Into the Wind by Shira Anthony Page A

The only sleep Ian had gotten—if you could call it that—was a few minutes when he’d closed his eyes as his men boarded the launch, headed into Gate Town. He’d nearly gone himself; only Renda had made him see the impulsiveness of his actions.
    “It’s one thing to take to the water to look for him. It’s quite another to wander around in town. If the humans truly are in league with Seria and the Council,” Renda told him, “they’ll be looking for you. They’ll know the ship is here somewhere. And if they find you—”
    “I can’t stay here,” he said, cutting across Renda. “If Taren is injured… lost… I’d never forgive myself for waiting and doing nothing.” He spoke the truth. He grieved Crian’s death and blamed himself for the loss. He found it too easy to imagine himself grieving Taren’s death, too easy to imagine what Crian’s family might feel when they learned his fate.
    “You’re hardly doing nothing. You know he’s well—you sense his presence. But if the enemy knows you’re looking for him, you could risk the very thing you wish to protect. Your actions might reveal him.”
    Taren. Ian lifted Taren’s jacket from the bed and brought it to his lips. Taren’s scent lingered on the wool. Ian inhaled deeply and conjured the image of Taren smiling as he splashed about in the waves. Be safe. Come back to me. He didn’t know how he’d survive if Taren didn’t return.
    When had the walls around his heart crumbled?
    He sat down on the edge of the bed and breathed Taren’s essence in once again. The temptation to dive from the ship, transform, and look for Taren again was more than he could bear. But he wouldn’t leave again. He couldn’t. Thirty-nine—no, thirty-eight souls, now—depended upon him. His crew had left their families behind on Ea’nu and returned his ship to him. They’d risked their lives to mutiny. They’d given him their loyalty, and he owed them at least the same. He couldn’t leave them for one man, even the one man he’d willingly die for… again.
    Damn duty.
    The knock on the door to the cabin startled him back to himself. “Come.”
    “I was wrong to speak so harshly to you,” Renda said as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
    Ian shook his head. “No, you weren’t. You reminded me of my duty. My responsibility.”
    Renda sighed. “I don’t envy your lot.”
    “I chose this,” Ian said evenly.
    “He will return to you. But not because you hold his leash.” Renda shook his head and laughed. “Much as I know you might be tempted to put a collar on him. He’ll return to you because he loves you.”
    If the goddess wills it , Ian added silently.
    That night, for the first time since Taren left, Ian slept. In his hands, he clutched Taren’s jacket. He imagined Taren lay beside him as the warm breeze blew through the open aft windows. The familiar sensation of the ship rocking beneath him gave way to dreams.
    Ian walked along a deserted beach. The sand felt warm beneath his feet. Flowering vines scented the air as the breeze caressed his face.
    “Ian.” Taren’s voice sounded like a whisper from afar, but when Ian turned to look, he saw Taren running toward him, barefoot in the sand.
    Ian didn’t hesitate. He opened his arms and sighed as Taren accepted his embrace. “I’ve missed you… feared for you,” Ian said in a whisper. He pulled Taren’s head against his own, felt the silk of his hair between his fingers, and let his eyes drift closed so that he might better appreciate the weight of Taren’s body against his and Taren’s enticing scent. What did it matter if this was just a dream? Taren felt real.
    “You needn’t fear for me.” Taren pulled away and clasped Ian’s face in his hands. “I’m safe. I promise I’ll return to you soon.”
    “Swear it.”
    “I swear it.” Taren kissed him, then took his hand and motioned him to sit before joining him on the warm sand.
    The breeze from the ocean surrounded and