Whisper (Book II)

Chapter Twelve

The grounds were starting to fill with stalls and stands, and as Ulric wandered through them he took stock. Most were standard festival tents, housing bakers or craftsmen or musicians. Some had the warm hum of magic around them, and though magic was expressly forbidden in the human kingdoms Ulric knew that these creatures would pass as fire dancers and performers. They blended into human company easily, and were usually only first or second degree Shifters, if not something far less potent still.

Ulric would have envied them before he'd gotten rid of his beast problem. Now, though, he felt a great amount of kinship with them. Both were playing as wolves in sheep's clothing.

The tent he was looking for was halfway down a path leading toward the southern gate. It was small and dingy and slouched to one side, but magic buzzed around it powerfully. He'd known the moment that the shifter entered the gates, and he worried that whoever the creature was would blow his cover, and put them all in danger.

"Hey." He hissed at the entrance to the tent, and someone inside stirred. "Hey, we need to talk."

"Go away." The resident said, and Ulric huffed.

"Listen, I know what you are, and we need to talk."

Groaning, a figure emerged, scowling and hugging herself against the chill. Her skin was the dark of the deep south, and her eyes were almost black, piercing and inhuman. She was pretty, he thought, but she was also glowering at him.

"What do you want?" She demanded.

"Who are you?"

"This couldn't wait until morning?"

"Shifters have been exiled, you know. They'll kill you."

"You're here."

"On business."

"Right. So am I." She gestured at the tent. "Everyone here is."

He glared. "War related business."

"You people and your war. Do me a favor, leave me out of it."

"Leave you--" He blanched, "This isn't a joke! They'll kill you."

"Sure, if they find out. But they won't."

"How do you know?"

"Listen, I've done this a hundred times. I'm just here to sell my wares. Humans pay better than Shifters. I won't draw any attention to myself, and I won't mention this conversation. Ever. In fact, I'm already trying to forget it happened. Now go away."

"You're of the ninth degree."

She snorted. "I've noticed. Go away."

"You're of the ninth degree, and you're pedaling wares at a human festival."

"Wow. Very perceptive." She rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Some idiot woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me what I was. That's what's wrong with me."

Before he could answer she ducked into her tent, leaving him staring dumbly at the place she'd stood. He couldn't say for sure what he'd expected, but it certainly wasn't that.

Slowly, he turned away, walking back toward the castle. All day he'd been preparing himself to confront the powerful Shifter, but that wasn't even remotely what he'd prepared for. A Shifter of that Calibre was considered nobility, and should have enough wealth to live well without having to sell anything--especially to humans. All he could do was hope now that she wasn't selling anything magical or dangerous. Of course, if she was he couldn't do anything about it without blowing his cover.