Blood of Centaurs: Book 12 of The Witch Fairy Series by Bonnie Lamer

ourselves.”  The steal in Dagda’s voice and the threat makes the Centaurs bristle. 
    “You claim to come as a friend yet you spew threats?” Pholos demands.
    “The girl is young,” Garren tells him.  “She has yet to learn how wise Centaurs are in this regard.  It will simply take time to educate her.”  He is a major suck up.  I want to reach around Tana and slap him upside the head.  From the way Kallen is squeezing my fingers, he wants to do more than slap the older Fairy.  Maybe later when there are fewer witnesses.  For now, we’ll just have to ignore him.
    Turning to Kallen, I ask, “Why do things like this always happen to me?”
    Trying to keep the amusement from his face, my dear husband says, “My love, do you really expect me to answer?”
    No, I suppose not.  I don’t really need to dig that deep into my psyche to figure it out on my own.  Rising from my seat, I say, “Bayard, your sentries made the first move in regards to violence.  So, please understand that if I must use force against your Centaurs in retaliation, I will not be able to serve as mediator.  There will be too much bad blood between us.  Sometimes I say and do things that are brash and occasionally rude.  I will attempt to show you deference in regards to your position and as my elder, but not if it means compromising my own beliefs.  I’m afraid you must decide now if you can handle that or not.”
    The old Centaur studies me for several long minutes.  Waving his Centaurs back, Bayard says with a gasping sound that might be a chuckle, “The girl is right.  If she is the bringer of peace, we must let her do so in her own way.  Our way has not been successful.”  He looks around the room at the Centaurs who are standing with their arms crossed over their chests, ready to argue with him.  “The girl will not be threatened again.”  There is some grumbling, but I believe his point has been made.  He may be King only in name, but he is still King, I guess.
    To me, Bayard says, “We will speak no more of what is written in the stars.  You need not believe it for it to be true.”  To Dagda, he says, “Old friend, let us continue on in the peace we have known these many centuries.”
    Dagda nods once.  “I would like nothing more.”
    Liar.  He’s still annoyed but doesn’t want to show it.  I know this because invisible bugs are bounding across my skin.  The next few days are going to suck.
    Wanting to move things along now that v iolence is off the table, I release the Centaur sentry from my magic and ask, “Why are we here before the Sasquatch?  What do you want to say to us that you don’t want them to hear?”
    “You are wise beyond your years,” Bayard says.  “ Yes, there are words to be spoken before the Sasquatch arrive.”
    Scowling, Kallen asks, “Is it wise to meet behind closed doors?  The Sasquatch will surely hear of it.  They are a proud yet paranoid race and will consider it an affront.”
    “I agree,” Dagda adds.  “We are here to be neutral observers.” 
    “Bah,” Bayard says with a wave of his liver-spotted hand.  “The Sasquatch are always taking offense to something.”
    With a tight smile, Dagda says, “Then is it wise to give them more options?”
    Pholos climbs off the marble tier again and answers Dagda’s question as he takes his place next to his father.  “We simply want our point of view understood.  You will be welcome to have the same council with the Sasquatch when they arrive.”
    “Okay, what do you want us to know?” I ask.  Somebody needs to get to the point soon or I’m going to go insane.
    As soon as Pholos plasters the benevolent expression all over his face, I know I’m in for a bug fest.  His first sentence proves how right I am.  “We understand the plight of the Sasquatch and want to be as compassionate as we can.”  The first wave of bugs have arrived.  “But,” I knew there would be a ‘but’. “Just as theirs are,