“Now I know why the courtesans make such good business,” Ancel said, “No complaints, no attachments, maybe-”
“If you think your father’s upset now, imagine if you took to them. Although,” Mirza gave a mischievous grin, “What he doesn’t know couldn’t hurt.”
Danvir smiled, but the prospects didn’t lighten Ancel’s mood. Nothing thrilled him more than the chase and well, the working women didn’t offer much for sport.
“Just promise us one thing,” Mirza said. “Promise to wipe Irmina from your mind for this trip. It’s going to be your naming day. Start fresh.”
“I promise,” Ancel answered. The lie came rather easily. He was sick of everyone’s advice.
A breeze swept past them, carrying with it the chill from the Kelvore Mountains. Charra growled and fixed his gaze on the Greenleaf Forest and its darkened contents to the west. The daggerpaw stood stock-still. His bone hackles flexed before rising upright into hardened, knife-like protrusions. Each row swished into position and clicked. His golden eyes glowed.
“What’s his issue?” Danvir followed Charra’s massive head.
“I don’t know. He’s been this way lately. Restless and snarling at the slightest things.” Ancel attempted to act as confused as Mirza. His bay pranced a bit, and he snapped his reins and used his legs to keep it under control.
“Well, something has him spooked good.” Danvir peered in the same direction as everyone else, his brow furrowed.
“You think it could be…them?” Mirza asked.
Ancel stared at him. Danvir’s raised eyebrows and his eyes shifting from Mirza to him spoke for themselves. Ancel sighed. Their friend wouldn’t give up until he felt they no longer hid anything from him.
“I’m sorry,” Mirza said, his expression meek.
“So out with it then,” Danvir said.
Ancel told him what happened in the Greenleaf Forest. Danvir’s eyes grew round with the telling. By the time Ancel mentioned what his father had begun to say about wraithwolves, Danvir’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“Gods be good. What do you think they were?” Danvir asked in a low voice.
“My Da says the tracks they found belonged to mountain wolves and daggerpaws.”
Mirza gave Ancel a dubious look. “What about the green eyes?”
Ancel shrugged. “He says it was the resinbuds playing tricks on our sight.”
“You never mentioned resinbuds,” Danvir chortled. “Those damned flowers do have a way of changing colors.” Relief washed across his face. “Think on it, if it were wraith-” he glanced around, “Two of you would be dead with your hearts torn out.”
“I guess you’re right.” Ancel gave a weak smile.
Mirza’s doubtful expression hadn’t changed. “Well, whatever they were, I’m not sitting around here if they’re what Charra is sensing now. I think it’s past time for us to catch up to the others.” With that, Mirza shook his reins and sent his horse trotting after the dwindling caravan.
Ancel felt the same way as Mirza. He’d seen Charra kill wolves before. His daggerpaw’s slobbering jaws and the glint in his eyes spoke not only of an intent to kill but of fear. Ancel could think of nothing Charra feared.
Ancel rode after the others, Charra loping next to him, his gaze focused on the Greenleaf Forest.
CHAPTER 14
Shin Galiana Calestis leaned on her staff after each step up the wide stairs to the Dorn’s townhouse. She used the white balustrade and its pillars to help her climb.
Stefan stood on the landing above her dressed in the crimson uniform of a Dagodin. The five gold knots of his Knight Commander rank stood out on his right breast. Above them shone a pendant depicting a sun with lightning bolts striking in front of it-The Lightstorm insignia. It had been a long time since she last saw the emblem. Stefan’s dark cloak ruffled in the chilly breeze that reached down from the Kelvore Mountains. The sword on his hip fit him like a soft, fox fur glove. Years had passed since she last saw him wearing a weapon. Lines creased his forehead as he gazed toward the Eldan Road and Eldanhill’s southern exit.
She couldn’t help but think how much of a young Stefan lived on in Ancel. If not for the slight difference in height, the white streaks in Stefan’s hair, and his pointed beard, it would be difficult to tell them apart.
“I see you have taken well to wearing your uniform once more,” she said as she gained the landing. She shuffled over to stand next to the older Dorn and took in the great Streamean temple, its clock tower, and the blue lights reflecting from the town’s streets and buildings.
“It suits me as well as yours does you,” Stefan replied with a nod toward her own red dress with its white-striped silver sleeve.
Galiana chuckled. “I have so become used to my role as Teacher, I forgot this is what I once was.”
Stefan gave her a wry look. “No one can forget being an Ashishin, Galiana. The world won’t let you.”
Nodding at his statement, she asked, “How did Ancel handle the news of the trip?”
“He’s happy enough. How could he not be?” Stefan shrugged. The breeze died down. His cloak came to rest above his calf high, brown leather boots. “He’s with his friends. He has his parents’ blessing. And he will be able to skip classes for a few weeks while chasing women.” A hint of bitterness carried in his soft-spoken yet firm voice.
Across from them the same blue lamps of Soltide that lit up the town adorned the few homes on Tezian Lane. A dog barked from one of the gardens.
“You would do well to worry less,” Galiana said.
Stefan turned to regard her. The festive lights at the front of his home and the three pillars lining each side of the stairs enhanced his emerald eyes. His gaze reminded her of the breeze, biting and cold. “How can I? His power manifested yesterday.”
Stomach churning, Galiana kept her face a blank mask. “And what happened?”
“Thania suppressed it. Then I stressed to him to remember his training and to control his emotions.”
“Good.”
“Good?” Stefan’s face darkened with anger. “How so? He needs supervision. You said yourself he’s lost his focus. Yet you asked to allow him to go to Randane. To be away from those who can train him. To be away from those who can show him the path he needs to take. Away from those who can protect him.” The tight lines about Stefan’s jaw eased, and his eyes shone wetly. “I’ll not lose a second family, Galiana.”
“Sometimes, the best course of action is inaction. Sometimes, the best way to guide is not to guide.”
Somewhere in Eldanhill, a smith’s hammer clanged. Someone had stayed up late to finish their work.
“Quotes from the Disciplines?” Stefan snorted. “I’m no longer your student.”
Galiana smiled. Stefan had always been stubborn. “You will always be my student.”
“I doubt you understand.”
“Oh?”
The cold breeze picked up, rattling a wind vane. Galiana pulled her cloak tighter, huddling into its comforting folds.
“I watch my son every day.” Stefan stared off at nothing. “The way he mopes around. His apparent disinterest when I teach him the sword. His mood swings that are sometimes worse than Charra’s. I see it all. He’s not been the same since Irmina left. Or should I say since you and Jerem sent Irmina away. You need to bring her back. She gave my boy a stability he now lacks.”
“Some would say the same about me with this.” Galiana straightened with ease and raised her staff. “He will manage without her. Besides, her current mission is unavoidable and too important.”
Stefan shook his head. “You’ve always been one to deceive with appearances, but I know what I see in him. He needs her.”
“He does, I admit. But not in the way you think. If she fails her task, Ancel’s stability will no longer be in question. His life will be forfeit.”
“And if she succeeds?”
“Then he stands a chance when the time comes.”
“And if harm should befall him on this trip, none of these plans will be of consequence.” Stefan paced to the other side of the landing, his broad back to her. “You should’ve let me accompany him.”