Later Kana would reflect that it was called “a murder of crows” for a reason. Right then, she and Rastaban were riveted to the spot, watching in horror as Andrev’s own kind turned on him.
“How the hell did the hunters summon them?” Kana demanded. “They hated his kind and thought he was an aberration. How --”
And then she saw, on the edge of the crowd, Savva’s wife, clutching a poultice of herbs and chanting. A witch. Of course.
Rastaban dragged a hand through his hair. “They’ll kill him. What do we do?”
“Nothing,” Kana said. “To them we’re dead.”
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