Once Wendell marched ahead out of hearing range, Fleur whispered, “He has been holding meetings of his own in our home with the other farmers. They want to leave.”
“Leave?” Leyla gasped. “Foolish man. Leaving would be dangerous for you and little Finnie.”
Dyna looked down at the sleeping baby in Fleur’s arms. She’d been present at her birth and it’d been clear Finnie had been born with more Essence than her mother. Because of it, she couldn’t leave the village without attracting a mage, none of the women could. Essence was highly prized and sought. No mage would resist stealing it from them.
Her grandmother laid a hand over Finnie’s forehead. “How is she feeling?”
“Much better. Her cough vanished as soon as I gave her the tonic. Thank you, Leyla.”
“Of course. Bring her to me later so I can make sure she is fully recovered.” Her grandmother subtly tugged on Dyna’s sleeve. They slowed their pace, leaving Fleur to catch up to her husband. “I have a feeling this meeting will not go well.”
Dyna glanced around at the many grim faces of the villagers. Most were tense and angry, sharing grumbling conversations of their own. The villagers had grown tired of the council’s inaction of the incoming Shadow Winter. Answers were needed and they planned to demand them. It gave her the courage she needed to face the council.
“Be careful in there, blossom. Where there is unrest, there is trouble.”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
The path narrowed as they reached the village, and everyone headed toward the town hall building—a one-story structure of stacked stone walls and a thatched roof. A line formed as peopled filed inside in pairs. By the time Dyna entered, they had filled all the wooden benches. Many remained on their feet, arguing and shouting among themselves. Dyna took her grandmother’s arm and led her to the back.
Councilor Lorian stood at the front on a wooden dais with all of his self-importance in his crimson robes. He lazily held up his hands against their growing anger. “I must ask you for silence. We have gathered here to appoint a new council member. There will be an opportunity to discuss other issues at the meeting’s conclusion.”
The uproar swallowed his orders. Seeing the senseless arguing didn’t end, Lorian gave up trying to get their attention. He may have gained her father’s seat on the council, but he failed to command authority like the other five grim council members sitting at the table behind him.
Lady Samira sat at her position in the middle. The thin, wizened woman bared a stern glower, body arched within her mauve robes. She wore her white hair pulled back in a plait. Dyna and the councilwoman locked eyes across the room. Dyna quickly looked away to the other council members.
On the left sat Councilor Pavin; a plump, bald man in light blue robes. Next to him, sat Mathis, a thin and tall councilman with dark hair and a sharp, hooked nose. To Lady Samira’s right sat councilman Xibil with a long gray beard that matched the shades of his robes. His son, Cario, sat beside him. He was a handsome man with a mane of orange curls who drew the attention of half the women in the village.
And they each had turned their backs on Dyna’s father when he’d pleaded with them to listen. She had planned to do the same, but by their disengaged expressions, they were no more inclined to listen now than they were nine years ago.
“Why are we here discussing trivial matters?” Wendell barked at them. “The Shadow is coming.”
Lorian’s mouth thinned into a tight line. “Yes, we know it’s coming. Do you think us fools?”
One could argue.
“You look like a fool to me, Lorian,” the farmer growled, earning chuckles from the crowd. “The demon will be here next winter. It is coming to take our children and all you care about is who will sit on the council.”
The councilman flushed. “The Shadow will not take any more children.”
“And how do you plan to stop it? By offering it your bony neck?”
Dyna shook her head. As unappealing as Lorian was, shouting insults at the council would not be in their favor.
“We are well aware you have no children of your own,” said Duren, a furrier with a family of six. “If you did, perhaps you’d be more concerned.”
“We have been assembling a few plans,” Lorian snapped.
“What plans?” another man in the crowd hollered.
The villagers hurled their questions. A litany of voices all expressing the same essential concern—how will the council keep them safe?
“Well, we believe demon hunters will be of use.”
Duren repeated in angry disbelief, “Demon hunters?”
“That is your plan?”
“Nothing can kill the Shadow!”
