“Why are the unseelie fae trying to cause havoc, anyway?”
“Faeries aren’t like therians,” Moon-Singer replied. “Whether they’re seelie or unseelie… it’s just in their nature. They don’t see their actions as a means to any kind of ends, for better or worse. They just enjoy being cruel or kind.”
I tried to think about Wren in those terms. I suppose it did fit with her carefree attitude. “Are you going to talk to Ghost?” I asked.
Moon-Singer scratched his beard. “Well, I’ll have to, if I want to find out what happened to your dad.”
“Can I come with you?” I asked.
Moon-Singer balked. “How about not?! You’ve only been on one mission.”
“But it’s my father!” I said. “And I can always summon him if I get in trouble.”
Moon-Singer looked skeptical.
“My father’s death changed everything,” I said. “It changed the course of my life. I’d like to at least know who killed him.”
“Have you asked your father yet?” Moon-Singer asked.
“He doesn’t remember.”
“Odd,” Moon-Singer mumbled. “I suspect whoever killed him knew he’d become an ancestor spirit and didn’t want him to remember.”
“Even if he did remember, we’d still have to track down his killer,” I replied.
“True,” Moon-Singer replied. “But it would have given us a better start.”
“So you’re letting me come with you?” I asked.
Moon-Singer sighed. “If you can get a couple other people to agree to babysit you,” he said. “Not other therians your age. I’m talking experienced warriors. It’ll be good for you anyway–help develop your people skills.”
“I have plenty of people skills,” I replied.
“Then you won’t have any trouble finding people to come along,” Moon-Singer replied with a smirk.