Bloodkin by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes Page B

but I didn’t have time to say, “As long as we’re given permission to speak to theroyal family, we will probably have a chance to explain ourselves. If we can convince their leaders we didn’t conspire against them, they won’t hurt us.”
    As soon as I stopped struggling, the figures around me became solid, no longer formless shadows. Shantel guards took my bow, quiver, and knife. They were all held by a man whose dark skin was marked with swirls and dots of ink that I recognized as Shantel marks of power.
    “We won’t hurt you,” the witch said, echoing my words. “We have been instructed to bring you to the temple. We cannot do that while you are armed.”
    The Shantel recognized what they called “three-times-three” types of magic, and of those, eight were common forms that any Shantel could study. Each of the eight paths filled a particular niche in Shantel society: craftsman, explorer, trader, healer, et cetera. I did not know the meaning behind the specific symbols this witch wore, but if I’d had to make a wild guess, I would have said “hunter.”
    When he referred to the temple, however, I knew he was talking about the ninth witch: the sakkri, a woman dedicated before birth and past death, and revered by even the king.
    “No,” Vance said, bluntly, as if we still had any power over the situation.
    I understood his feelings, but the guards had already taken us by surprise and seized our weapons. What choice did we have but to go along with them? At least the sakkriwould probably be able to divine the truth about our role in the plague.
    The witch who had taken our weapons explained, “The sakkri herself has demanded your presence.”
    “Vance,” I said, trying to reason with the wide-eyed fear I could see on the quetzal’s face, “the sakkri is the person most likely to know we—”
    “The last time I was in the presence of a Shantel witch,” Vance interrupted, pushing ineffectively against the guard gripping his arms, “he turned me into a plague-bearer so I could murder everyone I cared about before probably being put to a messy and painful death. I came here to support Kadee, because she was
worried
about you people. I do not want to visit with your high witch.”
    “I’m afraid,” the hunter said, “that you do not have a choice. Your weapons will be returned to you if and when the sakkri declares that you are not a threat.”
    “Are the other serpiente in these woods?” I asked, worried. The last thing I wanted was to run into Hara Cobriana while armed with nothing more dangerous than a wooden spoon.
    “They have been sent home,” the guards assured me. I lost my balance as my arms were abruptly released. “We’ll take our leave now, and see you soon.”
    Before we could reply, the Shantel faded back into the woods.
    Vance spun about, looking for the guards. Even theirfootprints were gone now. The only evidence they had really been there was the absence of our weapons.
    “See us soon?” Vance asked.
    “They already disarmed us,” I said, shaking my head. “They don’t need to drag us along with them and deal with our arguments and struggles. They trust the forest will put us where the sakkri wants us, regardless of our wishes.”
    “Are they right?” His tone said he already knew.
    “Probably,” I answered reluctantly. “Likely enough that we might as well pack up and get it over with. They wouldn’t have stepped in to take our weapons if we weren’t almost there.”
    I turned to start packing up our camp, and Vance followed suit. The process didn’t take long, and as we finished, Vance asked, “When you said you had an open invitation to visit the Shantel, I guess I thought that meant they saw you as a friend. What do I need to know before we walk into this?”
    “Shantel don’t really see anyone outside their own kind as a
friend
,” I admitted. “I think they see me as a … a responsibility I was a child when I was here last. They promised me I would