Paige spoke for all of the Skinners when she said, “We ate a late breakfast. Was that just an hour or two ago? I don’t even know.”
“Must be nice being favored by the Dryad. That’s something my people wouldn’t know too much about.”
“Don’t get defensive. It’s something new for us too. Before that we were driving ourselves around in beater cars and sneaking onto airplanes to travel with livestock and shipments of auto parts.”
Somehow, Waggoner had found his way back to the kitchen and back again. “Yeah,” he grunted through a mouthful of what looked like bread. “I’ve heard you guys are the ones with the private jets. How’d you manage that?”
“Old money,” Sophie replied. “Come with me. Let’s talk in more comforting surroundings.”
Her choice of words was more than accurate. Although the chairs weren’t big on padding and the floors creaked beneath their feet, the fireplace crackling in the corner of a large room filled with bookshelves and wooden racks of rifles and shotguns was very comforting indeed.
Paige grinned and approached the fire with her hands outstretched. “Did you say something about tea?”
For a moment, Sophie watched Paige make herself comfortable. After taking deeper stock of the Skinners, she signaled for one of the younger Amriany. “Bring us all some tea.”
“All right,” Cole said. “Real warm in here. Nice place. Real civilized. But we didn’t come all this way for tea.”
“So I’ve heard. I will start by telling you there should have been no reason for those Vitsaruuv to come to that village, and even less reason for them to pace in one spot until we got there. Someone knew we would be there and wanted those things to hit us when we arrived.” There were five Amriany in the room other than Sophie, and they all had their weapons within easy reach. “Before we go any further, you’ll tell us who could have known we would be there.”
“This is your country,” Paige said. “We heard all about it on the ride over. We also heard about why you guys want to keep us so far away from you, so how are we supposed to know about local problems?”
Sophie held up both hands to concede the point. “There’s also the matter of the Jekhibar. It was stolen from us, so I trust you’re here to return it.”
“We didn’t steal it,” Cole pointed out.
One of the other Amriany said something in their own language. Cole couldn’t translate it, but he could read the disgust in that one’s face well enough to get the gist of it.
“We’ve got more than enough going on back home to keep us busy,” he said. “Stealing from you isn’t a priority. At least, it hasn’t been ever since I’ve been around.”
“And were you around when the Blood Blades were brought to your country?”
Suddenly, Cole regretted opening his big mouth. Judging by the looks on Paige’s face, he wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines.
“That’s what I thought,” Sophie said.
“We’ve got the Jekhibar,” Paige told her. “That’s part of why we came. We think we can use the power stored in it to knock the Full Bloods down a few pegs. And not just Esteban, but all the Full Bloods. Even the ones in your neck of the woods.”
Milosh staggered into the room carrying a bottle in one hand and a hunk of bread in the other. “If you think you can loot us for more, then you’re mistaken!”
“Enough!” George said. It was the first thing he’d said since leaving the SUV, and his words appeared to carry plenty of weight among the others. “We’ve already let them know how much we don’t appreciate what Skinners do or have done. They’ve heard it. But they haven’t come all this way just to try and steal from us. They need to speak to a Chokesari.”
Either Milosh wasn’t drinking alcohol or he sobered up very quickly when he heard that. “Why does he need to talk to a metalsmith?”
“Because they’re the ones who make the Blood Blades and they’re the ones who work with the Jekhibar,” Sophie replied.
Paige nodded. “Then that’s who we need to see. When can you set it up?”
The Amriany began speaking among themselves in harsh voices that Cole still couldn’t understand. Sophie calmed them down by striding over to the fireplace and placing her hands on a long sword that looked too pristine to be anything but ceremonial. One hand rested upon a blade adorned with meticulously carved symbols, and the other brushed against a handle fashioned from superbly polished wood. Although the Amriany didn’t fall completely silent, they settled down so she could be heard without having to shout.
“This,” she said reverently, “is how things used to be. When our two peoples were one. Before the maiden voyage to the New World. Before your founders communed with the native tribes in what is now called America. Before the discontent within our ranks became a chasm that would split Amriany from those who would become Skinners, we used to work together to create what was needed to keep the shadows at bay.”
Cole couldn’t take his eyes off the sword on the mantel. There were no thorns in the handle, but the craftsmanship and coloration of the varnish were all too familiar to anyone who wielded a Skinner weapon. Both elements, wood and metal, entwined beautifully to create a weapon unlike anything he’d seen. And considering all he’d seen over the past year or two, that was saying a lot.
“Since we have split,” Sophie continued, taking her hand away from the sword, “both of our peoples have guarded our secrets carefully. There have been infractions on both sides making this not only reasonable, but necessary.” Before anyone could refute that, she squared her shoulders to the room in an unspoken challenge to anyone who might interrupt her. None came. “Because of this, it is no simple matter to just bring a Skinner to see one of our Chokesari. They have been forging our steel for generations and were rare even when the Amriany were not. Without them, there can be no Blood Blades, and if even one metalsmith is lost, their entire craft will be threatened.”
Any Skinner understood as much without needing further explanation. Everything from their fighting methods and recipes for mixing the varnish, which allowed their weapons to bond with its bearer or change shape to their will, was passed along through one Skinner teaching another. The few written records of exactly how to brew Nymar antidote, mix weapon varnish, or carve a weapon itself were sparse and closely guarded. It was a subtle system that made it crucial for Skinners to guard their partners almost as staunchly as they guarded themselves.
“Do you honestly think we came all this way to kill one of your blade forgers?” Paige asked.
Sophie’s eyebrows rose as she coolly regarded her and Cole. “Maybe it’s not something you’d do consciously. But we’ve heard about a group that may fracture your structure just as the Skinners fractured ours all those years ago.”
Straightening into a more defensive posture, Waggoner drew a deep breath to fuel what would surely be a whole lot of unfriendly words.
“Hold it,” Cole said preemptively. “The Vigilant have set themselves up in strongholds around the country. Our country,” he added when he reminded himself of where he was. “They’ve even made a move against the military by breaking me and others out of prison. That’s been on the news! It’s got to be plastered all over official records in police and government agencies all over the place, so it’s not like it’s too hard for someone to piece together enough to know that the Skinners are having some internal conflicts at the moment.”
“Internal conflicts,” Milosh grunted. “I love the American sweet talk.”
“How’s this for sweet talk?” Waggoner snarled. “Up. Yer. Ass.”
Even though that wasn’t as bad as Cole had anticipated, he jumped in before it could be spiced up anymore. “The point is, it’s understandable why these guys might not be so anxious to escort us straight into their hidden base or whatever.”