Chapter One

AILEEN WAS UNSURPRISED to find the Tappin’s Inn taproom mostly empty.

In an hour or so, a mix of locals and travelers would fill every table as they heartily dug into their noon meal.

 For now, though, only a handful of people were scattered around the large room in the mid-morning lull.

Which made spotting the innkeeper an easy task.

Ensconced at a table by the cozily glowing fire, Tappin entertained a couple of his customers with his usual boisterous style.

Out of habit, Aileen sized up the two men he sat with, both for potential threats and  potential profit.

One boasted bright auburn hair, green eyes, fair skin, and a manner that was almost as animated as the innkeeper. Beside him, his companion’s brown hair, brown eyes, and silent stillness should have made the man nondescript, if not for the sheer size of him. Even seated, it was obvious he’d tower over everyone else in the room. Probably everyone in the town, as well.

But the clothes were what truly told her everything she needed to know.

Both men wore a mishmash of styles from Obelarr, Ardell, Glicien, and beyond. The kind of clothing that was cut so as not to impede movement. That showed off the wide, strong muscles of back and arms.

Clearly, the men were well-traveled and used to taking care of themselves.

Most likely mercenaries. Or worse.

Which meant they were dangerous. And unlikely to be interested in either the fruits of her morning hunt or the unique services of her great aunt’s shop.

Assessment made, Aileen settled in to wait. When Tappin was in a talkative mood there was no telling how long he’d keep rambling.

Propping one foot against the wall, she crossed her arms and leaned back, relaxed but ready for anything.

Trouble was rare, but Highcross was a border town. One never knew when a ruckus might erupt. She’d learned to be cautious at a young age. Life as a professional hunter had only honed both patience and vigilance.

If she’d been in a hurry, Aileen might have considered taking her business down the street to one of the other taverns.

But Tappin was always willing to pay a premium for fresh game.

And Aileen’s family needed all the money she could earn right now.

So she’d wait.

And listen.

Because a taproom was always a good source of gossip.

And gossip was the life’s blood of Aunt Liesl’s spiritualist business. Which, in turn, was the main source of their family’s income.

Keeping half an ear on the men by the fire, Aileen turned her attention to the handful of others in the room. A couple of merchants on trading missions complaining about the weather and a few locals in for an early pint gossiping about the whereabouts of the princess. She dismissed both groups out of hand.

She did, however, note a dour-looking older woman accompanied by an exasperated younger man who was obviously her son. One or both might be interested in what Liesl had to say.

“…Of course, now that your lot is rubbing elbows with royalty, I’m surprised you decided to rough it here with us!” Tappin laughed exuberantly at his own joke, but it was his words that snared Aileen’s attention.

Her focus riveted once more on the men he sat with.

This time she looked below the surface. Their clothing was speckled with road dust and somewhat plain and serviceable in style, but the fabric and workmanship was definitely finer quality. Both men wore thick, leather riding boots she recognized as handcrafted and expensive. There was nothing flashy or ostentatious but everything they wore spoke of skilled artisans.

Perhaps she’d dismissed their potential profitability too quickly.

“I’d think you’d be more at home in places like Ardell and Obelarr City now,” the innkeeper continued his teasing. The two men with him, however, tensed slightly and exchanged a quick glance.

The movement was almost imperceptible. Probably no one else in the room even noticed. But Liesl had taught Aileen and her sister to spot the smallest change in a customer. Often, the most value could be uncovered from the things people went to the most effort to conceal.

Aileen wasn’t nearly as good at focusing as Caitlyn, but when the man with auburn hair leaned back in his chair, Aileen took note of the hint of strain around his eyes. And the way the casualness in Red’s words seemed just a little too forced when he answered.

“Actually, Doane and I are looking for something… Something lost.”

Red’s momentary hesitation was all the confirmation Aileen needed to know that, whatever they were searching for, it was important to them. The kind of important they didn’t want anyone else to catch on to.

“You think this important thing is in Highcross?” Tappin asked.

“No, no,” Red insisted with a laugh. “We just don’t know where to start looking.”

He leaned forward conspiratorially, dropping his voice enough that Aileen had to strain to hear it. “Years ago, I spoke to a woman with the sight here in town. She helped me find something I desperately needed back then. I was wondering if she might be still around?”

“There are two such women in Highcross…”

A spike of anticipation and desperation swelled up in Aileen. She couldn’t let the innkeeper send the men to Selene.

Impetuously, Aileen shoved away from the wall.

“Tappin, I’m sorry to interrupt, but if I can have a moment of your time?”

All three men turned to look her way, and she had to swallow back against the sudden unease. Calling attention to herself was probably not the best tactic she could have chosen. But it was too late now.

She’d just brazen her way through.

Forcing a facade of impatience into her expression and her stride, she hoped it was enough to cover her nerves.

“Aileen, of course,” Tappin agreed happily, rising to greet her, and the other two followed suit. “I always have time for my favorite huntress. Please allow me to introduce you to some old friends. Doane,” the tall, quiet man dipped his head, “and Rory.”

In spite of herself, Aileen found her gaze tangled up with Rory’s. For a moment, they stayed locked together. Then, she realized he was evaluating her. The way she’d been sizing him up a moment before.

Them.

The way she’d been sizing them up, she silently corrected herself.

Aileen felt completely off-kilter, but no one else seemed to notice as Tappin continued the introductions.

“And this is Aileen. The finest hunter in Highcross. What bounty from the forest have you got for us today?”

“A deer and three fat rabbits,” she answered automatically. She kept her eyes focused on Tappin, but her awareness of Rory prickled along the edges. Feeling strangely exposed and transparent, Aileen forced a smile and, eager to find an escape, added, “Come outside and let me show you.”

She started for the kitchen before the innkeeper even answered, trusting he’d follow her out. Once outside, Aileen took a deep breath, and a flush of embarrassment crept in at the way she’d overreacted.

Despite Liesl’s and Caitlyn’s best attempts, subterfuge had never come naturally to Aileen. She didn’t think she’d botched the attempt too badly, however. Tappin didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Hopefully, the men inside hadn’t either.

“Lovely,” the innkeeper announced once he inspected what she had brought him. “My wife has been hoping for some good venison to serve the guests. Only if the price is right, of course.”

Normally, Aileen enjoyed the haggling nearly as much as the hunt. Just another way to outmaneuver a quarry.

But Rory and his companion might offer an even bigger payout.

Aileen’s morning hunt would bring much-needed coins today.

For someone as skilled and persuasive as her great aunt, though, men such as Tappin’s old friends had the potential to pay dividends year after year.

“Perhaps we could make a deal that would benefit us both,” she suggested with a sly smile.

“I’m listening,” Tappin offered with a tinge of curiosity and amusement.

“The men you were speaking with, I couldn’t help overhearing them ask about wise women with the sight. If you send them along to Liesl’s shop, I’ll sell you the deer for the usual rate and throw in the rabbits for free.”

The innkeeper cocked his head, considering for a moment. Then he smiled and stuck out his hand.

Once they shook on it, Aileen bit her lip thoughtfully.

“Could you stall them for a little while, though? Maybe send them the long way around? It’s Liesl’s gardening day, and we’ll need some time to get her and the shop ready for clients.”

“Not a problem,” he agreed.

As soon as Tappin stepped back into the inn, Aileen slipped back into the forest. The trees were as much a home for her as the winding city streets. And she knew every short-cut inside and outside the bounds of Highcross. Today, the shortest way home was to cut a straight line through the woods.

***

Before the woman even stepped into the taproom, Rory’s wolf-shifter enhanced senses caught the faint scent of fresh animal blood.

And, while keeping most of his awareness on the conversation with Tappin, he instinctively took note of the source when she slipped into the room.

One predator taking the measure of another in his vicinity.

The deep green hooded coat and leather breaches immediately marked her as a hunter. Which explained the scent that first drew his attention.

She was a predator, but not the kind that should concern him.

Yet, instead of dismissing her presence to the recesses of his awareness, he continued to take in details. The way the jet-black braid of hair swung heavily down her back. The way she moved with economy and grace that suggested a great deal of underlying strength. The sweet-spicy scent overlaying leather and blood and wool. The way her golden hazel eyes paused on their table, making their own assessment before moving on to sweep the room. The way she settled in, both relaxed and alert.

Confident, calm, and capable.

As intriguing as the woman was, though, Rory had a mission. His quest was much more important than the curiosity she sparked in him.

Reluctantly, he forced himself to refocus his full attention on getting the information he needed from Tappin.

Rory successfully ignored her presence until her heart rate unexpectedly sped up, setting off an instinctive warning. His muscles tensed in readiness and his senses stretched out, searching for whatever had disturbed her. Beside him, he felt the minute shift as Doane’s hand slipped closer to the hilt of the sword on his hip.

But when she kicked away from the wall, the woman headed straight for their table looking purposeful and impatient.

Once again, Rory couldn’t tear his attention away. Only, this time, he didn’t have to watch from the corner of his eye.

He half-listened to Tappin’s introduction as he stood to greet. Heard enough to catch her name. Aileen. And to confirm his hunch that she was a hunter by trade.

Because, when her eyes met his, he found himself lost for several seconds.

Until he realized he could still hear her heart. And it was still racing for no reason he could discern.

Before he could figure out what caused her sudden surge of restlessness, however, she guided Tappin outside.

Rory shamelessly tried to eavesdrop, but the murmur of conversation in the taproom combined with the distance made it impossible to catch more than the occasional indistinct word.

Disappointed, he turned his attention back to Doane with a sigh of disappointment.

“Maybe she wants to get back to hunting,” Doane suggested. As always, getting to the heart of the manner without preamble.

Rory hated to think his speculation had been so obvious, but there was little doubt he had been.

“Doesn’t really matter. Whatever she’s up to, we have more important things to do than figure out what one possibly suspicious huntress is planning.”

Doane’s only answer was a sharp, short nod. Not that Rory expected anything else. In all the years they’d known each other, Doane had always preferred to use the fewest words possible.

It was just that Rory was used to having at least some of his pack around to pick up the slack in conversation.

Rory had thought, after helping the royal families of Ardell and Glicien stop the Grey Enchantress’s evil schemes, they might get a break from the intrigue and danger for a little while.

The cleanup after Velia’s attempted coup, however, ended any hope of returning to normal.

A tangled mess of dark secrets, corrupt intrigue, and vicious schemes had been revealed in the chaos she left behind.

Most notably, they’d discovered the ancient magic matrix that had given Rory and his friends the ability to shift into wolf form wasn’t the only one of its kind.

The Old Ones had left three other mirror-like matrices behind. And legend warned of the possibility those ancient artifacts had been used to control the minds and actions of some shifters.

Making them a clear threat to the pack. To the people who were Rory’s only family.

“One’s gone,” Doane reminded him, easily reading Rory’s darkening thoughts without a word having been spoken.

“I know,” Rory answered, smiling ruefully.

Sterling, the unofficial leader of their little pack, had stumbled on the Crystal Mirror, one of the Old One’s lost matrices. As well as the creepy Mirror King, who used it to terrorize the residents of Mount Acaelum.

In the process, Sterling had met the love of his life. Together, they’d destroyed the matrix and brought down part of the mountain on the Mirror King and his lair.

On a different trek, Rory and Doane had accompanied one the Glicien princesses to a remote ruin in search of another of the artifacts. The matrix that had once hung there was long gone. But they had discovered something nearly as important.

The possibility that the matrices might once have been paired with similarly elusive prophecy stones. Since they had no clue where to find the two missing matrices, locating one of the stones might be their best chance at a lead.

And Rory knew exactly where to find one.

Which was why they were in Highcross.

Because a young Rory had once been desperate enough to seek answers in the most unlikely of places.

The wise woman he’d met in Highcross kind. In his naivety, she had seemed all-knowing. Her words had set him on the path that led him back to his pack. His family.

She’d never touched the strangely shaped golden sphere sitting on the table. And he’d never asked about it.

Then, in an abandoned temple, they’d discovered a shimmering silvery ball made up of dozens of hexagons. He’d immediately thought of that long-ago encounter. And Rory had known he needed to track down the wise woman again. Her strange curio was the only clue they’d found that might lead to another of the dangerous mirrors.

He could only hope it wasn’t another dead end.

Tappin’s return was a welcome distraction from his gloomy thoughts.

“Excellent news, gentlemen,” Tappin announced with a clap when he drew near their table. “We’ll be serving my wife’s famous venison stew this evening. You are in for a treat.”

“I can’t wait,” Rory declared heartily, mouth watering at just the thought of it. 

Once the innkeeper settled into his chair again, Rory leaned forward eager to get back their interrupted conversation.

“You were about to tell us about the wise women in town?”

“Ah, yes, of course. There are two here in Highcross. Both well respected, but Liesl is more established and experienced.”

“I’m looking for one in particular. I consulted with her several years ago. I don’t remember her name, but I distinctly remember the oracle ball she kept on the table.”

Tappin’s brow pulled into a frown. “Liesl’s been here that long. And Selene took over from her mother two years back. Neither uses a ball as far as I know.” He paused, looking hesitant. “But Selene and her mother were both known for cards. Liesl offers more variety. She reads cards and tea leaves. Uses pendulum and runes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had an oracle ball as well. Yes, Liesl is definitely your best bet.”

Tappin’s scent changed slightly when he started singing Liesl’s praises. Not a lie, exactly. But not the truth, either.

Rory exchanged amused glances with Doane. Most likely, Tappin had some kind of arrangement with this particular spiritualist. Every innkeeper in every town had similar arrangements with their favored merchants, whether it be tailors or blacksmiths. Why would wise women be any different?

“How do we find this Liesl, then?” Rory asked.

“Oh, she’s got a lovely shop on Rose Lane…” Tappin proceeded to rattle off a set of long and complicated directions.

“And how do I find the other spiritualist?” Rory asked when Tappin finished.

Tappin frowned, no doubt worried about his cut from the referral, and Rory quickly added, “Just in case this Liesl can’t give me what I need, of course.”

With both sets of directions in hand, Rory waited until Tappin was called away by another patron before he turned to Doane.

“You caught that, right? He was definitely steering us toward Liesl? Or away from Selene?”

Doane hummed thoughtfully in response.

They’d been through Highcross, and Tappin’s Inn, enough that Rory wasn’t worried about the innkeeper leading them into a trap.

Without understanding the importance of their mission, though, he also knew Tappin would choose his own bottom line. Especially when it came to something as seemingly insignificant as the difference between one spiritualist and another.

But their task was too important to leave any stone unturned.

“I’ll go see Selene,” Doane murmured with resignation, once again reading Rory’s mind.