“Careful axe cleaving. Whispers weaving,” Thyrawhispers, her hand again twitching on my arm. “Listen.Listen…”
I calm my thoughts, keep my focus on the frightened young woman trembling on the path only five paces away, remaining aware of any sudden moves from any fae around us while I extend my hearing past the immediate hush and beyond…
Through the buildings one street over.
To the buildingsthreestreets over…
Where fae have continued about their business, completely unaware of my nearby presence.
I seek the sounds Thyra described: thethudof an axe against wood and a whispered conversation.
I stiffen to hear Lilis’s voice, not away in the north as she said she would be. I picture her standing, tense and ready to strike, beneath the shadowed eaves of what must be a carpentry.
“What do you want with me?” she asks.
In response to her question, a responding voice sounds, a male voice whispering close to her. “I’m here to warn you.”
I recognize this voice, although I heard it for the first time only days ago. It’s Iker’s illegitimate son, whose name is unknown to me.
“Why?” Lilis snaps. “We were never friends.”
“We weren’t allowed to be friends,” he says. “Lilis?—”
Her sharp inhale tells me he might have tried to touch her, confirmed when she hisses, “Move an inch closer and I’ll strike you down.”
His voice hardens. “Iker has decided how his heir will be chosen.”
Lilis is less snappish this time. “How?”
“Whichever child brings him the Oracle—alive—will live to reign.”
She huffs. “Of course he wantsthe Oracle.”
“The challenge is far more complicated than it seems,” the nameless man continues. “Your king has challenged Iker to come for the Oracle himself. For every assassin Iker sends in his place, your king will kill one of Iker’s heirs.”
“So…for every heir who fails to secure the Oracle, another heir will die?” Lilis gives a laugh of pure, icy joy. “Iker will quickly lose all his successors this way.”
“He doesn’t care.”
Lilis’s laughter dies. “Of course he cares. His lineage means everything to him. You know this well.”
I imagine the nameless man shaking his head. “He’ll give up anything to speak with the Oracle. He needs her. Desperately.”
“But…why?”
I’m near frozen where I sit, taking in every whispered word between Lilis and the nameless man in the distance.
At the same time, I’m aware of the scene playing out in front of me.
For extended moments, the young woman has taken glances at us. The longer we remain stationary, the more anxiously she glances around, and the more dismayed she appears about the pieces of fruit that rolled across our path.
Precious food.
Indeed, others are now eyeing the plums, too.
She had her basket covered for good reason.
On the other side of the street, a young man has paused at the edge of the walkway, his focus darting from the fruit to the young woman.
