Shadow hound colors, Ashk thought suddenly, studying the gray clothing and the black hair carelessly tied back with a ribbon. And the dark and light of the moon. Perhaps the Huntress was right after all in her choice of garb, since she would usually partake in a very different kind of hunt.

Then something shivered through her. She turned away from the house and walked toward the grass and trees that formed a park on one side of the house.

“Ashk?” Selena said again.

She raised her hand to acknowledge that she’d heard and kept walking until she reached a big shade tree. She paused there and rested her palm against the tree. Now that she was away from human things and human noises, her senses sharpened, her gift flooded her with messages.

Something wrong nearby. Something unnatural. Something that doesn’t belong in the woods.

She swore silently. She’d hoped they’d cleared out all the nighthunters when they’d found that nest, but there were more of them out there. But this shiver beneath the land’s skin hadn’t been there since they’d cleaned out the nest. Had the Black Coats marching toward them created more of the creatures and managed to capture and transport them somewhere close by? Was that what Aiden had heard in the field last night? From the information she’d gotten from the Inquisitors who had been captured at Bretonwood, the magic they drew from an Old Place and twisted struck randomly when it was released, and its manifestation could range from a good well suddenly going dry to small creatures in the woods being changed into nighthunters. They simply unleashed that magic with no way to control it. But what if one of them had learned to contain that power while twisting it so that it flooded a particular place?

A hint of sound made her look up just as something small and black floated down from the branches above her head. She caught the feather, then studied the crow that was preening itself while watching her. Just a crow. And yet…

She watched the crows drift across the small clearing. One took flight, flying so low she could have reached up and touched it. Then another followed. Then a handful. Finally the rest of the rook flew over the clearing to the trees on the other side.

“Seeing them reminds me of something I’ve wondered about,” she said.

Morag’s attention remained focused on the crows. Eventually she relaxed and looked at Ashk. “What have you wondered about?”

“All the Fae who are Death’s Servants are crows or ravens in their other form. They aren’t the only Fae who have that form, but I don’t recall one of Death’s Servants who wasn’t one or the other. Why is that?”

Morag looked at her a long time before saying softly, “Perhaps it’s because crows and ravens are Death’s servants, too.”