by Jaya Moon
“We can talk now.”
“I’m coming,” Mox stated, stepping forward to stand at my side.
His protectiveness made me smile.
I couldn’t read Dore’s expression, but his words made it clear Mox wouldn’t be accompanying me. “You think her not safe with me?”
I heard Mox take in a breath to say something before he changed his mind. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
I knew Mox was in trouble and I wanted to stand up for him, but if I intended to hold my ground later, picking a fight now wouldn’t get me off to a good start.
“Well,” Tareese said all smiles to break the tension, “as you will. Send word when you’re finished. Meghan, you can freshen up afterward.” She stepped forward and hugged me again, whispering in my ear, “Remember your hands.”
Tallow didn’t want his father finding out about my ability to see, but he’d obviously told his mother about it, and I was glad of the reminder.
I nodded as she stepped away from me, and I turned to Mox, removing his sweatshirt from around my waist and handing it to him with my pack. “See you soon, okay?”
His mouth twisted in concern. “Okay.”
Let’s get this over and done with. “Lead the way.”
Mox stifled a laugh, and from the look Dore gave me, the head of the Council of Kin probably wasn’t used to people talking to him with such informality. Laughter in my mind quickly faded as Dore walked away from Tareese and Mox and I realized I had to follow him. Alone.
I wasn’t quite as confident as I had been moments before.
6
In silence we passed some of the small hut-like structures before we moved down a slight incline through trees. The late afternoon sun didn’t reach into this part of the forest, making it cold under the muted light. I began to wonder if I’d made the right decision. Where was Dore taking me?
After a while the canopy opened up. Where we walked became lighter and brighter, although fingers of sun still didn’t reach the ground.
We came to the edge of a tree line and stepped beyond it. Below lay a hollow and at the center of it, seated on chairs at a rectangle table carved from stone, were six men wearing the same robes as everyone else I’d seen at the Eyrie. The Council of Kin.
The moment we entered the clearing, they stood and looked in our direction. One of them I recognized immediately. Berron. I stopped. I didn’t know what I had expected, but doubt tugged at me. Would I be able to stand my ground when I was that outnumbered, and with Berron in the mix? Was I too far away to call for Mox if I needed him? I glanced back the way we had come, but the forest had become a veil and hidden the path we’d taken.
“You have no reason to be afraid,” Dore said still walking ahead of me.
He hadn’t even looked back to see I’d stopped. How did he do that?
I needed to come across confident, even if at that moment I doubted the sanity of meeting the council on my own. Any unease might make them think I was a pushover, and I wanted to make it clear I couldn’t be manipulated if that was Dore’s intention.
“Oh, I’m not afraid,” I called after him, trying to convince myself with my own words. “Just taking it in.”
Berron glared at me, and Dore laughed.
“So come.”
I began down the incline after him. There were two vacant seats at either head of the table. Dore went to one. I went toward the other, exchanging glances with the council members who nodded in acknowledgment except for Berron. He stared at me with that same look of disgust. The men were of various ages. One looked only a little younger than Tallow, others were more the age of Dore and Berron. Their eyes flicked from my head to toes and back again. Beneath my calm exterior, anger rose. Berron had looked at me like that the first time we met, assessing me like I had something to prove to him. I didn’t. To any of them.
Reaching the remaining chair, I momentarily became distracted by the beauty of it and the table. They were constructed from polished stone in hues of brown, reds, and yellows, almost striped and, like the large door of the lodge, beautifully carved. On the tabletop, worn but still easy to identify, lay the image of an owl, wings spread wide, eyes like moons. I looked up instantly at the man whose image it mirrored—Dore sitting at the other end of the table.
He extended his arms out, palms facing the sky. “We welcome you to the Council of Kin. May those who have gone before us guide us. Please, Meghan May. Sit.”
I followed his direction, then leaned forward, placing my hands, clasped, on the table. The moment I did, everyone looked down at them, and Berron scowled as I realized my laid-back manner touching the sacred table, or whatever it was, not only showed disrespect but also demonstrated I was out of my depth. I snatched my hands back and placed them in my lap.
“You know Berron.” Dore nodded at my least favorite.
I didn’t look at him.
“Beside him, Mellison and Elaw. To your left, Wanton, Resh, and Denath. We are The Seven. This table rarely hosts eight, and you are the first of humankind to sit here. I hope this demonstrates to you the importance of what we must discuss.” He stared down the table at me. “We have heard a lot about you. Your attempts to help us were valiant, even if the execution was less successful than desired.”
For someone who wanted something from me, Dore wasn’t exactly going about it the right way. I didn’t need reminding I hadn’t done what they’d wanted me to do. They needed reminding they were lucky I’d agreed to help them in the first place.
“However, even failures can be full of surprises,” Dore continued. “I’ve been told you’re aware of our situation, that the Fallen hunt us. They don’t only hunt us here in the forest. They seek us no matter where we roam. The attacks you see all over the world, the ones the media reports as random acts of terrorism: some are, some aren’t. Some are, in fact, acts of genocide—the Fallen killing my kin. Nowhere is safe for us anymore. Do you know why they despise us?”
I remembered Tallow’s explanation the Fallen believed the only way they could return to heaven was if they killed every shifter on Earth. “Because the Fallen think you’re demons.”
Dore looked pleasantly surprised. “Yes, the work of the devil. And they think once they annihilate every one of us, God will forgive them and they can return home. They believe all kin are abominations. We are not, but there has never been a way to prove to them we are all creatures of whom they call God. At least, there wasn’t until several months ago. We found something, someone whose existence could, perhaps, change their perception of us. We found a kin who had fallen.”
Fallen? “An angel shifter?” Is that what he meant?
“Yes. An angel who was once kin,” replied the youngest at the table—Wanton?
“The first we have ever found,” said another. “Or maybe the first of many, only this time we discovered them before the Fallen did.”
“The significance of this cannot be understated,” Dore added.
I had already begun to connect the dots. If a shifter had been in heaven and then fallen, that meant… “If you have a shifter angel, it means the Fallen aren’t doing God’s work because God would never let a shifter into heaven if it were a demon. Right?”
“Exactly.” Dore pounded the chair’s armrests to emphasize the point and nodded at me as though pleased with how clever I was. “With her, perhaps we’d find a way to convince the Fallen what they believe, and their reasons for wanting us dead, are based on fallacy. Perhaps there could be peace between us.”
There were mumbles of agreement around the table.
“But you haven’t been able to convince the Fallen even with this woman?” I asked. He had said they’d found the fallen shifter months ago and yet I knew the war continued.
“Before we had a chance, she was taken from us.”
“Taken?”
“She was found in New York by one of the kin, alone, confused, and in animal form. He took her in and gave her shel
ter before reporting her discovery to me. I sent trusted kin to retrieve her and bring her to the Eyrie. As can be the way in these times, the Fallen happened upon those bringing her back here. All kin were killed, and although we never found the girl’s body, we assumed she’d been killed too.”
“It’s interesting the girl is still alive. Why? Do you think they know what she is?” Resh mused.
“There is no evidence to suggest they do,” Dore replied.
“Perhaps Lucien wanted a pet,” Berron said with disgust.
I’d heardly heard what they’d said. “The girl?” I’d thought they were talking about a woman. As the significance of Dore’s story suddenly became clear to me, I gasped. “You’re talking about Savannah Dacore.”
Dore leaned forward, his eyes as wide as the owl on the carved table. “Yes. Savannah Dacore.”
Surprise and even excitement filled me. I’d failed at planting the listening devices but achieved something even more significant without knowing it. “Why didn’t Tallow say anything?” When I’d mentioned Savannah’s name, he’d pretended he didn’t know her. Perhaps because he’d already decided to cut ties with me and the less I knew the better? Maybe he feared if he explained her significance I would have demanded to help because I told her I’d come back for her.
“My son had no knowledge of Savannah Dacore. The time between when we found her and when the Fallen intercepted her journey was short. Because we assumed her dead, I chose not to give hope to my kin and take it away all in the same breath.”
But she wasn’t dead. The truth dawned on me. I hadn’t failed. I’d succeeded beyond the Council of Kin’s wildest dreams. Now I knew why it was so important to convey the information I had about Savannah and Lucien’s penthouse to Dore directly. Any and every detail might be vital. “You asked me here to tell you what I’d seen. I’ll share everything I know. The elevator opens directly into Lucien’s penthouse, but there are two armed guards either side of it—”
“No,” Dore interrupted, waving a hand to dismiss my words. “There’s no need to discuss all that. At least, not now.”
Then why am I here? Tallow’s warnings about his father rang in my head. Was Dore going to say they needed my help? I needed to prove to Tallow I could take care of myself and wouldn’t let anyone manipulate me. I summed up all the courage I could find to give the impression Dore and his council didn’t intimidate me. I’d preempt any plans they had for me and put an end to them. “I seem to remember a conversation with Berron where he said Savannah was important. As I said to him, because she’s important you’ll rescue her, with or without my help. I’ve given you hope when you thought you had none. Now I’m here to give you information. That’s all I can give you.” Inwardly I panicked. Had I pushed things too far? At least I’d made my stance clear. They should have been grateful for what I’d already done. After all, I’d virtually resurrected their fallen shifter.
Dore’s eyes latched onto mine. Despite every part of me wanting to look away, I stared back at him.
“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Berron snapped.
I continued to stare at Dore, and his eyes didn’t leave mine. I waited, thinking he would explode at me. When he finally spoke, his tone was calm and measured.
“We would rescue her if we were able to. But you must be aware my kin can’t go near the Fallen. They sense us whenever we’re in close proximity to them. We have a few human allies, like Mox, however they can be enraptured. It’s too dangerous to send any of them. If they were exposed as shifter sympathizers and enraptured, they’d reveal everything they know about us. Even if they tried to withstand enrapturment, no one can endure the type of torture the Fallen inflict. It would be better to die than experience that.”
I knew what his intention was, bringing up Mox, making the dangers others would face far more personal than I wanted them to be. But what about the risks to me?
“You can resist enrapturement, even the enrapturement of one of the most powerful Fallen in this world. And from what Abriel has told me, Lucien has an interest in you that would make gaining access to his penthouse again relatively easy. You are the only one who has any chance of rescuing Savannah Dacore. She might be alive now, but I can assure you she won’t remain alive. Her fate is in your hands. The fate of all kin is in your hands.”
And there it was. As Tallow had predicted. Dore’s words had weaved a story I’d become invested in, about a girl I’d promised to save, then in the same breath he’d implied if I didn’t help, I risked the lives of people I cared for—Mox and Tallow—and her life as well.
My bravado disintegrated. I looked at the carved owl on the table and it looked like it was searching my soul.
You have things to do. Is this what my mother meant?
“And there is the question of my son. I am aware he has feelings for you, and perhaps you have feelings for him too.”
I knew what he’d say next, that if I wanted to be part of his son’s life I’d have to play my part and do what he said.
“Our world is a dangerous one while this war rages. My kin and humans allied with us die. Savannah Dacore could end this war. And after it ends, what obstacles stand in the way of you and Tallow?”
I had no idea how he knew about us, or how he’d become aware Tallow thought anything between us was impossble because he believed the world of the kin too dangerous for me to be a part of. But that wasn’t important. What filled my mind was the recognition that Dore was right. What would stand in our way if that obstacle no longer remained?
But how could I agree to help them save Savannah? I would have to see Lucien again, whose enrapturement had been like a hot blade to my brain and who had made me burn. And by defying Tallow I’d prove him right about his father and me.
There had to be another way. I needed to say “no” and be done with it. But that meant no to a future with Tallow and probably even Mox. No to Abriel being part of my life. No to Savannah, trapped alone and frightened. No to my mother, even though I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.
“I need some time.”
Dore grunted in disapproval. “Time? Every moment is another life lost. You know that, don’t you?”
I smarted at the implication of his words, but making me feel responsible for the death of people—of kin—wasn’t the way to make me do things. “I can’t give you an answer now.” I needed time to think, to talk to someone even though at that moment I didn’t know who.
Snide laughter filled my ears. I knew it was Berron without looking at him. “Do you expect us to shelter you from the Fallen if you refuse to help us? You are not kin. You know you need protection. Do you think assistance will be forthcoming when you give us none?”
When Dore didn’t interject, I took it as a threat from every member of the council sitting at the table.
I wanted to bare my teeth at Berron like he often did to me and say Mox would look after me. Or Tallow. Both of them. And Abriel—he’d protect me against the Fallen because he hated them. But would they? And was there a possibility the Fallen weren’t my only enemy if I didn’t agree to help Dore?
Inside I shook. On the outside, I said with as much courage as I could, “If you don’t want to discuss the things Berron led me to believe I was coming here to discuss, I think my part in this meeting is over.”
Standing, I looked up in the direction I’d come. Hopefully I’d be able to find my way back. And safely.
There were no words as I left, but as I reached the edge of the small clearing and stepped into the trees, I heard Dore’s voice, so loud he could have been standing next to me. “We shelter you tonight, Meghan May. You will give me your answer tomorrow.”
7
I navigated the forest and hoped I was heading in the right direction. I would have been angry at their veiled threats if I wasn’t concerned about them, or proud of myself for not being swayed to do what Dore wanted me to do if I wasn’t so confused.
If I told Tallow saving Savannah would mean no
obstacles could stop us from being together, would he change his mind about what his father wanted me to do? Of course it wouldn’t. It was the very thing he kept trying to protect me from—dangerous situations. And I was sure Mox wouldn’t let me return to Heaven’s Gate. But saving Savannah was a solution. To everything. I wanted to be part of this world. I thought I belonged in it. And I wanted all the complications the war between kin and the Fallen caused to go away. Then I could be with the people I wanted to be with—Tallow and Mox and, with them, Abriel. Besides, if I agreed to help, Dore wouldn’t cast me out. If he did that, I didn’t know where I’d go.
Caught up in my thoughts, I nearly careered into Tareese when she appeared from nowhere.
“How did you—?” She’d turned up as though she knew I’d finished my audience at the council.
“The trees have ears,” she answered. “And I figured you might need some help finding your way back.” She looked at me like a concerned mother would. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head. No. I wasn’t all right. Could I talk to her about all this?
“I’m sorry our welcome may not have been…” She paused. “Your welcome was less hospitable than I would have liked it to be. So, shall we start again? The huts and nests don’t have running water. In animal form we choose other places or means to clean ourselves, but our private residence has access to an underground spring. If you’d still like to freshen up?”
Anything that gave me an opportunity to hide away and process my thoughts was welcome. And maybe in the privacy of Tareese’s home an opportunity would arise to discuss what her mate wanted me to do. Would she understand my dilemma? “I’d like that.”
“Then that is what we’ll do.”
