Chapter Nine

“Calanthe—”

Ryuan and Tamel spoke at once, stopped at the same time. Ryuan twisted his wrists in the impossible hope that this time the manacles would break. He longed to take his wolf-shape.

Calanthe said to Tamel, “This is the prince’s hunter. Yes, I freed him.”

He must have seen something in her face, or even the muss of her hair. “The two of you…”

“Yes.”

“No wonder you wouldn’t have me afterward.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m glad you didn’t. In love with one of the wolf-born!”

“Your quarrel is with me, sorcerer,” Ryuan said.

“You did as you were commanded,” Tamel said dismissively. “You can do no more, no less. But you—” He reached out and touched Calanthe’s cheek. “You betrayed me.”

She turned her head away, causing his fingers to fall away. “My heart is mine to give.” But her face was pale.

He curled his rejected hand into a fist. Ryuan started forward, but instead of trying to hit Calanthe, the sorcerer flung his hand at Ryuan.

The world exploded, but Ryuan braced against it. The manacles burned his skin as they picked up the heat, but when his vision cleared from the burst of scarlet, he found himself standing otherwise unharmed on scorched ground.

Ryuan began closing the distance between them. “Even in the shape of a man I can kill you,” he said.

Tamel tried again, this time sweeping up both arms. A gale struck with hammer-force, cracking the walls and tearing the roof away.

Ryuan threw his body over Calanthe’s, trying to shield her from the wind-tossed debris. The wind filled his ears with an unrelenting howl. He gritted his teeth and bore it out, knowing that Tamel was in the eye of this wind-storm.

When the air finally stilled, it took Ryuan a long moment to move. He had clenched his muscles so tightly they protested even as he turned his head to look about him.

The sky was open above them. The building had been ripped from the earth, but they still remained.

“Whoever created you was powerful indeed,” Tamel said between long breaths. He looked older, face creased with strain.

There were scattered cries around them, and Ryuan saw people scrambling to their feet and fleeing. One woman ran toward them instead, the one called Iril. She caught sight of him and wheeled on Calanthe as she struggled to her feet. “Why did you let him go?”

“He is the prince’s hunter,” Calanthe said. “And I couldn’t bear the sight of him in chains.”

Iril’s eyes widened and she grabbed Tamel’s elbow. “You whipped the prince’s hunter?”

“You caught him,” he reminded her, jerking his arm back.

“You’re raising a wind-storm on him fit to blow away all the sands of the desert!”

Ryuan felt as though his back had been scoured by those sands. The lash-mark throbbed. He did not let these things stop him from standing and hurtling toward Tamel.

“No!” Iril stood in the way, and it was not her throat that Ryuan wanted to crush. He tried to fling her out of the way but she clung to him stubbornly. He finally tossed her aside, harder than he had wished to, but then he saw how Tamel had circled around and seized Calanthe.

“My sorcery may not work on you,” Tamel said, “but it will on her.”

Ryuan stilled, the wild-mind snapping away. He could not endanger Calanthe.

She smelled afraid, but when she looked at him he saw no surrender in her face.

“You would not kill a woman you once loved,” Ryuan said.

“When she loves me no longer?” He pressed his face into her hair, inhaling. “Go on, pretend you are my master. Tell me what I won’t do, wolf-born.”

Ryuan’s senses alerted him. “You won’t survive this,” he said.

A shadow moved. Silently, Nerav sprung upon Tamel. He had time for a single scream, echoed by Iril, before that scream was ripped out of his throat. His body folded to the ground.

Ryuan was still breathing hard, still focused on that mangled body, but it remained unmoved by even the barest breath. The sorcerer was dead. He could go back to Kaen with his mission completed at last—and yet it had been another who had fulfilled it. He felt cheated of his prey.

What mattered was that it was done, and Calanthe was safe. He calmed himself with an effort and started to go to her, then stopped. Iril knelt by Tamel’s body, weeping. But what caught his attention was the tear that fell from another’s eye—Calanthe’s.

The wolf stepped back, and then it was Nerav in man-shape who laughed. “You mourn him, when he threatened to kill you?”

Ryuan waited for her answer.

“We meant something to each other once,” she said softly. “I didn’t think he would be able to bring himself to harm me.”

“Do you truly believe sorcerers can care for others, when our lives are but brief sparks in the span of theirs?”

Iril looked up. “He loved me,” she said. But her face was drawn, and her voice hollow.

“He used you,” Nerav said. “A builder for his city, where he could rule over minor sorcerers with their petty powers. You were but the first among his subjects.” He took a step toward her. “Sorceress.”

“You’ll not have me or this city,” Iril said, and she flung out her arms.

The walls trembled.

“Move!” Ryuan pushed his shoulder into Calanthe’s back, startling her into motion. They ran, all of them save Iril, united in direction by this sudden new threat.

Slowly at first, the stones began to edge out of their places in the walls. Somewhere behind them a building crashed down, and they felt it as much as heard it. Then another building, and another, until it was a continuous rumbling and the ground they ran upon did not stop trembling.

Ryuan saw to his relief that the gate was still standing, but it began to tilt just as they came near. He threw his body across the threshold, only vaguely aware of Calanthe and Nerav doing the same. Then there came a waterfall of rock, tumbling down in a great roar. Ryuan couldn’t see through the thick curtain of dust raised, and he gasped and coughed even as his bruised body ached against any motion. He could still hear the grind of great stones settling, as though the city shared Iril’s death-throes.

“She killed herself,” Ryuan said, stunned.

“She lost what she lived for,” Calanthe said. Her eyes were shadowed with grief, and he gathered her close. But she moved restlessly out of the circle of his arms to approach the other wolf-born.

Nerav stared at the pile of rubble, clearly regretting that the kill was not his to claim. Ryuan knew how he felt.

“Nerav,” Calanthe said. “The one with a gift for animals. You were the one who murdered all those people?”

“They had the old gifts,” Nerav explained patiently. “They always abuse their power, as they did in the days when they created the wolf-born as slaves and heedlessly cast away their lives.”

“And so you kill the ones who weren’t even alive when the Law of Century was formed?”

“I wouldn’t have bothered normally,” Nerav said. “But gathering in a city, under the rule of a sorcerer? They would have turned dangerous. Now they’re scattered and afraid to use their sorcery. This is best. They won’t dare to flock together again.”

“So your task is done.”

He turned not to her, but to Ryuan. “There is a sorceress we must deal with now.”

“Calanthe has no power,” Ryuan said, bristling. “And Iril must be dead under that.”

“I didn’t mean her,” Nerav said. “I speak of the prince’s lady mother.”

His mother. “A sorceress?” he demanded.

“Did you think she found you as a cub and spirited you off to the capital?” The wolf-born laughed. “She created you.”

Ryuan shook his head. His mother, who had cared for his and Kaen’s childhood hurts and dealt with their early squabbles with an even hand? She had treated him no differently than her own son. Not like a creation. And there had never been a breath of sorcery around her. “She can’t be.”

Nerav looked at him searchingly. “I would not lie to you, cousin.”

Neither could Ryuan see any reason for Nerav to construct this accusation. “Whatever the truth is,” he said, “I won’t let you kill her.”

“Your capital is too well-guarded. You must guide me inside.”

“Did you not hear what I said?”

“Yes,” Nerav said, and moved casually, almost lazily, to settle a hand on Calanthe’s shoulder. “So. You value her life as well, no?”

Before Ryuan could reach him Nerav would be able to unsheathe his claws there, so close to her neck. Ryuan choked back the wild-mind rising within him. “You would kill an innocent?”

“You forget. I killed many, men and women and sorcerers all, during the wars. What is one more, if it means I can reach my prey?”

Ryuan tasted defeat. “Let her go. I’ll take you to the capital.”

Nerav released her but took up her hand. “A single drop,” he said, then before Ryuan could say anything, he let his claws emerge and pricked her fingertip. Crimson welled forth, and he delicately licked it away.

Ryuan lunged forward, but Nerav kicked him just hard enough to swing him off-center. When Calanthe tried to slam her elbow into his throat, he moved smoothly to one side, then let her momentum carry her off-balance. He seized her wrist, twisted, and held her in an arm-lock from behind.

Ryuan froze. He could see how Calanthe’s mouth was set against any expression of pain. She was angry, not frightened, but he felt fear, for he knew how easily Nerav could kill her.

“I let you try that,” Nerav said calmly, “so that you can see how futile such attempts are. From here, I could shift to have fangs and tear out your throat, but even if you ran, I would find you. I know the taste of your blood, Calanthe.”

Ryuan said hoarsely, “Do as he says, Calanthe.”

She nodded slowly.

Nerav released her. “I’ll stay as a wolf while we travel,” he said, and Ryuan remembered how he had remained in that shape when they had first met, to hold the advantage.

“You’ll have to take man-shape to enter the capital,” Ryuan said.

Nerav held up a chain. His signet gleamed upon it. “I did promise you this back.” He slipped it over his own head. “But I’ll keep wearing it for now. No one will question the prince’s hunter bringing in two captives. Keep your head down and your face covered. If someone recognizes you, he will die.”

Once, this usurpation would have caused him to launch into an immediate attack. But there was Calanthe to think of.

Ryuan awkwardly reached back with both hands over one shoulder to flip up his hood. The signet was a powerful enough symbol that no one would doubt it, and he had no hope that anyone would actually realize that the wolf did not resemble Ryuan. He rarely showed that shape in the capital, to keep the people from becoming fearful of him.

They left the ruins of the city, silent, dust still filtering down. Ryuan was not so sure there was not more ruin ahead.