Mists of Velvet

can see you’ve never been wed, or wooed,” he said with a chuckle, “for you would know that weeks are not nearly long enough when spent with a lover.”
    The queen stiffened and glanced away. “My handmaiden has told me it is time for the nine to arise and begin the hunt. Dark magick is sweeping across Annwyn. We cannot delay.”
    “Let me speak with her,” the king demanded.
    “Impossible,” Cailleach scoffed. “She has taken a vow of silence. She has not spoken a word since she was a child.”
    That vow had been for her own protection. Visions constantly flooded her, and Bronwnn could never be certain her secrets would not come spilling out along with her visions. There were things about her that the goddess didn’t know. Things that could get her banished from the order. She shuddered to think of what could happen—something much worse than being segregated from the others; that was for certain.
    “Well, isn’t that convenient?” Suddenly the king’s gaze darted to the screen, and she froze. He saw her. He had pinned her with his mismatched eyes, and she was caught.
    Preparing herself for Cailleach’s wrath, Bronwnn held her breath. The tirade never came. Cailleach was still sitting on her throne, and the king’s attention was still focused on where Bronwnn was hiding. There was a warning in his gaze and a message in his eyes. She knew then she must stay, and he would speak with her after his meeting with Cailleach had ended.
    Suddenly, his gaze left her, only to be pinned on Cailleach. “I sense that this handmaiden is not entirely what she appears to be.”
    “Bronwnn would never dare cross me. She knows the price of betrayal.”
    “Fear does not instill loyalty, Cailleach. Trust is earned and freely given.”
    Cailleach’s expression turned mutinous. “You dare presume you know of our ways? You are a Sidhe. Sidhe know only how to fight and mate.”
    The king glared at Cailleach. “Speak carefully, Cailleach, for it is very early in our truce. I am not above severing it.”
    Cailleach’s pale green eyes turned a frosty shade. “Our truce is for the benefit of Annwyn, not each other. I will speak as I find fit. Now, then, the symbol you showed me, the one painted on the wall in the mortal realm—when I showed it to Bronwnn, she was able to see that only one magician is performing these rituals. He invokes Gwyn, our god of death and ruler of the Shadowlands, as well as the Dark Angel of the mortals’ religion. Two separate deities, but one man.”
    “So Suriel was correct. He told me the mark referred to an angel named Uriel.”
    The Supreme Goddess actually shivered at the name, but she recovered almost immediately. “Now we know we hunt one man—for now. He is either an angel or a mortal with extensive knowledge of both angelic and Druidic lore. An occultist, a practitioner of the most dangerous of the Dark Arts.”
    “And did she tell you what this man looked like?”
    “She writes the word ‘chameleon,’ over and over again. Do you know what it means?”
    “It is an animal that exists in the mortal realm. It resembles a small dragon, except this animal is able to change its appearance to blend in with its surroundings. It’s a protective ability.”
    “So it seems our enemy is able to change his appearance. That will make it very difficult to discover his identity.”
    Bronwnn had not known what it meant. She had only heard the word, time and again. It had been said with such pride and gloating. And now she knew that the evil she saw in her visions was always changing; it was always one step ahead of them.
    “It is time, Raven. Name your nine, if you please.”
    The king’s gaze volleyed back to Bronwnn’s hiding spot, assuring her he was not done with the topic. “Very well. I’ve given the matter great thought. I know the nine.”
    “And?” Cailleach asked impatiently.
    “Mairi.”
    “She’s a mortal!” the queen spat.
    “You will recall she has an incredible power—the one to heal me and those I care about,” he growled. “I will not undertake anything if Mairi is not at my side. Even you in your blind hatred of mortals can see how beneficial Mairi’s power is to our cause.”
    Grudgingly, Cailleach acknowledged the fact. Waving her hand impatiently, she muttered, “Go on.”
    “Carden, of course.”
    “An excellent choice, if you could find him.”
    “I will find him.” The king narrowed his gaze. “Can your seer not aid us?”
    “I haven’t