Chapter Thirty-Three

After painting in my brand-new studio for a little while, I decide to track Wyatt down. All morning, I’ve been thinking about our conversation yesterday, contemplating how we can turn our convictions—that segregation between species is dangerous and destructive—into constructive action.

Conversation is great, but it doesn’t fuel change; only decisive moves in the right direction would. If I can work with Wyatt on some sort of foreign policy, that’d cement him as an ally in the palace, one I suspect could bring many benefits. It could also gain me recognition as someone who the shifter population can trust to lead them into the future, which could afford me the power I’d need to eventually shift my focus to humans and humanitarian aid.

I may not have wanted my position in the shifter hierarchy, but I have it, and to waste the power I could use to change the world for the better would be idiotic. I have many, many valid grievances about my life growing up; if I can do something to make sure no person is ever impoverished and left to fend for themselves like I was, I’d sleep much easier. As of right now, however, helping humans can’t be my primary focus, not with war on the horizon. I need to look at the most pressing matters first.

A castle servant gives me directions to the war room, where I’m told Wyatt spends much of his time. The room itself is a marvel—constructed with dark bricks and accented with dark brown wooden tones. It’s gigantic, with one huge table taking up the center space. Overhead hangs a brilliant chandelier, and the walls are decorated with art work depicting men and wolves in battle.

Wyatt stands beside the table, leaning over it, appearing deeply concentrated. A map of Earth’s continents is painted onto the entire surface, so beautifully colored and intricately detailed I pause for a moment to study the artistry.

The only maps available in my village were old and worn down, most of them dating back to centuries ago when humans held dominance in this world. The map in front of me is so wildly different that I blink several times to take it in. The region that was once North America, Mexico, and the northeast half of Canada is now overtaken by wolf shifters, labeled as the Empire of Acuria. The northwest half of what was formerly Canada belongs to witches, now called Raith. Fascinating.

I find Aesara, which is a few hundred miles south of the capital, and my heart pangs at the thought of my home village. At the idea that, while I’m surrounded by wealth, beauty, and luxury, the people who I grew up with and helped me raise Leisel when times were hard are still struggling to put food on the table. I have to do what I can to help them.

Wyatt glances over at me. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you in here today.”

I raise my eyebrows, peeling my eyes away from the beautiful map to look at him. “Why’s that?”

Wyatt grins. “I thought Cam would keep you busy. Obviously, you managed to escape and then sought me out. Why don’t you tell me the reason for that?”

“Foreign relations,” I state. “Tell me about them. What are shifters foreign relations with other species? Who are you on good terms with? Bad terms with? Neutral towards?”

Wyatt arches an eyebrow. “You’re curious all of a sudden.”

I shake my head. “It’s not all of a sudden. Yesterday our discussion brought to light a problem that could seriously inhibit your kind: the lines that distinguish each species rarely being crossed. That will hurtle you into war after war if it continues. Camden is busy with matters pertaining to shifters; if you have time in your schedule, let’s start working on foreign policy. Create a path to diplomacy, forge alliances, all of the things that will strengthen your empire even though wolves are too full of themselves to know they need it.”

I wince after the last sentence because I didn’t mean to be that harsh. I do believe that wolf shifters are particularly elitist, and that blindness will cause them trouble moving forward. If I’m making a home with them—whether by choice or fate—I don’t want to be screwed over because of their bad instincts and snobbery. Besides, I’m an earth witch in the shifter palace. As far as I know, interspecies lines have never been crossed in such a fantastical way.

Wyatt tilts his head to the side, studying me. “What gives you the authority to push for this?”

Is he joking?

I say point-blank, “Being ripped away from my home, life, and village, only to be the first witch to have a position at the top of your hierarchy. And in my new position, seeing that you idiots have been stupid enough to isolate yourself from other mythic species—save for your fellow shifters. I’ve read about and studied a lot of war and politics that have occurred on this planet, and history tells us that isolation is the first steppingstone to defeat. That’s what gives me the fucking authority, Wyatt.”

Surprisingly, a grin breaks out on Wyatt’s face, and he nods. “Good. That means you’re finally ready to get to work. I was wondering how long it’d take before you came back to set up a game plan after our talk yesterday. Lucky for you, I like to be prepared.”

He walks to the door of the room and goes into the hall. I watch him exchange a few words with a servant before he comes back in. Meanwhile, I remain standing in place, mildly shocked by Wyatt’s ready acceptance to work with me—to the extent that it seems he’s put some thought and planning into it.

Wyatt pops his head into the room and says, “I’m going to round up our legal texts pertaining to foreign relations, along with trade agreements and the few other things that bind shifters to others. I’ll be back in fifteen; in the meantime, familiarize yourself with the map. Regional territorialism will definitely play into any work we do.”

With that, he’s gone. I follow his instructions in his absence, walking around the table, trying to memorize as much of the map as I can. On top of it there are also sporadically placed soldier figurines, which I assume connote a military buildup in the respective regions. It doesn’t escape my notice that the few territories belonging to vampires—all on undesirable land—are overrun with soldier figurines. There is no doubt that they’re preparing for a war.

I recall what Camden told me last night when we were talking in the library; there is a possibility the dark faye might ally themselves with the vampires. In addition to that, there clearly exist vampires with magical abilities—after all, Kyron teleported into the castle on his own—meaning shifters are already in need of magical aid. As far as I know, they have Claude in their magical arsenal who I imagine can’t subdue an entire species.

Looking over the territories that the dark faye hold, I come to understand just what a threat that would be. The dark faye have approximately double the numbers of vampires, and the two put together—especially since faye are inherently creatures of magic—could potentially overthrow shifters. If the vampires have the potential for a magical alliance, shifters need to be cemented into one as a deterrent.

The obvious first step would be for shifters to reach out to witches. They share a continent with them, and they now have a direct tie to them through me and Leisel. Granted, earthly witches are different from mythic witches, but everything I’ve read about witches and heard from my mother before death indicates that they’re extremely protective of their own.

When Wyatt comes back into the room, his arms are full of papers, and he’s accompanied by two palace servants who are carrying scrolls, tomes, and ledgers. They place all of the items on the table before quietly retreating.

“This is everything shifters have in terms of foreign relations. Read up and then we can get started.”

* * *

Six hours later…

“That is not how you structure foreign policies and diplomacy!” I snap at Wyatt. “Incentives are not the same things as threats. You don’t want to blackmail someone into being your ally, you want them to want to be your ally!”

I’ve managed to go through all of the tenuous agreements shifters hold with other species and factions, and in the midst of trying to figure out steps in the right direction, Wyatt constantly leans towards threatening others into alliances. I understand that there’s the shifter sense of dominance coming into play, but honestly, Wyatt should be smarter than to go with the join us or else slogan.

“Nobody wants to be allied with us!” Wyatt exclaims. “We invaded, took over, and spent the next decades basically ensuring that any other mythic settlers were below us in the power hierarchy. If we want anyone to even come to a negotiating table, it won’t be through niceties.”

I let out a growl. “Then focus on a common enemy! That’s how some of the strongest alliance amongst humans were forged—nations that were in thousand-year wars came together because they faced a bigger threat. Besides, you already have something that will bring others to the table! You have a bargaining chip that will bring witches to negotiate, if for nothing else than curiosity and their commitment to protecting their own.”

That gives Wyatt pause. He’s been pushing for our first outreach to the noble faye, who have a chokehold on all of the faye factions. His reasoning is sound; if we get them on their side, it’ll be difficult for vampires to get the dark faye on their side. From what I understand, dark faye might be psychotic, but few are stupid enough to go against the royals. While his logic of wanting to go to the faye is sound, it’s too big of a step, too fast. Plus, they have nothing tying them to the faye outside of a few trade agreements for materialistic things created on their territories, while they live on the same continent as the witches of the Raith Empire.

“Are you insinuating you’d be willing to use yourself as an incentive to bring witches to the table?” Wyatt asks.

“Obviously,” I say. “They’re the most attainable potential alliance. Besides, why wouldn’t I want to learn my craft from my own kind?”

I understood when I worked with Claude that he has some training in the magical arts, but his magical training primarily still pertains to shifters. Protecting shifters, healing shifters, and so on and so forth. There’s only so much I could learn from him. If I want real knowledge of the highest arts, I need to look to the source.

Wyatt nods. “That could work. I’ll get the ball rolling to have a liaison reach out and see if we can make the witches interested enough to agree to a meeting. For now, let’s write up a proposal that makes it impossible for the witches to decline. Then the real work begins.”