Breanna felt a pang of regret when she saw the way Falco hurried through the kitchen without saying anything to her. She felt puzzled confusion when he returned with three blankets. He gave one to Donovan, another to Clay, and wrapped the third one around her, his hands resting on her shoulders for a moment in a way that was as comforting as Liam’s arm had been.

“Now,” Nuala said quietly. “What was the message?”

Breanna looked at Gwenn, who nodded to indicate Breanna should go first. “Something definitely changed. Something that, I think, preceded the storm. Something that will change things for all of us—witches, humans, the Small Folk.”

“The Fae, too?” Falco asked quietly.

Breanna thought about the feel of the wind and nodded. “Yes, the Fae, too. But I can’t tell you more than that.”

“I can,” Gwenn said. She shivered. “I told you I’d studied in the Mother’s Hills a few years ago and met some of the other witches who were being trained by the Crones. I think…I think this was Selena. It’s hard to tell. There’s been so many who have touched that storm, but at the core of it, I think it was Selena. Her power had a different feel to it because”—She hesitated, then looked at Falco—“Because Selena is a very powerful witch, but she’s also Fae.”

Breanna felt Falco’s hand come down on her shoulder, but she didn’t think it was meant as comfort to her as much as for the support he needed at that moment.

“What does that have to do with the storm?” he asked in a strained voice.

Gwenn kept looking at him, and there was something close to pity in her eyes. “I think someone was foolish enough to provoke Selena into striking back—and the storm was her answer.”

Chapter 12

waxing moon

Adolfo stared out the window, watching the storm continue east into Wolfram. Not much of a storm now—and still too much. Far too much.

He shuddered.

“Master?”

Adolfo turned away from the window. Ubel had been reporting on the number and position of the men marching toward the western border under the family crests of Wolfram’s barons, the fleet of warships standing ready in the harbor, the messages sent by the Arktos barons to confirm their readiness to wage righteous war against the Sylvalan barons who couldn’t see with a clear eye what honorable, decent men needed to do to cleanse their land.