Veil of Shadows by Shiloh Walker Page B

desire of his people.
    But Laithe possessed only Gate magic, and it was useless here. He was neither sorcerer nor seer—he had no ability to see the future, no skills to rival the talents of the Ishtanian witches. All he could do was manipulate Gate energies, and since the Gate’s collapse, that gift had been rendered useless. He could feel the energies, but he could no longer touch them.
    However, he could have a great deal of use for some of the technology used by those in Ishtan. The ability to send word back to his fellow Warlords in just moments—ah, yes, that would be useful.
    He kept to the shadows, silent and still, as he watched the traitor. Warlords had superior eyesight and he used it now to keep watch on the man from a safe distance. This far away, Dais couldn’t hear him, couldn’t smell or see him.
    But Laithe wasn’t such a fool to think the man was unaware of him. Despite his arrogance, the traitor hadn’t survived all these years by being careless. Laithe knew of the man. Until yesterday, he hadn’t known the man’s name, but many of those who’d served the High Lord’s family knew that Raichar Taise had a spy within the rebel army.
    Now the spy promised to deliver a female Warlord. One who had the blood of both Warlord and witch in her veins and could harness both powers. It was unthinkable, so far outside the realm of possibility that Laithe couldn’t understand it.
    He wouldn’t put it past Dais to lie, but there had been nothing of a lie in the man’s eyes, in his scent, in his voice, when he’d made his claims. Either he truly believed in the existence of some female Warlord . . . or she truly did exist.
    The daughter of Raichar Taise.
    Laithe idly stroked his fingers against the stone he wore around his neck. It barely pulsed at his touch. Once, it had held enough power that it had throbbed, all but vibrated under his touch.
    That power was useless now, scattered. Lost in the chaos of this world’s tumultuous energy.
    Witches could touch that power. Harness it. Calm it.
    A female Warlord with a witch’s power . . .
    The possibilities.

    There were times when being in charge had its benefits; Syn had no doubt about that. Having a private dormer was absolutely one of them, and one she’d put to her advantage over the past few weeks.
    But there were also times when it absolutely sucked.
    She pored over the reports, even though the numbers threatened to make her eyes cross. Her dormer also served as her makeshift office, and she’d been stuck inside it for half the day, trying to figure out if she had enough men to safely send a unit back east for supplies.
    They needed more material—for weapons, for clothing. Food would be nice—they had plenty to eat, but what she wouldn’t give for some sort of variety. She was tired of the basic rations they existed on. It was supplemented to some extent by the food found by the hunting and gathering parties, but Syn had no idea how long much longer that would last.
    True to their goals, the rebel army had focused on culling the demon population, and as expected, the demons had ramped up their aggressiveness. It was getting too dangerous outside the walls—how much longer before Kalen decided they couldn’t afford to send people outside the gates for food when they had rations inside the camp?
    If they couldn’t drive the demons back . . . “No. We’ll find a way,” she muttered, forcing her thoughts away from that path. They’d figure something out. They had to.
    “Focus on the supply report, girl.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, ignoring the grumble of her belly. She’d missed the noontime meal, and none of the food she had in her dormer appealed. She’d almost sell her eyeteeth for a cache of sweets she had to share with no one. Greedy—she was absolutely greedy.
    There was a knock at the door, and she absently called out, “Come in.”
    The door opened, and she didn’t even have to look up to know who it was. Heat rippled