Free Raven Flight by Juliet Marillier

knives?”
    “I’m a warrior.” Tali’s voice was perfectly calm. “I value my weapons, don’t doubt that. Both the iron ones and the others. But swords and knives can be replaced. Some things are irreplaceable.”
    “A man dies,” observed Hawkbit. “Another steps up tae tak’ his place. Isna that the way of it for your folk?”
    “It’s not so simple,” said Tali. “For now, I will lay downmy staff if your guard does the same, and if you give me an undertaking that both Regan and Neryn will be safe from any harm for the duration of this council.”
    “Tali—” Regan made to say something, perhaps to tell her no such promise was required. But the Northie guard was already setting his staff on the floor. He met Tali’s gaze across the double circle, and there was respect in his eyes. After a moment she too put down her weapon. Neither of them moved to sit in the circle. Trust, it seemed, went only so far.
    The Northies were quiet for a little. Then a being pushed back its hood, revealing that it was another catlike creature, black as night, its eyes an icy blue.
    “We ken ye hae big plans,” it said, looking at Regan. “And we ken ye seek tae involve our kind, force us tae help ye if we willna agree tae what ye propose.” A glance at me. “Set it out for us now; let us hear it.”
    “Wait a bit.” The warm voice was Milla’s; she had come out of the kitchen corner with a tray of little cups, and behind her was Brasal with a jug. “Councils make thirsty work. You’ll take a wee drop of my honey mead? And we have some morsels here to nibble on while you talk.” Eva was there too, kneeling down to proffer an earthenware platter laden with cakes delicate enough for the tiniest fingers. “The food is safe,” Milla added. “You must be aware that I get a good many of my ingredients thanks to your generosity, and I’m happy to be able to return the favor in a small way. Please enjoy it.”
    The Good Folk helped themselves; there were murmursof appreciation all around the circle. The basket Eva and I had fashioned was passed from hand to hand and admired. When both Northies and rebels had been served with food and drink, Regan stood up and the chamber fell into an anticipatory hush. What Woodrush had meant about the Master of Shadows and someone needing to be woken from sleep, I did not know. But it seemed the Good Folk had their own reasons for agreeing to talk to us at last.
    “I won’t draw this out too long,” Regan said with quiet assurance. “Thank you again for agreeing to come out and show yourselves, and to sit with us in this hall and listen. I understand why your kind chooses to remain largely invisible to ours, and I salute you for taking this risk.”
    “We wouldna hae done it, but for the Caller,” someone muttered from the Northie circle.
    “Hush your mouth, Vetch,” said the wee man, Hawkbit. “Dinna interrupt the laddie, he’s just gettin’ goin’.”
    “I am Regan, as perhaps you know, and I formed this band with a group of like-minded people some years ago. Our mission is to remove Keldec from the throne of Alban, to end his reign, and to ensure fair rule until such time as the heir is of age. In fifteen years as king, Keldec has transformed our peaceable realm into a place of fear and oppression, where nobody is truly free. The chieftains are cowed into obedience; they know that to speak out against the king’s might is to risk the destruction of everything they hold dear. There’s not a soul in all Alban untouched by this. Each autumn the human inhabitants cower under the scourge of the Cull, and in the seasons between nobodycan trust his neighbor.” He paused to draw breath. In the packed dining hall, there was not a sound. “The old rituals are all but forgotten; folk no longer trust in gods. Your kind have been driven into hiding by Keldec’s fear of the uncanny. He has little understanding of the Good Folk, but he distrusts your influence, hence his laws