Alora stretched her neck toward him, straining, until their lips just brushed together, sending a thousand tingles down her neck to make goose bumps on her arms.
“Alora! Kaevin!” Markaeus burst through the stable door, panting for breath. “Come quick! Uncle Charles says come right away!”
“Where? What happened?” asked Kaevin, hefting Markaeus up to sit in front of him on his mare.
“I went with him to help clean out the root cellar. But when he opened it, he found something big and dead and stinky inside. He said you might know what it is.”
Kaevin bent his head back, laughing. “You never told Uncle Charles about the wendt?”
“I kept meaning to tell him, but I forgot.” Alora’s stomach turned, imagining her uncle’s irritation along with the stench of the dead wendt. “How are we going to get that huge, nasty thing out the door?”
“I have a thought… Since Raelene has taught you the method to transport inanimate objects, you should send the carcass to Vindrake.” Kaevin wagged his eyebrows, biting back a smile.
“Kaevin, you’ve got a devious mind,” Alora answered with a conspiratorial grin. “Just one more reason to love you.”
~ Epilogue ~
Vindrake regarded the haughty man standing before him, dressed in the finest leathers, with grey-peppered brown hair meticulously arranged. Deep green eyes held his gaze without flinching. Though his arrogance begged to be taken down a notch, Vindrake was curious when his guard informed him that a Stone Clansman had come, volunteering to take the oath of fealty. Surely, he’s lying… probably a spy sent by Graely BarManasae. What an idiot to think he could fool the greatest judge of all time.
Tossing a few grapes into his mouth, Vindrake turned his attention back to his food, forcing the man to watch him partake of a leisurely meal. After finishing the last crumb on his plate, he allowed a servant to wipe his mouth with a warm cloth. Vindrake’s fingers idly traced the elaborate carving on the side of the heavy wood table, a recent addition to his chamber, built by Water Clan artisans to replace the destroyed stone table. The spy held his peace though Vindrake could sense his irritation at being ignored.
“Why have you come, unbidden, to Portshire? And why should I not kill you where you stand?” Vindrake stretched his hand toward the man’s throat, flexing his fingers to apply slight pressure, just enough to remind him who was in control.
“Master Vindrake, I’ve come to give you my loyalty and hope to prove myself worthy of your esteem.” Forcing the words through his constricted airway, he gave no indication of discomfort.
“Why would I be interested in someone who’s proven himself to be a traitor?”
“I’m no traitor—it is Graely who has betrayed me. I’m extremely gifted in farsight, and by all rights, should be Stone Clan’s chief of farsight. Yet Graely chose to promote Darielle upon her father’s death. A woman. Having only twenty-six years.” His lip curled in obvious distaste.
“Imagine.” Vindrake let the man draw his own conclusions from his sarcastic response, as he had no such reservations concerning gender or age.
“Though I offered my services on numerous occasions, Graely has rejected me each time. It’s as if he doesn’t trust me. Or perhaps he underestimates my gifting. Yet he’s been fostering that boy, Jireo, who’s only recently come into the farsight gift. I’ve come to realize, even if Darielle were to have some unfortunate accident resulting in an early demise, Graely will never give me the position of honor I deserve.”
“And so you’ve come to me? Expecting to become my chief of farsight?”
“I only wish to have the opportunity to prove my giftedness. I’m quite certain you’ll find me invaluable, and you’ll wish to reward my service with a position on your council. But I make no demands.”
“It is well that you make no demands, because such behavior is rewarded with death, not a council position.”
The traitor’s eyes flickered with fear—only for a moment—before his poise returned. His lips remained frozen, but his voice spoke in Vindrake’s mind. “I’m certain you won’t wish to waste my farsight once you realize the extent of my gift.”
Vindrake leapt to his feet, seething at the intrusion. “Never again enter my mind without permission!” He moved within a hand’s width, glaring at the startled Stone Clansman, who retreated a few steps.
“Begging your pardon, Master Vindrake. It was the only way I knew to demonstrate my giftedness.”
“I don’t find your invasion impressive.” A lie, of course. And the traitor’s half-smile told him they both knew it. Vindrake couldn’t help being stunned that the Stone Clansman had bypassed his carefully constructed barriers in order to speak inside his mind.
“Once again, Master Vindrake, I beg your pardon. I promise not to circumvent your mind’s protection again.” Though his expression remained neutral, his words em
phasized the fact his gift was stronger than Vindrake’s.
I should kill him for his impertinence, and I will. But first I will use him for my own purposes. Vindrake returned to his chair, resting his elbow on the table.
“What of your people? You have no loyalty to Stone Clan?”
“Graely lost my loyalty and respect when he refused my generous offer to serve as chief of farsight, at least until Darielle acquired thirty years. He claimed my nature was too violent for a council position, but that accusation is based on a lie.”
“What lie was told concerning your violent nature?”