Page 36 of Shield of Fire

“Let us hope that’s something we never find out,” the Malloyei pixie commented dourly. “Was not a stock-take done just before the hoard’s theft? If the shield was already gone at that point, it would have been brought to our attention.”

“Not necessarily,” another light elf commented. He was the youngest-looking of the six in the room—younger even than Mathi. Although, given their timelessness, it was a perception that might not hold true. “Especially if the bibliothecary was working with those who stole the hoard. He was later found dead, was he not?”

“Yes,” Mathi said. “His death remains under investigation.”

“Is it true he was found in an old Myrkálfar tunnel?” another light elf asked, in a mild sort of tone.

His gaze remained on Mathi but there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind who the comment was aimed at.

A chair scraped as a thickset dark elf whose energy held none of the magnetism of Cynwrig’s rose. “If you’re implying that we?—”

“Bodhrán,” Cynwrig cut in softly.

The other man glanced at him, annoyance evident, but he didn’t finish his statement and sat back down. It was the first time I’d actually seen Cynwrig wield the power—however softly—that was his by right as co-heir to the dark elf throne.

“I’m sure Kytrain did not mean to imply anything by that question, Lord Lùtair,” the rat shifter said with a dour look at the light elf.

I was damn sure he did, and the “blink and you’d miss it” smile that briefly adorned his pale lips said as much.

“Are we able to access the stock records?” my blue-haired counterpart asked. “Checks are done every six months, are they not? That would at least give some indication as to when—if—the shield disappeared earlier than the hoard.”

The rat shifter glanced briefly at the ceiling. “Líadan, please submit an immediate request for the full records of the last stock take performed on the hoard.”

“Submitting,” a ghostly voice replied.

It didn’t sound human, but it also didn’t have a mechanical echo that was sometimes evident in the voices AI programs used.

The rat shifter returned his gaze to me. “It is the council decision that you should concentrate your current efforts on retrieving the shield and its rubies. Mathi Dhar-Val will act as council liaison?—”

“A decision I was not involved in and do not agree with,” Cynwrig growled.

“—and consult with Lord Lùtair as and when necessary,” the rat shifter continued, with only the slightest twitch of his nose giving away his sudden nervousness.

“She is mine?—”

“I belong to no one,” I cut in, meeting his gaze steadily.

“—to guard,” he continued, his eyes giving little away but that radiating energy speaking volumes. “Until the life owed is repaid.”

That’s not what he’d intended to say at all, and we both knew it. I just wasn’t entirely sure what he had meant. It wasn’t like we were—or ever would be—in a monogamous relationship.

“Be that as it may, we cannot afford our hunter to be distracted, given how imperative it has become to find the hoard—something well illustrated by the recent attacks,” the elderly light elf said evenly. “The council decision on this matter holds, Cynwrig. Your presence and your vote would not have swayed the result in any manner.”

“And I,” Mathi said, with surprising earnestness, “did not raise the issue, in case that’s what you were thinking.”

Cynwrig stared at him for several seconds, then nodded imperceptibly. Explanation accepted and fury—at least as far as Mathi was concerned—diverted.

“Then who did?” I asked curiously. “What business is it of the council who I happen to be sleeping with?”

No one answered. No one appeared game, given the festering fury sitting at the other end of the table.

The rat shifter waved the gavel, drawing my attention. “That is not your concern?—”

“It is if it continues,” I cut in. “Let’s get one thing straight here—I may work for you, but I do so unwillingly, as a form of punishment. If you start sticking your fucking noses into my personal life, there will be consequences.” I gave them a sweet smile that would have served as a dire warning of trouble arising to anyone who actually knew me. “After all, while the pixie council ceded you my assistance, they never guaranteed that assistance would be fruitful.”

“Is that a threat?” the bear shifter growled.

“Sounded like it to me,” Mathi said cheerfully. “And you would be well advised to heed it.”

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