Trinket (Reverse Harem)

Walking Right Into Danger

Perhon pointed at Korr. "So what would you suggest I do, Ambassador?"

"I suggest you send your two wolves away so that we can speak as... family," Ormiss said.

"We are not sharing certain information," Ethat said barbishly.

"Either we give him some information or we give him no information, there is no inbetween." Ormiss' tone was brittle. "The Lord-Wolf will very quickly turn this around on us, or at least on the Hippocamp. That we are the source for these bugs, since they are clearly coming from the seaside. Or that our transit through the area stirred them up. He will start making demands of Theia. Looking more closely at her. I can't believe I am about to defend the bird, but Soir has compromised himself with his behavior, and the Lord-Wolf would take the opportunity to make himself Lord of Haven. Or force Soir to take one of his she-wolves as Lady of Haven, which is not something we can allow to happen."

"Your choice," Asund told Perhon. "You can either know nothing at all, and this conversation never happened, or you can keep secrets from the pack."

"Brother--" Perhon protested.

Asund shook his head. "No. We speak as family or not at all."

Perhon grimaced. Then he gestured to the two wolves in the corner. They whined protest, but he growled back, and they reluctantly left the room. Asund locked the door behind them and growled at a lurking raven, who cawed about just needing to know something for dinner, and Asund chased him squawking down the hallway.

Ormiss flicked some lightening around the door knobs and door hinges, creating a net of sparking, shocking electricity that would keep any ears off the wood.

"Fine. What is this about?" Perhon demanded of Asund. "I've done what you wanted, brother."

Ormiss shifted his legs, making his skirts swish and his necklaces rustle. "Theia is a shifter, yes?"

"Of some variety. I can't tell what."

"If you ask a human that same question, they tell you she is a human."

Perhon shook his head again. "Do not play with me, horse-fish."

"I'm not. Shifters percieve her as a shifter, humans percieve her as human, and demons--even demon-touched of barely any consequence--are driven mad for her blood. Lord Soir is a SongBird, and he cannot help but Sing for her and he's willing to act like an idiot in front of Haven to court her. So mind yourself in the presence of the Lord-Raven."

"He's a SongBird?" Perhon asked, going a little paler.

"That's the rumor, and we have every reason to suspect it's true," Korr said. Ethat growled.

"I didn't even think those actually existed," Perhon said.

"They do, but the Ravens won't tell you what a SongBird actually is or what they do, and SongBirds, as far as the dragons know, don't actually ever live as non-SongBrids. Or in public." Korr added that last one.

"So... what are you?" Perhon asked me, reclining against the couch and deeply troubled.

"A shifter with a broken magical spine," Itek said. "She has no urge to shift, no need to shift, nothing. Her magical spine has been broken. And no, we do not know what, who, or how. We're working on that part. But we haven't told anyone else that she appears to be glamoured."

"Who could do a glamor like that?"

"The God of Barren Branches, we suspect," Korr said.

Perhon grimaced, obviously digging through the recesses of his memory.