Call of the Kings by Chris Page

that one step nearer and they were in big trouble. Eventually Tara had to command them to go back to their owner on the premise they could come back and play with her whenever their hunting services were not required.
    Besides, little girls need their sleep, and at the time she was just four years old.
    It got so bad that Flynn Deira had to pen the dogs up when they were not hunting because as soon as they saw an opening, they would be off to seek out their beloved little Tara. And on many an occasion Katre received the fright of her life when the pair of huge dogs padded expectantly into her hovel in search of her daughter.
    Following their visit to Donnchadh O’Brain’s circular palace, Twilight and Tara suddenly appeared alongside Flynn Deira’s dog pens. There were eight dogs in the pen and every single one of them started howling as soon as they saw her. Climbing to their hind legs, they towered above Tara around the outer fence as they scrabbled and snapped at each other to get at the tiny hand she offered them.

    ‘Those are the pair that used to come and visit me,’ she said, pointing out the two biggest animals. ‘They are the mother and father of the rest of them here.’
    She turned away from the noisy dogs and addressed Twilight.
    ‘Do they know they are in ligamen to me?’
    ‘Oh yes. They have known for a long time. Probably, as with my pica, before we were born.’
    ‘But I only chose them yesterday.’
    ‘That’s true, but for all the choices you could have made, you are still dancing to human tunes and timescales and, although we like to think such decisions are made by us, in truth they’re not. Animals move to altogether different rhythms involving preordination and eventuality. They knew their very own veneficus was coming. It was just a matter of time.’
    ‘What if I’d chosen the swans?’
    ‘Then we would be with them right now and they’d be just as happy as these wolfhounds. In the meantime they will wait.’
    ‘So every animal gets a veneficus eventually?’
    ‘Only those who deserve it,’ said the old enchanter obliquely.
    ‘I don’t understand,’ Tara said simply, stroking the floppy ear of one of the younger wolfhounds.
    ‘You will . . . eventually,’ said Twilight, pointing toward the stone manor house. ‘In the meantime you had better think up a reason for removing this man’s beloved animals.’
    Tara followed his pointing finger and saw Flynn Deira and six of his men striding purposefully toward them.
    ‘Easy,’ said Tara, opening the heavy gate of the pen with a slight movement of her index finger. As the eight dogs sprang out of the open pen, Tara muttered a few words to them and waved the same index finger in a line across the front of where they stood. The dogs sprang into a straight line between them and the advancing Flynn Deira and his men. As the men hesitated, eight sets of dripping jowls opened and ferocious snarls began to rumble in their throats. The wolfhounds’ bodies tensed, ready to jump at their former master and his men.
    ‘Whoa there!’ A surprised Flynn Deira held his hand up and they came to a sudden stop.
    ‘Not you again,’ he said resignedly, eyeing Tara. ‘I thought I’d seen the back of you, my girl, and got my dogs back to myself.’
    Tara smiled at him sweetly. ‘You can have six of them. I only want two.’ ‘Which two?’ Flynn Deira glared down at her.
    ‘Those.’ Tara pointed to the older mother and father pair. ‘Your old playmates, eh,’ said the huntsman. ‘I ought to have known it. I suppose they’ll all bite my head off if I don’t agree?’
    Tara smiled again and sort of shrugged. ‘What do I get in return?’ ‘Something,’ said Tara mysteriously, ‘to hunt in your forest that you’ve never hunted before. A particularly fierce, difficult, and secretive animal that few have ever seen let alone hunted.’ ‘What animal is that?’ Flynn Deira showed his interest by the gleam in his eye.
    ‘A lynx,’ said