Yasny frowned and blinked then smiled faintly before rubbing her face. Shaking her head quickly she smiled once more in a more genuine expression. “Do what you have to do, Seth. I will be around when you get back and I will make sure Fiona doesn’t come into the tower. The Undrae will remain undisturbed until you return,” Yasny promised, and let out a quick sigh. “If only you would have explained it sooner, Seth. I wouldn’t have been nearly so grumpy with you over the years,” she added as she waved a hand at him to go.
It was difficult not to laugh at her reaction, but Seth fought back even the faintest hint of amusement. He had thought she was resisting his magic when she had frowned, but it had clearly worked on her. He had developed a knack for detecting lies and Yasny was not lying. She was truly going to play guard dog for him until he returned. It was almost too much for him. Part of him had actually believed she was superior to the rest, but she had just proven that she was just another stupid bitch. Nodding his head gratefully, Seth gave her another special smile before shifting to his crow form. Bloody hell, he hadn’t expected her to actually believe the words he had spewed, but then she had been the one that asked for charm.
Typically, the souls of the Darklands lost the magic they had held in life. Seth, however, had not. Death had allowed him to keep his talents for one simple reason. It was another form of torment to remind him what he was. In life, he had never known who his father was. He had been slave-born in Avanti and that was all he had ever known. In death he learned the truth of it all, and the Divine had delighted in reminding him of it at every turn, even if it meant allowing him more power. Donrey Avanti had been charming when he tried to be. He had been an amateur compared to his son, though. Seth knew how to charm people better than anyone else. He could earn trust, love, or favors with nothing more than a smile and a hint of magic, and it had never been difficult. It was simply easier to kill them than to waste time with words most of the time. There were those that were too useful to kill, however, and those were the ones he reserved his smiles for.
*
There was nothing quite like spring in Firym. The lush jungles seemed to explode with life at this time of year and the fragrance of the flowers was intoxicating. The humidity and heat were enough to suffocate you as well, Seth decided, as he settled into the upper branches of a tree near the outskirts of the busy city. His eyes scanned the crowds, finally settling on a well-dressed young man making his way through the market with an expression of determination on his face. He carried several bundles tucked under one arm and to the casual observer he looked to be running important errands for his house, or perhaps he was a master tradesman. He was dressed well enough to be important, but the fact that he was managing his own shopping meant he was not important enough to be well known. It was a good disguise and a clever one. The average hunter would have been fooled by it. Seth wasn’t, and neither was the old man that was slowly making his way through the crowd browsing at various stands while still managing to keep the boy in sight.
Had he been in his human form, Seth would have smiled. He kept his eye on the pair of them moving from tree to tree as he silently followed them across the city. The boy seemed nervous and checked behind him several times as he turned corners or crossed busy streets. His shadow, however, was well trained and despite the boy’s obvious paranoia, he remained oblivious to both of his stalkers.
Nearly twenty minutes passed before the boy finally took to the backstreets and Seth wanted to strangle him for it. Time passed five times as quickly in the Darklands as it did in the Sunlit world. Every minute was precious if he was going to make it back before Zoelyn woke. Below him, the boy’s pace quickened and Seth glanced back toward the man shadowing him. A faint smile was creasing the old man’s face and if the hunter was worried about his quarry escaping, he was showing no signs of it.
Pity I can’t let you keep your prey, after all the effort you have gone through. Seth mused as he dropped down from his perch to land in one of the alleys near the boy. He shifted form and stepped farther into the shadows as he waited. The paranoid boy might look harmless, but Seth knew better. It was best to catch one of his kind completely off guard and strike quickly. If you gave them time to act, it could get ugly quickly.
The boy’s footsteps grew louder and Seth’s dagger slipped into his hand in response. His breathing slowed as he waited, silently counting the footsteps. Three more and the boy would be in the perfect spot. He caught a glimpse of the boy’s blue eyes as he glanced down the alley. Morcaillos never seemed to hide their eye color, and in situations such as now, it made them all the easier to spot. The Firym people typically had green eyes, brown and red were fairly common as well, but blue was extremely rare. Seth moved the moment the boy’s gaze turned back down the street, one hand sliding quickly under the boy’s chin, pushing his head up sharply, while his dagger plunged upward at the base of his skull. The combined force of the maneuver buried the dagger to the hilt, killing the Changeling instantly. Silently, Seth half carried, half dragged the corpse into the alley as the older man turned the corner, his eyes scanning for any sign of his prey.
Seth lifted the boy’s corpse more to keep the still kicking legs from alerting the man, and waited in utter silence as the second hunter approached. He wanted to test the man to see if he would notice the faint scuffs and droplets of blood on the cobbles. Most wouldn’t have noticed, but the old man did. With a genuine smile, Seth pushed the body from the shadows and watched the old man slide back with more grace than anyone his apparent age should have possessed as the changelin’s corpse hit the cobbles before him. A knife was gripped lightly in the man’s hand, ready to be thrown at any moment. His dark eyes scanned the alley, searching frantically for any movement, but there was no fear there, only anticipation.