Hunter's Death by Michelle West

Author:Michelle West
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2016-09-01T16:05:59+00:00

6th Corvil, 410 A.A.

Cordufar Estates

“They know that we’ve spies in the palace.” The words were sharp and crisp in the silence of the chambers that were reserved for the use of Lady Cordufar. The sun was coming down from the full heat of high noon, but the heavy curtains with their fringes of lace and lilac remained closed, denying the light.

Shadows, however, filled every possible corner.

“They do not know.”

“I tell you,” the man in the pale blue day-robes said, as he leaned forward and placed his elbows against his knees, “they know. Or if they do not, they will.” He looked fatigued; his hair was streaked grayer than it had been mere months past. But he did not look terrified, and even surrounded as he was by the personal servants of Lady Cordufar, he did not feel threatened. He was, after all, Krysanthos of the second circle, and although the magery of the demon lords rivaled his own, it did not surpass it. Still, he wished that of the three, he could deal with Isladar—that Lord was subtle and had an understanding of human nature that dwarfed many men’s.

Lady Cordufar rose angrily; she was, in all things, passionate. Her lips, thinned, were still a glistening curve, and her skin seemed to glow like a satin that demands the hand’s touch. Even so cloaked and so disguised, the true nature of Sor na Shannen could not be completely suppressed. She turned to her entourage. “Get out.”

They fell at once into the submissive posture and held it long enough to pay homage to her rank, but with enough brevity that they did not appear to be failing to comply with her command. It was clear that her wrath would be played out against something soon.

When they had cleared the doors, and she had secured them, she turned to Krysanthos and raised a dismissive hand. At once human guise fell away—as did the diminishment of human clothing. Her dark hair fell like shadow across her breasts. That was the only concession she granted him.

“You have not secured the return of the Spear or the Horn.” He saw her eyes flicker with a deep, red glow, and he stopped himself from smiling at her expense. It was enough to know that he was right, and that she knew it well. “You have also failed to rid us of the threat that the Breodani bring to the heart of our master’s dominion.”

“If we speak of failure,” she said, and her tone was an icy purr, “then we must speak of the attempt that should have been successful within the Hunter Lord’s demesne.”

This was not to his liking; he frowned and straightened out. “Sor na Shannen, whatever your regard for humans—”

“You have no more regard for your food and sustenance,” she said softly.

“You must acknowledge that we are in danger here,” he continued, as if she had not interrupted him. “This is not a mere city—it is Averalaan Aramarelas, and all of our foes dwell here in their greatest strength.

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