Page 201 of The Shadow Wand

Elloren Gardner is alive.

And both the Gardnerians and the Vu Trin know what she is.

Oh, Elloren,Tierney grimly marvels,you’ve triggered a war, haven’t you? A war that was coming regardless, but a war sparked now because of you.

But if Vogel doesn’t have Elloren and there’s serious conjecture that Elloren might come to the Eastern Realm...

That means that she’s on the run.

And likely not just from Vogel.

A tremor shivers through Tierney as she pictures her close friend’s face on all those postings and everything snaps into lethal clarity.

This isn’t a search for Elloren’s protection. This is a manhunt. Tierney is bone-deep certain of it.

If the Vu Trin find Elloren, they’ll kill her.

Subversive resolve coalesces inside Tierney as she comes to terms with what she must do. She holds her palms out toward the Vo and sounds a beckoning call to summon her kelpies.

You fear for her.

Alarm spears through Tierney in response to the preternaturally deep voice sounding inside her mind. She lowers her palms to the terrace railing, teeth gritted, as her heart pounds against her chest and she keeps her eyes focused on the storming Vo.

Lightning flashes.

“Get out of my mind, Viger,” she snarls, struggling to hide her desperation to force him out of her thoughts.

Because what she’s going to do could get her thrown into military prison. And if Viger senses it...

“Why do you fear for the granddaughter of the Black Witch?” Viger presses in that insidious tone of his.

In a flash of anger, Tierney rounds on the dark-eyed young Fae, the sheeting rain around him turned to a shroud of mist that’s halted by the dark aura swirling around him. His gaze is a compelling pool, and Tierney is immediately caught up in the sensation of falling toward him.

The whites of Viger’s eyes ink to black as Tierney’s fear swirls around her, like a pond stirred by a stick.

“Keep your thrall off me, Viger,” Tierney snaps. “I’m warning you. You’re not the only one with power.”

Viger’s form instantly morphs to dark mist then disappears as Tierney internally curses him, curses the entire situation, her fists tightly balled.

“Why do you fear for her?”

Her ire spikes as Tierney whips around to find Viger’s tall form now calmly reclining against the terrace rail, uncharacteristically devoid of his usual covering of snakes, his horns absent, the whites of his eyes back, his claws retracted.

“If I talk to you,” Tierney says sharply, “will you stay put and spare me your Death Fae theatrics? It’s impressive and spooky, but I’m in no mood for it.”

Viger goes silent as only a Death Fae can. It’s not a normal silence. It’s a stillness that seems to reverberate through the air on some low, bone-deep frequency that feels like being buried in the very center of Erthia.

In this moment, Tierney finds him oddly comforting—his strange thrall, his pale, morbid appearance. His complete outcast status.

Tierney considers how the Death Fae are famous for their nonalignment with any group. How they stand apart from any mob.

Which seems like a very large mark in Viger’s favor at this moment, frightening as he can be.

“You’ve become a friend to Elloren Gardner’s brother,” Tierney notes with a trace of challenge. Wanting to assess where he really stands.

“He’s not what they think,” Viger states as the rain picks up, casting his form in mist. All except those hypnotic, dark eyes of his, their focus intensifying. “You’re summoning the Deathkin water horses to find the Black Witch,” Viger reads with unflinching accuracy.

Tierney’s magic seizes as she struggles to find a plausible lie to refute this. But she’s devastatingly clear on one of the main reasons the Death Fae are mistrusted and often flat-out reviled here.

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