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Rowan wondered if the rest of her family was still so unaware of the different level Rowan was at now that the Coven rescinded their goal of attaining her as an asset.

“Oh my gods, yes! We are so going on all of those ‘too dangerous’ adventures dad barred us from.” Zeva squealed, wrapping her arm around her younger sister. “Is this what true freedom feels like?”

Rowan snickered and then turned to look at the slowly recuperating vampire. “You good?”

Louisa gave a thumbs up.

Kin looked unsure, but his amusement replaced concern as Rowan picked Zeva up bridal style even though Zeva had a good four inches on her.

“Stop moving, or I’ll drop you!” Rowan warned, as her wings shot them into the air. She wasn’t used to carrying more than her own body weight around and it showed in their shaky flight path.

Zeva pouted. “I wanted to see if I could tell what’s in the pit.”

“It’s at least three miles down. Even I cannot make out what is down there.” Kin said from next to them.

“And he has better vision than a half-blind bat like you,” Rowan teased.

Zeva pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and huffed as she looked away, “Remind me not to do you guys anymore favors for the rest of the year.”

“As the baby sister, I refuse to allow you to tell me no.”

The ground was sand on the other side of the chasm. Rowan’s boots sunk so low the sand covered the top of her foot.

Zeva frowned, “Let’s stick to the walls, it’s less likely to have traps.”

The walls were cool to the touch.Rowan kept a guiding hand on them as she led the way up the sharply inclined field of sand that kept sliding under her feet.

It felt like a small lifetime had passed when they finally reached the apex, each breathing hard from the exertion.

Two giant cages of gold sat only a few yards away. They reflected the flames of torches lined against the cavern walls, giving them plenty of light to take in the sight.

One cage remained empty, but the other had a sphinx occupying it. The sphinx had the head of an older man, aged by the lines around his eyes and mouth. He was undeniably handsome.

He wore a white nemes headdress. The sculpture of the cobra that decorated it was as tall as Rowan. His great lion body was a dark brown shade sprinkled with random spurts of gray.

Rowan didn’t know how to process the smell around him. Like some older scrolls that Zeva had discovered through her adventures, it was reminiscent of the era it originated from, something out of temporal space.

He was facing them by the time they made it to the bars of his cage, paws crossed in front of him as he leaned down so close she could reach through the bars and touch his sharp nose.

She didn’t, though. Instead, she bowed her head and waited.

“Salam alaikum.” The voice of the sphinx shook the sands under their feet with its deep octave.

“Wa Alaikum al-salam.” Zeva spoke first, “Abanoub, I am Zeva Dahl. We are here to understand what happened two days ago. Could we trouble you with our questions?”

“Dahl.” Abanoub whispered the name as if trying to remember where he’d heard it before. “You wish for me to retell the story of the worst day of my life?”

“Yes, Abanoub, attacks like the one you endured have been occurring too many times to just be coincidences. We believe something is connecting them, but your story hasn’t been told to us in full.”

“What does an elf want with the problems of shifters?”

Zeva turned to Rowan, clearly not expecting the question.

“Abanoub, as you know, the shifters are great in numbers, they along with the other mystic races and humans, have blended into society where there is nowhere that they’re excluded from. This isn’t a problem only for shifters, this is a problem for all races. We are already seeing the effects of the fear attacks like this have on our fragile societies. The dragons have shut their doors to outsiders. I have not faced wars of any sorts, but I listen to the stories of my elders and know that war kills not only people, but parts of their souls. I refuse to stand back and watch souls shatter.”

Abanoub looked around at the collection of people. “A succubus, an elf, a vampire and a kitsune. Is this your army to fight against this?”

It was a bit troubling for Kin to be identified when he spent an enormous deal of effort to neutralize his scent, ormagic signature, to the level of a common witch. Abanoub was unexpectedly sharp. Rowan chose to not draw anymore attention to her business partner and focused on the bigger issue at hand. “I don’t need an army to get answers or to find a culprit. Peace is easier when there is one common enemy, isn’t it?”