Chapter 4

Gai’Tan

I watched Ly’Tana bank and wheel high overhead.

Gods above and below, she was beautiful. I sat in my saddle, Rufus shifting under me, restless, gazing upward. Rapt, I could not tear my eyes from the sight of her.

With the sun on her wings, she beat skyward. Only to fold them against her back and drop like a stone, Bar beside her all the way. Her hawk’s shriek sounded to my ears lovelier than any music. Even without her smile, her glowing eyes, I knew all the joy she felt in the world happened right now. As a bird small enough I could hold in my fist.

How did she do it? How could she find such happiness, such incredible joy in flying? I think I could have faced any enemy in this world without flinching, without trembling, without fear. Yet, the thought of all that air between me and the ground—Ye gods!

Held fascinated by the sight of her wheeling in midair, dancing with Bar, chasing him across the cloudless blue sky, I felt no little envy. Bar could share this moment with her. I could not. My heart ached with a yearning I could not express, never explain nor rationalize, even to myself.

Kel’Ratan’s grumble brought my attention from the pair in the sky above earthward.

“Where’s Rygel?” Kel’Ratan asked, clearly worried. His brow puckered over his fierce blue eyes, and his mustache bristled. “He left her alone to fly back? I’m not liking this. Not at all.”

As he pitched his voice low, I doubted anyone else heard him. I glanced back down the line, eyeing the savage Kel’Hallan fighters grinning, laughing, delighting in the sight of the heir to their country’s throne flying above them.

“They must have run into some sort of trouble,” I murmured, finding Ly’Tana after searching the sky for her. She was naught but a tiny dot beside a large winged spot, high above.

“Bad trouble, I’m thinking.” Kel’Ratan bit his lip. “For him to be missing and her to fly back, still a bird.”

“He’ll be here.”

Kel’Ratan opened his mouth to protest, but shut it when he caught my glance. “She ought not to be messing about up there. She needs to come down at once.”

“Let her be for a moment longer,” I told him, with a small smile. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Despite his worry, Kel’Ratan’s chest swelled suddenly and I smothered a grin. “Yes, m’lord, that she is.”

I eyed him sidelong, taking full note of the pride Kel’Ratan felt in his younger cousin. The cousin he felt such a powerful need to protect, to shelter, to keep safe. I suspected now that Ly’Tana has flown the nest, literally, Kel’Ratan will find his duty in protecting her quite difficult. He turned to glance at me, before I could hide my amusement. Rather than the irritation I expected, he smiled. It was a sweet, gentle smile belying the craggy, fierce expression which usually occupied his face.

“That she is indeed,” he murmured, his eyes filled with the sight of Ly’Tana flying in low in another diving run over the heads of her people, Bar in hot pursuit.

The instant Ly’Tana buzzed past his face, almost clipping his mustache, he suddenly bellowed, “Damn it, girl. Get your ass down here and give us a report. Step on it.”

“Must you?” I asked, rubbing my ear.

He turned a sudden grin my way. “We can’t be letting her have all the fun, now can we?”

Ly’Tana banked around, her grace in the air once more made me envious of her joyous freedom, her wings slowing. Bar circled above, chirping, his tone happy and contented. Perhaps his previous ire with her had dispersed, I thought. I doubted he would land, given his dislike of the nasty flood we still waded through, step by slow step. I cast about, looking for a potential landing site for Ly’Tana.

Before I really realized what she intended, Ly’Tana backwinged toward me, her razor talons out. Hastily, after slamming home my sword, I held out my right arm. I knew why falconers wore heavy leather gloves when handling hawks and falcons. Those talons created to kill could rip a man’s arm apart without effort.

Ly’Tana knew her stuff. She landed on my forearm with a graceful drop, her talons tight enough to cling and keep her balance but not so tight she cut me. I barely felt her tiny weight. Her grip on me was as gentle as her human hand once was. She peeped up at me from piercing raptor eyes and chirped.

Her warriors went wild. Laughing, they cheered, they bounced up and down, they slapped one another on the back. All of them, warriors to a man danced like children, deliriously happy at their wild princess’s performance. I stared like a fool, unable to move or speak. My chest suddenly ached.

“Damn, girl, aren’t you a one?”

Kel’Ratan’s love for his royal cousin glowed in his suddenly shining blue eyes, his bright and open expression. He brushed a finger down her feathers, his knuckle brushing her cheek in love and adoration. All I could do, bloody lummox, was gape, and struggle to draw in a breath.

“Where’s Rygel?”

Arianne’s panicked voice broke through my struggle to regain control of my emotions and Kel’Ratan’s admiration. The warriors grew silent. At my sister’s apparent panicked hysteria, Corwyn led the grey mare forward. Her midnight hair flung back from her face, Arianne clutched the saddle’s pommel with white knuckles, her glorious eyes streaming tears.

Where was Rygel indeed? Happily distracted, I searched the sky, as did everyone present, hoping to see another hawk, or at least a black raven, flying in, laughing, repentant and full of hasty apology. The sky above remained empty and lifeless save for Bar, still circling above.

Without Rygel’s presence, an evil pall fell over the group like a cloud hiding the sun. All eyes turned to Ly’Tana on my arm for the answer. Where was he and what happened?

For answer, she shrieked, a high-pitched ke-ke-ke, and flapped her wings in agitation. What the hell did that mean?

“What are you trying to say?” Kel’Ratan demanded. “We can’t understand you, Ly’Tana.”

Leaving their horses, the Kel’Hallans crowded around, standing in the stagnant water up to their knees. A few, Witraz, Rannon and Alun, alternated between watching the sky and sending worried glances toward the hawk on my wrist. The twins stood to either side of me, obviously trying to still guard her, should a threat, given Rygel’s absence, present itself. The young blonde brothers decided to split up, and each of them stood sentry, watching the sky, at either end of the group.

Ly’Tana didn’t calm at Kel’Ratan’s urging, but still squawked in sharp chirps, at times flaring her wings and bouncing up and down on my arm. I glanced at Kel’Ratan in dismay.

“Is he dead?” Kel’Ratan gasped, staring at her in sudden fear. “Did he get killed, Ly’Tana? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Ly’Tana’s fear increased. She jumped from my arm and circled about my head, still crying, her voice shrieking in sharp ke-ke-ke cheeps. Kel’Ratan leaped up, trying in vain to catch her in his hands until I grabbed his shoulder. Arianne screamed, her fingers clawing at her face. Tor wrapped his arms about her from behind, trying to calm her. Corwyn, unused to female hysterics, patted her arm, his face a mask of helplessness and worry.

“Cease!” I thundered. “Rygel isn’t dead. Everyone calm down. Arianne, cease this nonsense. Rygel’s alive.”

At my words, both Kel’Ratan and Ly’Tana quieted. The warriors relaxed a fraction, sending each other glances of relief, and wry, sheepish grins. Arianne stared at me, finally allowing Tor to lower her arms, but he still kept his arms firmly wrapped about her.

Too far away to offer more than a quick smile and a wave, I sent her what reassurance I could. I didn’t receive one in return, but she did retreat behind her curtain of hair. Perhaps that was a good sign.

Ly’Tana returned to my forearm, her wings tucking over her back. Kel’Ratan blew a gust of relief, his red mustache blowing off his upper lip. His entire posture relaxed, but he restlessly walked about in the water, watching the sky. Ly’Tana chirped. It sounded, to me, like a question. I answered what I thought the question was.

“Yes,” I answered, stroking my finger gently down her feathers as Kel’Ratan had done. “The bond between us. I’d know if he was dead. He’s not.”

She shook herself, her feathers settling into place in what seemed like relief. I answered the next obvious question in Kel’Ratan’s eyes. “No, I don’t know where he is. Just my gut telling me he’s off to the northeast of us.”

Ly’Tana chirped. Kel’Ratan straightened, his fierce blue eyes intent upon her.

“Listen, girl,” he said, stepping closer to her. I held my arm out so the two might see each other better.

“I’ve an idea. We can’t understand a bloody word of yours, so here’s what we’ll do. We’re going to ask you some yes or no questions,” he said, his finger uplifted. “One chirp for yes, two chirps for no? Got it?”

She chirped.

I, and all the men present, sighed. Arianne came out of her fortress, her expression curious, her tears drying rapidly under the onslaught of the summer sun. Corwyn ceased patting her arm and Tor finally relaxed his grip. All leaned forward, expectant, hushed.

“Now then,” Kel’Ratan said, his finger and his blue eyes riveted upon the tiny bird on my wrist. “Did you find Brutal?”

She chirped, once. The feathers over her neck rose.

“All right, you found him and he pissed you off.”

She chirped.

“Did he see you?”

Two rapid fire chirps answered him.

“Was that devil-boy there? Ja’Teel?”

Another chirp.

“Did he see you?”

She chirped once, her wings returning to her back. Then she chirped twice, in quick succession.

Kel’Ratan and I stared at one another. What did that mean?

“Wait, wait,” Kel’Ratan snapped, touching his fingers to his brow and shutting his eyes. “Yes and no, what are you trying to tell us, girl?”

Ly’Tana repeated her chirps, and flapped her wings.

Understanding dawned on me. “Ly’Tana, Ja’Teel saw Rygel but didn’t see you? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Her wings settled. She chirped once.

Kel’Ratan gave a sigh of relief and mimed wiping sweat from his brow. “All right, so no one saw you?”

Ly’Tana clicked her beak, uttering a series of half-chirps and squawks, as though she spoke in a strange dialect. In a way she did. Her head turned over her shoulder, peering up into the sky, then turned around on my arm. She repeated her hawk-talk, flapping her wings and still peering up at the sky. Turning back to face me, she looked at me from first her right eye, then her left, clicking her beak.

“I know she just told us what happened,” I said slowly. “But I’ll be damned if I know what she said.”

Kel’Ratan gazed fiercely up at Bar. “Can you bleeding understand her?”

Bar screeched, an obvious negation, in my uninformed opinion. Ly’Tana flapped her wings and nipped Kel’Ratan’s thumb. He jerked his hand back and scowled at her.

“Why the bloody hell did you do that?”

“She’s trying to tell us something.”

“I know that you—”

Kel’Ratan caught my eyes and swallowed the rest of his sentence. Glaring at Ly’Tana, he all but burned her in blue fire.

“Did Rygel and Ja’Teel fight?”

She vocalized again, a loud, anguished screech and rustled her feathers. Her hackles did not subside. So things did not bode well for Rygel. I caught the grim glance Kel’Ratan flashed me. Did we have to ride to rescue Rygel? I could not ask that one, as it was not a yes or no. I bit my lip instead.

“Was Rygel all right when you last saw him?”

Another chirp.

“Is he injured?”

Silence. Ly’Tana half-spread her wings, afraid and ready to fly. My fingers down her back soothed her, I hoped, for she relaxed a fraction.

“She doesn’t know,” I murmured.

“So here’s what we know,” Kel’Ratan held up his fingers and one by one folded them down. “One, they found Brutal. Two, Rygel fought a battle with Ja’Teel. Three, he took off to the northeast and Ly’Tana hasn’t seen him since. Am I correct?”

Ly’Tana chirped, her agitation still in full force. I’d have to calm her before she took off into the wild skies.

“He’s alive, dear one,” I murmured, lifting her to my eye level, still soothing her ruffled feathers. “He’s alive, and he’ll be back.”

A sharp screech made my ears wince. Yet, I knew what it was she demanded. I have no idea how, but I knew.

“Yes, I promise,” I murmured, rubbing my nose against the tip of her beak. “I promise.”

Ly’Tana calmed immediately, her feathered cheek caressing mine. With a quick, incredibly gentle move, she nipped my lip with her sharp raptor’s beak. I just received my very first kiss from a hawk. I couldn’t prevent the silly grin that spread across my face. Nor could I stop the rising blush from starting at my neck and moving north. Ly’Tana chittered, her feathers rustling. A very Ly’Tana giggle. My blush inflamed into a volcano.

“How in the devil do you know what she asked?” Kel’Ratan demanded crossly. “Nothing but chatter to me.”

“The language of love.”

Kel’Ratan, Ly’Tana and I slewed about, staring intently at Arianne. As did every warrior who heard the exchange. Even Tor leaned sideways out of the saddle to stare at her. Rather than hide, as I expected her to, under the scrutiny of more than a dozen eyes, she smiled. Another one of those I-know-more-than-you-do smiles. Apparently, Rygel gave her lessons.

“Language of love?” Kel’Ratan snorted, his mustache bristling. “Needs a bleeding interpreter if you ask me.”

“What the blazes is that?”

Witraz’s voice cut through our combined stares at Arianne, breaking the spell. Yet, no one thought to cuff him for his lack of manners. All of us, to a man, followed his narrow gaze as he stared northeast, his hand raised to shade his eyes.

What was that indeed? A chill cooled the hot volcano the blush created and crawled down my spine. What did I just say about fear? Gods above and below….

“What is that?” Kel’Ratan murmured, awed.

His fingers made the sign to protect him from great enchantment and evil. I forced my left hand, the one not holding Ly’Tana on my wrist, to my side to prevent it from making the same sign.

On the distant horizon, a great shape flew, dark against the bright sun’s rays. Huge wings beat slowly up and down. While the remainder of the creature remained fuzzy and indistinct, silhouetted against the sun, those tremendous wings held enough definition for me to see clearly. Something fantastic, something impossibly huge, flew towards us. If that wingspan was any indication, the creature put Bar to shame.

Bar. Flinging my hair back, I looked up. His yellow raptor’s eyes on the flying form racing toward us, he shrieked, breaking the spell that kept the warriors in thrall. They drew weapons, cursing, and stumbled through the water to cluster close to Ly’Tana and I.

Weapons?

Kel’Ratan drew his sword, ready. Corwyn placed himself, his blade in his fist, between Arianne and the death approaching on swift wings. Swords, bows? How could swords fight against something that huge that flew on wings? What earthly good would those do against whatever now threatened us?

Bar shrieked again. Circling higher, he flew straight towards his doom, keeping his body between the threat and his beloved Ly’Tana. Bar had no chance against such a creature, I knew, if it proved hostile. None of us had a single chance of surviving.

It grew closer. At last more definition became apparent as the creature grew closer. I shaded my eyes against the sun, now seeing a huge head, spiked horns, a long leathery tail. Flames suddenly erupted from its muzzle.

Gods above and below! I staggered back, making Ly’Tana squawk and flap her wings to maintain her balance. Her talons dug deeper to remain attached to my arm, but I felt no pain.

A dragon.

I didn’t know I muttered those words aloud until Kel’Ratan repeated them. “A dragon? Where in Nephrotiti’s name did a dragon come from? And what’s it to do with us?”

Bar didn’t care. He’d die before the dragon even came close. He flew higher, his front talons out and ready for battle. He, like all of us, paused, frozen in time, as Ly’Tana chirped.

She didn’t screech, shriek, scream or vocalize any other hawk announcement of fear. She glanced up at Bar from one eye, then turned her head to look at me from the other. She clicked her beak a few times, gathering the attention of her people, Tor and Arianne. She chirped again, a mild, unperturbed sound. She spread her right wing to preen it.

“It’s Rygel,” I muttered. “That’s Rygel.”

“Impossible,” Kel’Ratan muttered, stunned.

Rygel, if it was Rygel, reached us. A thing of raw, primal beauty, rugged strength and awesome power, winged up and over, its shadow plunging all into shadow for two or three heartbeats. Flames once more blew forth, white smoke trailing behind from its nostrils as it banked high. Long front legs ending in razor-sharp talons lay tucked against its belly. Long hind legs and an even longer tail tipped with a huge spade trailed behind. If the gods came to earth, I swear they’d come as this incredibly powerful and graceful creature.

Horses whinnied. Milling about restlessly, tails swishing, the horses announced their rather intense dislike for the newcomer. Curses abounded as the Kel’Hallans and Corwyn splashed back through the muck to grab bridles, to calm, to soothe. To prevent damage to the only thing that kept us out of Brutal’s hands: the precious legs of our horses.

I cursed. Transferring Ly’Tana from my arm to my shoulder, I grabbed Rufus by the bit. Ly’Tana’s buckskin, well trained and accustomed to Bar, had obviously never encountered a dragon before. He announced his intention to panic with a sharp snort. His eyes showed white, his ears flattened as his thick neck arched in preparation. I caught his reins before he could bolt and break like sticks his most important possessions. Hauled up short, the stallion relaxed, quieted, his flanks quivering and his eyes still flaring white. But he stood fast.

By now, the dragon sailed high above. Bar, after hearing my translation of Ly’Tana’s explanation, also relaxed his guard. Calming, raptor eyes on Rygel, he resumed his short circles over our heads.

The dragon, swept downward, broad leathery wings covering all the earth we could yet see. In a blink it disappeared.

Yet before we could react, or look to see where it went, a red-brown hawk looped up and around, arrowing out of the sun toward us.

When the dragon popped out of existence, the horses calmed immediately. Long equine sighs blew down noses in relieved snorts when they realized they were not on the dragon’s menu that day. I relaxed my hold on Rufus and Mikk, while the others also released reins and long held breaths.

Ly’Tana found a comfortable spot on my shoulder and chirped. I had no spit in my mouth to translate, even had I known what she said.

The red-brown hawk backwinged, its talons grabbing hold of a large stump, free of the nasty water, its former trunk sunk down low. There the hawk perched and chirped at Ly’Tana.

Before I could glance at the hawk on my shoulder, the other hawk vanished. On the stump stood Rygel, safely and fastidiously clear of the water and laughing.

He blew out a huge wash of air that gusted his yellow locks from his brow. We all, even Arianne and Tor, stared, open-mouthed as Rygel whooped and flung back his wheaten mane.

“Whoohoo!” he laughed. “What a rush!”

His amber eyes dancing, he stared down at us, arms akimbo. “Nothing like a good firefight to get the sluggish blood moving again,” he said, still laughing.

“Damn you!” Kel’Ratan roared. “We thought you were dead!”

Rygel stopped laughing, but his smile remained. His cocky, fully arrogant Rygel smile made me grit my teeth. On my shoulder, Ly’Tana squawked, flapping her wings in what seemed like annoyance. I reckoned she didn’t much care for his attitude, either.

“Ah, ye of little faith,” Rygel remarked. “You should know better by now. Did Ly’Tana tell you what happened?”

Kel’Ratan flung his arm toward me and Ly’Tana still perched on my shoulder. “She’s a bird, you idiot! None of us speak hawk.”

He chuckled. “I expect that might be a small problem, at that.”

He gave only a tiny flick of his eyes toward me. Certainly not enough time to warn me or allow me to prepare. So when Ly’Tana’s fully human weight tumbled from my shoulder and into my arms, I fumbled and nearly dropped her into the water.

As it was, she landed, more neatly than I would have expected, given the circumstances, into my arms. She fell tidily on her back, her hair cascading around her face and shoulders, the sword at her hip biting into my chest. When her hand cleared her wild hair from her face, I saw she laughed, her angular green eyes shining into my own. I caught her feminine scent, that hint of lilac, leather and Ly’Tana.

Male laughter rumbled around us, Rygel’s own added into the mix. Caught as I was, deeply mired in that emerald gaze, I could not look around at the warriors who chuckled. My blush crept back up my jaws and into my cheeks. My ears burned. Gods, but I hated blushing.

Ly’Tana giggled. Her left arm wrapped about my shoulders, she brushed my hair from my eyes with her right hand. Then, gods above and below, she nuzzled my neck.

“You smell nice,” she murmured.

Dragon fire had nothing on the blaze that heated my face now. I had no need to look around to witness for myself the amused grins of those who watched. I could feel their eyes on me, on us. Ly’Tana’s own grin told me how she played with my emotions, my embarrassment. What was it with women and their perverse need to humiliate men?

“You are evil, woman,” I muttered, casting around again for a dry place to put her.

“You’re an oaf,” she answered primly. Her lips nibbled my ear.

Her saddle. Her buckskin stallion stood just behind me. Whirling, I spun her in my arms so my hands were wrapped around her tiny firm waist. Setting her in her saddle, I was free to turn my embarrassed fury on Rygel.

“Well?” I demanded. “Ly’Tana managed to tell us you fought with Ja’Teel. What happened?”

He coughed and shrugged at the same time. “He spoke of things that really irritated me.”

He flicked an eye toward Arianne. His lightning fast glance told me everything. Ja’Teel threatened Arianne, his beloved. “Sorry, Princess. Even though we spoke through a mind link, Ja’Teel sensed my anger.”

“I told you to be silent, now didn’t I?”

“So tell us what happened,” Kel’Ratan demanded.

“We found them about thirty leagues from here, camped on a hill,” Rygel said soberly. “He’s got quite an army with him, bent on finding us and marrying her.” Rygel jerked his head toward Ly’Tana. “Again, he plans to kill her and then marry Arianne, to cement his claim to Connacht.”

I growled. The deep throated wolfish rumble started in my chest and emanated outward like a small earthquake. I knew my eyes flattened, for I saw them mirrored in Kel’Ratan’s wide blue ones and in Rygel’s frown of concern. “I’ll rip that son of bitch’s head off his neck with my bare hands.”

“I’ll hold your coat,” Ly’Tana said, her tone light yet underneath held a note of steel. Her hand crept around my shoulders to cup my cheek. I nipped her fingers within mine and quickly kissed them, fighting to keep my rage under control.

“That’s it?” I barked. “You listened to him make useless threats and fought Ja’Teel because you let him get under your skin?”

Rygel coughed. “Er, we heard and saw more than that.”

“What?” Kel’Ratan demanded. “Get on with it, we haven’t all day.”

“All right, all right, calm down,” Rygel said, eyeing me sidelong. “Brutal was expecting someone, an important someone.”

“Brutal called the Commander General of the Shekinah Tongu to explain last night,” Ly’Tana added.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” Kel’Ratan gasped.

“I’m not,” she snapped. “He had with him a cat, a most beautiful black panther.”

Bar screeched from on high.

“I do want one,” she called up at him. “At least that creature can sit in my lap and purr. Unlike some cat-things.”

“A panther?”

Rygel took over the tale quickly, regaining his status as lead story-teller. “Yes. One of the Tongu survived last night’s divine temper tantrum and told Brutal everything. So thusly, Brutal called the Commander General to account.”

“Did he leave the man alive?” Kel’Ratan asked.

“No. He sicced the puss on his own man. For his betrayal.”

“Then what happened?”

“He’s got fifty assassins and fifty hounds,” Ly’Tana added, “ready to hunt us.”

“Just how in the devil did they find us anyway?” Witraz demanded.

No one seemed interested in clouting him for impropriety.

“Not important,” Rygel said. “Just know they have openly aligned with Brutal and will hunt us down for him.”

“Because of the blood oath,” Ly’Tana added.

“Blood oath?” Kel’Ratan asked.

“It’s quite rare,” Rygel said, as though that explained everything. “But once in a great while, someone pisses off the Tongu badly enough they’ll drop every contract they own and pursue that someone until that someone is dead.”

“I suspect you pissed them off rather nicely,” I said dryly. “Since you rather coldly left a number of them, blind, to starve in the forest.”

Rygel shrugged. “They had it coming.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“So they swore out a blood oath against you?” Kel’Ratan asked, his eyes bulging slightly.

“So what.”

“So what?”

Kel’Ratan’s eyes swelled. If they protruded any more, I feared they might fall out and dangle by their stalks.

“Because of you,” Kel’Ratan roared, “we have not only Brutal wanting our hides, but the Tongu actively helping him!”

Ly’Tana suddenly reined her horse into Kel’Ratan’s space. He recoiled, wrenching his fierce blue eyes from Rygel into a wide-eyed stare up at her. Leaning across her pommel, she roundly smacked her cousin on his left cheek.

“Don’t forget, you stupid ass,” she snarled, her hand still raised. “Rygel avenged the insane beating they gave Raine. He avenged their attempted rape of me. They did have it coming, and I for one will defend him against them to my last drop of blood. What will you do?”

Kel’Ratan raised a hand to his stinging cheek, his blue eyes no longer furious, but wide and staring. His mustache failed to bristle. If I chanced to raise my glance from the blood kin to the rest of the Kel’Hallans, I might have found shock. Ly’Tana and Kel’Ratan quarreled often, but never like this.

“Damn,” Kel’Ratan murmured, rubbing his reddened cheek. “I reckon I ought to be more careful in my words.”

Baffled, Ly’Tana sat back and exchanged a confused glance with me.

Suddenly grinning, Kel’Ratan seized Ly’Tana’s hand with his own and kissed it. “I apologize, Your Highness. I meant no disrespect toward our illustrious wizard. I do realize Rygel acted in the best way possible and I respect him, no, I believe in him. As I did then, as I do now, I stand behind his every action.”

“Then why—“

“Ly’Tana, dear girl.” Kel’Ratan grinned. “You know me. When I get excited, I don’t always say things the way I should. Rygel did right and if the Tongu swore out their silly blood oath against him, they’ll have to go through me to get him.”

“Kel’Ratan—”

“No worries,” Kel’Ratan said, still grinning. “You know damn well I’m just more blunt than I should be.”

Ly’Tana leaned in again, but this time kissed him east of his nose and north of his mustache. “I do love you, you bull-headed boob.”

“Ditto, my queen.”

“Kel’Ratan isn’t the only one who doesn’t think when he’s excited,” Rygel said, his voice forgiving and expansive.

If I thought his choice of words rather inappropriate, it appeared I was the only one. The Kel’Hallans as a whole deferred to him as though he was an oracle, while Ly’Tana held both my hand and Kel’Ratan’s. I noticed Rygel’s need for drama and wisely, I thought, refrained from pointing it out.

“Let me,” Ly’Tana begged. “Do let me tell the story.”

In the face of his liege lady’s request, Rygel’s face sagged. Generously, he gestured leave for Ly’Tana to speak.

“You should have seen it,” Ly’Tana said, excitement in her tone and body as she leaned forward. “We were sitting in a snag of dead trees, listening to every word. Brutal had Tenzin shaking in his boots.”

“Tenzin?” I asked.

“The Commander General,” she answered impatiently. “His panther, Shirel, sat at his side like any common dog. Brutal reamed him up one side and down the other about last night and all he did was stand there and take it.”

“The Tongu did act rather stupidly,” Rygel added, his ego deflated, “last night.”

“So then Brutal offered Arianne and me to Ja’Teel as reward for his loyalty—”

“Offered you?”

The growl in my chest rumbled from down low and radiated outward. Damn my temper. The thought of anyone touching Ly’Tana’s soft flesh—

Chill out, bucko.

I sighed and scrubbed my hand over my face. I’ll try.

“Well, yes,” she replied slowly. “Of course, Brutal threatened…you know.”

“I do know,” I sighed, releasing my inner tension. “Of course Brutal will offer his minions what isn’t his to offer.”

“Then what?” Witraz asked, obviously on behalf of those who dared not ask. “What happened?”

Ly’Tana jerked her head toward Rygel. “His turn.”

Once more in the spotlight, Rygel puffed out his chest and grinned.

“Ja’Teel felt my anger,” he said, nodding his blonde head toward me, “when he threatened my queen and my—”

His voice broke as his helpless anguished eyes found Arianne. She smiled, tossing her jet hair from her eyes and burying Tor.

“Quickly, now,” Kel’Ratan said, his eyes on the sun. “We have only so much daylight and lots of leagues to get through.”

Rygel nodded, taking a deep breath. “Their threats irritated me. Ja’Teel felt my anger. He sent Brutal to safety and turned himself into—”

“A dragon,” Ly’Tana breathed, her eyes shining.

“No, Princess.” Rygel raised an admonishing finger. “He turned himself into what he thought a dragon should be.”

“I’m confused,” Kel’Ratan said. “Was he a dragon or wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Ly’Tana.

“No,” said Rygel, in the same instant.

They glanced at one another while Kel’Ratan and I rolled our eyes.

“No, he wasn’t,” Rygel went on. “You see, my cousin never studied the anatomy of beasts to any extent. He’s impulsive and lazy, always taking short cuts. He never bothered to seek the why of things, but craving only their seductive power.”

“So?” I asked, growing impatient.

“My prince, listen,” Rygel said earnestly. “If you changed yourself into a dog, or a horse, you would instinctively know what a dog or horse looked like, correct?”

“I suppose so.”

“Four paws, a tail, fur, long teeth, no problem. You get the tail too short or too long, it looks weird, but, hey, who cares. A leg too short, you limp.

“But with a creature that flies, a hawk—” His slender hand flapped lazily toward Ly’Tana. “Wings that are too short, it doesn’t fly. Wings too long, it won’t get off the ground. Take a creature you’ve never encountered before, how the hell would you know what it looked like?”

“Good question,” Kel’Ratan said, biting his lower lip.

“Consider the dragon,” Rygel went on. “It’s big, is reptilian, breathes fire, and it flies. Right?”

“I reckon so,” I answered slowly.

“But how do you know how long to make the wings? The tail? A flying creature’s tail is its rudder. Again, too long or too short and the entire beast is crippled in the air.”

“I had no idea.”

“Nor did Ja’Teel.”

“So what you’re saying,” I said slowly, glancing at Ly’Tana’s shining emerald eyes. “Is that Ja’Teel had no prior knowledge of how to make a dragon, but made one anyway?”

“Exactly, my prince.”

“And you knew how to turn yourself into a dragon?”

Rygel sighed. “I keep reminding you about my education,” he said, sweeping his hair from his eyes impatiently. “I reckon you all tend to forget. I trained on how to heal, how to change the weather, how to level mountains—”

“He can do that?” Witraz muttered to Alun.

“—how to create from nothing, how to change myself, and others, into other creatures.”

He gestured toward me. “Like turn a prince into a toad. I studied, in depth, the anatomy of almost every creature living or thought to have lived. I know how a dragon works.”

His bright, almost fevered, eyes rested on me. I began to smile.

“Since your kinsman didn’t study as you did,” I began. “He had no clue on how to make himself into a true dragon.”

Ly’Tana stirred, grinning. “Damn, Raine, he could barely fly.”

Rygel laughed. “If he had a proper education, he’d know how long to make his wings.”

“I could fly better than he,” Ly’Tana added primly.

“He’d also know how to create dragon hide.”

“Dragon hide?” Kel’Ratan asked, puzzled.

Ly’Tana chuckled. “Ja’Teel blew fire at Rygel and it didn’t mar his scales. Not even a mark. Yet, Rygel’s fire had Ja’Teel running for cover.”

“Had he understood what a dragon is,” Rygel said with a grin, “he’d know that dragons are, for want of a better word, fireproof.”

“He’d have never turned himself into a dragon to begin with,” Ly’Tana finished. “Rygel’s fire burned him.”

“Ja’Teel gets excited sometimes,” Rygel went on, grinning. “He doesn’t think straight.”

“I suspect your taunt accomplished its goal,” Ly’Tana added, her eyes smiling at Rygel. “You wanted him pissed.”

“Well, of course.”

“All right,” I said. “More explanation is needed here. What taunt?”

“Everyone, I mean everyone,” Ly’Tana said happily, “heard how Ja’Teel threw a stink bomb at Rygel in the great hall and how Rygel retaliated by sending him up to the ceiling. Ja’Teel, of course is afraid of heights. He cried and pissed himself.”

“A stink bomb?” Kel’Ratan asked, puzzled.

Rygel gestured impatiently. “It’s a mixture of any nasty odor you can think of into a ball. He hit me with it in front of the entire court. He bloody humiliated me. Of course, I retaliated.”

Rygel grinned sheepishly. “And, well, I got strapped for it later.” His hand washed through his wealth of blonde hair. “It took nearly a week to get the stink off, too.”

“Why would you get strapped?” Ly’Tana asked.

“When one is the heir apparent, one should be above publicly punishing an irritating younger cousin.”

Ly’Tana half-shrugged, half-nodded in understanding. Kel’Ratan’s eyes bulged again.

“You? You’re the heir to the throne?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Rygel eyed him with disillusion. “I was,” he snapped. “At that time. Technically, I’m a prince, but no, I’m no longer the heir. Hopefully, my brother’s kid is. If he’s had one by now.”

“ That’s what angered Ja’Teel so he couldn’t think straight?” I asked. “Being reminded of an incident when he was what? Ten?”

“Eleven,” Rygel replied. “I was fourteen. You see, Ja’Teel cannot abide being reminded of that incident. Then, as now, his humiliation was seen by everyone. His ego is so very fragile, he cannot abide anyone thinking of him as anything but a powerful force.”

“Now his new pals know him for what he is,” Kel’Ratan said. “He’s a human coward who cried and wet his britches. Why did you send him to the ceiling? Why not turn him into a mouse and yourself into a cat?”

Rygel’s amber eyes danced. “Because he’s terrified of heights.”

“Ah.”

“Know your enemy,” Rygel grinned. “I know right where to poke him.”

“He also knows where to poke you,” I said. “Remember that.”

Rygel merely shrugged. “His pseudo-dragon hide protected him to some degree, but I know right now he’s sporting one hell of a sunburn.”

“You didn’t kill him?” Ly’Tana exclaimed. “You chased him across the sky and still didn’t kill him?”

Rygel grimaced. “He translocated himself somewhere before I could turn him to ashes. I spent some time hunting for him, but I couldn’t find him.”

“Aren’t dragons rather stupid creatures?” Witraz ventured.

“Not at all,” Rygel answered. “Not only are they highly intelligent they, as a race, have quite a noble spirit. Very generous and friendly, if approached right. Even so, they have incredibly short tempers. One of my masters had a long conversation with one until my master said something wrong and the dragon got angry. My master escaped with a burned arse.”

“Conversations?” Kel’Ratan asked, skeptical. “They can talk?”

Rygel gestured to Bar still circling a few rods above us, his attention riveted, like all of us, on Rygel and his lecture. “Bar here is intelligent, yet his language is incomprehensible to most of us.” He cocked his head, smiling, toward Ly’Tana above and behind me. “But Her Highness can understand him. I suspect love has a great deal to do with that. Dragons can speak as humans do. When they choose to, that is. Dragons despise humans and want nothing at all to do with us.”

“But your master made one angry,” Kel’Ratan said.

“Yes. But had the dragon really wanted to kill him, my master would never have been my master. His ashes would have floated on the wind.”

I vaulted into my saddle, sending water flying. “We should cease our little gabfest and start riding. Brutal may have started his search for us by now.”

“His camp was nothing but shambles when I flew over,” Ly’Tana said. “I’m guessing ’twill be a day or more before he collects himself enough to start.”

“A day or a week, it doesn’t matter if we don’t get ahead of him,” I replied, touching the side of her face with my fingers. I included her in my grim look as I glanced about. “Riding through this will take us weeks. Weeks we don’t have.”

“A moment, my prince,” Rygel said, a small smile playing about his aristocratic lips. “I took a bit of time and flew over the storm’s path. Oddly, its damage was primarily to this area and east of here, where it blew itself out over the sea. After about five or so miles, if we ride north, we hit undamaged forest. By nightfall we’ll be out on the open grasslands.”

“But those five miles may kill us,” I answered, irritated. “Look how long it took us to go barely three.”

I knew he wanted to be arrogant and watched him puff himself up for another of his drama sessions. His hand rose as though he set himself for another lecture and his irritating I-know-more-than-you drawl. I’d had it up to here with that crap.

I cut him off with a glare. His mouth snapped shut when he caught my eye. He visibly wilted, his hand came down and he sighed.

“I can clear a path,” he said quietly. “I can’t do much about the water, the horses will have to work a little harder. But they can trot, or gallop, if necessary.”

“How?” Kel’Ratan asked, bewildered. “Can you make the downed trees go away with magic?”

“I won’t have to,” he answered. “Dragon fire will burn them to ash.”

“Through the water?” Ly’Tana gasped.

“Dragon fire can burn through water,” he said, smiling. “As a dragon, I can clear a wide and safe path for you to ride. Unfortunately, if Brutal and Ja’Teel find the path, they can use it, too.”

“Mount up,” I ordered tersely, gathering Rufus’s reins.

None looked to either Ly’Tana or Kel’Ratan for permission to obey me. To a man, they vaulted into their saddles and took up their reins. Corwyn mounted, and once more pulled the stolen grey mare in behind his roan.

“As before, I lead,” I said, turning about to look down the line.

Rufus fretted a little, wanting to run. I held him back as Ly’Tana nudged her buckskin to ride beside me. “Yuri and Yuras, you’re the rearguard.” As one, they saluted me, fist to chest, and walked their horses to their position behind Corwyn and his charges. If either Ly’Tana or Kel’Ratan objected to my ordering their men around, neither voiced it.

“I’ll spell our trail with magic,” Rygel said. “If anyone stumbles across is, they’ll wander about, lost, going off in all directions. That should give us some lead time.”

“What of your power?” Kel’Ratan asked. “Won’t all this exhaust you?”

“Oh, please,” Rygel snorted. “I’m the best there is.”

He bent down, readying himself when Ly’Tana spoke up. “Don’t go dragon until you’re clear of the horses. We almost lost a few when you swooped by earlier.”

Rygel looked sheepish. “Oops. I reckon horses don’t much care for dragons, do they?”

His grin widened. “Don’t forget to tell them about your little discovery, Princess.”

The red-brown hawk took off from the stump with a screech, beating for the sky, dodging Bar’s sweeping wings. I shaded my eyes against the sun, seeing nothing but the outline of hawk wings against its brilliance. One heartbeat passed, then another.

Suddenly the sun vanished. A chill passed down over my arms and chest. Rygel’s dragon filled the sky, its bronze, rugged beauty eclipsing even the sun’s power. Wings that blocked the skyline swept serenely up and down as Rygel’s dragon banked up and eastward, his head snaking under his leathery wings to peer down at us. Flames licked past his huge jaws and the rows upon rows of back-curving wicked teeth.

Despite knowing ’twas Rygel who flew up there, I felt a primal fear, an instinctive urge to run, dig a hole as far as I could and stay there. For what could save me should that dragon decide to swoop down to kill? Nothing. No weapon on this earth could prevent such a beast as this from killing when and whom it pleased.

“Beautiful,” Ly’Tana murmured.

I glanced at her. She too, shaded her eyes to watch as Rygel winged high overhead, flames erupting from his jaws. Rygel held all of them in thrall, I noticed. None of the Kel’Hallan warriors, nor Tor, nor Corwyn, looked anywhere but at the stupendous beast that flew eastward to bank around once more toward us.

Timid Arianne watched with none of the trepidation I felt. Her blue-grey eyes glowed, her lips smiled, her midnight hair flung back proudly from her beautiful face. Of all of us, I thought, she would fear a dragon the most. Instead, she seemed the most delighted.

Rygel lined up behind us, flying as low as he dared. The horses, seeing him come, panicked. As I still held Ly’Tana’s buckskin’s reins, I pulled him close to my knee. My other hand tightened up on Rufus, to prevent him from pitching should his fears take hold. I’d never had to rein him in like this before, he’d faced everything I ever asked of him with calm courage.

Only the grey mare wanted to bolt. Corwyn’s firm hand on her bridle kept her in check and her passengers on board. All the other horses accepted the dragon’s second visit with wide white eyes, sweat and only fearful snorts. Rygel flew over, at a sharply angled descent, his shadow casting all into darkness for several seconds. Not far ahead of us, perhaps ten rods or so, his flames seared downward.

Steam boiled up, white fogs of thick steam rose as Rygel’s dragon fire burned through the water. His huge wings kept him airborne as he slowly advanced, burning all before him. Each long breath he inhaled, he exhaled a longer breath of raging hot fire. Even with the distance, my skin felt as though I had stood inches from a conflagration. Sweat popped out to cool my flesh and instantly dried under the intense heat. I suspected I’d be as sunburned as Ja’Teel before the day was out. On the hot wind from his passage, I scented the odor of burned wood and boiling, nasty water.

“Come on,” I yelled over the raging inferno from Rygel’s dragon jaws. “We ride.”

Tossing Ly’Tana her reins, I nudged Rufus into a fast trot. Beside me, Ly’Tana’s face burned red from the searing heat. A quick glance over my shoulder showed Kel’Ratan hard on our heels, his face redder than his hair. Despite all, he sported a huge grin.

“Let that royal bastard follow that,” he boomed, laughing.

The Kel’Hallans rode in single line behind us, urging their horses into a faster pace.

Rygel’s plan worked. He cleared a path wide enough that three horses could have walked abreast. No tree trunks, limbs or branches remained under the water that washed in to replace that which Rygel’s flame boiled away. Yet, the water only came up to the horse’s pasterns, the earth below being too firm yet to have been turned to mud. We splashed through easily, following the golden-bronze dragon.

So efficiently did Rygel burn away the deadwood, I upped our speed to a canter. Within moments, we galloped. Any faster than that, we would have stepped on Rygel’s spade tail. If we galloped while Brutal’s troops were to carefully navigate the fallen trees at less than a walking pace….

“We’ve done it!” Ly’Tana suddenly crowed, exulted. “He’ll never be able to catch up.”

I stood in my stirrups and glanced back along the line, seeing the water fill in where we had just ridden. There were still enough broken trees about that if one didn’t know of the trail, it would be easy to miss. If Rygel’s spell worked, anyone who found the path where no deadwood lay would be sent wandering. Perhaps she was right. I turned back to grin down at her.

“Our horses have rested,” Kel’Ratan called forward. “His made the trek from Soudan, plus Rygel’s dragon sent them hither and yon. They won’t have the stamina to maintain this pace, even if they get clear of the downed trees.”

Ly’Tana’s red-gold hair blew back from her face with the wind of her stallion’s passage, her emerald eyes gleamed with hope and happiness. Gods above and below, she was exotic and barbaric and beautiful. She looked like a pagan goddess from the tales of old.

I couldn’t help it. I nudged Rufus over until we rode knee to knee. In a move I’d never tried before from a galloping horse, never thought I’d ever have the possibility of trying, I leaned across and kissed her full on her smiling lips. I heard Kel’Ratan’s guffaw from behind me, but this time I didn’t care.

My left hand cupped her neck, my lips moving up and down with the motion of our horses. I felt her curving grin before she kissed me back, her devilish tongue probing mine before Rufus stumbled and broke the contact. Damn you, Rufus. The only time you’ve ever made me curse you.

Ly’Tana laughed. A laugh of such pure joy, relief and triumph I smiled in response just to hear it.

“We’re free, Raine!” she yelled, her hand tangled with mine. “We beat him!”

I laughed with her, hearing from the line behind me male laughter and warrior bawdy jokes. I suspected the release of pent-up tension had a great deal to do with the sudden change in atmosphere, for I felt it myself. The Kel’Hallans tossed ribald jests back and forth, most concerned with Brutal’s sexual inadequacies.

“What does Brutal and a goat have in common?” Witraz asked.

His bawdy answer brought howls of laughter from Ly’Tana, Kel’Ratan, all the warriors and a blush to my hairline. I had heard everything one could hear in the slaves’ quarters and gladiator’s barracks. Witraz’s joke was but one of thousands.

But Arianne? I slewed in my saddle, worrying that the raucous male jokes might make her afraid. Rather than a fearful slave who may have been the butt of such jokes, I found a laughing young woman, one hand grasping the pommel of her saddle, the other covering her mouth as she laughed as hard as anyone.

“She’s fine, Raine,” Ly’Tana said, her hand in mine gripping hard. “You worry too much.”

“Do I?” I asked, lifting her hand to my lips for a kiss. “I reckon I fear she’s so fragile, so—”

“Tough,” Ly’Tana answered for me. “She’s tougher than you think. She’s braver than you think.”

“Not nearly as tough or as brave as you,” I murmured over her hand. “You, lady, carry that title. You always will.”

“Such a courtier,” Ly’Tana laughed, blushing a faint tinge of pink.

“I thought I was an oaf.”

“Don’t forget bastard.”

“Ah, thank you. Oaf and bastard, I remember now.”

Her tinkling laughter sounded like music, sweet music, in my ears. Until Kel’Ratan’s ever practical voice interfered. I gritted my teeth to prevent turning in my saddle and belting him across his inquisitive mouth.

“What did you discover?” he asked, calling forward. “What happened that you’re avoiding telling us?”

One by one, the warriors stilled their warrior laughter and lewd banter. Galloping beside me, Ly’Tana’s happy laughter quieted and her smiling lips turned down.

Damn you, Kel’Ratan. At that moment, I hated him. Hated him for making her not smile. For slaughtering her laughter. For killing her happiness. Damn you to hell for it.

“This is all so crazy,” she exclaimed, trying for a smile. It wasn’t much of a success, from my point of view. “I can’t believe it’s even real.”

“Why don’t you let us be the judge on it,” I suggested.

“And executioner, I hope,” she laughed.

Her laugh held as much mirth as her smile happiness. Something was very wrong from Ly’Tana’s point of view. I hedged a guess.

“You saw something, in the city,” I said quietly. “Something you didn’t expect to see. Am I correct?”

Ly’Tana faced forward, over her stallion’s bobbing head. I glanced over my shoulder at Kel’Ratan, who shrugged, mystified.

“Well,” she ventured bravely, forcing another smile and a half glance at me. “We saw what was left of Adhas’s house. And Adhas. Not much of either.”

I willed her to look at me. I seized her hand, her right hand, her sword hand. Still, she refused to turn her face, the false smile painted on her lips, her emerald eyes brilliant with unshed tears. Her devilishly pink tongue crept out to moisten her upper lip.

Look at me.

She obeyed, her teary eyes meeting mine for the barest fraction of an instant. Another forced laugh choked her throat. “It’s all silly, really. Adhas died and the Whoring Whale lived. There must be justice in the world, after all.”

“What’s this?” Kel’Ratan asked sharply.

He kicked his bay up to gallop next to her. His fierce blue eyes stared down, hard, his red mustache bristling. If he willed her to meet his hot eyes, she ignored that particular command.

Caught in the middle, Ly’Tana tried to shrug. “I just thought it interesting, that’s all. It’s no big thing.”

“Tell us, girl,” Kel’Ratan demanded.

“No need to be so nasty, Red,” I murmured, rubbing her knuckles with my thumb. “Just tell us what happened, dear heart.”

“Oh, well, all right,” she sniffed, tossing her thick red-gold hair over her shoulders. “If you bloody well have to know. Some buildings came down in the storm and stretched across the street where the Whoring Whale is. Remember it? It’s where we had dinner while we waited for Rygel to return.”

“We know, dammit.” Kel’Ratan’s tone hadn’t lessened in the slightest.

A new chill took up residence in my spine. The Whoring Whale with its obscene sign of two whales mating. Where Ly’Tana blessed the innkeeper, and we all choked to rein in our laughter and Rygel came in with Tor—

I managed enough spit for three syllables. “Ly’Tana?”

“It’s all so stupid, I told you, but it’s the only building that survived the entire district and people have a place to go for some real food and maybe a roof over their heads and, you know, the innkeeper is probably doing quite well actually so there’s no reason for worry because—”

“Because you blessed that man.”

Kel’Ratan’s frozen tone informed me my chill had birthed a twin who set up housekeeping in his gut.

Ly’Tana rounded on him. “Oh, you’re so bloody superstitious. You know I have no power to bless or curse someone, I am not a priestess and anyway, I, we, belong to Nephrotiti—”

“Then why are you frightened?”

My soft, kindly spoken question stilled her as quickly and as efficiently as my knife in her throat. I might have stabbed her with one, for all the choked noises that now emerged from her mouth. The unshed tears in her eyes overflowed to drip slowly down her pale cheeks. She swallowed hard to dislodge the obstruction and faked another false smile.

“Because I blessed that man while wearing Osimi’s white dress and now he’s the only one for miles around who can still earn a living.”

Kel’Ratan’s invectives blistered the air, rivaling Rygel at his best. A glance over my shoulder informed me those down the galloping line who had not heard the exchange were told by those who did.

At the far end, Arianne offered a quick ‘I-can-help’ gesture and a plea from her glorious grey-blue eyes. I shook my head and offered a wry shrug, and a she’ll-be-all-right smile. Arianne subsided.

“Oh, shut up, Red,” I snapped. “Be grateful she didn’t curse you as she threatened that night.”

That silenced Kel’Ratan and brought a wan smile from Ly’Tana.

“Rygel said it might all be a coincidence,” she said. “It’s all, you know, rather creepy, if you think about it too hard.”

“We should experiment,” Kel’Ratan said. “Bless me with all the gold in Brutal’s treasure chamber.”

“Bless me with a beautiful woman,” Witraz chimed in.

Rannon cuffed him alongside his head. “Your Highness,” Witraz amended, scowling at Rannon while he rubbed the sore spot from Rannon’s knuckles.

Ly’Tana shot him a look over her shoulder. “You have a beautiful woman,” she snapped. “If you go wandering again, I’ll take your other eye.”

Her scowl included her cousin. “I think I have to be wearing the priestess dress, dolt. Nothing will happen.”

“You don’t know if you don’t try.”

“If I didn’t have to be wearing it, you’d have long since lost your foolish tongue as I’ve already cursed it more than a hundred times.”

Kel’Ratan looked affronted. I laughed.

“Experimenting will have to wait,” I said, chuckling. “We’ve a long ride ahead of us.”

“Once we hit the grasslands, we should keep riding north,” Kel’Ratan suggested, smothering his irritation. “If Brutal is trying to predict us, he will think we continued west.”

“This many horses will leave a trail a blind man could follow,” Ly’Tana argued, sniffing back her tears. “We should stay to the woods.”

“Girl, you’re forgetting you’re geography of this area,” Kel’Ratan said. “Even due west, we will run out of forest to hide in. We’ll be striking the haunted Plains of Navak. No matter where we go, we’re going to be out in the open for most of the way to the mountains.”

“Haunted?” Witraz asked. “Haunted by what, whom?”

“Ghosts, the legend I heard says.”

“Piffle,” Ly’Tana snapped.

Kel’Ratan turned an injured expression toward her. “Aren’t you worried about the ghosts?”

“I’m worried about what Rygel said,” Ly’Tana replied with an eye roll. “Remember? He mentioned other eyes spying on us.”

“Maybe the ghosts are his spies,” Rannon offered helpfully.

“Anything we do is a risk,” I said, gently squeezing her hand before letting it drop. “We have speed on our side right now. With Rygel’s magic, perhaps we can hide our trail.”

“Nor can devil-boy find us with his,” Kel’Ratan added.

“Remember?” I added with a smile. “We have him beat.”

Her smile rivaled the sun. “We surely do.”

* * *

As Rygel predicted, we reached the grasslands, the edges of the endless Plains of Navak, just as the sun sank towards the western sky. We cantered over rolling hills dotted with scrub bushes and small clusters of pine and fir trees. Raising my fist, I slowed our column to a walk. As far as I could see, the horizon stretched under the dark blue sky, many leagues of open country to ride across.

I reined Rufus around to Ly’Tana and Kel’Ratan. The warriors halted in a loose circle about us. I motioned Corwyn to come in close, to bring forward not only his advice but also my sister.

“We should make camp back in the woods a short ways,” I said. “Where we crossed that small stream. Rest the horses and have them fresh for a hard ride tomorrow.”

Kel’Ratan nodded. “Fires won’t be seen as easily there.”

“Where’s Rygel?” Arianne asked, biting her lip anxiously. “Why hasn’t he come back?”

Rygel’s dragon flew high and disappeared when the desolate forest ended and healthy trees still grew, more than four hours past. I tried not to worry, but worried anyway. I suspected I wasn’t the only one. I recognized concern in Ly’Tana’s angular green eyes and the way Kel’Ratan and several of the warriors watched the sky beyond the trees above us.

“He’s scouting for us, little cat,” I answered.

Bar swooped in and dropped lightly to the earth with a series of mellow chirps. He ambled over to Ly’Tana and sat beside her stallion, his lion tail coiling trimly about him. Its black tip flipped back and forth, lazily. I guessed that indicated he discovered nothing threatening riding hard on our heels.

“There’s no one in sight for miles and miles,” she translated, rubbing his ears with affection.

“Did you see Rygel?” I asked.

He clicked his huge beak before turning his head to preen his right wing.

“No,” Ly’Tana said. “But he’ll be here.”

As my bond with Rygel informed me he still lived and was not too far away, I smiled to reassure Arianne. “See? Even Bar knows. He’ll be back before you know it.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth when a red-brown hawk streaked past overhead. Uttering a shrill screech, Rygel banked sharply around with the dip of a feather. He circled overhead, peering down at us from between his wings.

“Bloody showoff,” I muttered.

Ly’Tana giggled, watching Rygel with avid eyes.

He squawked in indignation. Back winging, he flew toward his black gelding, the horse’s reins in Kel’Ratan’s fist. Hovering for a moment, he landed neatly on the saddle. The black gelding was clearly used to Rygel’s magically appearing out of nowhere. When Rygel’s sudden very human weight settled on his back, he blinked and sighed down his nose.

“We’re not entirely out of danger,” he reported, cocking his leg elegantly over the pommel. “Troops are still massing near the river, and more arriving by the day.”

“What of Brutal?” I asked.

Rygel smiled grimly. “He’s restored order, but he crucified dozens of men who panicked at the dragon fight.”

“That inhuman bastard,” Kel’Ratan spat, his fierce eyes flashing in fury.

“He sends a message to the others,” Corwyn said quietly. “He will tolerate no disobedience, zero cowardice.”

“Why so many troops?” Ly’Tana asked. “What, does he plan on invading his own country?”

“He’s a determined bugger.”

“What about the Tongu?” Witraz asked.

“I haven’t a clue,” Rygel answered, biting his thumb. “I didn’t see anything of them.”

“They can’t track us over that flood,” Kel’Ratan snapped. “Can they?”

His question went unanswered, for none of us knew, not even the know-it-all Rygel. He shook his head, but couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

“And Ja’Teel?” I asked.

“I saw him, my prince, but from a very discreet distance,” Rygel replied. “He’s there, but appeared dead on his feet. I think the fight and his translocation took a great deal from him.”

“How long before he recovers?” Ly’Tana asked, still scratching Bar’s ears. Bar sighed in deep contentment, his raptor’s eyes half-shut.

Rygel offered a yea-nay gesture. “If Brutal demands more from him as well as a hard ride on a horse, he may be exhausted for a long while.”

Kel’Ratan scowled. “I still don’t understand how you claim to be the strongest magician there is, yet when you heal you’re out cold for days. Yet, you also fought the battle, flamed away miles of dead trees and here you sit as fresh as a bloody daisy.”

Rygel sighed. “I thought you understood. Only healing magic drains me. It draws far more energy from my body than ordinary magic. What I did today.” He gestured about him with a slender hand. “Is the equivalent of Raine fighting three gladiators in a row. Or you Kel’Hallans riding hard all day. I’m a little tired, but hardly exhausted.”

“And Ja’Teel doesn’t have your strength?” Ly’Tana asked.

“He’s not even in my class.” Rygel grinned. “Nor did he study as I have. My higher skill level allows me more finesse, as you will, with far less exertion. When not studying and working my healing, I studied shape-shifting. That was one of my favorite topics.”

“Turning yourself into something else, you mean,” Ly’Tana said.

“Exactly, my queen.”

I felt little surprise when Rygel cocked an amber eye at me. “A subject I reckon I must be instructing you in, I expect.”

“Turn yourself into a rock,” I snapped. “They are nicely quiet.”

Ly’Tana and Kel’Ratan exchanged puzzled glances. “What are you talking about, Rygel?” Ly’Tana asked.

“His Royal Wolfishness here needs to acquaint himself with what he is,” Rygel said. “Sadly, Princess, he’s in denial.”

“Rygel, braud,” I growled. “I’m warning you.”

“Turn yourself into a wolf.”

“I’ll turn you inside out.”

“Why should Raine turn himself into a wolf?” Ly’Tana asked.

My irritation rose when Arianne, of all people, kicked the grey mare with her heels and pushed her way into the mix. “He’s right, my brother,” she said, her glorious eyes oddly shining. “It’s time.”

I pointed my finger at her. “I’m not above turning you over my knee, little cat. Stay out of it.”

“Stay out of what?” Ly’Tana nearly screamed.

“I won’t, Raine,” Arianne snapped. She flung back her hair in defiance, her face, though pale, glowered with a temper that equaled mine. “Rygel is only trying to help.”

The Kel’Hallan crowd, baffled, confused, watched the anger between us flare. Witraz and Alun exchanged a baffled glance, while Rannon’s brows rose. Left and Right stared as impassive as ever, though Yuri and Yuras smirked in embarrassed confusion. Only Corwyn regarded me with the same impassiveness he always showed.

“Anyone taking bets on who draws steel first?” Kel’Ratan asked the air in general.

“I’m thinking the spitting kitty, myself,” Witraz answered, with a wry grin, half-bowing toward Arianne.

I scowled at them, their humor hardly amusing. Yet, my anger had no effect at all. Not even Tor tried to hide, but stared openly at me. Even Bar eyed me sidelong, eyes gleaming with amusement. His lion tail flicked lazily back and forth.

Ly’Tana’s frustration mounted. Her brow puckered, her usually smiling lips turned down in a pretty scowl. Pointedly turning her face from me, she slowly faced Rygel. Lifting her hand gracefully, she snapped her fingers, garnering his instant attention.

“Rygel,” she said, her tone frosty. “You will tell me, this instant, what’s bloody going on.”

Of course, that fool grinned. His hand to his chest, he bowed low, an elegant move while still sitting in his saddle with his leg cocked over the pommel. Only Rygel could manage such a feat and make it look easy.

“As my queen commands,” he murmured.

“Gods above and below,” I muttered, cross.

“Be silent,” Ly’Tana retorted. “You’ll get your turn to speak. Rygel.”

“My prince is gai’tan,” Rygel said, with a lofty wave in my direction. “He’s refusing to admit it, however.”

“You said that word before,” she said. “Pray explain.”

“Without going into the old legends,” he went on. “Some men are born with the soul of a wolf. They can turn themselves into wolves at will. They are gai’tan.”

“The werewolf,” Arianne added.

“There are no such things as werewolves,” Kel’Ratan snorted.

“Thank you.” I bowed toward him.

“Ah, but you’re wrong,” Rygel said. “Gai’tan do indeed exist and the wolves at the monastery proved it.”

Now Ly’Tana turned to gawk at me, her jaw loose. Kel’Ratan and the other warriors gaped like fools. Arianne smiled in triumph. I rolled my eyes.

“A pack of wolves frightened silly by the storm,” I grated through clenched teeth. “It means nothing.”

“They recognized you,” Arianne replied, her tone lofty. “They paid homage, to you. They spoke to you, and you them.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“They did behave rather oddly,” Kel’Ratan mused, stroking his red mustache.

“If anyone is interested in camping for the night and eating dinner,” I said, reining Rufus around, “they may join me. The rest of you can talk werewolves to your hearts’ content. Here, and out of my sight.”

“Denial is a nice enough place to visit,” Rygel called to my departing back. “I don’t recommend taking up residence.”

“You’ll have to face it one day, Raine,” Arianne said. “You should face it now, before it’s too late.”

Without looking back, I flashed an obscene gesture past my shoulder. Over Rygel’s laughter, I heard Arianne’s gasp of outrage and Ly’Tana’s question. “What makes you so sure he’s gai’tan?”

I ignored Rygel’s explanation, and walked Rufus back into the woods. I listened for hoof beats and horses pushing their way through the brush and scrub oak. Yet, the others remained behind for their voices continued to ask the questions only Rygel could answer.

Soon, the sounds receded into the dim distance. A mile along our back-trail, I found the small stream we crossed earlier. As the trees opened up here in a wide area, allowing plenty of space for grazing, tents and a fire, it made an excellent camping spot. Room and forage for the horses, thick trees all around to protect us from prying eyes.

What eyes? Surely not Brutal’s, for I knew he was far too busy regaining control over his recalcitrant army even now. The Tongu had no trail to follow. No one else hunted us. No one else knew we were here, except—

The wolves know.

Don’t even go there, I told myself sourly.

The fear I concealed from the others under my anger, even from myself, crept out of hiding. My gut clenched. The spit in my mouth dried to dust. My heart beat in hard, thick strokes. Gai’tan. The word I recognized. The name my soul reached for.

Gai’tan.

The werewolf.

Gai’tan.

The Chosen.

I flinched, my mind recoiling. The wolf called me that. What Chosen? Chosen what? My hands shaking, I dismounted and unbuckled Rufus’ girth. He turned one liquid brown eye my way, and nuzzled my shoulder. I am not gai’tan, I told myself. There were no such things as werewolves. Everyone knew that. Even that idiot Kel’Ratan knew that.

In the distance, off to the north, a wolf howled.

Of their own accord, my hands jerked. Loose, the saddle slid off Rufus’s back to land with a thud in the grass. Rufus eyed it dubiously, then yawned, revealing a long pinkly muscled tongue lined with white teeth under the simple steel bit in his mouth. I scented the sweet grassy odor of his breath.

I didn’t hear that, I said silently, my fists clenched. A slender runnel of sweat oozed down my cheek. I didn’t just hear words in that bugger’s yowling. I didn’t. Gods above and below, I didn’t. My hands still shaking, I bent to pick the saddle up.

The wolf howled again. “Chosen One.”

Rather than seize it, I dropped to my knees beside it. Covering my ears with my hands didn’t prevent the wolf’s voice from entering both in my ears and within my mind. “Chosen One. Heed us. We need you.”

Gods, make them stop. Make them stop!

Wolf song drifted on the light breeze. “We call to you. Hear us.”

I clutched my arms about myself, hugging my chest tight, tiny whimpers of panic escaping my clenched teeth. Cease, damn you! I rocked back and forth, my fingernails digging painfully into my fists, but I could not seem to stop. Cease!

The light breeze carried the voice to my sensitive earing. “Hear us. Come, Chosen One. We will teach you.”

This isn’t happening. I am not a wolf. I am a man. I am not a wolf. I am a man. I am not a wolf! I am a man. I am a man!

Trembling, feeling as though I might vomit right there on the grass, I chanted the mantra over and over, like a prayer of protection. Sweat grew from a runnel to a river down my brow and temples, stinging my tightly shut eyes. Or were they tears? Nothing mattered save the immediate need to shut out the wolves with my own recitation.

Deep within my mind, I sought for a door, a barrier, anything that would block that hateful voice out. Just as I blocked out physical pain, shunting it to a distant room until I had time to deal with it, I forced the voices to the same place. Using my terror as a wedge, I slammed home a mental barricade, a solid obstruction between the wolves and my sanity.

Silence descended.

My aching chest reminded me I hadn’t drawn breath for several long minutes. Dragging in a ragged gasp, I breathed deep, choking through my throat that suddenly seemed too tight. White spots danced maliciously behind my closed eyelids.

Relaxing enough to finally open my eyes, I listened with both my ears and my head. I heard nothing but the voices of my companions as they finally rode toward me, their horses breaking through the underbrush. Panic struck anew. They must not see me like this, I thought, frantic. There will be no end to the questions, the comments, the sidelong looks.

Rufus dropped his head to nuzzle my neck, as though asking what was wrong.

Plenty, I thought, but didn’t say aloud.

Pushing my way to my feet, I wiped tears and sweat from my face with my hands. Drawing in a few more settling breaths, I arranged my expression into one of bored neutrality. That should work. See me? No worries, I’m just caring for my horse.

I set my saddle off to one side by my packs and saddlebags, and busied myself currying the sweat and grit from Rufus’s hide. When Rygel lead the way under the trees into my camp, he found me calm, collected and industrious. He grinned.

“I half-expected to find a sword at my throat before now,” he commented, sliding down from his saddle.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Ly’Tana eyed me with concern, Kel’Ratan with speculation, and Arianne with irritation. She hadn’t yet forgiven me my obscene gesture, it appeared. The others trooped in with salutes before dismounting and offering helping hands to Arianne and Ly’Tana. Tor slid down from the grey mare’s rump.

Her eyes wide and knowing, Arianne marched up to me. “You’re afraid of something. What is it?”

Under the interested stares of almost everyone present, I lifted my brow, smiling a little. “I was afraid you all got lost and I’d have to resaddle my horse to come find you.”

Flinging back her midnight hair, Arianne strode so close she was forced to tilt her head all the way back on her neck to see into my eyes. Her hair brushed my chest as I stared down, my chin on my tunic.

“What frightened you?” she demanded.

“I was frightened I’d get Rufus all dirty.” I gestured toward his slick hide.

She stomped a tiny foot, infuriated. “You must accept what you are. Do not shut the wolves out. Listen to them. You have a task to perform.”

“I thought it was to keep you safe,” I drawled, crossing my arms over my chest. “I accomplished it.”

“You have another, far more important. You are gai’tan.”

“Funny,” Kel’Ratan drawled, glancing about. “I heard a wolf howling just now.”

“You mentioned a task before,” Ly’Tana said. “Do you know what it is?”

Rather than answer, Arianne crossed her arms over her meager breast and looked mulish. Her grey-blue eyes sparked with her anger, so much like our father’s I almost sighed.

“I do have a task,” I said calmly.

“What?” Kel’Ratan asked, suddenly interested.

“I must water my horse.”

Turning my back, I lead Rufus toward the small brook.

“You are insufferable!” Arianne almost screamed.

“Incredible,” Rygel commented. “She’s known him for almost a week and already has him figured out.”

My earlier anger and fear dried my mouth something terrible. As Rufus drank greedily from the happily chuckling stream, I lay down on my belly amid the smooth rocks and sucked down the chilling water. It tasted of sweet ambrosia, so cold and heavenly I drank until my belly ached. Kneeling, I splashed the clear icy water over my face and neck, scrubbing away the old sweat.

Nor was I the only one who had that same notion. Witraz appeared downstream with the reins of Ly’Tana’s buckskin, Kel’Ratan’s bay and his own piebald. Rannon and Alun joined us with their own mounts, plus Rygel’s black and the grey mare.

“How’s the water?” Witraz called.

“Delicious,” I answered.

Alun swung his fist, but Witraz spun and ducked in the same motion. With a swift roundhouse left, Witraz took Alun’s breath with a sharp punch to his gut.

Leaving Alun to cough, holding his belly, Witraz turned toward me, arms out. He bowed low, a low showman’s bow he might have learned from Rygel. He grinned from ear to ear, his light brown hair swinging down past his face. “Your Highness.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Witraz certainly held the cup for drama when he felt like it, eclipsing Rygel at his worst.

Leading Rufus, still laughing, I walked back toward the clearing. I clapped a still wheezing Alun on the shoulder as I passed him. I listened to the pair of them wrangle verbally, now that the physical blows had ceased.

“That was dirty,” Alun commented when he could draw a gasping breath.

“I told you to quit hitting me.”

“Learn some damn respect.”

“Respect this, my son.”

“You hit like a girl.”

Still chuckling, I found the camp a busy hive. Arianne and Tor unpacked food, laying out cold meat and rounds of bread onto one of the deer hides collected and tanned at the monastery. Kel’Ratan gathered and stacked wood, piling heavy sticks and loose twigs in the center of a fire-pit ringed with stones. Left and Right unsaddled and curried those horses not yet taken to water. Astounded, I stood fascinated as they even stood in the exact same place beside each horse and their brush strokes were in perfect unison. I shook my head.

Yuri and Yuras, having cared for four more horses, traded places with Witraz, Alun and Rannon, returning from the stream. Alun scowled at Witraz, who fairly hummed with satisfaction. I caught a half-salute and a quick wink sent in my direction. The trio set the horses loose to graze where they will, hobbling only Rygel’s gelding and the grey mare. I reckoned the Kel’Hallan horses wouldn’t leave their masters. They then assisted Tor with the food dispensing, arguing agreeably amongst themselves.

Doubting Rufus would abandon me, I turned him loose to find his supper. Ly’Tana, with Rygel’s help, set up two small tents a short distance from the fire ring. I eyed them dubiously.

“For you and Arianne?” I asked.

She shrugged. “She can share one with me. The other is for you.”

“I don’t think my royalty need go that far,” I said, smiling. “Let Kel’Ratan have it. I’ll be more than comfortable by the fire.”

She sniffed. “You are royal. You should start acting it.”

“I suspect you act royal enough for both of us.”

Kel’Ratan guffawed from his place building a fire. Rygel roared with laughter, staggering away, out of reach, of Ly’Tana’s sudden fury. Arianne, predictably, giggled.

“Bastard,” Ly’Tana hissed.

Seizing a chunk of wood from Kel’Ratan’s stack, she lunged at me, swinging hard. As much as Witraz had, I spun away, still laughing.

A warrior to the core, she followed me, swinging, her attack fierce and furious. Had she landed a blow, I might have suffered a broken bone or three. As it was, I ducked and danced out of her reach, staying just out of harm’s way. From his place just under the trees, Bar watched with awe. He still held his left wing out, frozen in the act of preening it.

Ly’Tana finally swung too wide, leaving herself exposed. I seized her within both my arms, pinning hers to her ribs. Falling to my back, I took her down with me, her red-gold hair cascading over us both. Shrieks of rage and violent curses blistered my ears. Still laughing, I rolled until she lay under me, listening to her call me every filthy name under the sky.

Keeping her pinned with my weight and my left arm, I brushed her thick, sweet-smelling hair from her face. I exposed her green eyes sparking fire, and grinned down into her red, furious face.

“Boor,” she spat.

“Wench.”

I nuzzled her nose with mine, still smiling. That brought a lessening of the fury, and a slight relaxing of her body. Yet her glare might fair split a granite boulder in twain.

“You’re horrid,” she snapped.

“I know,” I replied, smiling. “But you love me anyway.”

She never could control her emotions. Ly’Tana dissolved into helpless giggles, her laughter now as free as her previous fury.

Her humor, as usual, infected me. I laughed with her, delighting in the way her head fell back, her kitten teeth flashing in the sun, her tears leaking from the corners of her exotic angular eyes. Damn, but she was a treasure. She was a gift to the earth from the gods themselves.

Still laughing, she kissed me full on my mouth.

“I hate you,” she claimed, drawing breath for the first time. Still laughing and kissing every part of my face she could reach, she exclaimed, “I hate you, I hate you, oh how I hate you.”

“Ah, m’lady,” I sighed, nuzzling my lips under her jaw as she giggled and hiccupped. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“Good.” Her tone tried to snap, but the sound that emerged was more akin to a squeak.

“Are you two through yet?” Kel’Ratan asked caustically. “If so, there’s work to be done. It’s getting dark.”

“Are we through?” I asked her, my nose a fraction from hers.

“I’m not sure,” she managed to drawl through her breathless giggles. She planted one more kiss on my grinning lips. “Now we are.”

Standing up, I brought her to her feet with my hand in hers. Ly’Tana, upright and brushing dust from her leathers, noted for the first time the spectacle we had just made of ourselves. She blushed furiously. Not the embarrassing, volcano spewing hot lava kind of blushes I always managed to create. She turned a delightful shade of pink. Only women could blush beautifully and make it endearing.

“Show’s over,” she said to the warriors, frozen in their tracks. “Everyone back to work.”

With grins and salutes, they obeyed her. The toil of building a suitable camp for the night resumed. Tor sorted out cold pork and venison while Arianne set a pot of water on a hook over the firewood in anticipation of a fire. Bar preened his left wing again. Kel’Ratan grumbled sourly.

“This bloody wood is too bloody wet,” he complained, striking his flint and steel again. The spark withered and died. He struck again, only to have the same result. The spark would not ignite the rain-dampened wood.

Suddenly, the wood whooshed into a huge blaze. Sparks snapped out of the wet faggots, white smoke belting upwards.

Startled, Kel’Ratan fell back, cursing, diving away from the sudden heat, the licking flames.

He glared at Rygel. “That’s not funny.”

Rygel’s brows rose and his eyes widened in the first sincere expression of bafflement I’d yet seen. “I didn’t do it.”

“Whatever,” Kel’Ratan growled. With a heavy stick, he arranged the blazing faggots to his satisfaction. “Don’t bother lying about it.”

“I swear,” Rygel said, defensive. “I was busy over here.”

“Next time you want to help,” Kel’Ratan snarled. “Don’t.”

Rygel, his mouth comically dropped, looked around. “Who could—”

His tawny eyes fell on me and narrowed. I whistled an aimless tune as I picked up Rufus’s right front leg to examine his hoof.

“What did you—” he began.

I winked at Ly’Tana. “I called fire once before. I reckon I remembered how.”

Ly’Tana fled before the giggles caught her again.

* * *

I lay dying.

Gasping, I struggled for breath, for life, my paws catching, sliding, catching, sliding, off the cold floor of the cavern. The hands about my neck tightened, tightened, their grip shutting off all hope of breath. I snapped my jaws shut, my fangs biting hard into its heavy neck. Its thick, hot gore pooled in my mouth.

My eyes bulging in their sockets, I saw Ly’Tana, broken, lying cheek down, her red-gold hair blackened with blood from the huge gash in her head. Glassy, emerald eyes stared blankly ahead at her killer. At what now killed me.

Where were the others?

Who they were I didn’t quite remember, but knew Ly’Tana and I didn’t fight alone. Most probably they, too, were dead from whatever killed Ly’Tana and now choked the life from me.

Within moments, I’d be dead from whatever had its vicious grip around my thick neck and heavy ruff, cutting off all hope of breath. Just as I strangled the life from the lion so many years ago. I killed the lion and now I paid full score for that sin.

I struggled, trying to get my legs under me, to use my massive weight to break the death grip the creature had on me. Its strength made a jest of mine. I bit deeper, chewing through its thick, corded muscle, seeking its vulnerable carotid.

My sight dimmed, my lungs shut down. Numbness cascaded down my body, down my legs and even into my tail. My struggles were those of a newborn whelp in its mother’s jaws. My panic, my fear grew as the darkness grew closer. No! I don’t want to die!

Despite my thick fur, icy, bone-chilling cold settled into my body, sank into my bones.

The cold fingers of death.

Ly’Tana!

She was gone.

My panic caused a brief stir in my paws, as though I ran from my fear. Yet, I knew I moved not at all.

The hands squeezed tighter. I felt the bones in my neck yield, bend, begin to break. Anymore and they would shatter like dead twigs.

Ly’Tana vanished. Only the cold and the darkness remained.

Snap—

* * *

I woke, drenched in sweat, gasping, dragging in lungfuls of sweet night air, wheezing, the scream snagged in my throat—

I grabbed for my neck with numb, human, fingers. Skin, not fur, met their panicked grasp. I breathed in through a nose not a muzzle. I touched human flesh where a slave’s collar had once lain, not a wolf’s thick ruff.

Relief poured through me like a torrential river.

I was a human, not a wolf.

I was alive and breathing, not dead from a shattered neck on cold stone.

In panic, I looked down at myself, ran my hands down my chest, over my tunic. No fur, no paws, no tail. The teeth in my mouth were not the long, deadly fangs of a wolf.

My ragged breathing slowed as I glanced around, taking in my bearings, calming myself.

The fire burned down low. Around me, huddled in blankets amid its faint glow, the Kel’Hallans snorted, mumbled and tossed in their sleep. I turned my head, my neck joints creaking loud in the silence. Ly’Tana lay beside me, snoring softly, her arm curled under her head.

She’s going to wake with a throbbing arm, I thought, haphazard.

Behind me, Arianne’s light breathing emerged from the small tent. Rygel’s silent form lay next to it, his head on his saddle, his body wrapped tightly in his blanket.

Sweat still streamed from my head down my face. With a shaking hand, I wiped it away, trying to calm the tempest within me with deep, ragged breaths. My throat still ached from the dream/memory of being choked to death by an unseen force.

That was no dream, I thought, rising to my feet.

That was a vision, in truth.

I just witnessed my own death.

My knees tried to give out and collapse me into the fire. I locked them until they agreed to obey me, all the while practicing my breathing. Ah, the sweet sensation of dragging in one life-offering breath after another. I relished it as a starved man relishes a rare cut of hot beef.

When the world steadied, my knees cooperated, and the rivers of sweat reduced themselves to streamlets, I walked to the edge of the forest. My trembling forced me to walk slowly, however.

I glanced up at the stars. They shone down brightly, like the fires of heaven, their movement across the black sky measured and steady. By them, I gauged the time: after midnight, but several hours till dawn. Witraz stood the late watch.

Through the thin trees, I saw him, dim against the faint moonlight. He stared out into the night, his back to the fire’s coals and me, his single eye alive to the night. He hadn’t noticed my awakening in a blind panic.

Ah, good. My nightmarish vision was discreet, at least. I felt some surprise that I hadn’t woken everyone in camp. Not even Bar stirred from his nest behind the small white tent.

The cool, still night air felt good against my hot neck and face as I stepped silently through the scrub oak, the brambles, among the rocks and the trees. A hunting fox bolted from me, when my silent step brought me within a hair of treading on his brush. A horned owl observed my passage, her wide eyes meeting mine as she stared down and I stared up. She clicked her beak several times as though in disapproval.

Finding a large rock to sit on, I eased myself down. With the forest this thin, I could look up and see plenty of stars through the branches. I ran my hands through my oily hair, lank with damp sweat, down the back of my neck to my face.

Never before had I feared my death. After facing it time and again in the arena, I knew it could come at any moment. Sometime, somewhere, I’d make a mistake and an opponent would plunge a blade into my chest.

Once upon a time, I had even craved it more than anything, wanted to die so badly I tasted its sweetness on my tongue, felt its seduction along my skin. I desired its inviting freedom from slavery as an alcoholic hankers for his wine. Death, then, was an old friend, waiting to greet me with a warm embrace and a lover’s kiss.

That was until Rygel came along and offered me hope.

Hope. I choked back a laugh. Or was it truly a sob?

A clean death in the arena would have spared me a long, agonizing death by strangulation.

I will be a wolf when I die, I thought.

I remember my fangs, snapping and biting deep into whatever killed me. I remember my paws, catching and sliding off the stone floor of a cavern. The hands, if they had been hands, delving deep into the very thick, protective ruff around my vulnerable throat.

I shuddered, my breath caught in my chest. I hugged my arms around myself, my flesh pimpled cold despite the hot summer night. That was an unclean death, a dog’s death. I’d die like an animal in a cage.

I’d die a wolf.

I straightened. Gods above and below, if I become a wolf I will die. Horribly. I closed my arms over my torso and bent over them, my gut churning as though to hurl up my dinner at roughly the speed of sound.

My skin broke out in gooseflesh. My chest tightened, my throat burned, my breath came and went in quick, harsh pants. Gods, all I had to do was remember the vision and it brought out a flurry of the shakes.

Why did this come to me? Why did the gods pick me for this cosmic jest? Oh, hey, let’s make this guy a werewolf and watch him stumble about trying to figure out who he is. Ha ha ha. Let’s make him die an animal. Grab a snack and watch.

I sobered, slowing my harsh gasps, regaining some semblance of gladiator control. Maybe it won’t happen. Rygel’s wrong, the wolves are wrong, my gut’s wrong. Gai’tan? Werewolves? Chosen? It’s all so—so ridiculous. Me, how can I be a creature that could not possibly exist?

I released my upper body, flexed my arms, and tried to relax. I forced the vision away, called it a nightmare and found a laugh at myself. It’s all nonsense, really. Werewolves don’t exist.

“You never knew there were griffins, either.”

I stared wildly about, thinking someone spoke aloud, perhaps from behind the trees. I spun around, facing this way and that, trying to see everywhere at once. My night vision at its peak, no shadow remained undiscovered. No one from camp had awakened and followed me to torment me. No strangers stared at me from behind a thick oak clump.

I was quite alone.

Perhaps I imagined the voice. Shaking, I returned to my task of watching the stars, pondering life’s imponderables. Maybe if I never turned myself into the werewolf that didn’t exist, my fate might be averted. While I thought that possible, my gut knew I hoped in vain. Somewhere, somehow, somewhy, I’d die a wolf.

Whether I willed it or not, I was also a wolf.

“You’d best learn to accept it, my son.”

The words came from everywhere and yet nowhere. Not in my ears, certainly. In my mind? Was there someone else in my head besides me?

Scared silly, I wheeled around, my steel in my hand.

“Show yourself,” I grated hoarsely.

Nothing answered save the light breeze rustling through the forest leaves, the faint sounds of night creatures stalking through the trees, sleeping birds rustling amidst their branches.

I listened hard, with all the strength of my hearing. Faintly, I heard the snores of my companions, not so very distant. I heard the sound of what sounded like deer munching on leaves and grass. I heard a rodent die in the jaws of a fox, the crunching of tiny bones. All the sounds one might hear in a forest at night.

My heart slowed a fraction. I returned my blade to its sheath. I drew in a ragged breath, not realizing I had held it for those long moments. Come on, boy. Chill out.

I wiped sweat from my brow. “Leave me alone, whoever you are,” I muttered thickly. “I want no part of it.”

“We don’t always get what we want.”

That had to be my imagination. Of course it was. I chuckled, working spit into my dry mouth. Or mayhap I’m mad as a privy-bound rat. Unheard voices don’t come to the sensible and sane.

I nodded wisely to myself. I’ve done lost my bloody mind. That’s all. This vision of my own death, the talk of gai’tan and werewolves merely screwed up my sense of reality. That’s all. It happened to the best of us.

* * *

Sitting beside the fire after eating hardly any food at all, I stared into the flickering flames. With the exception of Alun, who drew first watch, all of us sat around the fire in moods varying from indolence to sharp irritation. The latter, from Arianne, Rygel and to some extent Kel’Ratan, was directed at me. Ly’Tana seemed not to mind that I had not spoken much that day and ate even less, she offered me silent and strong support with warm glances from her emerald eyes.

A short distance away, Alun stood with his back to the flames, so the light couldn’t impede his night vision. Ly’Tana, her hand in mine, sat beside me, Kel’Ratan opposite. Flanked by Rannon and Witraz, Kel’Ratan suddenly yawned. His irritation deflated like a loose bladder. Bar lay drowsing behind us, so close I wondered absently if he’d mind if I used him for a pillow.

Tor stood up from his spot beside the fire, arms akimbo. “You promised,” he complained.

“Right now?” Yuri yawned. “It’s late.”

“What did you promise him?” Ly’Tana asked.

“He wants to learn to fight, Your Highness,” Yuras answered.

“They promised a long time ago,” Tor continued, aggrieved. “But they never do.”

Yuri voiced his hot protest. “We’ve been busy.”

“Show him a few things,” she said, waving her hand. “It’ll keep him happy.”

With twin sighs, the brawny, blonde warriors stood up. Tor’s delighted grin put the fire to shame for its brilliance. Just outside the firelight, the boys drew their weapons. Yuri gave Tor his sword. A faint grin found my mouth, without my permission, as the tip hit the ground. The smallish Tor couldn’t lift it.

“Here,” Corwyn said, getting up from his place next to Witraz. “I have something that might help.”

He disappeared into the darkness beyond the firelight for a moment, reappearing with a plain wooden sword. “I don’t know why I packed that,” he said gruffly. “I reckon I thought it might be of some use.”

Why did he suddenly look at me?

Ly’Tana snickered, nudging my ribs. Damn it all. Corwyn returned to his place, his blue eyes as wide and innocent as Rygel’s. Damn him.

“Raise your blade,” Yuri said. “No, higher. That’s it.”

As the lesson began, I caught sight of a shadow moving slowly toward us. My heart beat a rapid tattoo against my chest wall as a huge, shaggy mass, silhouetted against the darker shade of the forest, crept nearer.

It paused a moment. Twin green eyes glowed like lamps under the fire’s light. Whatever it was, it passed Alun by without his raising the alarm.

Frozen, I watched as it hitched slowly closer. My alert face, my fixed stare alarmed the others. Ly’Tana dropped my hand to seize her sword. Gasps and curses abounded as the warriors rolled to their feet.

“Don’t move!” I barked.

I have no idea why I spoke thus. The words came from swift instinct, from a source deep within my soul. Its fuzzy outline gave no indication of what the creature was or what its intentions were. Without knowing what I knew, I knew they must not harm it.

My gut said something important was at stake, and that harming the creature was the worst kind of disaster.

My royal blood, my size, my voice of authority, had their uses. The Kel’Hallans relaxed their bodies, but their hands still hovered over weapons. They remained in place, yet ready to fight should the need arise. Always ready for a battle, they were, but I knew this was a contest they stood no chance of winning.

At the commotion, Alun raced back from his post, his sword in his hand. At my sharp gesture, he stopped, staring at the silent shadow. He stood, silent, obedient to my command to remain still.

Rygel came to his knees, prepared to push Arianne behind him, to shield her. Corwyn, too, hovered over her, protective, alert. Kel’Ratan rolled to his feet, hunkered low, his sword already in his hand. Ly’Tana knelt in the dirt, her hand on her hilt, her slender jaw clenched. Behind us, Bar rose to all four feet, his wings half-furled. I half-listened as his tail lashed from side to side, raking the brush. Yet he, too, obeyed me and stood fast.

Of all of us, Arianne alone hadn’t moved a muscle, hadn’t eyed the creature with alarm or fear or concern. She watched with her magnificent eyes wide, curious…teary. Unbelievably, she smiled, a small, tremulous smile, her teeth gleaming in the faint light.

The shadow lurched closer.

From the edge of the trees, it circled, just out of the firelight. Left and Right sat in obedience to my harsh command, yet twisted around on their haunches to keep it in sight. It moved behind Kel’Ratan, still indistinct, green eyes glowing like twin evil lamps. He turned to watch it, his sword pointed toward it.

It moved forward again, slowly, now behind Witraz. As it came toward him on his blind side, he spun and knelt in the dirt, facing it, keeping his weapon close.

I was next. The shape paused, eyes glowed that eerie, strange green. Something fanned the air behind it. I half-noted a faint shadow blurring, moving back and forth, before the low throaty whine reached my ears.

“Lady have mercy,” Ly’Tana whispered.

She spoke for me, for I was incapable of speech.

The huge, shaggy, silver-grey wolf limped closer, into the firelight. She ignored the insignificant humans who sat in thrall. She paid little heed to the armed warriors who might rise up and kill her out of hand.

Her eyes, calm, amber-brown, no longer glowing green fire, rested on me. Her right front leg couldn’t hold her weight. Thus she limped forward on her remaining three limbs. Her wagging tail still fanned the night behind her massive shoulders. Something dangled from her mouth. With the darkness and shadows moving as though alive from the dancing fire, I couldn’t tell what it was. A dark ball, it hung, curled, from the she-wolf’s jaws.

She crept closer.

Another low plea emerged from the grievously injured wolf.

Suddenly, with no warning, tears choked my throat. A wedge of raw emotion seized me in its merciless grip. I wanted to howl. The urge to howl, to throw back my head and howl to the moon, to run on four legs, my pack behind me—

I did none of these things.

I sat, frozen, unable to breathe, as the she-wolf laid her pup in my lap.

Now with the firelight upon her, I saw the damage done to her body. Her right front leg looked broken, from the impossible angle her shoulder exhibited. Blackened, dried blood crusted her ribs and spine, and once dripped down her hind legs. Her wealth of grey fur lay matted and filthy against her scrawny, thin body. Starved, gaunt, dead on her paws, I half-wondered how she still lived.

Her eyes—

Her wise and knowing eyes glowed bright and happy as she gazed deep into mine. I saw/felt her agony, saw/felt how she shoved her pain behind her peace and tranquility. She had discovered both, and safety for her son. Now that she found me.

I knew, without knowing.

She lurched on three legs, her son in her mouth, for leagues. She followed like a scent on the wind my presence, a bright beacon deep within her soul. Onward she limped, nursing her son only when necessary, ravaged by pain and a deep longing. Trailing the only prey she’d never kill.

Her long, wet, warm tongue lapped my cheek, dried the tears I hadn’t known had fallen.

Turning away from me, she staggered toward Arianne. Heedless of Rygel, who scrambled hastily out of her way, she lay down. Her head rested in Arianne’s lap, her enormous furry, bloody, frame dwarfing my tiny sister’s body.

With a deep sigh, the sigh of someone coming home after a long absence, the she-wolf rested. Her agony retreated for a time, granting her a respite from its strident voice. My presence before her quelled her pain into naught much more than a nuisance.

Her lively, intelligent, peace-filled eyes, still lay on mine.

“The poor thing,” Ly’Tana murmured. “What happened to her?”

“The storm,” Arianne answered sadly. Her hands stroked the wolf’s ears, down her neck, burrowed like mice into the long lengths of her silver-grey fur. Like a blanket, her midnight hair cascaded forward to enclose the wolf behind its heavy curtain. Rygel, in order to see, brushed it over her shoulder to flow down her back.

The she-wolf sighed again, in contentment.

“They denned in a small cave,” Arianne continued, sniffing back her tears. “She and her mate. They felt safe there despite many of their brothers fleeing the storm’s wrath. They remained, confident in their security. They guessed in error. Their den collapsed. Her mate was killed by falling rocks.”

Arianne’s tiny hand gestured toward the sleeping pup in my lap. “They are both old, their pack long gone. This is their only whelp, their final son. She protected him with her body from the collapse. Now she is broken and dying.”

“Rygel?” Ly’Tana cried, her tears falling. “Can’t you heal her? Save her?”

Rygel, who had drawn his legs under him once the she-wolf showed no indication of hostility, rose as far as his knees. “Of course, I should’ve—”

Snapping her eyes from me, she twisted her neck to glower at Rygel, her eyes glowing a deep red. The she-wolf lifted her head from Arianne’s lap and snarled. Her deep-throated rumble began in her huge chest and radiated outward. The firelight gleamed on her exposed fangs. I noticed despite her advanced age they were the length of my hand, very white and very sharp.

Rygel froze. He may be the world’s most powerful wizard. He might change himself into the world’s most dangerous animal. But right now he feared an old, dying and lame wolf half-lying on the lap of a scrawny girl.

Her once mild eyes slanted with evil intent, the wolf issued her decree. We stupid humans may not have understood wolf speech, but her meaning was clear: Rygel touch her, Rygel die.

As Rygel sat back down, hands raised, her snarling subsided. The failing she-wolf relaxed once more under Arianne’s hands.

“She’s dying,” Arianne said, her tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “It’s her time to go. She wants to be with her mate.”

“But,” Ly’Tana began, helpless, bewildered. “Her mate is dead.”

“Wolves mate for life. He’s dead and she’ll join him in the afterlife.”

“Wolves have an afterlife?” Kel’Ratan asked, clearly baffled.

Arianne once more translated. “She is old. She wishes for peace and rest from toil. She’s been reborn many times and she’s weary.”

The wolf’s head lifted from her lap, her eyes fixed on me. She licked her muzzle with a long pink tongue around her greyed muzzle and white whiskers. Low whines mixed with growls emerged in a language I understood without knowing how or why.

“She has faith in The Chosen One,” Arianne translated, her small arms wrapped about the old wolf’s great shaggy neck. She rested her cheek upon the old one’s head. “He will save them all.”

The she-wolf gently shook her off, and tenderly swiped Arianne’s cheek, kissing away her tears with her warm tongue. I knew she thanked my sister for her translation and blessed her at the same time. Gently removing herself from Arianne’s arms, the great wolf stood. Her tail waved gently back and forth behind her.

Arianne dropped her arms to her lap. “Good bye, my brave sister,” she whispered. “Fare thee well on thy journey.”

The she-wolf stumbled over to me. For a long moment she licked her pup, her son, who slept in my lap.

He stirred, whimpering, a faint whining on the air. He knew she was leaving him, realized she was never coming back. He struggled, putting weak legs under him, to follow her. He cried out, in protest, a sharp shrill cry of pain. Then he dropped back, helpless, within my crossed legs.

His tiny pink tongue met her huge one as she licked his dark, fuzzy face. Whether she spoke to him or not, I had no idea. Yet, something seemed to pass between them. He quieted, his small face raised to hers as she washed him with her love. At last, under her warm nurturing, he collapsed, and slept.

Lifting her face to mine, the she-wolf’s wet tongue caressed my face. She rested her muzzle on my shoulder. I might have managed to shut out her brethren in the hills, but I could not shut her out. I could not bear to. She needed me as much as I needed her.

Like Arianne, I stroked her ears with my hand, drawing as much comfort from her strong presence as I offered. I felt her pain, sensed her grief at leaving her son, and wondered at her joy for her reunion with her life-long mate. I rejoiced at her freedom, yet grieved her wisdom would leave this world. Her loss would render me lost without her.

She withdrew, sat back on her haunches, and gazed at me. Her right paw hovered midway between the ground and her broken shoulder. Sorrow warred joy in those intelligent amber-brown depths.

“Don’t leave me, wise mother,” I murmured, grief multiplying in my soul.

“I must, dear heart,” she replied. “I grieve for him. I need to be with him. My time here has ended.”

I don’t know how I heard her. Not within my ears or my mind. It seemed that all I had to do was look at her and I knew what she said. I also knew I didn’t want her to go.

“I need you.”

“One will come to guide you.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Fear not, my son. For you are the best of us.”

Her tail gently stirred the dust as she glanced around at the humans, still held in thrall. She gazed long at Arianne, weeping within the folds of Rygel’s arms. She looked long at her sleeping son in my lap. She raised her muzzle finally, her deep eyes bright, contented, as they gazed into mine. “Chosen One, you will do well.”

“But I will die.”

Her intelligent eyes never wavered. “We all die, my son.”

“But—”

“Death isn’t to be feared. It’s but another path our paws must follow”.

“I’m afraid.”

“Have faith, Chosen One. Should you die, your death will not be in vain.”

“Wise mother—”

“I must go.”

She glanced once more at the pup in my lap, then at me. “He’s your son now, my dear.”

“Mother, no—”

“He’ll do well by you,” her eyes said. “And you by he.”

Her tail lashed the darkness once more, a feral grin widening her jaws.

“We will meet again, one day. In a place far better than this.”

Turning away, she stumbled back into the darkness. Limping, alone and in unbelievable pain, she walked, her head proud. She turned her back from the light, away from love and warmth and companionship. Away from the child she died to protect. She brought her lone offspring to the only one she could trust to keep him safe.

Me.

The sound of her paws in the forest died away.

I choked back my tears as Arianne’s, and now Ly’Tana’s, fell freely down their respective cheeks. Even Kel’Ratan scrubbed his face as though trying to will away strong emotion. I saw no few fingers making the sign against strong enchantment beneath the fire’s shadows.

My hand stroked the wolf pup in my lap. Despite the darkness and dancing firelight, I noted his dark grey, almost black, fur. At perhaps a month old, he was also very big. He filled my lap from knee to knee. I remembered hound pups at his age were a third his size. Huge wolfhounds as adults weighed more than two hundred pounds. For a pup just past the age of opening his eyes, he was huge. His mother was massive, bigger than a large pony. I wondered absently how big his sire was.

Lifting his limp, warm body from my lap, I raised him to my face. Ears that would one day perk upright lay folded against his head. So young, his eyes had barely begun to open, his tiny muzzle nothing but a stub of dark grey tipped with glossy black.

Yet, somehow, incredibly, his eyes opened a fraction. His pink tongue emerged to lick his black nose, to further catch my scent. He whined, a faint scree against my sensitive hearing, a delicate protest at this rough treatment.

Deep blue eyes stared into mine. Eyes the color of twin sapphires gazed back at me with calm courage and love. His hind legs curled into a ball, his tail tucked tightly against his belly, he struggled not to escape me but to draw closer to my hands that held him captive.

Within my mind, I heard him speak a word that rebounded within my soul.

Father.