The shifter’s black wings had been severed from his crow form before he’d shifted back. He’d been brutally tortured before succumbing to his injuries, and his killers had arranged his body in a bloody, macabre display of death.
A message had been written in Grave’s blood on the snow.
We will not be silenced.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, a note had been pinned to the shifter’s torso.
Death to the Representatives.
A military team had done a preliminary sweep of the crime scene before transporting the Representative’s body for autopsy. Judging by the boot prints in the crimson snow, at least three people had participated in the attack.
According to Nalon, the murder was a trigger. The first in a series of events that would lead to a massive shift in the country’s stability, Blackwing’s death was a canary in the coal mine.
If no action were taken, hundreds of thousands would perish.
A folder snapped shut, a clap of thunder in the otherwise silent room. Every head in the room turned towards the Chancellor.
Ignatia Rose, a fire fae, was the fourth of her family line to hold the Chancellorship. She leaned back in her chair, rested her chin on her fist, and studied the room. She’d taken the time to change out of her formal gown into a tailored dusty rose business suit before the meeting began.
Nikhail supposed that when one was presiding over the entire country, one could be late to one’s own meeting.
“Thank you, Nalon,” said the Chancellor. Even without her magic, she was a picture of power. Of course, the five armed guards fanned out behind her helped with that, as well. “We heard you the first four times.”
The Fortune Elf pounded the table, water sloshing from his glass from the impact.
“Then why thefuckare we still here, Ignatia?” Winterthread growled.
If he had access to his magic, silver would’ve flashed through his eyes.
“What exactly would you have me do, Nalon?” Even though the Chancellor hadn’t changed her position, herauthoritative voice sharpened. “We’re investigating the murder, but there’s nothing else we can do right now. It’s the middle of the night.”
Nalon snarled. “Chancellor?—”
“You said it yourself, Representative, your visions are unclear. You cannot See the Black Night or where they’re hiding.” Chancellor Rose sat up and rested her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers. “The information you provided is weak at best. How do you expect me to act on it?”
“I expect you to fucking care!” Nalon shoved away from the table, his chair scratching the floor. He ran a hand through his white locks, a feral look passing across his eyes. “I told you, death iscoming. The paths of the future are dark, and the Black Night is on the move. They won’t be easily stopped this time.”
Most people wouldn’t get away with speaking to the Chancellor in such a tone, but the Fortune Elf was nearly as old as her. Not only that, but it was an open secret that Ignatia and Nalon had been involved with each other ever since the Chancellor’s husband died in a tragic accident years ago.
Murmurs spread through the room as Nalon continued muttering. His words became a jumble of phrases, cryptic and incomprehensible.
It wasn’t abnormal for Fortune Elves to become more enigmatic over time—walking the silver planes day and night, watching the future and all its possible paths, took its toll on them. The more powerful they were, the more their minds were in danger of slipping.
Several minutes passed as Winterthread’s murmurs grew louder and more frantic. Eventually, the Chancellor shoved back her chair and stood.
“We are not discounting your visions, Nalon,” she said patiently.
His pacing paused, and he looked over to the Chancellor. “It sounds like you are.”
“We just need to be certain. Why don’t you walk the silver planes once more?” she said placatingly. “Tell us what you See. From there, we’ll make a plan.”
Nikhail wasn’t sure if it was the Chancellor’s calming tone or the offer to Look ahead that appeased the Fortune Elf, but either way, relief passed over Nalon’s face, and he dipped his chin. “Of course, Ignatia. I can do that. I will return as quickly as I can.”
He turned, walking out of the conference room. The prohiberis would prevent him from walking the silver planes inside the Hub, so he had to leave. As the door was about to shut, Chancellor Rose lifted two fingers. A pair of guards peeled off the wall, following the Fortune Elf outside.
Protection? Insurance so that he didn’t leave? Nikhail wasn’t sure, but tension rose as the doors shut behind them.
Thick, heavy silence blanketed the room.