26
Once we’d all assembled in the Council Chamber, Morena started with a call to order. I looked around as she read the minutes of the last meeting—which I’d not been invited to, but which didn’t mention me or my situation. I still felt that power coiled at my solar plexus, my third chakra, some would say, but it lay quiet like it waited for something. I, too, waited and dreaded the words that would make the previous evening’s horror real. Finally they came.
“As you know,” Morena said, “David Lachlan was investigating the Order of the Silver Arrow for the Council.”
“Where is he, anyway?” asked Cora Campbell. “I cut a trip short to be here. He should be more considerate.”
“I’m sure he would have been here,” Morena told her, “had he not died in his home last night.”
Cora’s mouth fell op
