If Storm hadn’t been able to pin down a scent from the troll killing, no one could. Not Storm’s fault. The Skinwalker had run hard day and night trying to find the killer, which the Beladors needed more than ever now, or the Medb would point a finger at the Beladors for that murder, too. He’d suffered through a half hour with the damned Tribunal deities, who were no happier with him than he was with them. The hell with them. They wanted the Beladors to play nice with the murdering Medb. They wanted the gryphon issue settled. They wanted Macha to shake and be friends with Maeve. Like any of those crazy gods and goddesses would do that in Macha’s position? Well, he wanted a few things too, like a chance at a normal life with the woman he loved. That was never going to happen as long as he had to cater to every person between here and Treoir. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a day off, much less a real day with Brina. If Brina needed anything right now, no problem.
