzrael, my Queen," he said, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. Shayle spun around and stared at him, his head still bowed and his eyes staring at his hands that were held in his lap. The revelation shook her enough that she had to put a hand on the back of her chair, her mind swimming with news.

"No....Are you sure? Arkzrael?" she hissed, her nails digging into the chair deep enough to leave puncture marks. Shamarah nodded, his eyes still not meeting hers. She let herself fall into the chair, her hands coming to her brow as she felt her stomach turn. Arkzrael. Fates be damned, Arkzrael. She had just spoken with Arkzrael only yesterday, just as the sun had fallen beyond the horizon and Mother Night had swarmed the heavens. "How long was she dead?" she asked, not daring to believe that one of her most trusted Shadowdancers was indeed gone.

"No more than a few hours. The wounds were fresh and the body hadn't entered into the decomposing stages, my Queen," Shamarah replied, his voice carrying with it a haunting sound that sounded too much like despair. Shayle nodded and shut down her emotions completely, putting them aside to allow herself time to analyze this new addition of news.

"Thank you, Shamarah. Please prepare a Ritual of Penumbra with the Shadowdancers immediately," she said hoarsely, her voice threatening to break beneath the deafening silence that clung to the room. "I will be there shortly to lead it." Shamarah nodded, his face not rising to meet Shayle's watch. With a slight bow, he opened the twin doors and left Shayle in her study. She stared at the closed doors, letting herself lean back into her chair. Whoever this is killing my Shadowdancers will pay a very large and very painful price, she swore as she stood abruptly, causing the chair to skid backwards and hit the tapestry behind her. Its rocking scene caught her attention, bringing her into its picture again. The barghest's up-lifted mouth howling at the night caused her skin to crawl uncomfortably, with the cat's piercing blue eyes watching her with an almost eerie intelligence. She shuddered and turned her head to stare again at the twin doors. "Run, you bastard. Run as fast as you can. When I find you, not even the gods will be able to save you from my hands," she said to the empty room, her eyes glaring at the doors as if they were the murderer. Shayle vanished in torrent of shadows, her presence leaving the silent study to bury one that she had called her own.

-----

Shamarah closed the study doors behind him, his head still bowed. As the doors clicked into place, he rose his head and walked to the middle of the hallway. He caught sight of a silver cat that rose his head at the sound of his approaching footsteps, its softly glowing eyes considering him for a moment. His lips curved up into a cruel grin, making the cat give a cautious hiss to the sudden change in his appearance. He threw back his head and let a blood-chilling howl ring through Night's Needle, spreading out into the dark forest of Glomdoring like a chilling omen of death to come. As Shamarah's canine-like howl filled the forest, his body arched and twisted itself. Bones crunched together while fur sprouted from the pores of his skin. Finally, the same barghest that had been watching the doors before stood before the silver cat. Its cold, calculating green eyes glowed sickly from within the thick cover of shadows that clung to its black coat of fur. The cat stood and watched the barghest for a moment longer, something kin to a mischievous smile spreading across its tiny mouth before it turned around and sauntered off down the spiral staircase, its tail disappearing within the darkness below. The barghest watched the cat disappear, before it glanced over its shoulder to the twin doors of the Queen of the Night's study. A heavy growl thundered in its throat, its eyes narrowing and its fur standing on end. Following suit to the silver cat, the barghest bounded down the stairs and out of sight.

The last vestiges of night clung to the Living Forest, an autumn breeze rustling the leaves on brooding trees that refused to look away from a pair of creatures that moved beneath their boughs. A woman's tormented scream pierced the silence of a nearby Ritual of Penumbra being held by a towering tree who's branches clung at the night sky hungrily. Beyond the forest, day was returning with a cold vengeance, and night was fleeing the basin until the hour of her next callous reign.

So now that the "truth" behind the barghest has been revealed (or so I've lead), what are your thoughts on the plot so far? Interested in some input from my readers.