My tail twitched as I watched the carriages roll away. After riding most of the way with them, Fyren and I left, finding a small, public garden tucked behind the grounds of a small noble house just half a mile from the Grove. It had a small cluster of gnarled oak trees, with a little burbling brook winding past a bench carved from the stump of a tree that must have been ten feet across.
"Seems as good a place as any," Fyren rumbled, looking around. He folded his arms, his black armor gleaming in the pale light of the rising sun.
"It's nice," I said. "I hope we don't ruin it."
"We will," he said with a snort. "Anyone who thinks this will resolve peacefully is a fool."
I flinched, flushing slightly. I could number the visions I'd seen of the vote ending with a surrender on one hand, but that didn't mean I didn't hope.
"So what's your plan?" Fyren asked, resting one hand on his sword hilt.
I froze with a guilty start. "I, er...wait here for everything to quiet down?"
