Page 60 of Whisper Woods

He takes one of the remaining spare seats, next to the guy who has been giving me stink eye since we all sat down. At least now he’s stopped glaring at me to stare at this Heylor guy with moon eyes.

Not my circus.

“How is Brydon?” Another being at the table asks, oblivious to the tension in the room. Or they just don’t give a fuck. But Brydon isthis guy’sson? It’s not even that he and Brydon looknothingalike, they couldn’t be more different in their energy. I don’t really know Brydon, but he seems funny and cool. This guy? He isnot.

“He’s fine.” The guy waves his hand so dismissively it makes me irrationally angry. I decide I hate him. Passionately. Except I must give it away somehowbecause Rafe places a hand on my arm, his thumb stroking me, filling me with that same sense of relief his touch always brings.

It will be okay. I can almost hear him. And so I take a deep breath.

Heylor has noticed Rafe’s hand on my arm, his eyes like laser beams on the spot where his thumb is running over the bump on my wrist joint.

Suck eggs, fucker.

“This is Seff Harroway. He has come with Rafe to explain things that have occurred in the Mundane.” One of the Grand Masters, I think Rafe said his name is Yorin, takes one for the team and introduces me.

If looks could kill, I’d be a very dead wolf right about now. The hatred in Heylor’s eyes would be comical if it wasn’t directed solely at me.

“Really.” The pressure of his gaze pricks at my skin like a thousand tiny knives. It’s almost enough to rouse Wolf from his overwhelmed slumber and I barely have the energy to fight to keep him in check. The tension in the room is electric until the High Eminence cuts through it with deadly precision.

“This is ourjob, Heylor. The walls have fallen. Tathys is to join the Mundane. We need knowledge to ensure this process is as smooth and safe as possible for our people. The Whisper Woods, the Gods themselves, have spoken. Treat our guest with respect or remove yourself.” Elianora doesn’t raise her voice once in her speech, magic visibly contorting the air around her. And I gotta say, it’s been a while since I’ve hooked up with a chick, but it’s hot as fuck. Scary, too.

Heylor turns a rather nasty purple colour, his jaw ticking with the words he struggles not to spray at all of us. The being next to him, I think they are in the Orun judging by the super-crisp white robes, shuffles their chair slightly away from him.

“If everyone is done,” Elianora states, ignoring Heylor and piercing me with her almost vibrant pink eyes. I flush hot and cold under her stare, my stomach swirling viciously. “Seff, why don’t you tell us all what you know.”

***

I am dead. Dying of dead. Depleted. A husk. A shell of who I was two daysago. Or maybe I’m just exhausted and being a little dramatic.

Could go either way really.

The sun singes my already burning eyes as I walk with Rafe down the front steps of the palace to the Tathissian town square. After being low-key interrogated forhoursand reliving every single traumatic moment of our confrontation with the ancient fae Marieth and then every detail of what’s happened with Theo since, I feel like I have been gutted, peeled open and pulled apart for inspection.

I was conflicted at first, about telling them everything. But as they pointed out, they alreadyhadmost of the information from Rafe’s journals—which wasn’t exactly the positive argument they thought it was. I mean, we had our only argument ever over those fucking notes.

But ultimately, I decided that I trust Rafe, and by extension, I trust the High Council. Well, not that Heylor guy. He seemed like a real prick. But the rest of them genuinely seemed like they were trying to do the best by their city and their people.

They probably got the wrong guy to interview, though. Sure, I could clarify most of the facts about what happened at Marieth’s, but when they started asking questions about the technical side of the magic and the history, and then about the Mundane at large it became obvious I was well out of my depth.

Because that's what they call the outside world. The Mundane. Weird. Also kinda rude.

It wasn’t just me that was interrogated. Rafe had to answer eleventy-billion questions about everything he saw and heard. Just the same questions, over and over again with slightly different wording. Pages of notes were made—I don’t even know how they are going to be of any use to anyone there were so many. It was overwhelming just to look at.

And then there were the discussions. More like debates really. Every so often it was like the High Council and the high ranking members of the Orun would forget that Rafe and I were there and they would get deep into a heated discussion over what we said, over what other Tavishers have said and what was written in the giant-ass, heavy looking tomes the Orunkept poring over.

I lean heavily on Rafe as we walk down the beige stone steps. He is trying really hard to make it seem like he isn’t as exhausted too, but I can feel it. At this point, we are basically propping each other up.

Tathissians, of all shapes and sizes, and beings rush around us as we reach the stones of the town centre where Brydon is waiting for us, leaning against a big ass, five-sided fountain. In the centre of the fountain are five statues depicting the Gods. It looks like water is meant to shoot from various orifices, but the fountain is bone dry. It’s missing something too, from the centre of the statues, but I don’t know what. It just looks wrong.

On the other side of the fountain, directly opposite the palace, is another extravagant beige stone building with similar colourful glass, arched windows. It’s not as big as the palace, but is still pretty remarkable with at least three stories and an ornate, golden-domed roof. There are steps leading up to the building with a heap of beings in those white robes milling about. Enough to make me think that’s where the Orun live. Or work, or play. Whatever.

The two buildings seem to act as anchors for the town. On the other side of the fountain, there are more buildings all made with that same stone. The bottom levels all seem to be market stores and shops and restaurants. But there are more stories all stacked on top, some five or six stories high. Most look like they were added later, with slightly different architectural styles making everything look somehow chaotic yet orderly.

Rafe and I are too exhausted to talk, but Brydon maintains a steady stream of chatter as he walks with us back to Rafe’s home. I’m more than curious to see where he lives. There is a fizzy little pit in my guts at getting to know more about him and his mysterious life.

Magic is thick in the air of Tathys as Brydon points out the good bakery and the best place to get lunch. Food seems to be a big motivator for him. As we wind through the narrow streets, I can’t help but notice how the beings seem to avoid Brydon. Rafe gets the most attention, everyone going out of their way to greet him. They even have friendly and curious smiles for me. But Brydon? It’s like he’s a ghost. They look right through him.

What the fuck is that about?

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