For a beat, the Fae official said nothing. He froze at mention of the name and seemed to work over it with a good deal of interest. Then, nodding, he said, “I suppose he must have overcome our defenses and infiltrated the region. What was he doing there?”
Recalling the whole frightful episode, Minx tossed her shoulders to keep from shuddering in front of the priest. “He was standing in the water. He cut his arm and bled into it. I think it was some form of dark magic. I tried to stop him, but...”
Again, the priest fell into uncomfortable silence. “I see... That would explain things,” he finally muttered. “Something has changed in the lake—radically. It has been weakened. It may even be dying. Torrent's touch has altered it in some way, and the Silence was not prepared for an attack of this kind. I admit, we were outpaced, outsmarted.” He kneaded his pale brow. “The reason I asked to meet with you was because I wanted to know if you'd had any other visions recently. Has the lake reached out to you lately? Has it called out to you since Torrent's assault?” he asked.
Minx shook her head. “No. All's been silent on that front.” She hesitated to bring up her most recent visions—visions that had assailed her during the past few weeks, each of them increasingly violent and terrifying. She didn't mention the vision she'd suffered after losing consciousness near the lake that very day, either. It felt too personal to share, and she doubted the priest would care to hear about such a thing.
The young official stood. From the pocket of his robe, he withdrew a slip of crisp paper and extended it to her. “If anything should change—if you should hear from the lake or learn of Torrent's movements—please give this to your father or one of the other members of the High Council. They will understand and arrange another meeting between the two of us.”
Minx accepted the paper and glanced at it before stuffing it into one of the leather pouches on her belt. It was a narrow slip of paper boasting a simple crescent moon design—a design she'd seen during her last meeting with this mysterious figure. “Sure,” she replied. Then, turning on her heels, she left the room as quickly as she could, unwilling to spend anymore time with the man. There was too much to do, too much to rebuild, for her to waste another minute with him. If I stick around long enough, he'll start grilling me about finding another dragon's hide. If he suggests I kill Kaleb again, I'm going to lose it...
The Fae huntress stole out of the Council chamber and hurriedly made her way back to the main square, where Kaleb and Mau were still hustling to aid the wall-builders. Even as the sun dipped out of sight, lamps were being hauled in and the sounds of hammering and brick-laying filled the new evening. For some hours, Minx aided the others, carrying loads of mortar and brick. She even stopped in to the medical tent, lending her healing talents to a few of the wounded when the Fae medics proved overwhelmed by demand. When night had well and truly settled in, she left the tent and shuffled with Mau and Kaleb toward her home.
Had the dark forces surrounded Pandling Grounds at that moment and staged an attack, Minx could not have opposed them. Feeling utterly drained, with nothing left to give, she escorted a similarly fatigued Kaleb to an empty tree house across from her own before retiring to her quarters with Mau. There, she collapsed onto her bed and did not rise till the sun had reappeared in the sky. Her dreams were muddled and terrifying the whole night long, punctuated with the ghostly wailing of the suffering lake she'd heard in visions. Her dreams were populated, too, by dark figures—dark figures robed in black and working strange spells in the shadows of night.
When awareness stole over her and she crept out of bed late in the morning, she felt cognizant enough, but the incredible strain of days prior still haunted her muscles and joints. She and the Faelyr stuffed themselves with whatever food they had on-hand and then strode outside to meet Kaleb, who'd similarly scarfed down a hasty breakfast given to him by a charitable neighbor. The dragon shifter, mighty though he was, looked positively worn out. His broad shoulders were slumped, his steps were pained and he retained all the grime that battle and repair-work had leveled upon him the previous day. Of the three of them, Mau had most fully recovered—but even the Faelyr paced about the outer deck with something of a limp.
Kaleb yawned as the three of them began walking toward the Trading Center. “Nice of Torrent to let us sleep. I thought for sure we'd get raided in the night.”
Minx nodded. “I thought so, too. But the scouts we sent out mentioned some degree of confusion amongst the marauders. It's possible they suffered some losses of their own in the quake.” She bore a dark grin, adding, “Anyhow, I don't think they're going to give us another break like that, so I hope you slept well.”
The Faelyr paused to stretch, her tail waving languidly in the morning breeze. Ask Kaleb if we can take a little trip to the Talon Range—you know, just get away for a few days. A nice, long rest is all we need to come back as fighting machines. It would do us good, and I'm sure the other Fae can handle this mess while we're gone.
Minx rolled her eyes. A vacation to the Talon Range? Dream on.
The three of them returned to the square. The wall-mending work had continued through the night, and a new shift of workers presently patched the fractured walls like ants building a mound. A handful of archers kept watch from the tops of the sturdiest sections while within the walls the
