he could build between her body and the tiny spark of her soul.
Chapter Seven
Rhiain boldly entered Gatetown, loping between
timber-and-thatch cottages. Having no desire to either terrify little children
or be pricked with arrows, she’d learned to approach most towns with caution,
but Gatetown was the home of Shandy House. The people here merely moved aside
for her. One cheerful boy smiled and waved.
When her destination came into sight, Rhiain slowed, suddenly
wondering if her mother might be in residence. Second thoughts struck. What
would her mother say when she found out Rhiain had been careless enough to let a
prisoner spear her?
Rhiain paused in the dusty street. If she hadn’t promised Lance
she’d deliver a message to Dyl, she might’ve turned around. Instead she sniffed
the air, relieved when she didn’t catch the musky leopard scent of her mother.
Dyl’s wolf scent teased her nostrils. Fresh.
Encouraged, she padded up to the barn-like front door of Shandy
House and gave a polite rumble to announce her presence.
The bottom half banged open, and Dyl’s youngest granddaughter,
Leora, spilled out. “Rhiain!” the six-year-old girl yelled. She fearlessly ran
up to Rhiain, yellow braids bouncing. “Can I ride on your back?”
“Hmmm.” Rhiain pretended to think about it. “I suppose.”
Small hands grabbed her mane, and Leora swung herself up onto
Rhiain’s broad back.
Rhiain stalked forward, careful not to let Leora fall. “I’m
looking for you grrrandfather. Is he inside?”
“Oh, yes. Mama’s making dumplings today, and you know how he
loves dumplings.” A giggle. “He says we’ll never get rid of him if Mama keeps
cooking like this.”
Rhiain made a mental note to say she’d just hunted. She’d
chosen to become a shandy at Leora’s age. The human food she remembered had been
watery, tasteless gruel, nothing like the rich taste of fresh meat. She didn’t
miss cooked food at all, but Dyl had chosen to Change after he turned thirty,
and he still hankered after certain dishes.
Leora’s mother waved at them through the window, but didn’t
come out. Rhiain did a slow circuit of Shandy House and quickly attracted other
little riders. Soon three of them bounced on her back. “Faster, faster!” the
smallest boy urged her.
“No, Daniel,” Leora told him. “Grandpa says it’s not safe to go
fast.”
“When I grow up, I’m going to run the fastest,” the boy said.
“I’m going to be a shandy like Grandpa.”
“A wolf shandy?” Rhiain felt a pang. There were getting to be
quite a crew of wolf shandies. Both of the newest-Changed, from the invasion two
months ago, had chosen wolf form. If he didn’t change his mind, Daniel would
make six.
There were only two cat shandies, Rhiain and her mother, and
they didn’t even look like the same species. Rhiain was a racha, mostly. She’d
found out afterward that only male rachas were supposed to have manes, though
hers was more like a woman’s hair, the same tawny colour as her fur. Her mother
had modeled her form on the smaller leopard. She had spots and could hide
well.
Rhiain had liked being unique when she was a girl, but now it
felt...lonesome.
Lance intended to ask Dyl to accompany him on the dangerous
trip into the Republic of Temboria. If Dyl accepted, then he would be the one to
set an example for the Gotians. A wolf example.
Resentment surged through her. How was she ever going to find a
mate if there were no other cat shandies?
It wasn’t fair.
And so, instead of passing on Lance’s request that Dyl travel
with him, she found herself telling Dyl that she would be accompanying Lance and
Sara to the Republic.
* * *
Lance sent Rhiain ahead to Shandy House instead of going
in person because he was footsore, tired and filthy. He needed a bath.
And so did Sara.
The mere thought of Sara in conjunction with a bath spiked his
internal temperature as they entered the inn’s shady courtyard. He tried to
distract himself
Chapter Seven
Rhiain boldly entered Gatetown, loping between
timber-and-thatch cottages. Having no desire to either terrify little children
or be pricked with arrows, she’d learned to approach most towns with caution,
but Gatetown was the home of Shandy House. The people here merely moved aside
for her. One cheerful boy smiled and waved.
When her destination came into sight, Rhiain slowed, suddenly
wondering if her mother might be in residence. Second thoughts struck. What
would her mother say when she found out Rhiain had been careless enough to let a
prisoner spear her?
Rhiain paused in the dusty street. If she hadn’t promised Lance
she’d deliver a message to Dyl, she might’ve turned around. Instead she sniffed
the air, relieved when she didn’t catch the musky leopard scent of her mother.
Dyl’s wolf scent teased her nostrils. Fresh.
Encouraged, she padded up to the barn-like front door of Shandy
House and gave a polite rumble to announce her presence.
The bottom half banged open, and Dyl’s youngest granddaughter,
Leora, spilled out. “Rhiain!” the six-year-old girl yelled. She fearlessly ran
up to Rhiain, yellow braids bouncing. “Can I ride on your back?”
“Hmmm.” Rhiain pretended to think about it. “I suppose.”
Small hands grabbed her mane, and Leora swung herself up onto
Rhiain’s broad back.
Rhiain stalked forward, careful not to let Leora fall. “I’m
looking for you grrrandfather. Is he inside?”
“Oh, yes. Mama’s making dumplings today, and you know how he
loves dumplings.” A giggle. “He says we’ll never get rid of him if Mama keeps
cooking like this.”
Rhiain made a mental note to say she’d just hunted. She’d
chosen to become a shandy at Leora’s age. The human food she remembered had been
watery, tasteless gruel, nothing like the rich taste of fresh meat. She didn’t
miss cooked food at all, but Dyl had chosen to Change after he turned thirty,
and he still hankered after certain dishes.
Leora’s mother waved at them through the window, but didn’t
come out. Rhiain did a slow circuit of Shandy House and quickly attracted other
little riders. Soon three of them bounced on her back. “Faster, faster!” the
smallest boy urged her.
“No, Daniel,” Leora told him. “Grandpa says it’s not safe to go
fast.”
“When I grow up, I’m going to run the fastest,” the boy said.
“I’m going to be a shandy like Grandpa.”
“A wolf shandy?” Rhiain felt a pang. There were getting to be
quite a crew of wolf shandies. Both of the newest-Changed, from the invasion two
months ago, had chosen wolf form. If he didn’t change his mind, Daniel would
make six.
There were only two cat shandies, Rhiain and her mother, and
they didn’t even look like the same species. Rhiain was a racha, mostly. She’d
found out afterward that only male rachas were supposed to have manes, though
hers was more like a woman’s hair, the same tawny colour as her fur. Her mother
had modeled her form on the smaller leopard. She had spots and could hide
well.
Rhiain had liked being unique when she was a girl, but now it
felt...lonesome.
Lance intended to ask Dyl to accompany him on the dangerous
trip into the Republic of Temboria. If Dyl accepted, then he would be the one to
set an example for the Gotians. A wolf example.
Resentment surged through her. How was she ever going to find a
mate if there were no other cat shandies?
It wasn’t fair.
And so, instead of passing on Lance’s request that Dyl travel
with him, she found herself telling Dyl that she would be accompanying Lance and
Sara to the Republic.
* * *
Lance sent Rhiain ahead to Shandy House instead of going
in person because he was footsore, tired and filthy. He needed a bath.
And so did Sara.
The mere thought of Sara in conjunction with a bath spiked his
internal temperature as they entered the inn’s shady courtyard. He tried to
distract himself
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