Page 99 of Cathmoir's Sons

Nimanes interlaces her claws and nods to each of us. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

A circle of blue fire spins up around her. She disappears in a puff of sulfur.

I disentangle my fingers from Rhodes’ to rub my nose. That’s a stench I’ll never get used to.

“Everyone still have an appetite?” I ask.

Unsurprisingly, my consorts nod. They’re growing boys.

Before I lead the group to the feasting hall, I call to my small kin and let them know that the corpse is theirs. It might disgust Rhodes and Evan, but my Cait will understand. It’s the Mother’s Way. Nothing should be wasted.

I haven’t been in the feasting hall since I rebuilt Ceòfuar. My unawakened self has reconstructed it faithfully. The feasting hall is as light as the reception hall is dark, with windows on two sides looking out into the courtyard. A curious ponycorn peers in, its mouth full of Ceòfuar’s green, green grass, wagging out of either side of its mouth as it chews. Will-o-the-wisps circle thecreature’s horn dizzily. Smiling at their dance, I sit at the circular table that’s appeared on the dais, set for thirteen. Humans might consider that an unlucky number, but there is no such stigma among the fae. I welcome the humans, fae, and demons and sit between the twins so that Rhodes can keep company with Evan.

While the castle bwg parade through with sweet and savory dishes to tempt my guests, I hold a low-voiced conversation with my sisters. Didrane and Hraena have taken their fae forms, both mantled in feathers, to dine with us. If those around the table who met her as Braelin Greenlaw, Storm Lady of Ashegold, are surprised to see Hraena in her mantle, crowned with a crescent moon, her eyes gleaming the luminescent silver of the Mists in a band of black that stretches from temple to temple, they keep their council.

“Mortal mages consorting with those who will bring only greater chaos and despair to their world defies reason,” Didrane says. “I cannot understand their alliance.”

“Humans don’t always act in their own self-interest,” Law replies, gnawing on a drumstick. His comment earns him glares from Rhodes and Evan.

“Many humans don’t understand how the changes Bromios and his allies want will affect them,” Luca explains. “Or they believe they’re insulated by their wealth and privilege. I suspect Kimberly fell into the latter category. Capricorns are notoriously arrogant and entitled.”

“Hey,” Evan objects.

“Present company excepted.” Luca grins toothily.

“You are a naughty kitty,” I whisper to him.

“You should punish me,” he whispers back.

My cheeks heat. “That can be arranged. You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t involve a rolled-up newspaper.”

He chuckles and offers me a honey-soaked nightbell from his plate. I chew the bitter-sweet fruit while I listen to the conversation continue.

“Is there a way your family could profit from the weather changing to benefit ... what are we calling them?” Evan asks Rhodes.

“The Consortium of Chaos?” Rhodes suggests.

There’s a chorus of “nos” around the table, mostly from either side of me.

“Legion of Thunder? Fallen Angel League?”

Rhodes’ suggestions are met with more negation and guffaws from the demons.

Rhodes throws up his hands. “Bromios and Friends. And no, I’m not aware of any way the Hale family stands to benefit from climate change.”

“Something to investigate,” Evan says. Rhodes nods.

“The schism between Mordeh and her mother is another thing to investigate,” I suggest. “An alliance of three greater powers is bad enough. Look at the army Bromios alone was able to raise. What can Sariel, Melephesius, and Alugiel together bring to the field? Combine their potential might and allies with a ruler of Hell? That’s an unholy alliance in more than name. If it can be fractured from within, that’s worth pursuing.”

The Thistlemist prince catches my eye and nods, even though my words were really for the demons.

“I’m pretty sure Nimanes was just after the soul-trade,” Baron Ash says. “But I’ll look into why Licyssa would offer sanctuary to Bromios’ allies. That ain’t good. Mordeh may just be trying to thwart her mother. They’re not the best of friends. Or it could be somethin’ more. I’ll find out. Ercie?”

He tips his horns at the petite demon gleaming like an onyx between him and the demoness sporting an orange mohawk.If my unawakened self has met this demoness before, it’s not something I remember.

“My master would like nothing better than to encourage a rift in the Court of Mirrors. I’m happy to assist.”

“If there’s anything we can do, please let me know,” I offer. “My consorts and I are at your disposal.”

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