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The Age of Supremacy: Part 2 of 5 by Tacita
Winner for December 2012
The Age of Supremacy: Part 2
A Novel of Vengeance, Betrayal and the Wyrd
By Tacita Shee-Slaugh
Chapter 4
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The screams echoed about the forest as soon as twilight descended across the lands, piercing and shrill.
Llain gripped tightly onto Miara's hand as they walked slowly through the tunnels towards the screaming, which - to Miara's dismay - appeared to be coming from the Shadow Court. Inhaling deeply, she sniffed out the various scents of the commune and froze.
'What is it?' asked Llain, frowning in concern.
Miara swallowed, not sure she would be able to form the words. 'It's Grayley screaming,' she managed after a moment. 'I can't find the Regent.'
Llain's eyes widened and she rushed off towards the Court, wings humming frantically behind her. Miara followed with hurried strides, casting her eyes towards a concerned looking Rowena as she passed. The usually outspoken elfen looked drawn and remained silent as Miara passed, clutching one hand to her mouth in a shocked expression. At the door to the Court, Miara came to a halt beside Llain, who was clutching onto Helegena's hands.
'Auntie,' the faeling said, trying to look behind her. 'Is it -'
Helegena nodded and released Llain's hands, patting them gently. 'Yes, child,' she said in a gentle tone. 'Laesh has been killed.' Glancing past Llain to Miara, she added, 'And he is not the only one who is dead.'
Frowning, Miara placed a hand on Llain's shoulder and tilted her head. 'Who?' she asked, not quite certain she truly wished to know.
'Ferrue,' said Daindam An'Ryshe, stepping out of the shadows. His wife Lalvani lingered at his side, a pained expression on her face. 'We found her body in the guild shop. She'd been sleeping in the stockroom there - it looked like she never quite made it all the way in.'
Turning to the final two points of the Blacktalon's triumvirate, Miara gave them a grave look. 'I'm truly sorry for your loss,' she said. 'May I ask...'
'Stabbed,' explained Lalvani, pre-empting Miara's question. 'In the same way as Ilatrea, though it looks like she didn't get as much of a chance to fight back.'
'The Regent was smothered,' said Helegena, her voice accompanied by the clicking of her knitting needles. Llain shot her an odd look as if to question the benefits of knitted goods in such a time of crisis, but the ancient cultist ignored her and continued. 'In much the same way as Dyss was.'
Glancing past her, Miara could see Grayley burying her face into Vuuak's chest. The Chieftain looked torn at this; his face was contorted into a sort of stoic concern tinged with awkward stiffness. Miara frowned for a moment before turning her attention back to the An'Ryshes.
'I need to check on something, first - but could I have a look at her body, when I am done?'
Daindam and Lalvani exchanged a look, then nodded. 'Sanshaj and Wuttif are with her at the moment,' explained Daindam. 'We've all left the body until you could take a look at it.'
Next to her, Miara felt Llain stiffen. /Why you?/ the faeling asked, shaking her wings in displeasure. /Surely this will just draw attention to you. Do you really want to do that when there are assassins running about the forest?/
Miara had to admit that Llain had a point, though it wasn't one she could accept. /The alternative is that we let it carry on, and more people die - you or I amongst them, for all we know. Someone has to do it./
Llain's frown remained, but she did not reply or continue her objections. Miara's eyes softened slightly and she brushed her lips against her wife's, not caring for the public nature of the gesture. Judging by the way that those around them politely averted their eyes, it was not one that was taken ill, either.
'Keep an eye on Vuuak for me?' she murmured to Helegena, who inclined her head.
Nodding to the others, Miara turned on her heel and went to check the status of her traps. It seemed unlikely to her that they would have yielded any information, since two other people had been killed - yet against all the odds, when she knelt down besides the first trap she found its delicate precision disturbed. Someone had been near Jemdir's sleeping place, and that person had left tracks. Kneeling down next to them, Miara examined the prints carefully.
To her confusion, they were quite unmistakable - the heavy print could only have been made by someone of considerable size and weight. A horrible realisation settled over Miara's chest, and she scrabbled about in the undergrowth, looking for the second set of prints that would confirm her fears. Finding the direwolf's tracks, Miara sat back on her haunches and looked about her in dismay.
The prints were unmistakably that of the Mistress of the Bloodhunt.
As she thought on this, Miara calmed somewhat - Jemdir was not amongst the dead, which meant that she could in fact be certain that Kwaray was not responsible for killing any of the four people who had died.
/Pardon the interruption, Keeper,/ came Lalvani's soft voice in her mind. Miara stood up, brushing away Kwaray's footprints and the evidence of her traps. /There is...something here I think you should see./
Sniffing for Lalvani's scent, Miara found it in the Blacktalon shop, alongside a large amount of blood and several other people. Frowning, she hurried through the tunnels to find out what could possibly have gone wrong in the few moments she had been absent. Entering the shop amidst the groaning of her armour, Miara tilted her head in curiosity at Lalvani.
'What have you found?' she asked.
Lalvani said nothing, only stepped to one side to expose Ferrue's battered body. As described, she was peppered with the same sort of knife wounds as Ilatrea Nightshade had been - blood covered the room and soaked into the hems of the novice robes that were hung along one wall. What caught Miara's eye very quickly, however - and had drawn the attention of everyone else in the room - was a small piece of cloth clutched in Ferrue's rigormortis sealed hands.
Kneeling down next to the body, Miara peeled Ferrue's fingers open carefully. Once three of them had been loosened she was able to tug out the white cloth, which had thankfully escaped being splattered with Ferrue's own blood. Peeling it open, Miara's assumptions were confirmed as she spotted the few specks of blood and saliva stains all over the cloth.
'This was used to smother someone with,' she stated cooly, glancing back at Ferrue's corpse. 'I believe...that the Eye may have been responsible for Dyss's death.'
Daindam narrowed his eyes as he gazed into the distance. 'Perhaps even the Regent too,' he mused aloud. 'The Shadow Court is not far from here.'
Unfolding the smothering cloth still further, Miara examined it under the bright light of the lanterns in the shop. The stains were bought into stark relief, and clearly had two layers to them - one mark lighter and older than the second. Sighing, Miara nodded her head at Daindam.
'Look at this,' she said, holding out the cloth for the others' examination. 'I think you may be right. Perhaps that is it, then, and one killer is dead - though it confirms that there is definitely a second. She did not stab herself so brutally as this.'
Glancing at the people gathered around her, Lalvani's face creased into a frown. 'We should bring this to the others in the Court,' she said in a soft voice, eyes lighting on the Oakvines. 'You can...clear her up now, I think.'
Wuttif and Sanshaj nodded, the latter now looking a shadow of the man he was previously - first his lover dead, and now two of his family - one of them smothered violently by the other. Miara didn't envy him the emotional turmoil of attempting to reconcile that one in his head. Finding herself grateful that none of her family, or Llain's, had yet been targeted, she swept towards the Shadow Court in a swish of her ebon cloak, the velvet trailing out behind her like the carpet of Mother Night's shrouded sky.
'Did the Regent name a successor, incase anything happened to him?' Miara asked as she walked, glancing over at the An'Ryshes who had followed her.
Daindam shook his head. 'Not that I know of. If he had, it probably wouldn't have been Ferrue - or Grayley, come to think of it. He wouldn't go for the obvious. Honestly, he might even appoint Vuuak just to be contrary.'
'I doubt it,' murmured Lalvani, wrapping her arm through the crook of her husband's elbow. 'Haloia is more likely. He always trusted her much more than anyone else.'
'Unusual for siblings,' remarked Miara, thinking of the chance that she would ever trust Rymiel more than anyone else. They had been rivals for many things ever since they were small. 'I think you're probably right though. With all of this going on there won't be time for an election, and someone needs to take charge. Haloia is the best choice on many levels.'
Lalvani nodded in agreement, and the three of them arrived at the Shadow Court. Grayley had finally ceased screaming, and some of the audience had gone back about their own business. Helegena was still there, standing watchfully at the door. Her knitting, though significantly progressed, was still not clear as to what it would become - Miara found the sight of her knitting oddly soothing, and gave the Mother of Nightmares a small smile as she approached.
Chapter 4, Continued
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'We have some new information,' Miara said in a gentle voice, glancing through to where Vuuak still stood with his arms wrapped around Grayley. 'Could we...'
Helegena nodded, and stepped aside to let them in. The three of them entered, and for the first time got a clear look at the Regent's dead body. He looked oddly peaceful, where Dyss had not. Laesh's face was relaxed; perhaps even moreso than one who is asleep. His nekai lay to one side, unmarked by any sort of battle, and paperwork was scattered on the floor about him. There was some disturbance on the floor about him but it had been trodden over so much that there was no way that Miara would be able to track people through it.
Grayley raised empty eyes to the three of them as they entered, and Miara bent forward in a half bow. 'Your majesty,' she said, 'I am - sorry.'
'Words are inadequate,' rasped Grayley in a voice quite unlike her own, weak and timid. Even the greatest of personalities, Miara mused, could be bought down by a broken heart.
Inclining his head, Daindam said in a far more placating voice, 'We've examined Ferrue's body. There's proof that...'
'She killed Laesh,' said Lalvani, picking up bluntly where her husband found himself unable to continue. Somehow the statement sounded almost apologetic in her gentle tones, but even still Grayley's eyes flared in anger.
'I hope that Tainted whore died painfully,' the Queen snarled, clenching her hands into fists. As the shadows roiled up around her, Vuuak sighed.
'She did,' stated Miara clearly, and to her relief it made the Queen's anger abate somewhat. 'She died in precisely the same way as Ilatrea, in fact. Multiple stab wounds made from behind by an easily obtainable weapon.'
'Forgive me, but I have to ask,' interjected Daindam, glancing around the room with wide eyes. 'But did the Regent...appoint a successor, incase something like this happened?'
Composing herself, Grayley scrubbed at her face with a handkerchief and stood to her full height, disentangling herself from Vuuak's embrace. Brushing dirt from her robes, she pursed her lips and said, 'I do not believe he did. If he did, he did not tell me of it.'
'I don't think he thought he would be a target,' came a new voice from the door. Turning, Miara found herself looking at a very tired Haloia Llaewell, her rage worg standing protectively at her side. 'At least, when we spoke last night he seemed confident that he would be safe here.'
The aslaran's eyes turned unquestionably sad as they lighted on her brother's body, before her attention was turned back to the Queen.
'But someone will need to take charge,' Grayley said, frowning softly. Her voice grew a little more confident with each sentence. 'Lest this chaos descend even further.'
'Chaos is likely what Ferrue wanted,' suggested Lalvani, frowning. 'Though I would never have thought her capable of such a betrayal.'
'None of us would,' said Haloia placatingly, running her hands over her face. 'But still we are here. I assume Sanshaj is in no position to be standing in for the Regent?'
Daindam shook his head. 'Definitely not,' he said with a sigh. 'Honestly I doubt that he's fit to serve on the Court at all right now.'
'Grief works in different ways for different people,' said Miara with a glance over at Grayley. 'I think this would be easier if you could agree between you on someone who will take over.'
Vuuak nodded. 'The Keeper is right. It's a temporary measure, the proper election procedures will have to be observed, but we need someone who will take decisive action on this.'
'I cannot,' said Grayley softly, speaking with a little more conviction even as she admitted weakness. 'I am certain you shall understand why.'
The assembled nodded at the Queen, and Vuuak frowned. 'It is between you and I, then, Messiah,' he said.
'And you do not truly wish to do it either,' remarked Haloia enigmatically, her eyes twinkling. 'Perhaps you think my brother would not have wanted it to be you, of all people?'
Vuuak's eyes darkened and for a moment Miara thought he was likely to retort, but instead he simply nodded stiffly. 'Quite.'
'It's decided then,' Haloia said in a stern voice, rising up to her full height. Miara could not help but smile; the Predator's Fang was a formidable woman, and she had long hoped that should Laesh ever resign, that his sister would think to succeed him. Of course, these were never the circumstances Miara would have thought of. Haloia turned to regard her then, tilting her head curiously. 'May we review the evidence?'
'Certainly, Messiah,' Miara said with an inclination of her head. 'Perhaps...elsewhere?'
Vuuak shot Miara a grateful look, and the Keeper turned on her heel, beckoning for Lalvani and Daindam to follow her. Helegena also joined them as they walked through the tunnels. Miara led them through to the Black Tower, taking a seat on the benches on the Ravenwood Terrace. They clustered together in the shadows with equally drawn faces.
'Alright,' said the newly acting Regent, scratching her worg behind the ears fondly. 'Let's go over this then. Dyss and Laesh were smothered, we believe by Ferrue?' At the responding nods, Haloia continued, 'And Ilatrea and Ferrue were stabbed. Do we have any idea why they would have been?'
'Why, because they were assassins, of course,' remarked Helegena in a scratchy voice, as if it were quite obvious. When everyone turned to look at her in surprise, the ancient cultist continued, 'Well we know Ferrue was, and clearly the killer had spotted that she was up to something. As to Ilatrea, well, the poor girl had the misfortune to be the one that found Dyss's body - and at that point I imagine it was likely the only potential suspect that this killer could see.'
Miara frowned, and stared intently at her hands. What was most terrifying was that she was pretty certain that Helegena was right. It made too much sense - though she did not like the idea that someone would become so utterly devoted to tracking down a killer and avenging their deaths that they would risk slaying innocent commune members along the way. On the one hand it spoke of a deep loyalty to the forest, but on another - much darker - level, it sounded of an eerily familiar madness that no one truly wished to admit.
'This does not sound unfeasible,' said Haloia with a grave look. 'I fear, Mother, that you may be right. If that is the case, then, could it not be the case that the murders may simply stop?'
'The assassin is dead,' mused Daindam aloud, 'so if they do not, you are talking either about there being more than one assassin, or these knife killers not being as discerning as Helegena suggests.'
'The last time we guessed that things were going to be over and did nothing,' Miara pointed out, 'two more people died.'
Haloia nodded, a sigh passing her lips. 'We cannot truly afford to do nothing, then.'
'But what is the alternative?' asked Lalvani, her diminutive features creasing into the same frown that marred most of the other faces in the room. 'Are we to turn on ourselves, as these assassins have done?'
'We may have no other choice,' Haloia replied, flicking her tail in displeasure. 'Which leads us to the question - do any of us have any suspects? Or, indeed, people we know to be innocent?'
'Wait,' said Daindam, an edge of panic creasing into his voice. 'Surely putting those names out, if we know people are innocent, could very well place those people into the line of fire?'
'Everyone is in the line of fire,' Helegena pointed out sharply, her needles still clicking. 'The Keeper of the Blackened Bones is innocent.'
Unsure what to do save nod her head as all the eyes turned on her, Miara gave Helegena a curious look. 'I am, though of course I would say that. I personally have reason to believe that the Master of the Bloodhunt is innocent. I have seen proof that she was elsewhere whilst the duel murders were being committed.'
She did not mention that Kwaray had been up to something, though she did not know what. It seemed more information than the Court needed at that point. Haloia nodded, seeming to accept both of these testimonies, and pursed her lips in thought.
'We should ask the commune at large if any of them can vouch for people,' she announced, and turned her mind to the aethers to do so. There was a pause as they waited, during which Haloia's face twitched in the manner of one communicating with far too many people at once. After a time her concentration turned into a deep grimace.
'Regent?' asked Vuuak, frowning with concern.
Haloia raised her head and looked levelly at the Court. 'I have been told that one of the commune has looked into the heart of Taerrick Stormcrow,' she said levelly, 'and finds him guilty of murder.'
A sudden hush fell over the room. Even Helegena's knitting came to a halt, her level gaze falling upon Haloia. 'Are you certain?' she asked in a crackling voice, 'I cannot believe that my son...'
'I could not believe that Ferrue would, either,' replied Haloia softly. 'But I do not believe your niece would accuse her cousin without good cause.'
Miara's heart skipped a beat. 'Which niece?' she asked softly, her mind straying immediately to her wife.
'Beria,' came the reply, and Miara visibly settled down. 'She is certain, and I see no reason to disbelieve her.'
The silence resumed, everyone's eyes darting between Helegena and the Regent. Whether some telepathic communication was going on between them or not, Miara could not tell - but the Mother of Nightmares was certainly having a battle of wills with herself and her own loyalty to her family, at least. Miara could not help but spare a thought for Beria. To be forced into accusing one's own family was something she could not bear.
'Give him to Brother Crow,' snarled Helegena finally, jabbing her knitting needles into her thigh. 'Let Him do as He will with the traitor.'
Haloia summoned the entire commune to the Ravenwood, and they made their way there in silence. Miara glanced over at Helegana periodically as they walked, but the cultist's face was devoid of all emotion save for anger and betrayal. Most of the commune were already present at the nexus when the Court arrived, including Taerrick - who was standing next to his cousin. Beria looked uncomfortable, but the Shaman seemed entirely oblivious to her nervous fidgeting. When Helegena entered, the young druidess rushed over to her and clutched at her hands.
'You did well,' croaked Helegena, moving her gaze to Taerrick. 'Regent?'
Nodding, Haloia stepped before the commune and raised her head. 'I have several announcements to make,' she said, a few people glancing about as she answered to Laesh's title. 'Firstly, that in light of the Regent's death, the Shadow Court have seen fit to nominate me as his temporary successor. Once this sorry business is dealt with, we shall of course return to the traditional democratic route - but it was felt that at this time, the commune was in dire need of a guiding hand.'
Pausing to let people digest this, she continued, 'Secondly, that evidence has arisen showing that Ferrue Oakvine was responsible for the deaths of Dyss Ysav'rai and Laesh Oakvine. The Shadow Court has seen this and believes it to be true.'
This caused some muttering amongst the commune as people turned and whispered to one another hurriedly. 'What about Ilatrea? And Ferrue herself?' asked Prince Ultdir, tilting his head curiously.
'The stabbings were committed by another,' explained Haloia, her face turning grave once more. 'And we believe that we know the identity of another killer. Using the gaze of Brother Crow, one of those loyal to the Wyrd has looked into the heart of another and found them to be guilty of murder.'
'String them up! Name and shame!' came the calls from the commune. As it descended quickly into a shouting match, Haloia raised her hands imperiously in a call for silence. It came, though not quickly.
'For your crimes, as determined by those loyal to the Glomdoring, you shall be fed to Brother Crow. Step forth, Taerrick Stormcrow, and meet the fate of those who betray the Wyrd.'
The Shaman's red eyes lit up with fury and he charged forward towards the Regent. 'On what grounds am I accused? And by whom?'
'By me, cousin,' answered Beria softly, her eyes full of pain. 'I have looked with the gaze of Brother Crow, and He tells me that your heart is not true. If I falter in my sight, may He lynch me for my crimes as surely as He does you now.'
Haloia nodded to the trees, and Crow let out an icy caw that chilled all those present to the bone. Taerrick Stormcrow could do nothing but struggle to focus on his ability to move, attempting to claw it back, as Crow swept down on him from above and dragged him up into the trees. The druid's screams echoed about the forest, and as his blood ran down the bark of the great Ravenwood a small, tiny token tumbled from his hands.
As the closest person to it, Sanshaj knelt down and cupped the small gem in his hand, frowning. 'Ferrue had one of these on her when she died,' he said in a soft, quiet voice. 'I've never seen it before.'
He passed the token to the Regent, who examined it with a critical eye. 'It appears to be a small badge of some sort,' she related aloud for all to hear - the gem was so small that from far away its detail could not be discerned. 'It looks like a drop of blood, chained in shadow. Does this mean anything to anyone?'
The assembled shook their heads. None of them had ever seen it before - Miara could not even think of what it might be. It was far too odd that both Ferrue and Taerrick had them on their person. As they were dismissed and she led a very quiet Llain to the manse, the first fingers of dawn caressing the horizon, Miara couldn't help but wonder - if they were in league with one another, then who else was killing people?
She set her traps outside their own manse that day, not wanting to think of what would happen if someone came for Llain.
Chapter 5
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Dusk fell, and found Miara awake as she had been for some hours. Like her, Llain had been too restless to sleep - both of them had been up and down during the day, pottering about the manse in some semblance of procrastination. When Miara had last awoken, Llain had been nowhere to be seen. Panicked, she had hurled herself out of bed and torn through the manse, hair flying wildly out of place. When she found the faeling swimming in the pool, she almost fell to the ground in relief.
'You look like you've seen a ghost, love,' her wife said, leaning on a rock at the edge of the pool. 'Are you alright?'
Miara had knelt down on the ground then, rubbing tiredly at her eyes. 'I thought - when you weren't there...'
Understanding flashed across Llain's eyes and she looked apologetic. 'I couldn't sleep,' she explained, stretching her dripping wings out to dry them. 'And I was getting sick of tossing and turning.'
When they made it back to bed, both of them slept a little deeper for some time; but even still, Miara found herself awake some hours before the sun set. Disentangling herself from Llain's arms, she pulled her armour on and snuck out of the manse, kneeling down to where she knew she had placed the first of her traps.
To her abject confusion, the small alcove was entirely empty - as if she had never placed a trap there at all. Furrowing her brow, Miara made her way to the next spot, where she was met with the same sight. Tracing around the area she could find no obvious prints or even any trace of the commodities she had used to build her traps. The soil where she was certain she had buried things was entirely without mark, as pristine as it had been before she had touched it. It was as if she had never set any of the traps at all.
And there was only one other person in the forest who was as good with traps as she was.
Letting out an uncharacteristic growl under her breath, Miara turned to the east in a swirling swarm of shadows, her cloak billowing out behind her. Honing in on her target's scent, she hurled herself into the Wyrdling with the fury of a woman on a mission.
'Keeper?' asked the Mistress of the Bloodhunt, raising her eyebrows as the human stormed in. 'Can I help you?'
Unsheathing her swords in one fell swoop and crossing them over the Mistress's throat before she could throw her bardiche in the way, Miara leant in and gazed intently into Kwaray's eyes, searching for truth.
'You took down my traps,' she snarled, the shadows gathering around her. 'Why?'
Her eyes darting to the thin blades pressing into her neck, Kwaray inhaled slowly. 'I wanted to stop you from killing anyone.'
'And you thought I was stabbing people with alarm traps?' Miara spluttered, as the Mistress shook her head.
'No,' said Kwaray, shaking her furred head very slightly. 'I thought you were using it to lure people in, or something.'
'With alarm traps. -Think-, Kwaray!'
The Mistress of the Bloodhunt had the good grace to look a little chastened. 'You were watching over people with them, weren't you,' she said as realisation dawned across her face. 'Oh.'
'I would have been,' hissed Miara, leaning further forward so that the thin blades of her rapiers just started to draw beads of blood on the tae'dae's neck, 'if someone hadn't blocked me.'
Kwaray growled very slightly in pain, keeping herself flat against the wall. A single wrong move would have her jugular pierced. 'If you kill me,' she said in an unusually calm voice, 'then you've lost an ally. I can help you stop the killers, but not if I'm dead.'
Cursing, Miara pulled her blades away and thrust them back into their sheaths, pushing her hair back out of her face. 'Don't do it again,' she snarled.
'Listen,' Kwaray said, shaking the blood out of her fur. 'I stopped Jemdir from getting anywhere the day before last. I don't think he could have killed Ferrue.'
With a sigh, Miara nodded. 'Let me know if you work anything else out. And...' Pausing, she frowned. 'Don't do it to Helegena.'
'Fine. And Keeper?'
'Yes?'
'If you threaten me again, Deera will rip your throat out.'
A broad grin spread across Miara's face, and she clapped a hand on the champion's shoulder. 'I think you'll find we're even on duels,' she pointed out. 'Who knows which of us would win this time.'
The Mistress's roaring laughter echoed about the Wyrdling's innards as Miara turned and headed for the exit. Just as she stepped out into the tunnels, a piercing scream echoed about the forest.
'Of course,' she said aloud in a voice dripping with sarcasm. 'Nothing is ever that simple.'
/Miara./
/Yes, love?/
/It's Rymiel./
The Keeper froze on the spot, halfway through her hurried strides to the smell of blood. Wrapping her gauntlets around the hilts of her rapiers, she exhaled, her whole body shaking as she let the anger ebb slowly out of her.
/How?/ she asked Llain, her voice sounding small even in their heads.
Llain's reply was hesitant. /Stabbed./
She could smell Llain over at the Black Tower, and headed there with a sick feeling in her stomach. Her brother was dead. But why? What had Rymiel done to make the murderer think that he could be one of these assassins? It made no sense to her, though a part of her couldn't help but wonder if it was possible that her brother was actually in league with the killers after all. Casting the thought aside, Miara walked onwards. If he was, then his death was deserved. If he was not - well, then there was a lot more to be done.
When she got to the spire, Llain was there waiting for her. Miara's wife had a conflicted expression on her face, halfway between pain and concern. 'The Regent's with him now,' she said in a soft voice, flexing her wings out and in nervously. 'Are you...'
'I'll be fine,' muttered Miara, pushing past Llain to enter the room. It was, much as the other murder scenes had been, covered in blood.
Rymiel lay broken and battered in the centre of the room, his body riddled with stab wounds. Kneeling next to him were Haloia and Tabmili, examining the gashes on his chest and neck. As Miara entered the two women raised their heads to regard her, sympathetic anger in their eyes.
'It's the same killer,' stated Haloia, brushing her hands clean on her tunic. 'Same blade.'
'Was there...have you found...' began Miara, unable to finish the question.
Lalvani An'Ryshe sensed the conclusion of her sentence and stepped forward, a look of abject despair on her face. 'No,' she said softly. 'There was no gem, no badge. He was innocent.'
Miara exhaled, letting her grip on her rapiers relax. Raising her gloved hands to her eyes, she brushed tiredly at her face. As she opened them again, she locked eyes with Haloia, who did not look as relieved as Miara felt.
'Prince Ultdir is also dead,' the Regent announced, and Miara suddenly understood the look on Lalvani's face. 'There are still killers. We now suspect there to be a coup of some sort within the Glomdoring.'
'The badges,' Miara breathed, reeling with this new information. 'You suspect some sort of...cult?'
Nodding, Haloia grimaced. 'We do not know who or why, but there are too many of them now for it to be an isolated thing. This was not just limited to Ferrue and Taerrick.'
Miara tried to think clearly, but every time she did her eyes flicked back over to her brother's body and her brain turned white with anger. With an angry growl she turned on the spot and looked towards the stairs.
'I'm gathering the commune,' continued the Regent. 'To see if we can do something about this.'
Without reply, Miara strode out of the room and towards the nexus. She heard the sounds of people following her as she left, but ignored them, walking automatically away. The white noise in her brain was making it impossible to listen, or to speak. She clattered through the forest, kicking thornbeasts out of her way as she went. Turning across the bridge, she saw a lone figure up ahead of her, waiting with mandolin in hand.
'What?' she barked at Dakuni as she approached, staring as his face creased into a frown.
'Miara...'
'Not now, Dakuni. Just - not now.'
She moved to charge past him, but with a simple chord strummed on his mandolin Dakuni stopped her. 'He's my family too,' he pointed out in a soft voice. 'You're not the only one who's lost him.'
Letting out a roar of frustration, Miara threw her arm out and backhanded Dakuni squarely across the face. The bard stumbled, but stood his ground, staring levelly at her. Reeling back, Miara unleashed blow after blow, the anger unleashed and turning her vision white. Pounding with fist, knee and foot on her cousin she landed kicks and punches that pushed the wind from his chest and blossomed giant bruises across his skin. Miara beat him until her arms ached with the effort and her breath came in ragged gasps.
Panting, she collapsed to her knees and buried her face in her hands. 'He was innocent,' she whispered into her palms. 'He did nothing, and they killed him anyway.'
Dakuni slumped down next to her, blood pouring from his nose. Oddly he did nothing to heal the wounds, his vials staying stoically in his bandolier. 'It was pointless,' he echoed. 'It was stupid. It was wrong.'
Miara glanced over at her cousin and locked eyes with him. There was understanding in them, empathy, and a shared anger - but something else as well that she couldn't quite put her finger on. 'You thought he was guilty?' she asked softly.
'I was so certain,' Dakuni replied, coughing up more blood. 'He'd been behaving oddly.'
'We all have.'
Shaking his head and wincing at the movement, Dakuni clutched at his side in an attempt to stem the pain. 'Not like this. He was sneaking around. Evading. Getting into arguments that weren't his. I was so certain.'
'You look like Taint. Drink some potions, for god's sake,' Miara said, staring down at the blood on her knuckles. When Dakuni didn't move, she ripped the vial from his belt and poured it down his throat, pinning his broken jaw open with one hand. He coughed and spluttered, but the elixirs got to work quickly. 'Don't act like you're the one that needs punishing for this,' she stated cooly. 'The person who killed him is, not you.'
'I know,' replied Dakuni softly, grimacing as his wounds began to heal.
'Now get up. We have to go to the Master with everyone else.'
--
When the evidence and further deaths had been presented into the commune, a tense hush fell over them. Miara stood with Dakuni propped up against her, the trill's wings closed up and tucked under her arm. She had half carried, half dragged him to the nexus - but it had worked in the end, although all they'd had to listen to was the same bad news over again followed by an unhelpfully silent response.
Out of the corner of her eye, Miara could see desperation on the faces of most of the commune, and feel a rising tension amongst them. The chaos that they all anticipated was coming, unless they could do anything to stop it. Clearing her throat, Miara directed her steely blue gaze towards Beria Stormcrow, who jumped in her aunt's still-knitting arms as if prodded harshly.
'You,' Miara stated in her most imposing voice - the one reserved usually for misbehaving novices and idiotic Serenwilders. 'What did you find out yesterday? Come to think of it, what have you found out thus far. At all. Start talking.'
Several people threw Miara awkward glances, but no one stepped in to counter her demands. Shuffling on the spot, Beria glanced up at her aunt's impassive face before speaking in a small, quiet voice.
'I - Haloia,' she stammered, eyes darting to the Regent. 'I looked into Haloia's - I had to be sure -'
'I understand,' interrupted the aslaran smoothly, giving the druidess a level stare. 'I would have done the same, and I would not want people to go without confidence in their leader at this time.'
'The Regent is definitely innocent?' asked Vuuak, in a voice that was clearly expressing a need for clarification rather than an aspersion of doubt. Beria nodded, and he gave Haloia an approving look. 'Good.'
'The first day, after Dyss died,' continued Beria, her voice picking up a little in confidence and strength, 'I'm afraid - well, I looked to Ilatrea. She was found over the body, and...' Tailing off, Beria looked about at the nodding heads. 'But I guess that was a waste of time,' she said sadly, 'since - I mean - she died and all. Then the day after I found...I found...Taerrick...and - and that's it.'
Though she winced at the repeat of his name, Beria kept her head held up high and earned more than one respectful look from those more senior in the commune. Miara's regard for the girl raised somewhat; though young, she clearly wasn't afraid to put herself in the firing line for the good of the Glomdoring. She'd be an asset to them one day - perhaps even a replacement candidate for Ferrue as the Eye of Crow - provided that she made it through the whole sorry mess alive.
Come to think of it, Miara mused with a tilt of her head, it was a miracle the girl wasn't dead already. Either she'd been extremely lucky, or some sort of guardian had been watching out for her. As she thought it, Miara's eyes locked with Helegena's - the old cultist looked back at her with a steely gaze, and something clicked in Miara's mind. The warning she had been given, and the suggestion that those who would ally with her could only be in so many places at once.
She was unguarded, then, against the killers. It was not something that troubled her, too much - there had always been a chance, and the certainty was not wholly worse. In some ways it was comforting to know that Beria, and her blessings from Brother Crow, were being looked after. Of course, that left the question - who was looking after Helegena? Whilst Miara was certain that she could handle herself, Laesh and Dyss had been able to as well. It was only so comforting.
'Does anyone else,' said the Regent, distracting Miara from her musings, 'have any new information they would like to share?'
The commune shook their heads, and several of the Shadow Court sighed. 'That is very little to go on,' said Vuuak with a frown. 'Is there no one who can be bought before Brother Crow for his justice, at all?'
'Not unless we start randomly lynching members of the commune on a whim,' remarked Seregmor in a voice dripping with bitterness. To Miara's surprise, this generated not cries of outrage but a low murmur amongst the forest. It was only so long, then, before they began turning on themselves entirely.
'Doing so will make us as bad as these knived killers,' pointed out Lalvani in a soft voice. 'We are better than that. We do not need to strike needlessly; let us gather information and preserve what innocent life we can.'
'And wait to be killed in our beds?' called out Rawoka Llaewell, stepping forward and swishing her tail in agitation. 'I have no intention of doing so, and anyone who would preach caution at this point is working on the side of these very murderers who hunt us down!'
Daindam let out a low hiss and stepped protectively in front of his wife. 'How dare you!' he retorted. 'Imagine if we lynch someone. We lynch you, and you turn out to be innocent. Tomorrow, two more of us get killed in our beds. Perhaps even more. What then? What will your death have achieved?'
'One less potential suspect,' replied Rawoka smoothly, folding her arms to the clinking of vials. 'One step closer to finding the killers.'
People began to raise their voices wildly, some supporting the idea of a random lynching and others calling for caution. Miara found herself torn; both arguments had merit, but she couldn't help thinking of what sort of position they could be put in if someone suggested lynching Kwaray, or herself, or Beria. Their potential sources of information could be slowly whittled away by the panicked actions of an angry mob, and if it picked up enough momentum, they would become powerless to stop it.
'I say we lynch him!' snapped Rawoka, jabbing her thumb towards Vuuak. Miara tensed from the top of her spine down to her toes, her hands ghosting to the hilts of her rapiers. A few other people joined in, calling votes out in support.
'You would have us descend into chaos on a chance!' Llain growled, stepping towards Vuuak protectively. 'I refuse to support it. Let us lynch no one this night.'
'A chance?' Rawoka let out a bark of laughter, shaking her head. 'It is no secret that Laesh was screwing around with his wife,' she announced proudly, as if it were somehow big of her to be the first to bring it up. 'Why wouldn't he want to see him dead?'
Vuuak started at this, but Grayley placed a hand on his shoulder and rounded on Rawoka with an icy gaze. 'Never,' she hissed, 'speak of him that way again. I am with Lady Wyrmglow - let none be put before Brother Crow.'
'I agree,' stated Miara, and once she did so several others followed suit - Tabmili, Dakuni and Kwaray all called out their agreement.
Raising her hands, the Regent managed to bring back some semblance of silence and order. 'I find insufficient support for a lynching,' she said in a clear voice, 'though I believe the time may come where it is indeed the best course of action, for the points Rawoka mentioned. Go about your night. If you have any further information, bring it to one of the Shadow Court. We will catch these people. We will kill them. Nothing Matters but Glomdoring.'
The commune chimed out the reply, 'Glory be to Glomdoring!' - but Miara felt the tension remain hanging in the air like a pendulum waiting to swing down and sever their heads from their bodies. Glancing down at Dakuni, she released him so that he could stand properly.
/I cannot believe it has come to this,/ he murmured in her mind.
Nodding, Miara reached out and took Llain by the hand as she approached. /Rawoka made good points/, she replied, /but she overstepped a boundary./
/People still supported her, though./
/They did. Many people think the way Vuuak and Grayley have carried on is...wrong. That probably gave her some more support - though not as much as it did more opposition - before you even consider those who just genuinely agree with her./
Shrugging his shoulders slightly, with an accompanying wince, Dakuni glanced pensively off into the distance. 'I should go and deal with the rest of these wounds,' he murmured, glancing down at his still broken leg. 'You hit like a stack of guards, cousin.'
Miara's mouth twitched into a small smile. 'Imagine what it would be like if I'd used my swords,' she pointed out wryly, and Dakuni grimaced.
'I'd rather not. This is bad enough.'
Waving him off, Miara turned her attention back to her wife. Llain looked drawn, her brow furrowed as if in deep thought. 'What is it?'
'Just wondering...' she began aloud, before glancing up. /It's not just...how long is it before they come after us, anymore. It's how long is it, and who will it be. Killers? Our family, our friends?/
Miara nodded her head gravely, brushing the still bloody back of her hand across Llain's cheek. Their cousin's blood smeared across her skin and made Miara's pulse race. /The more time we spend asking those questions,/ she replied softly, /the less time we spend finding them./
Sighing, Llain nodded and raised her fingertips to her face. /Why am I covered in bits of Dakuni?/ she asked curiously.
/Rymiel. I just...needed to hit something./
Giving her an understanding look, Llain tugged on her wife's fingers. 'Come with me?' she asked gently, walking towards the tunnels. Miara followed her down and through several pathways until they made it through to the Wyrden isle, the cloying heat of the jungle washing over them like a gush of rain - only far less refreshing.
'We should stay in the forest,' pointed out Miara without too much feeling, feeling her pulse grow faster as her wife glanced up at her. The faeling raised one finger to tuck at Miara's chin, tugging her down for a slow kiss. 'Or not.'
Llain grinned against Miara's mouth. 'Not going to lecture me on how irresponsible it is to go running off to enjoy ourselves?'
'At a time like this?' Miara asked, shrugging out of her breastplate with a raised eyebrow. 'We could die at any moment, and you want me to be reticent -now-?'
Her wife's laughter echoed through the jungle and Miara scooped her up by the waist, tearing wildly at the buttons on her robes with bloody hands. 'Someone could walk through the pathway at any moment,' pointed out Llain, still laughing.
'Let them,' growled Miara, as she pinned the faeling down into the dirt, her own laughter rising to join the echoes that resounded around the cavern.
Chapter 6
---------
Kwaray was waiting for her in the Wyrdling when Miara got back, not a single mahogany hair on her head so askew as to betray where she'd been for the past hours. The Mistress of the Bloodhunt had a grave look on her face, and she was pacing back and forth in front of Deera, her rage worg.
'So,' she said as Miara entered, thrusting her bardiche noisily into the ground. 'Where are we looking out today?'
Pursing her lips in thought, Miara considered this. 'I want to spot a potential victim,' she mused aloud, 'and you want to spot a potential killer.'
'Rawoka, maybe? She seemed keen to get people lynched for no good reason.'
Miara shook her head. 'Her reasons were good, her method lacking. I don't think she's guilty - it feels like the killers are much more...subtle. Cautious. She isn't either of those things.'
'Hmph. You're right,' the tae'dae replied, reaching up with one paw to scratch the fur at the back of her neck. 'Maybe we should look at who's been quiet?'
'Quietness is somewhat par for the course around here,' pointed out Miara, settling down and stretching her legs out. 'But it's better than nothing to go on, I suppose. Cannrin's been quiet.'
'Wuttif too,' added Kwaray, tilting her head in thought. 'All of the Nightshades have, come to think of it, but then Ilatrea was one of the first to die.'
'It shook them more than they're prepared to let on,' said Miara, thinking of how much it had affected Lalvani's quiet demeanour. 'I would go for Wuttif, he has been quiet - and Ferrue was in on it, though there's no reason to suppose family ties in all this, especially given that she killed Laesh.'
'It's better to ignore family ties entirely,' agreed Kwaray. 'If we start trying to guess this based on who stole whose spouse or child we're going to have a million reasons to suspect everyone.'
Miara's lips twisted up into a small grin. 'You're right,' she said. 'Even if it's a factor for them, it'll just be a waste of our time and effort.'
'Alright then. So I'll go for Wuttif. What about you, though? Do we actually have any idea who this killer is going for now?'
'Not really,' sighed Miara, buffing a scratch from her breastplate. 'It's clearly not a strike against a particular family, because nearly all of us have lost people now. I think the Llaewells are the only people who haven't, and honestly, that may well just be because there are so few of them. It doesn't seem to be against a guild, either.'
'Nekotai lost one, Harbingers lost one, we've lost one...Blacktalon one - well, two if you count Taerrick - Shadowdancers two?' asked Kwaray, counting it out.
Miara nodded. 'That's right, I think. So it's not that. There's no pattern in it being all leadership either. Dyss wasn't, Ilatrea was one of the Silent Lord's avatars but she wasn't in guild leadership. And I don't think it's Orders, they've all been a mixture.'
Kwaray resumed her pacing, her feet thudding heavily against the ground. Deera whined slightly at her side, the worg clearly clamouring for someone's blood and unable to find satisfaction. 'Maybe go for the Regent? They've thrown us into chaos by killing one Regent, who's to say they won't kill the new one.'
'That sounds like the best idea we've got.'
'Well it's not like we're brimming with information here,' remarked Kwaray with a grimace, plucking her bardiche from the ground. 'People are scared.'
'Fear is the greatest motivator,' said Miara blankly, echoing the sentiments from her argument with Vuuak. 'Without emotion we would be nothing.'
Kicking at the floor, Kwaray let out a huff of breath that could either have been agreement or laughter. 'So you say, Keeper. So you say.' Pausing, the warrior's face became twisted with a mixture of emotions. 'Listen...about your cousin.'
'Dakuni?' asked Miara, a small grin tugging at her lips. 'You're not still...' She trailed off, spotting the intense look in Kwaray's eyes. 'Oh. You really are, aren't you.'
'It's nothing,' snarled the tae'dae unconvincingly, waving her bardiche in a gesture of dismissal. 'Only it looks like we could be all be facing death. Real death, the sort you don't come back from. And I don't want to leave with anything unfinished.'
'Fair enough,' Miara said with a sigh. It had been weighing on her mind, too - the idea that at any moment she might simply cease to exist. 'What about him, then?'
'Do you think you could convince him to meet me somewhere? I would do it myself, but - well, I doubt he'd trust me given the circumstances. Even though I've been vouched for. Coming from you, he's more likely to - to believe it.'
Miara nodded. 'You're right. And I can try, but I won't make any promises. I'll be honest, he's - made it pretty clear that you're not his type.'
Kwaray let out another huff, this time definitely of amusement but dripping with bitterness. 'I get that,' she replied. 'But at this point...'
'You'd feel worse if you didn't try,' finished Miara, raising one hand to pat the Keeper on the shoulder. 'No matter how bad the rejection, if it comes.'
'Yeah,' Kwaray breathed softly, putting one paw over Miara's bronzed hand. 'You know, Wyrmglow, you're not bad - for a human.'
Letting out a peal of laughter, Miara shook the tae'dae off and got to her feet. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering whether her job was made an awful lot better by having people like Kwaray and Vuuak as the other points of the triangle. It was impressive how much easier things got if you weren't battling infighting on top of the duties you had to undergo, as any person in leadership - let alone the one responsible for teaching and growing their students, without whom the guild would essentially collapse.
Turning on her heel, she left the Mistress of the Bloodhunt behind her with a wave of her hand. 'I'll let you know what he says,' she called by way of farewell, and began making her way through to find her cousin.
At any other time, she thought to herself, this would be demeaning - acting as a third party courier for what was essentially a love letter. Somehow it ended up seeming romantic to be delivering the last chance at reconciliation (or in Kwaray and Dakuni's case, conciliation) when the end of the world as they knew it was looming down upon them, however. Not to mention Dakuni's face was going to be a picture when she told him.
She found Dakuni at the stage, sitting on the edge and sewing buttons onto what looked suspiciously like a zombie costume.
'How precisely do zombies have the manual dexterity required to put that on?' she asked with wry amusement as she walked in, pointing to the large grey buttons. 'I can barely do them myself and I'm not dead.'
'Not all undead lose their ability to control their hands,' remarked Dakuni as he raised his head, putting the costume to one side. 'Besides, I'm not so great at this. I didn't want to try and make them any more complicated.'
'I didn't know you were working on a play.'
Sighing softly, Dakuni shook his head. 'I'm not,' he said softly. 'This is for Ilatrea's play.'
Eyeing her cousin levelly, Miara sat down on one of the audience benches and stretched her legs out. She had forgotten that Dakuni and Ilatrea had been guildmates together, and likely spent a lot of their lives alongside one another. Everyone, she thought, had their own different ways of grieving. Perhaps this was Dakuni's.
'I thought the Lord Song was working on it with her?'
'It reminds him too much of her,' Dakuni replied. His face contorted into a slight grimace. 'He wanted to see it finished, though. I volunteered.'
'Something to take your mind off everything?'
He shrugged. 'Something like that.'
Tilting her head, Miara ventured, 'I might have another distraction for you.'
'If it's a punch to the face I'm not all that interested,' he answered wryly, flexing his fingers to relax them from too long spent with needle and thread. 'But you're grinning too much for it to be that. You'd never give away the glee of getting to beat me up. What is it?'
'Try who, rather than what.'
A mixture of horror, revulsion and shock passed across the trill's face and he waved his hands violently in front of him. 'No, no. We've been over this. I'm sure Kwaray is lovely -'
'Lovely? She's a raging warrior who spends most of her time charging into Serenwilde for the glory of the Predator',' remarked Miara blandly, examining the mail on her arms for kinks. 'But I get your point, and I interrupted you. You were objecting violently to something?'
Glaring, Dakuni continued, 'She's just not my type. Could you imagine me with her? She'd crush me. It's logistically impossible.'
'I think you mean physically. Or perhaps spatially.'
'Well, whatever! I don't feel that way about her, and I won't, no matter how much you keep trying to set us up.' Pausing, he stared levelly at his cousin and asked in a deadpan voice, 'You find this absolutely hilarious, don't you?'
Miara made no reply save for the impish grin that spread across her face as she stretched her arms out either side of her. Letting out a huff of frustration and flapping his wings to accompany it, Dakuni swept off the apron of the stage and landed lightly on the floor, his thin frame barely making a sound as his feet touched the ground.
'Fine. But only because you're never going to shut up about it otherwise.' Folding his arms, he said, 'What does she want?'
'Just to meet you somewhere. Alone.' When Dakuni's face flashed with concern, Miara added, 'She figured it'd be better coming from me because - well, you wouldn't think she wanted to drag you out to a corner of the forest and stab you. Or smother you. I can assure you she doesn't mean to do so - well, not intentionally, anyway. Who knows what bear kisses would be like.'
'Oh, shut up,' snapped Dakuni, brushing his palms over his face to smooth the downy feathers there. 'She's right, though. I'd be stupid to walk off on my own with someone I didn't trust. You're sure about her?'
'Certain,' Miara said with conviction. 'She's - well, she's trying to stop the killers. She's doing a better job of it than most, barring a slip up. Which has been fixed.'
Frowning at her slightly, Dakuni nodded. 'Alright then,' he said slowly. 'Where? And when?'
/You never told me a location,/ Miara thought towards Kwaray, glancing up at the sky.
/He's coming?/
/Only if you tell me where and when./
Kwaray's excitement bubbled through the telepathic link. /Crow's altar. Near Ulthaed's grove. Two hours./
Relaying this to Dakuni, Miara couldn't help but feel slightly smug at the expression that fell across her cousin's face. 'You're nervous,' she remarked gleefully, clapping her hands together. 'Oh, you liar. You little liar.'
'Damn right I'm nervous - I'm going to tell the girl that I don't feel this way about her at all. Who knows how she's going to react. Maybe she'll smash my head in with her bardiche, for all I can guess.'
'It is her go-to reaction,' said Miara diplomatically, still grinning at the glare she was shot in return. 'And yes. I'm sure you're accepting this secret rendezvous just so you can tell her to bugger off. Had any thoughts about what you're going to wear?'
'I don't know,' Dakuni replied without thought, 'my robes aren't really - you little sneak!' he exclaimed upon realising how unwittingly he had fallen for Miara's trick. The warrior clutched at her sides, unable to quell the peals of laughter ripping forth from her throat. 'Yes, that's right. You laugh it up.'
'You could wear the zombie costume,' offered Miara, once she had recovered enough to draw breath to speak. 'I'm sure she'd love it.'
'Like that's going to make it less likely for her to attack me,' he remarked dryly, gathering up the costumes and hiding them back behind the scrim.
'We could all die at any moment,' pointed out Miara in a cool voice. 'She wouldn't want to leave things undone.'
Dakuni stared levelly at her and nodded, a grave expression flashing across his face briefly. It was quickly replaced by one of understanding and perhaps even compassion as he sighed and took the fullness of Miara's meaning.
'I'll meet her,' he repeated softly, smoothing down the feathers on his cheeks. 'Thanks.'
Shrugging, Miara got to her feet and turned to leave. 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do,' she said with a grin as she began walking away.
'That doesn't leave me with much to avoid,' he called out playfully, voice echoing around her as she went off to set up the traps around Haloia's home.