numbers was to cross a forbidden barrier and interbreed with the human race.'
Margrit, beneath her breath, asked, 'Do you all sound like this in your native languages, or is this just courtroom talk?'
Alban chuckled and Kaaiai broke off, frowning. 'I’m sorry?'
'Nothing.' Margrit put a brainless smile into place and shook her head at the selkie. 'Sorry. Go ahead.'
He frowned a moment longer, while Janx and Daisani exchanged amused glances, then began again with the same pomposity. 'We are tired of living in shadows, unacknowledged among the only peoples who might know us for who we truly are.'
'And what are you?' That came from Janx, his voice unusually measured. 'Half-breeds? Quadroons? Octoroons?' He took his gaze from Kaimana long enough to wink at Margrit, whose hands flexed against the tabletop of their own will. Janx looked pleased with himself as he returned his attention to Kaaiai. 'How far does the blood dilute and remain true, selkie lord?'
'Half-blooded children are full selkie,' Kaimana answered. 'Born to either skin, able to change when and where they will. Quarter-blood breeds true half the time, with a stronger propensity for it among women. We don’t know why. The chances of being a skin-changer fall off dramatically after that. We’ve kept very careful breeding records for centuries. Most of my people are close to full-blooded.'
'And how many are you?' Daisani steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, lips pursed with curiousity. 'I tasted five hundred heartbeats this evening alone.' He unlaced his fingers, gesturing dismissively. 'I have no dispute regarding your worthiness to call yourselves one of the Old Races. Your grace, your eyes, the scent of your blood…the vampires name you purebloods.'
Malik inhaled, a sharp soft sound, and even Alban stirred with surprise. Triumph, quickly tamped, flashed in Kaimana’s dark eyes as he inclined his head toward Daisani, whose expression remained pleasantly neutral as he awaited the answer to his question. Margrit wet her lips, breath caught in anticipation as she realized what he’d done. Whatever numbers the selkies laid claim to, Daisani’s recognition of their legitimacy played him into the position of their first supporter, a political move that would not, could not, go unremarked. Only Janx seemed unimpressed by Daisani’s pre-emptive move, his jade gaze slipping from vampire to selkie and back again.
'Thank you. Tonight’s showing is perhaps a single percent of our strength. Perhaps not so much as that.'
'Fifty thousand…?' Margrit didn’t realize she’d asked the question until all eyes turned her way. 'How’s that even possible? I thought you’d been decimated.'
Humor sparkled across Kaaiai’s face. 'Reports of our demise were greatly exaggerated.' His amusement faded and he turned his attention to the other curious members of the quorum. 'We lived at the edges of the sea, at river deltas and lake sides. Our natural habitat was the most appealing land for humans to settle. We had time to see and appreciate the changes that humanity could force on us, all unknowing. We began retreating long before our numbers fell as far as the histories were led to believe.'
'You lied.' The two words were almost a question. Incredulous, Alban shifted forward in his seat. 'You lied to the memory-keepers?'
'We permitted you to believe the obvious and inevitable had happened,' Kaimana allowed, then lifted a broad shoulder in a shrug. 'We lied.
'Our numbers did fall. Further than we even imagined they might, far enough that we saw no other recourse than to mix with the coastal humans in order to save ourselves. We kept apart, living in small villages, struggling to retain our old ways of life. Human blood gave us our numbers, but our hearts belonged to the Old Races. We abided by those traditions, living in exile from both humanity and you.'
'Until?' Janx spoke again, evidently more to take the table than any need to prompt Kaimana.
'Until Margrit Knight named herself our cousin, and gave us heart by telling us there was strength in numbers.'
Margrit snorted loudly enough to gain the group’s attention again. 'What? That never occurred to you before? There’s fifty thousand of you, and you didn’t think, gee, we could strong-arm our way back into soci …You didn’t,' she said in amazement at Kaimana’s faint, rueful smile. 'You really didn’t? What’s wrong with you? That’s not-' she shot a quick, bemused glance at the heavens '-human.'
Reversing her gaze, she looked around the table at the five representatives of different races. 'How do you do it? How do you live beside us, breed with us, and still retain this alien innocence that thinks so differently than we do?' She gestured at Alban, then at Kaimana. 'Gargoyles don’t lie, selkies don’t think of strength in numbers, God knows what dragons and vampires and djinn, oh my, don’t do. None of you make war? None of you think in terms of anything but isolated survival? How’ve you lived this long?'
'You’re quick to judge, Margrit.' Alban’s voice was edged with hurt recrimination.
She rose to her feet, exasperation driving her to motion. 'This isn’t judgment, it’s bewilderment. I honestly don’t understand how you can live beside humans and not learn from them, unless you’re deliberately keeping your heads in the sand. God forbid I should hold them up as shining examples, but look at those two.' She snapped her fingers toward Janx and Daisani. 'Like it or not, they live in the human world. They manipulate and power-play and hoard and make the best of their situations, and they’re successful at it. The rest of you, what are you doing? Pretending the nasty humans will go away and leave you to your ancient rituals and pastoral ways of life if you only hide your eyes and pretend you can’t see them for long enough? That’s like hoping all the wars will stop if you don’t read the news about them. It’s possible, but it’s also possible a million dollars will rain down on my head tomorrow. It’s just not very damn likely. Don’t,' she added, noting an impish gleam in Daisani’s eyes, 'get any ideas.'
He actually thrust his lower lip out in a laughing pout. 'Oh, very well. If you insist.' Margrit sank back into her seat, explosion over, as Daisani continued. 'Miss Knight is right, of course. We as a group of peoples do not participate in the human world, nor announce ourselves with such firmness as you have, Kaaiai.' He turned his palms up in invitation. 'What do you intend to accomplish here by doing so?'
'Legitimacy amongst the Old Races. Allies, if necessary.' The air in the room seemed to tighten, Janx, Malik and Daisani each hearing what they wanted to in Kaimana’s words. Only Alban remained unaffected, watching the selkie leader with a calm expression. 'A reconsidering of our traditional way of life,' Kaaiai stated more quietly. 'A new look at the exiling offenses and whether they are…relevant concerns in the modern world.'
Another wave of anticipation washed through the room. Janx and Daisani meeting eyes and holding some wordless consultation within the space of a moment. Margrit watched them curiously, wondering at the weight of unspoken communication there. Janx’s expression changed minutely, a flicker of eyelashes, no more, before Daisani turned his attention back to Kaaiai as if nothing had passed between dragon and vampire.
To her right, at the same time, Alban’s chin lifted, faint motion that spoke volumes from a creature born to stone. Beyond him, Malik stiffened, the one reaction out of four that struck Margrit as actively negative.
'Are we five to make this decision?' Alban asked. 'Without regard for what the rest of our people might say?'
'I wouldn’t complain, Stoneheart,' Janx said. 'This is to your advantage. I think your lawyer would advise you to accept responsibility here and now, and deal with the consequences later.' He arched an eyebrow at Margrit, who sighed.
'Of course that’s what I’d advise. I don’t think he’ll do it, though. Self-promotion isn’t exactly his strong suit. How many gargoyles are nearby? I know Biali.'
'There’s an enclave in Boston,' Janx said, after Alban’s silence stretched out. 'Half a dozen or more. One or two in Philadelphia. Several in Chicago, in D. C. A few in Atlanta. One in Baltimore, heaven knows why. There are others, but those are the closest. The oldest is in Chicago.'
'Remind me to ask you, not him, if I ever need to know where dragons are,' Margrit said to Daisani, then turned her attention back to Janx, who smiled toothily at her. 'Oldest as in older than Alban, or oldest of the others available?'
'Both. Biali’s older than Korund, for that matter.'
'Biali,' Alban growled, 'chooses passion over intelligence. He should not be trusted at a quorum.'
'Speaks the gargoyle who left Europe over a broken heart,' Janx said. Alban curled a fist and Margrit stretched to put her hand on it, wondering too late if the gesture would be welcome. His fingers tensed, then relaxed, and she withdrew her hand again, hoping his response was a positive sign. 'Find a suitable replacement or carry the onus of deciding yourself, Stoneheart. Malik seems to have no qualms about thrusting himself into a
