“Why didn’t you ask?”
Mirza gave him a rueful smile. “You promised to run me through if I ever mentioned her name.”
“I’m surprised you listened for so long.”
“You’ve never seen your own face when someone mentions the woman.”
Ahead, Charra stopped to stare into the Greenleaf Forest. Ancel peered toward the tree line, but saw nothing. He dismissed it as part of Charra’s recent habit of growling at shadows when he was in a foul mood.
“So what’s in the letter?” Mirza asked.
“Not much. We’d spent the night together. When I woke, she was gone, and the letter was next to my pillow,” Ancel answered absently, his gaze fixed on his daggerpaw. “The letter said she had to leave. That there was another.” Ancel’s chest throbbed with an almost physical pain. “She said she may never return to Eldanhill. That one day when I completed my studies and passed the trials, I’d understand. She just left me, as if I never mattered.”
An uncomfortable silence followed. Somewhere among the trees, a bird began a mournful lament.
“Life and love are brutal teachers. Learn, adjust, and survive. Or die. Those are your choices. I choose life,” Ancel said. He shrugged at Mirza’s frown for his sudden statement. “Those were the words she repeated several times before she left. I think I’m now beginning to understand.”
Ancel reached for the letter. At the same time, Charra growled, low and hard. His bone hackles rose into a ridge of hardened spikes, their edges sharp as a newly forged dagger, the ones about his neck almost a foot long before growing less dense and shorter as they tapered off near his tail. Ancel’s gaze flitted from Charra to the woods. Brambles and bindweed snarled through the undergrowth and across stone outcrops beneath the trees. Red cedar and oak thrived. Except for the occasional sunlit patch, their canopies kept the forest in deep shadow.
“What’s gotten into him now?” Mirza nodded to Charra.
“I don’t know. He’s been moodier than usual the last few days, growling at shadows and the like. But this…” Ancel stopped his mare. The horse pranced, and he rubbed its neck until it calmed. This had to be more than just Charra’s mood.
“I’ve only seen him like this when we’re hunting wolves.” Mirza brought his mount next to Ancel’s.
“Wolves wouldn’t come this close to town,” Ancel said.
Charra raised a shaggy foot and took one tentative step forward. He growled again, louder this time. The sound vibrated through Ancel. The horses’ eyes rolled, and the animals whickered.
Stomach aflutter as he peered into the woods, Ancel frowned.
“Listen,” Mirza said, his voice almost breathless.
Ancel did. His brow knitted tighter.
No birds sang. No animals chattered. The only sounds reaching them came from Eldanhill.
The wind rose again, a little stronger than before. A faint smell from some animal, long dead, reached them. This time Ancel found himself rubbing his arms from the chill.
Did a shadow just pass through that patch of sun? Ancel squinted at the spot within the woods, but he saw no other movement.
“Did you see that?” Mirza whispered, his question confirming what Ancel thought he saw.
Ancel nodded.
The breeze passed, and the air stilled. The silence remained for another moment before birdsong rose and other sounds from the woods resumed.
Charra whined, bone hackles softening and receding until they once again lay flat against his fur. He turned and loped toward Eldanhill.
Ancel and Mirza sat there for a moment more, their gazes still riveted on the dappled shadows.
Mirza broke their silence. “What do you think it was?”
“I don’t know. But I wouldn’t worry about it now.” Ancel nodded toward Charra who continued toward Eldanhill. “He isn’t.”
“I guess.” Mirza flapped his reins and started his stallion down the road.
Ancel followed, troubled by Charra’s reaction and Mirza’s earlier words about Irmina. As much as he wanted to return to his old self, he was not sure he could. It’s not like I asked to feel this way about her. It just happened. Somehow, I’ll work this out. I think.
Charra, on the other hand, was another issue. With his erratic behavior increasing, Ancel hoped his father wouldn’t listen to the townsfolk and ask him to leave the daggerpaw at the winery. Not being able to bring him to school was one thing. To do without him in Eldanhill altogether was another entirely. Given a choice, he would rather not come to town at all if it meant leaving his daggerpaw behind.
Of course, not going to Eldanhill presented another set of problems. His need for female companionship would suffer. The thought made him remember today’s rendezvous.
“By the way,” Ancel said, “I’m supposed to meet with Alys after school.”
Mirza looked over his shoulder. “Is this your way of telling me you’re shirking your duties again? We’re supposed to be gathering kinai for Soltide and your father’s winery later.”
“I know,” Ancel said. “But in case I lose track of time, I wanted you to know where to find me.”
“Which means I will have to come find you.”
Ancel snorted. “If that’s what you think, then-”
“Here’s what,” Mirza interrupted. “I’ll do it if you’re willing to make a wager.”
“If you want to lose more coin to me,” Ancel shrugged, “Who am I to argue? So what’s the bet?”
“Simple. I bet you’ll think more with your cock than with your head. I know you won’t be able to hold back. Not with Alys. So if I have to come get you, it’ll cost you a gold hawk. If you manage on your own, I owe you two.”
Ancel grinned. “There’s no way I’ll lose.”
“We’ll see.”
They continued on their way to their classes at Eldanhill’s Mystera.
CHAPTER 5
Ryne sprinted through the woods, tingles running through his body in tiny bursts.
Did Mariel have anything to do with the lapra’s attack as Forian suggested? He wasn’t sure, but if so, he needed to keep her at bay. He couldn’t afford to take an unnecessary risk while trying to save Kahkon. When Sakari located the beast’s lair, the last thing they needed would be her interference.
As he thought about the woman, his bloodlust boiled through his insides once more. The feeling conjured up images he knew too well over the years since he woke. Him, as he slammed the banner displaying the sun with a lightning storm striking in front of it into the ground. Towns and villages razed. The dead stacked in mounds. His Scripts as they roiled about his body more akin to living things than detailed tattoos when they drew on the elements of Mater. How that power had driven him to kill repeatedly to feed its hunger.
“Our power is yours to use,” the vibrant voice edged with darkness urged. “Take it. Abuse it as you will. Revel in the victory our power can bring you.”
No. Ryne slammed his mind shut against the voice. I cannot afford to lose control now. Not when Carnas’s people may be in danger. Not when Kahkon’s life depends on me. Concentrating, Ryne held the urge to kill at bay the way he’d practiced the last twenty years. He forced back the murderous intent by sheer will. A deep breath escaped his lips. Why has my control waned? Why now after all these years?
Ryne cast a glance behind him. Mariel’s form disappeared among the trees. He knew the pattern well by now. If he stopped to pursue her, she would continue to hide, moving more like an Alzari assassin than one of the high priestesses of Ilumni she claimed to be. Why would a Devout venture this far into Ostania? The thought was just one of many troubling him about the woman. He couldn’t remember ever seeing one with such high rank as she without their silver uniform or their full retinue of guards. He considered hiding himself, but at eight feet tall, conventional methods of concealment presented dilemmas. In this case, drawing on the essences within the elements of Mater to mask his presence wasn’t an option.