They spent two more nights with the Lady of the Wilds. Other vampires came to see her while they were present. Most were from the war pack shadowing the warring humans, but some had come from farther away, crossing oceans as Seba and his assistants had.

A few of the Cubs recognized Larten and Wester, and greeted Larten by his nickname. It had been some years since he’d been called Quicksilver and he found it oddly unsettling. That part of his life was behind him and he wished to move on. Though he was polite to the Cubs who had once been his friends, he made no effort to renew any of those friendships.

Evanna hosted most of her visitors openly, but sometimes she sent Seba and his assistants away so that she could greet a newcomer in private. She seemed to know what each of her guests would prefer, and did what she could to satisfy their requirements — except agree to their pleas to accept them as her partner.

“We came to this country just to meet Evanna, didn’t we?” Wester asked Seba on the third night as they were resting on a nearby hil after they had slipped into one of the soldiers’ camps to feed.

Seba nodded. “You are as sharp as ever, Master Flack. Evanna would rather the clan left her alone. She tires of our endless proposals. But she knows how highly we regard her, so she sets aside several nights every now and then for us to court her. A favored few are welcome at her home too, but most have to settle for meetings like this.”

“Where does she live?” Wester asked.

Seba shook his head. “If she wants you to know, she will tel you.”

“So you brought us here for her to have a look at us, in case she liked our faces?” Larten asked.

“Aye.” Seba rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “We believe Evanna will choose a mate one night, either a vampire or a vampaneze, but —”