Third Street was all the way on the other side of Shiftertown, near the bay where the more affluent shifters lived. Lakin parked in front of my aunt’s residence, a three-story house with grey siding, dark purple roof tiling, and matching purple shutters. A horse-drawn carriage was already parked at the curb in front of the steps. The front door was wide open, and the sound of a woman wailing was clearly audible from the street.
“Stay out here,” Lakin snapped as he ripped off his helmet. He raced up the steps and into the house. I followed after him, knowing he didn’t have the time to stand around and argue with me.
We found the source of the wailing in the parlor, where a veritable party of shifters were gathered, dressed in dinner finery. I recognized them all – this was the shifter Council and their respective families, likely all here at my aunt’s house for some kind of social event. They were gathered in a circle around a low couch, where a man lay with marble skin that looked like death. He had rich, dark brown hair and was wearing a gold waistcoat, white linen shirt and white slacks. I recognized him instantly as Corin Finehorn – the head of the Deer Clan, and one of the five council members.
“No!” Larana, Finehorn’s wife wailed, clutching her mate’s hand. She wore a dark green dress, gold jewelry dripping from her ears and throat. “It can’t be. He can’t be gone!”
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. He placed a gentle hand on the woman’s slim shoulder. “There’s nothing more I can do for him.”
“By Magorah.” My aunt Mafiela spoke in a clipped voice. She wore a white dress that highlighted her slim figure, and her wealth of golden hair was piled atop her head in a matronly up-do. Pearls gleamed softly at her ears, throat and wrists, and if not for her yellow shifter eyes, I would have thought her a human socialite. “This is outrageous. Corin was perfectly healthy when he arrived at dinner tonight. How could this happen?”
“He was poisoned, wasn’t he?”
Lakin winced as every single person in the room turned to look at me. Mafiela’s eyes widened in outrage. “What are you doing in my home!” she demanded, her cheeks coloring.
“My apologies, Chieftain Baine.” Lakin took a step forward to deflect attention onto him. “I was questioning your niece when I got the alert, and she followed me here.”
“Well it’s about time,” Mafiela snapped. “We’ve been waiting for ten minutes.”
“Is… is it true that poison is what killed my mate?” Larana rose to her feet from her position beside the couch. Her doe eyes were filled with tears.
“The reaction does seem alarmingly similar to that of someone afflicted with silver poisoning,” the doctor hedged.
Larana’s eyes flashed. “You!” she pointed a trembling finger at my aunt. “You killed my mate!”
“That’s absurd!” Mafiela snapped. “Why would I do such a thing? Corin and I were good friends, fellow council members!”
“He was eating your food.” Larana’s voice wobbled. “Drinking from your glasses.” Her face crumpled as she dissolved into tears again. “He’s gone, and it’s all your fault!”
The woman lunged at my aunt, her eyes wild with grief and rage. Mafiela sidestepped, her own face mottled with fury. She raised her hand to strike Larana, and I darted forward, catching the blow before it could land.
“Don’t you think this poor woman’s gone through enough?” I snarled. “You couldn’t even take a moment to offer her some consolation, and now you’re going to beat her up too?”
Silence froze the room. Mafiela’s yellow eyes glittered at me with pure malice, and for a moment I wondered whether or not she would try to strike me too. I had no illusions about her – she might be dressed up like a lady, but beneath the fa?ade she was all beast, one of the most ruthless people I knew. Part of me wished that she would lash out – I longed for provocation of any kind to take my years of pent-up anger out on her. But my more rational side knew that I could never get away with such behavior in front of the Council, even if I was the Chief Mage’s apprentice.
“Mafiela.” The deep voice of Toras, the Tiger Clan Chieftain, rumbled through the air. “The half-breed is right.”
“Fine.” Sneering, Mafiela wrenched her hand from mine. “I apologize for my behavior. Now get out of my house.”
Trembling with anger, I took a step toward her, intending to give her a piece of my mind.
“Don’t.” Lakin’s hand clamped around my wrist. I whirled on him, a fiery retort on my lips, but the silent plea in his yellow-orange eyes gave me pause. “This isn’t the time.”