Copper Ravens(27)

Despite his lack of regular appearances, every living soul in that village was well aware of Micah’s status as their lord, both by name and by sight. What’s more, each and every one of his subjects positively adored him, and as soon as we’d passed through the liquid silver gates, Lord Silverstrand was surrounded by a good-sized mob of well-wishers. Content to be overlooked, for once, I stepped back and gave his fan club a wide berth.

“You just let them attack me,” Micah grumbled once he extricated himself.

“It was a loving attack,” I said as I took his arm. I noticed that two exceptionally beautiful women were waving goodbye to their lord, gazing after him with something akin to unrequited love. Before I could muster the proper outrage, and to my utter amazement, both of the women morphed into exact copies of Micah, right down to his leather clothes and poufy hair.

“They are shapeshifters,” Micah explained, once I’d gotten my jaw off the ground.

“Like werewolves?”

Micah laughed. “Not at all. Lycanthropy is a strictly human affliction. True shapeshifters can take on the appearance of any being they gaze upon.”

“So, they’re just going to wander around the village, pretending to be you?” Call me old-fashioned, but wasn’t that identity theft?

“No shapeshifter may hold a false shape for much longer than a day; what’s more, a shapeshifter cannot replicate an Elemental’s mark. And a great crowd watched them shift, while I walked away with my lovely consort.” He leaned closer and kissed my hair. “Fear not, they will do nothing to tarnish my good name. I can manage that quite well on my own.”

“How? By hopping into sleeping women’s cars?” I teased.

“Yes,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Exactly like that.”

I leaned against his shoulder and let my dishonorable man lead me through the intricate maze of streets and alleys. I realized that, while the good and, um, less good sides of the village were clearly separated at the gate, the lines blurred the further we descended into the warren. I saw a prime example of these shades of gray at a tailor’s shop, which was presided over by a plump gentleman wearing a smart green waistcoat and holding a pocket watch. He was so jovial he could have modeled for holiday cards. I don’t know precisely what the shop next door to the tailor’s traded in, but several species of animal, both furred and feathered, hung upside down in the front window, their blood draining into a carved trough below. Before my eyes, the tailor whipped out a silver dipper and scooped up a healthy swig of blood.

“How do you know who the good people are?” I murmured, clutching Micah’s arm as my eyes searched for a safer scene. I settled on a woman, who was reaching up to pick a shiny red fruit from a low-hanging branch. It turned out that the tree didn’t care to be robbed and struck her with a leafy limb.

“Good?” Micah asked. “Good in what way?”

“You know. Who are the good guys, and who are the bad guys?”

“Ah. I forget, you humans like to make such simple distinctions.” Micah hugged me closer and kissed my hair. To our left, the tree screamed as the fruit thief struck its trunk with a heavy satchel, sending chunks of bark scattering across the street.

“They are all my people,” he continued, gesturing to encompass the whole of the Whispering Dell, both the village and the valley beyond. “That means that I accept them, all of them, for their good attributes as well as their flaws. After all, even the best of men may occasionally commit a less than honorable act.”

“Like Max?”

Micah’s eyes darkened. “Yes, much like your foolish brother. For all his flaws—of which there are many—his intentions are sound.”

“But what about those who really are dishonorable?” I pressed, raising my voice above the fruit thief’s shrieks; the tree had grabbed her by the hair and was demanding that its property be returned. Must be some apple. “You know, like the ones who are really evil? You don’t keep them around, do you?”

“Those who are truly beyond the pale I banish, but I’ve not been called on to do that in a long, long time.” Micah took a long look up and down the street, blood-drinking tailor and murderous tree included, and smiled. “Yes, my people are good to me, and I, in turn, am good to them.”

Micah fell silent then, and I was left contemplating the many shades of gray present in the Otherworld. I remembered Ferra’s court, stuffed full with some of the scariest creatures I’d ever seen in the flesh. Now, that court had been evil, beginning right at the front door that had looked suspiciously like a gaping maw. Ready to have swallowed me whole and gnaw me to bits.