“Three are confirmed to be deceased,” Magistrate Kidder responded from where he sat, his hands gripping his knees until his knuckles were bleached white. “But there were . . . pieces found along the outside of the manor wall that have led us to believe there may be two or more yet unconfirmed.”
Behind the gray-haired magistrate, Hymel frowned.
“Pieces?” Claude spun toward the Magistrate as my gaze flickered to the doorway, briefly meeting Grady’s. “What do you mean by pieces?”
“Well, to be more exact, there were additional limbs that outnumbered those accounted for.” Magistrate Kidder’s complexion was nearly as pale as the Baron’s shirt. “One leg and two additional arms.”
“Fuck,” Hymel muttered, lip curling.
The bite of cold meat sandwich I’d swallowed mere minutes ago immediately soured in my stomach. I slowly placed the fork and knife onto the table, immensely regretting not having taken my lunch in my quarters. But I hadn’t been prepared for Claude to storm into the space with the Magistrate in tow. Nor had I been prepared to learn that three of the Baron’s guards had been killed last night. Or four. Or five.
Claude grabbed a decanter from the credenza and drank straight from it. “How long before your people can find and clean up the remains that belonged to those additional arms and legs?” He set the decanter down heavily. “Guests have already begun to arrive for this evening’s festivities. The last thing I need is for any of them to stumble upon a random head or torso among the roses.”
I briefly closed my eyes, more disgusted by the Baron’s somewhat surprising utter lack of care regarding who those pieces belonged to than I was with the grotesque topic of conversation.
“I have several men out there right now, searching for possible remains,” the Magistrate assured him. “But I would suggest you close the gardens for the next several hours.”
“No shit,” Claude muttered, dragging his hand through his hair again. The water in my glass began to tremble as he started pacing again. “You’ve seen the bodies, right?”
Magistrate Kidder’s throat bobbed as he nodded. “And I won’t unsee any of it.”
Claude crossed in front of the window, momentarily blocking the sunlight. “What do you think caused this?”
“Likely what your cousin thinks and what the others reported seeing.” The Magistrate glanced back at Hymel. “Ni’meres.”
A shudder ran through me as I recalled the sound of wings beating against the air. I had to agree with what Hymel and the other guards were saying.
Ni’meres were another type of Hyhborn, the kind lowborn rarely dealt with or saw. I’d only ever seen them once before, when Grady and I were just kids, after leaving Union City. The stagecoach driver had spotted them on the road, circling a portion of the Wychwoods. They were something straight from a nightmare— a creature with a wingspan of over seven feet and talons longer and sharper than the claws of a bear. From the neck down, they resembled extraordinarily large eagles that stood nearly four feet tall.
But their head was that of a mortal.
“But why the fuck would ni’meres attack my men?” Claude demanded. “Don’t they only attack when someone comes too close to where they’re nesting?”
“I don’t think they were the target.” Grady spoke up from where he stood at the doors. “That’s what Osmund said this morning. That the ni’meres were heading for something in the gardens, and those patrolling the wall were unfortunately in the way. Grell and Osmund were on the ground when they hit.”
Claude passed by my table. “Then do you know what could’ve been in the gardens, that drew them?”
Now my stomach churned for an entirely different reason. Something had been in the gardens. My Hyhborn lord— no, he wasn’t mine. I really needed to stop with that. I picked up the glass of water and took several gulps.
“That I can’t answer,” Grady responded, his gaze briefly flicking to mine. I shrank a little in my seat. “None of the others saw anything out of the ordinary before they swarmed the gardens.”
Swarmed.
My hand shook slightly as I placed the glass down. A Hyhborn lord was a powerful being, but there had to be at least a dozen or more ni’meres. How could Lord Thorne have fought them off? But he had to have, because if not, they would have found him.
Unless those extra limbs belonged to him.
Worry festered, knotting in my chest as I set my glass down.