Chapter 25

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Wyxotte threw up her hands. "I do not understand you. First you profess your conviction over Uriel's guilt and now you go out on a limb where Lhynette is concerned."

A little smile played at Dhynelle's lips. "I am simply trying to be thorough," she said in an innocent tone.

"Yes," said Xenyssa. "Let us be thorough. Where were you this past evening?"

Dhynelle's bright green eyes turned dull. She did not appreciate the turnaround from accuser to accused. She did not appreciate Xenyssa, either, for that matter. Before the death of Khyrhyelle, the Council's white robes were a relatively weak group who relied on the wisdom and intervention of the High Witch a great deal. But Xenyssa had changed that. She had a commanding presence about her and had an annoying habit (at least as far as Dhynelle was concerned) of being able to get to the heart of matters. The black woman frequently spoke her mind and there was a high correlation between what Xenyssa said and what the actuality of the matter was.

"If you must know," Dhynelle answered spitefully while using her right hand to flip back her long black hair, "Qelharre and I spent the evening together." She immediately turned to the dark elf. "Is that not right?"

Qelharre had already raised an arched eyebrow. She craned her neck a bit then ran a hand through her red hair. "Yes," she said finally, "it is true."

Quickly redirecting the suspicion, Dhynelle returned the favor. "If I may ask, where were you Xenyssa?"

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