Fear of losing her, even before this journey ended, tortured him. He had one chance to procure something rare and important—a slim hope of finding another way to keep her alive, should the worst come. That was all that mattered. He silently backed away and ducked off the road between the widely spaced buildings.
Chane began running as soon as he slipped from Wynn’s sight.
Wynn sighed, tired of waiting on Ore-Locks’s stubborn bartering. The poor shopkeeper looked worn and exasperated. Wynn turned about, looking down the road at the few people still out for the evening. Chane was nowhere in sight, but she guessed where he’d gone.
He needed to mend himself—to feed. The thought only made her more aware that she’d chosen to keep company with an undead. She closed her eyes tightly, opening them again as a sudden worry struck her.
Hopefully, Chane had gone after wild game. He knew better than to touch anyone here after her warning—didn’t he? How he’d managed to feed on livestock so far without being seen, after moons of travel, was another question she’d pushed aside. He never talked about it, never would, but this populated place wouldn’t offer him many options for privacy.
Would he go after the local livestock? What if he was discovered?
Wynn took a step, peering between the buildings and great trees. She touched Shade’s head and a memory of Chane’s face passed between them.
“Find him—now!” she whispered.
Shade loped off, sniffing the ground, as Wynn hurried after.
Chane pushed himself too hard, and the pain in his side returned. Stolen life gathered by the brass cup had not mended him enough. He ignored the discomfort, but at least his fluids had stopped leaking from his side. Soon he passed through a grove, emerging near the stables where they had first arrived.
Wynn might keep at her preparations all day tomorrow while he was dormant, and then suddenly announce that they were leaving at dusk. She had sprung such things upon him before. These lands offered something he might never find elsewhere. He had to finish one task and return before she began wondering where he was.
He ignored the stables and jogged out of the city. Even as he passed settlements along the way, where a few elves stopped in the night to watch in puzzlement, he kept to the road as the fastest route.
Wynn was gasping when she broke out of the trees behind Shade and spotted the stable across the way. Had Chane gone there?
She couldn’t believe he’d be so foolish as to feed in the stable. They had to come here to get their horses and wagon. What if someone spotted him or found a wounded animal in the morning, let alone a dead one?
Wynn stumbled across the road, looking about in panic, and hoping no one appeared until she could retrieve Chane. Shade huffed sharply, and Wynn almost jumped as she spun around.
Shade stood midroad but no longer sniffed the earth; she sniffed the air instead. She lunged past the stable and a few paces up the road toward the city’s huge tree archway. Before Shade breached the arch, she stopped to look back.
Wynn looked down the road beyond the city to its first hard turn among the trees.
She didn’t doubt Shade, but what was Chane doing? Where was he going to hunt? Or was he just leaving? Had his memory of the night before come back, horrifying him? No, that wasn’t like Chane. He’d followed her across half the world. Even if she chose to be rid of him, it would take effort to shake him loose.
Shade lunged another three steps and barked. A memory of the open plain beyond the forest surfaced in Wynn’s mind. She stared into the dog’s eyes.
How could Shade know this? She couldn’t dip into Chane’s rising memories while he wore the ring. Had he headed beyond the forest? That was at least some relief. Out there he might be alone, unseen as he fed.
Relief vanished quickly—there were Shé’ith patrols out there.
The instant Wynn started running, Shade dashed ahead, leading the way.
Chane reached the forest’s edge in agony. The pain in his side would’ve taken his breath away—if he’d had to breathe. He leaned against a broad tree trunk and didn’t even care that the contact made his skin crawl. As he fully widened his senses, he peered out across the open plain.
He heard no hoofbeats nor smelled anything made of flesh in the low breeze. There was only the grass shifting softly in the dark, and hidden within it was what he sought. He crouched, looking again in all directions.
As he crept beyond the tree line, that sensation of a thousand insects crawling over him faded. His eyes half closed as he stalled. He had become so accustomed to the forest’s fear-laced prodding, trying to seek out what he was. Its absence was bliss.
He moved on, spreading the tall grass with his hands.
Sau’ilahk instantly sank halfway into the earth. The shock of Chane’s lone appearance blotted every thought from his mind. He had not felt Chane’s presence before the pale undead appeared, so Chane still wore the ring.... And he was alone. What was he doing out here?
Perhaps he simply foraged for a kill, trying to find some wild animal to feed on? That did not make sense; the forest or enclaves of the Lhoin’na were better places to hunt.
Sau’ilahk refrained from rushing forward. He had no physical possessions, as such required continued use of energy to carry. He would have to leave them behind each dawn as he slipped into dormancy. But that ring offered so many possibilities.
Chane had gone into a place Sau’ilahk could not. Chane’s true nature was hidden from any unnatural awareness, even Shade’s. With that ring, neither Wynn nor her majay-hì would know when Sau’ilahk finally came for her.
It was too much to let pass.
Sau’ilahk slid through the dark, and not a single stalk of grass caught as they flowed through his black robe and cloak.
Chane flinched and squinted at a sudden glare of white before his eyes. It was almost too bright to look at where it caught the moonlight.
A dome of white flowers sprouted between the tan stalks of wild grass. Tiny pearl-colored petals—or leaves, by their shape—looked as soft as velvet, as delicate as silk. They appeared to glow, though the stems and leaves beneath them were so dark green, they were nearly black where moonlight could not reach them.
Their true use, hinted at in The Seven Leaves of Life, was still a mystery. Chane knew only that their name meant everything concerning Wynn.
Anasgiah ... Anamgiah ... the Life Shield.
He had to learn the secret of that thin text, one more step toward preserving her, if he ever failed in protecting her.
Chane slid his hand along the earth. He reached under with his fingers for the stems, not wishing to even bruise those precious petals. Like his need, they filled his awareness, until he neither smelled grass nor felt the hushed breeze, nor even heard a footfall.
Wynn stumbled into a broad tree trunk at the plain’s edge as she caught up to Shade. Dizzy and exhausted, even in the cool air she’d sweated through her undergarments. She tried to swallow away dryness in her mouth as she looked beyond Shade standing at the plain’s edge.
There was no one out there as far as she could see in the dark.
Where was Chane? Had he gone across to the woods beyond? She couldn’t even see the far trees at night. If he’d crossed, she’d never find him. This was wasted effort, and more than likely she’d be the one to stumble right into a patrol.
She pushed off the tree trunk, but Shade still stood perfectly still, staring out across the plain. Her head didn’t move. Her tall ears stood upright and poised. Her whole attention fixed in one direction.
Shade began to rumble low in her throat.