“You question me, when you have a Golden Eyes at your side, and one who openly claims allegiance to Lucifer?”
The Shadekin all stiffened, gripping weapons or sinking in their stance as they looked uneasily between Hever and Jann.
When I turned to my brother, his eyes glittered.
With rage? Or something else?
“ThisGolden Eyeshas proven his true loyalty countless times,” Jann growled.
“As have I.”
I sighed.
I decided the only way to keep peace wheneveryonefelt so suspicious of each other, was to speak with each people-group individually. I distracted everyone from Hever by asking the leaders of the gathered Shadekin, Centaurs, and Nephilim already present, to pull their people together. Yilan and I would speak with each of them in turn.
There were only a handful of Centaurs. I didn’t know how the Fetch had convinced them to join us—after all, I’d led the troops that subjugated them months earlier, and Jann told me about how aggressive they had become after Gall’s appearance.
But the highest-ranking Centaur present was a stallion. A chief. A massive male, with the fur of a predator slung over his shoulders. His dark hair hung in shaggy waves down his backthat matched the coat on his lower body and feathers in his wings. Yet, his eyes were as blue as the sky.
“My name is Kavros.”
When I approached with the humble stance—head down and shoulders forward—and offered the formal greetings of respect, he returned them—somewhat stiffly—but the Centaurs always prided themselves on their willingness to listen to wisdom and calm discourse. So, he listened carefully, and without interrupting, when I explained what had happened between Yilan and I, why I was leading what was considered a rebel faction of the Nephilim, and our shared hope for the future.
“…we envision a truly united Continent. Our peoples allowed to live their lives in their own lands, but all led by a singular vision. One that allowsourpeople to mingle freely—and removes the threat of Nephilim violence.”
The male folded his arms over his thick chest, and stamped his front hoof.
“I am here to hear you out, Melek—we were conquered and we don’t deny it. But my people are less than reluctant to invite any further interference from the Neph.”
“I don’t lead only the Neph—”
“You wish me to celebrate the union of the two most powerful peoples on the continent? You think that makes youlessof a threat?” he asked darkly.
That was when Yilan stepped forward, properly addressing Kavros, which surprised me. He was gentler on her, because she was female. The Centaurs valued their females, who were just as capable, and nearly as physically strong as the males, but more focused on breeding and raising their offspring, while the males protected and ensured provision for the females and young.
They were a mostly peaceful culture, and one I thought we could all learn from. I told him so.
His gaze flattened. “If you believe common flattery will impress me—”
“No,” I said hurriedly. “Yilan and I want to build a world with greater understanding and unity between nations. We can only do that if we learn how to hear each other—something you Centaurs are very good at.”
His jaw rolled and he looked away, making a low rumbling noise in his thick chest, but when he turned back to us, it was to thank Yilan for her respect and to wish her well in her endeavors, then to meet my eyes with skeptical consideration.
“Your vision does not offend our senses,” he said carefully.
I tried desperately to remember what that meant in their customs, but was still mentally scrambling, when Jann stepped up behind me.
“You bless our King,” he said quietly.
Kavros’ eyes darkened. “You should not speak for your people, Halfling. You entered our land without permission and—”
“It was only under greatest need, and when we were blown off course,” Jann said quickly, dropping his head to offer respect. Kavros’ lips thinned, but he didn’t interrupt. “I only meant to add my gratitude to the King’s.”
Kavros made that low, huffing rumble again, but turned his attention to me, apparently deciding he’d dealt with Jann already.
I cleared my throat. “I have no interest in mercenaries, Kavros,” I said quietly. “I only want to bring those here that would fight for our shared vision of the future. Do you… would you be willing? And do you think any of your brothers might hear me?”
“I could fight for this world you paint—if I were certain it was the goal.” He ruffled his tucked wings, in a universal sign of unease.
