A steady stream of people had sought Magda out since that day in the council session, asking her to help them with swearing the oath to Lord Rahl in order to protect themselves against the dream walkers. She had met with hundreds of people who had heard about what she said before the council that day and who were afraid of the dream walkers. With good reason.

While the council had not forbidden such an oath—after all, D’Hara was part of the New World and on the same side in the war—they privately chafed at people giving a devotion to Lord Rahl. Their official position was that while dream walkers were indeed real and presented a danger, the enemy was not yet advanced enough to put such a weapon into use, so while the threat was genuine, it was distant in the future.

Other than the attack against herself, Magda could provide no proof otherwise. But many people didn’t want to take the chance and learn too late that the council was wrong.

“I had been expecting to see you sooner,” Magda said when they were all seated.

“The war grows more desperate by the day,” Elder Cadell said without looking up as he lifted one paper after another from the table before him, glancing over each briefly before setting it aside and going on to the next. “We have been trying to keep from losing the effort.”

Councilman Sadler only briefly glanced her way between selecting specific papers from his own stack and handing them to the elder. Some of the other men were not interested in the papers. They were glaring at her.

“Of course,” Magda said, dipping her head respectfully. With the elder continuing to look through papers, and several of the others staring at her, she felt compelled to say something. “Have you found the . . . person responsible for Isidore’s murder?”

Elder Cadell looked up from under bushy brows. “Some people seem to think that you are responsible.”

“Me?” Magda felt her face flush. “And have these people managed to explain how I could rip a person apart like that with my bare hands?”

The elder grunted before returning his attention to a paper that Sadler handed to him.

“That’s true,” Councilman Clay said. “She isn’t gifted, after all.”

“She had a knife,” Councilman Guymer reminded him. “A bloody knife.”

“Isidore’s skull was torn in half,” Magda said. “An axe could do such damage, but not a mere knife, especially not one wielded by me.”

“I didn’t say that we believed you are responsible,” Elder Cadell intoned. He looked up and lifted an eyebrow. “I said some people think you are.”

Magda didn’t know what he was getting at.

“People often believe a lot of things that aren’t true,” she said. “I wish I had a way to reveal the truth for you, but I don’t.”