Light pulsed from artifacts, each device an anchor for a voice.
Mediator, the de facto leader of the Vesper Consortium, sat alone in his safe room with the map of the Greenvale Duchy spread across the table before him.
He watched the glow of each artifact, matching a tone or a flicker to a name: Maelstrom's iron-red pulse, Whisper's cool blue thread, Mercy's slow amber ring, Garrick's deep, steady beat, Broker's sharp silver. Black Fang's artifact remained dark and cold.
They have not been able to reach the woman ever since her hideout was invaded by Kaede and Lilith.
Maelstrom's laugh broke first, loud enough to rattle the markers on the map. His voice filled the room, full of swagger. "You should've seen it! The Fujimori army fell apart before the might of our men and women! Their banners have been trampled while their commander fled in the mud!"
He victoriously slammed his palm down on his own table for added effect.
