her pointed ears that revealed the animal inside her—the animal that made her less than human and, therefore, expendable. If men could not control it or rule over it, a thing had no place in the world. Which meant her kind had to be eliminated because the Fae would never be ruled by men.
And this one wasn’t even significant among her own kind. When he’d ordered his men to capture her, he
’d dropped his bow and stripped off his coat, throwing it over her head to confuse her if she tried to change into her other form to escape them. A little brown bird had fluttered beneath his coat.
One of the men had emptied a food sack, and they’d put her in it. He’d felt her frantic movements all through the ride back to the country house.
Just an insignificant little brown bird—with valuable information.
“Change back to your human form,” Adolfo said. “We simply want to talk to you. We want to understand the Fae. Change back so we can talk, and then we‘ll let you go.”
And, oh, after a bit of softening, how that little bird had sung.
The witches weren’t just the key to keeping the magic alive in the Old Places, they were the key that kept the shining roads open, giving the Fae access to the human world. That was why, after the witches in Wolfram had been eliminated, the Fae had disappeared, as well. By destroying one, the Inquisitors could destroy both kinds of creatures whose presence threatened men’s ability to rule.
Turning away from the Fae woman, Ubel walked over to the bell rope and pulled it so that the bell would ring in the sequence that told Assistant Inquisitors that their presence was required. He would let the Assistants bring the woman up to the wagon while he prepared for the journey to Durham.
He would be Adolfo’s eyes and ears. He would be the Master’s left hand. And he would make sure he was in a position to know which barons might try to thwart the Master’s great plans for this land.
Chapter Five
Lyrra followed behind the packhorse Aiden led. The forest trail they’d taken after leaving the main road wasn’t wide enough for them to ride side by side. Just as well.
Tears stung her eyes. One spilled over, ran down her cheek. She brushed it away, refusing to give in to grief. Aiden would be grieving, too, but both of them needed to stay alert.
The magic in this Old Place was swiftly dying. Which meant the witches who had lived here were already dead. When the Daughters of the House of Gaian fled from an Old Place to escape whoever meant them harm, the magic faded slowly. Being Fae, she could feel the difference.
Aiden had been reluctant to travel farther into the Old Place once they’d gone in far enough to feel the change. But she’d insisted that they needed to find out if any of the Fae whose Clan territory was anchored to this Old Place had managed to escape from Tir Alainn before the shining road through the Veil closed, trapping them beyond the reach of the human world ... or even their own kind.
The wind shifted slightly, bringing the smell of decay and rotting flesh.
Aiden reined in suddenly, his attention on a cluster of dead trees they’d have to pass between in order to continue on this trail.
Lyrra studied the trees neighboring the dead ones. What were those dark clumps in the branches?
“Lyrra,” Aiden said in a quiet, strained voice. “Turn the mare. Go back up the trail as fast as you can.
We need to get back to the road or find a meadow, a field. Anything with sunlight.”
“Aiden...”
Pieces of the dark clumps on the trees fell off, spread bat-like wings, and flew straight for them.
Nighthunters!
Lyrra wheeled the mare. The horse needed no urging to gallop recklessly back the way they’d come.
Fae horses had silent hooves, so she couldn’t hear Aiden’s gelding and the packhorse behind her—but she heard the hungry, angry squeaking of the creatures the black-coated Inquisitors created by twisting the magic in an Old Place. The nighthunters
Lorraine Massey, Michele Bender