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“Good morning, Ray,” I said through a yawn.
“It’s almost noon.”
“It was a late night.”
“I noticed. Listen I’ve been doing some research,” Ray said. “I think you need to see this.”
I followed him into the kitchen to the ancient computer that took up half my counter space. “What kind of research?”
“I thought I’d get a jump on this Wild Hunt business.”
“That’s very enterprising of you.”
“Your friend Matilda isn’t being as forthcoming as she could be.”
I shot him a quizzical look. “In what way?”
“Come and see.” He motioned to the computer screen.
I scanned the photographs. “This looks like a war zone. What do these have to do with the Wild Hunt?”
“These are the places Matilda mentioned when the two of you were talking. I looked them up. The articles blame everything from climate change to deforestation to localized wars.”
My stomach churned as I continued to scroll. For once I was grateful for Ray’s eavesdropping. No wonder Matilda was concerned about Vortigern amassing more power. He was a threat to civilization as we knew it.
“Do you think your friend caused this level of destruction when she was mistress of the hunt?”
Ray’s question had been circling the drain of my mind, but I’d been too afraid to voice it. It seemed unlikely given her contempt for Vortigern. Besides, Matilda was my friend. I couldn’t see her inflicting this level of damage.
“I wish I’d had these photos at the meeting last night.”
“Didn’t go well?”
I shook my head. “They’re assassins who consider themselves Good Samaritans, but only within the context of their jobs.”
“In other words, the guild isn’t a nonprofit.”
“No, it is not, but Gun and Cam offered to help anyway.”
Ray contemplated the images. “It’s hard to see this and assume it’ll all work out for the best.”
“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”
Ray nodded his approval. “Martin Luther King, Jr.”
“My grandmother was very fond of that quote.”
I opted for a bowl of cereal with almond milk, topped with organic blueberries. Cereal was comfort food that took me back to childhood. Some of my favorite moments were when Pops declared it was a ‘breakfast for dinner’ evening. We’d sit together, crunching our cereal, and share the details of our day. When I was really lucky, he’d tell me a story about my parents, although he mostly avoided talking about them. Now that I knew from the Fates that my parents had been murdered, it was hard to think of those moments with the same fondness. The Fates’ revelation had raised more questions than answers. Had Pops avoided the topic because he was grief-stricken, or because he knew more than he was willing to admit?
After breakfast, I retreated to my bedroom and stared at the ceiling as I mulled over the images on the computer. I couldn’t imagine Matilda causing that level of destruction. It had to be the reason she was so intent on stopping Vortigern. If he was capable of all that without absorbing the power of the white stag… I stopped my train of thought. As my grandmother used to say, “don’t go borrowing trouble.”
Maybe I could persuade Phaedra to craft a spell to track the white stag. Then the team would only need to chase it through the crossroads.
I debated talking to West about the pack’s involvement in herding animals. So far, I’d only told him about the imminent threat so that he could decide whether to pull his guards. Naturally, he’d declined. What if Monica was right and I was overthinking the risk that a wolf would lose control and kill the white stag? This was a creature famous for evading capture. We needed as many volunteers as we could muster.
As I began typing a text message, the ward triggered an uncomfortable sensation—it felt like I had a TENS unit at full strength concentrated at the base of my neck.
I called to Ray, who materialized in the doorway.
