"...can't believe the Council allowed it," one said. "A mapinguari inside our walls."
"It's because of her. They say she's special."
"Special how?"
"My cousin works with the District Scientists. Says they've been monitoring her bloodline for generations. Something about compatibility."
"Compatibility? With monsters?"
"Keep your voice down! All I know is they're very interested in her... arrangement with this one."
My jaw clenched. Scientists. Bloodlines. Monitoring. The words stirred something dark and protective inside me.
"Redmon." Kalyndi's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "I need your help."
I moved to her side, aware of the conversations halting as I passed. She led me to a small storeroom filled with dried plants and powders.
"What did you mean about the blackwater marshes?" she asked, her voice low.
"The children's sickness carries the same scent as the flowers that grow there. Yellow blooms, blue centers."
Her eyes opened. "Marsh gentian. If that's the source, no wonder my usual remedies aren't working." She began pulling containers from shelves, muttering to herself.
The door banged open. An older man with a silver chain around his neck entered, his face twisted with suspicion. One of the Council elders, judging by the ornate staff he carried.
"What is this creature doing in our sacred healing chambers?" he demanded, not looking at me but at Kalyndi.
"Elder Farron," she acknowledged with a stiff nod. "Redmon is helping me identify the source of the fever."
"Helping?" He scoffed. "Or gathering intelligence on our defenses?" Now he turned to face me, hatred clear in his rheumy eyes. "We know your kind. You've raided our outposts for generations."
I crossed my arms, my claws visible against my dark hide. "If I wanted to raid your settlement, old man, I wouldn't need to spy first."
"Redmon," Kalyndi warned, placing a hand on my arm.
The elder's gaze flicked to where she touched me, disgust clear in the curl of his lip. "So the rumors are true. You've been corrupted by this beast."
"The only thing corrupting anyone here is ignorance," she snapped back. "While you stand there making accusations, children are suffering."
"And what miracle cure has your pet monster suggested?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.
Kalyndi lifted her chin. "Marsh gentian. The fever carries markers of the blackwater sickness."
The elder paled, his hostility momentarily forgotten. "That's impossible. The marshes are two days' journey beyond our territory."
"Nevertheless, that's what we're dealing with." She turned back to her shelves. "I need to prepare an expedition. The fresh root is the only effective treatment."
"No one's gone to the marshes in years," the elder protested. "The territory between here and there belongs to the Shadowclaw tribe."
At the mention of my rivals, I felt a growl rise in my throat. The Shadowclaws were vicious even by mapinguari standards, known for toying with their prey.
"I don't have a choice," Kalyndi insisted. "Without the gentian, these children will die."
The elder left in a huff of robes and muttered curses, but the problem remained. Kalyndi glared at her useless remedies, shoulders slumped with what needed to be done.
"I know where the gentian grows," I said quietly. "The fastest routes through the marshes."
She turned to me, hope and wariness battling in her expression. "You would lead an expedition?"
