Shadows and Light

dry. “Can you wake Barry? The old man?”
    Morphia closed her eyes. When she opened them, tears filled them, spilled over. “If I wake him, he’ll suffer.”
    “Then there’s nothing we can do for him?”
    “I don’t know. I sense the suffering beneath the sleep, but that’s all I can tell you. Morag would know, if she were here.”
    And Morag didn‘t answer when I asked. Which may have been an answer after all. “Wake him.
    Just for a minute or two. I’d like him to know his warning was understood.”
    Morphia nodded.
    “Can you wake the ones who are between me and the door? But not the Black Coat,” she added, seeing another male body almost hidden under feathers and fur.
    Morphia nodded again.
    The fox between Ashk’s feet stirred, opened its eyes, snarled at Morphia.
    “No,” Ashk said firmly, giving the animal a nudge with her boot. “Go home now. Go back to the fields and the woods.”
    The fox turned and nimbly leaped for the open door.
    Birds woke, fluffed their feathers, and flew off.
    As soon as Ashk could move without hurting anyone, she dashed out the door and ran to the barn. She heard the harsh breathing, stumbled toward a stall. She fell on her knees beside Barry and took one of his hands in both of hers.
    “L-lady Ashk,” he said. “The Gatherer...”
    “She understood the warning. We didn’t eat the bread.”
    “Good. Good. Didn’t want to bring it. But they said they’d ... they’d...”
    “It’s all right,” Ashk said. “Your family is safe, and they’ll be looked after. And those men will never bring harm to anyone again. This I promise you.”

    Barry’s only answer was a gasp of pain.
    Ashk laid his hand on his chest and walked out of the barn. Then she ran to the cottage, shouting, “
    Morphia!”
    Animals streamed out of the doorway, so she pushed open a window’s shutters, ducked to avoid the crow that flew through the opening, and climbed into the cottage’s main room.
    “He sleeps,” Morphia said softly.
    Ashk sniffed. Brushed tears off her cheeks. When had she started crying?
    Then she looked at the two Inquisitors, and her tears dried up.
    Morphia looked at the women. The mother was tied to a chair. The daughter was on the floor, her skirts pushed up to her thighs.
    “I was looking for the Clan house,” Morphia said. “I saw the cottage, and I heard someone scream.”
    “So you rode in, not knowing what you were up against.”
    Morphia’s dark eyes stared through her, and Ashk thought she understood why Morphia and Morag, the Sleep Sister and the Gatherer, had remained close.
    “I knew what I could do,” Morphia said. “And I knew that I would do it—even if it meant they never woke.”
    Ashk looked pointedly at the women. “Will you wake them, Sleep Sister? Or is there a reason why they should never wake?”
    “I thought it best if there was someone they knew here when they woke.” She gently set the falcon on the floor, then stiffly got to her feet.
    “Let’s get the rest of the animals out of the house,” Ashk said. There were three wolves and the falcon left. One was a real wolf. The other two were Fae. Of the three of them, only the real wolf wasn’t annoyed by the unexpected nap. He just shook himself and trotted away. The other two glared balefully at Morphia until Ashk grabbed them by their scruffs and hauled them out the door.
    Morphia studied the sleeping falcon. “He’s a Fae Lord, isn’t he?”
    “He’s our Clan’s Lord of the Hawks.”
    “He’s not going to be happy.”
    Ashk slanted a glance at Morphia. “I won’t tell him you fondled his feathers if you don’t.”
    Morphia blushed. Ashk liked her because of it.
    “Just wake him up and let him preen his ruffled feathers,” Ashk said.
    Stepping away from the door to give him a clear exit, Morphia obeyed.
    The Fae Lord stared at Morphia for a long moment before flying out the door.
    Well, well, Ashk thought. Maybe he wasn‘t as unaware of being fondled as I’d thought. But she decided not to share that with Morphia just yet.

    They woke Barry’s son. He had a bump on his head but was otherwise unharmed. Looking at the knife beside the Inquisitor’s body, Ashk suspected he would have come to great harm if it hadn’t been for Morphia’s arrival.
    Barry’s wife had bruises. So did the daughter. But there was no blood on the girl’s thighs.
    Another reason to be grateful to Morphia.
    While a couple of her huntsmen led Barry’s family to the barn, others