“First what?” Widget asked.
“Hush!” Law cried. If they detoured Bare Snow with questions, they’d never get to the end. The damage, though, had been done.
“Otter Dance’s mother had been Perfection of the Wind Clan and her father Tempered Steel of the Stone Clan.” Bare Snow clasped her hands over her heart and sighed. “Their love is epic. To know in a glance and word that this person shares your spirit.” Another heartfelt sigh. “Their daughter, Otter Dance, spent equal time between them, first at High Meadow Temple and then Cold Mountain. She and Longwind were childhood sweethearts. He thought his lot was like many young elves, to be unimportant in the grand sweep of things. His elders never growing old; his time never coming. He let his heart lead him to take Otter Dance as First despite the fact that her father had been Stone Clan. It was his willingness to look beyond bloodlines which made the sekasha choose him as Clan Head. Pure Radiance had stated that the only way our future could be secured was by close alliance between the clans. Ashfall’s first act as king was to call together the heads of the clans and offer up his children as royal hostages, disguised as unions of alliance.”
“Eww!” Usagi cried out in disgust at the idea of using children as tools.
Law was losing track of who was who. “Longwind is the viceroy’s father?”
“Yes. He took King Ashfall’s daughter, Flame Heart, as his domi.” Again with the hand clasped over the chest and the deep, heartfelt sigh. “It was love on first sight. They had ten children! Can you believe it? Most people don’t even have one! The viceroy is the youngest and the only one that can use both esva. He was given a very blessed name of Wolf Who Rules, foreseeing that he would hold all of the Westernlands.”
Law thought the whole naming scheme was a load of crap if it cursed one baby and blessed another. “I still don’t see how this relates to someone trying to kill him.”
“The sekasha see truth like a coin; either something is true or it is a lie. Heads or tails. They do not realize that truth is like an onion—it has layers upon layers. Because of that, they can be blinded to a rotten core by an unblemished shell.”
Widget started to say something about an onion not having a shell and Law smacked her.
“Stay on target,” Law growled. “Who is trying to kill the viceroy?”
“When Howling was assassinated, the sekasha were furious that someone had gone against their decree of a truce while they were gathered at Burning Mountain. The question was: who?”
Law attempted to jump forward in time because she knew that Windwolf was several hundred years old. If Bare Snow was retelling how his parents met, she could be talking all night. She guessed at how the assassination of his grandfather related to events in Pittsburgh. “The same people that killed Howling are going to try to kill Windwolf?”
“Yes!” Bare Snow cried with delight.
“So—” Law tried to backtrack through the long story. If Bare Snow had named a suspect, Law lost hold of the detail in the flood of information. “Who killed Howling?”
“This is where the onion starts to peel. Rumors surfaced that a warlord by the name of Tornado might have used a Wind Clan household of trained assassins as a bid for clan head. The sekasha easily found evidence that he’d hired them. Tornado’s sekasha executed him and put a warrant out on the Wind Clan assassins who had fled into hiding. They were hunted down and killed, one by one.”
“But he was actually framed?” Law asked.
“Framed?” Bare Snow tilted her head in confusion.
Law winced. The word apparently only meant “surrounded with wood” in Elvish. “The evidence was false.”
“In a manner of speaking. Someone lied to a laedin-caste male. After the laedin had passed on the lie as truth, he was killed so it seemed as if he was murdered to silence him. This is the rotten core: the assassins were told that under no conditions would Howling ever bow to a king put in place by the sekasha. If another clan head was raised up above him, Howling supposedly planned to kill all the Holy Ones in one massive attack. As domana, Howling had the power to do so. The sekasha’s protective shields cannot protect them from the full brunt of a domana offensive spell. Howling would become what we fought a thousand years to wipe off the face of the planet. No sane person would allow him to go unchecked. That lie, however, was then wrapped in truths. We were in the middle of a war. The assassins could not kill Howling without someone prepared to step cleanly into the void. They chose Tornado to be his successor and then planted the seeds of ambition. He was a proud elf; it was required to make Tornado believe it was his idea. Thus, when the sekasha sought evidence of Tornado’s crime, they found it. It was true. At least, at the surface.”
Law packed the boxes she’d built and tried to understand Bare Snow’s logic. The Wind Clan assassins had killed Howling but they’d been tricked into doing it. While they fled into hiding as wanted criminals, the mastermind remained in place.
Bare Snow’s mother had been alone on a deserted island when her parents met.
And her mother had been killed when she returned to Winter Court.
This wasn’t some epic story of legendary figures; it was the story of Bare Snow’s family and how they were connected with the viceroy. Elves don’t lie; at least the honorable ones didn’t. If it had been an utterly random Water Clan female behind the white door in Fairywood, she could honestly proclaim her innocence, and most likely be believed. Bare Snow had been sent halfway around the world to be in Pittsburgh for this Shutdown. Her cursed Wind Clan name and her Water Clan appearance would lead to questions about her parents. Once her mother’s identity was known, Bare Snow’s very presence would be damning. It would seem as if she was taking vengeance for her mother’s household.
Her family had taken the fall once for the real killer. Obviously someone hoped that it would work again. Considering everything, yes, the trap’s intended victim most likely was Howling’s grandson.
Law glanced at the kitchen clock. If they left now, they could get to the Rim and warn the viceroy before the border was closed. They only had a few hours left; Pittsburgh was returning to Earth at midnight. All the elves—and only the elves—remained on Elfhome during Shutdown.
But what would she tell Windwolf? If the assassins had known who had set them up, they would have exacted revenge.
Think, Law, don’t just react. That’s how you get yourself shit deep into messes.
This was world-level politics, hundreds of years, if not thousands, in the making. She was just a forager, fishing and hunting for a living because it meant she didn’t have to deal with the petty politics of a normal business. And really, the only reason she was involved was Crazy Lady had randomly dialed her phone number and sent her on a fool’s errand that only Law would be stupid enough to do. Bare Snow was safe. The viceroy was surrounded by the best warriors of Elfhome.
There was the sudden thunder of small feet.
“Law! Law! Aunt Babs says the baby—the baby has shoulders or something—she needs your help now!”
It was “shoulder dystocia” and it meant Law needed to lift Clover from the birthing pool and get her onto her knees with the baby already crowned. Emergency calm kicked in, letting Law deal with the scared Clover while Babs focused on the baby.