Chapter Five
When Vorri woke the next morning, Shaine was pressed tightly against him, head pillowed on Vorri’s flank. He was still burning with fever, and didn’t stir when Vorri nudged him with his nose. His face was very pale except for two bright pink patches on his cheeks.
Vorri eased away carefully and shifted to human form. He dressed in the spare clothing he’d found in Shaine’s pack, then put away all the things he’d been using to tend to Shaine. After putting out the fire, he slipped Shaine’s pack over his shoulders and lifted the man in his arms.
Shaine was a limp, hot weight against his chest. He moaned in his sleep and called out for Mik again. Vorri held him tightly as he visualized the treatment room in the healing cottage and Jumped.
Ma was there getting the place straight before opening. A mixture of dismay and relief reached him through the pack-sense before she turned to face him. Her grey eyes narrowed as they fixed on Vorri’s face, then widened at the sight of the blanket-wrapped figure in his arms. Rather than berating her son and demanding to know where he’d been for the past three weeks, she chose to focus on Shaine.
“Put him on the table,” she said, moving to the cottage door and locking it. While Vorri lay Shaine on the table, Ma went to her medicine shelf and came back with a small cup of blue liquid.
Anzaria.
“Drink this,” she said. “It will block you from the pack-sense. Your father is out with the hunters, but everyone is well aware of how angry he is at you for disobeying him. If you’re sensed… if they find out…” She glanced down at Shaine.
“I know.” Vorri downed the medicine quickly. “I risk exile or death. I… hoped you might help me convince them I did not break the law lightly.”
“You will have to convince me, first, Vorri.” Her eyes searched his face.
“I believe he can help me find our lost hunters.”
Ma placed a hand over Shaine’s chest, eyes unfocusing as she studied him with her healer’s sight. When she looked up at Vorri again, her expression was troubled. “I feel him in the pack-sense… but he is not one of us. How is that possible?”
Vorri shook his head. “I don’t know, but I feel him, too. I believe he comes from the forbidden lands, but he hasn’t been conscious long enough for me to find out much more.”
“We’ll get some anzaria into him, too. If anyone senses him…” She prepared another cup of the drug.
While Vorri roused Shaine and encouraged him to drink it, he told her of Shaine’s injuries and what he’d done for him. “He seeks a place called Stormshard,” he finished. “He spoke of it in his delirium. Have you ever heard of such a place?”
“Not by that name. Could he be referring to the ruin on the edge of the eastern hunting grounds?”
“Possibly. If I offer to take him there, perhaps he can be convinced to guide me through Skanda in search of our kin. Will you help him?”
“If you truly believe he can help you find the hunters, then yes, I will help him.”
“And Da?”
Ma’s lips curved in a faint smile. “The luck of the Dragon Mother is with you today, my son. He and his hunting party are on a search for new hunting grounds. They left two days ago and do not plan to return for several more days. You will be gone before he returns, and as long as we’re careful, he need not know you were ever here.”
The knot of tension at the base of Vorri’s skull loosened, and he breathed a little easier. “That is good luck. Thank you, Ma.”
“Those are my children your grandfather wants to abandon.”
“And kin or not,” Vorri said, “the pack can’t afford to lose hunters. Especially now.”
“Especially now,” she echoed gravely. “Have you looked outside?”
Vorri hadn’t, but now he moved to the window, eyes widening at the snow covering the valley floor. “The shield is truly failing.”
“Yes. There will be no crops until spring. Assuming there is a spring.”
If the shield failed completely, the valley would be locked in ice and snow all year, like the surrounding mountains. The livestock would die, and nothing would grow.
Vorri turned to face her. “If Da expects me to be pack leader after him, then he has to accept that I must do as my conscience bids me. And my conscience will not allow me to abandon them.”
“Nor will mine.”
Vorri returned to Shaine’s side. “Can you help him?”
“His thread is faint enough that I think we need not worry about anyone else having sensed him, but we will have to work quickly. Once he’s healed, I will Jump you both back to our cottage, and you will have to stay hidden and take the anzaria faithfully every moment you’re here.”
“Ai. We can stay up in the loft. And we’ll be gone from here as soon as he’s recovered.”
“Go and throw some more wood on the fire and move that kettle of water over it,” Ma said. “He’ll want washing when I’ve finished with him.”
Vorri pressed a hand to Shaine’s burning forehead, then hurried off to do his mother’s bidding.
* * *
The bitter cold, biting pain, and the dark, bloody dreams faded. Shaine drifted, wrapped in warmth and softness. When he first opened his eyes, he was convinced he was still dreaming. He lay in a bed of furs in an unfamiliar room with walls of stone and a sharply sloped wood ceiling. Sunlight poured in through a window, and near the furs, a lantern hung from a crossbeam.
An attic?
His most recent memories were no help. The man with the white hair and intriguing eyes… the wolfish rhyx with the gloriously soft fur… they were the product of feverish nightmares. The furs he lay in weren’t anything like the soft, luxurious fur from his dreams, and the smell of them didn’t wind its way into his brain and make him want to bury himself in them.
Rubbing his eyes, he cast his mind back further.
The villages… he’d been on the road north, and he’d stayed in the tiny mining villages he’d encountered along the way. Maybe this was…
No… he’d left the last village behind days ago and was following a river valley when he’d been attacked.
Attacked and injured.
Shaine flung the furs back and sat up, only then realizing he was no longer in pain, and his side was free of bandages.
How much time had passed, for him to have healed so completely?
Weeks?
Months?
Panic flared as Vayne’s words to Mikhyal came back to him: There are pathways carved into his mythe-shadow, hooks that make him vulnerable to being taken over again.
Had the Wytch Council sent someone else to take up where Anxin had left off? Someone who had controlled him so completely that he’d lost weeks of his life?
What evil might he have done under the control of his new master? Killed his brother? His father? Destroyed the Northern Alliance from the inside?
He started to bring his hands to his face.
“It’s all right.”
Shaine slowly lowered his hands and turned in the direction of the voice to see a man with long white hair standing near the furs, a tray in his hands. A familiar pair of amethyst eyes met his. Intriguing eyes that, in his dreams, had sometimes belonged to a man and sometimes to a beast.
“Where—” Shaine wanted to ask where he was, how long he’d been sleeping, how he’d gotten here… but all he could manage was a dry croak.
“Let me get you a drink.” The man poured water from a pitcher into a carved wooden cup, which he handed to Shaine. Hands trembling, Shaine brought the cup to his lips and let the cool water slide down his parched throat.
“You were badly hurt by a wild rhyx,” the man continued. “At least, I think it was a rhyx. I didn’t actually see it; it could have been a mountain cat. I found you buried in the snow, bleeding. I did what I could for you, but it was not enough. When I realized you were beyond my skills to heal, I brought you here, to my mother. She’s our pack’s most skilled healer. That was this morning. It is…” The man trailed off, brow furrowed in concentration. “It has been three nights since I found you lying wounded in the snow.”
A healer. That explained where his wounds had gone. And only three nights. The Wytch Council hadn’t taken him. Shaine’s shoulders sagged with relief. He handed the cup back and tried his voice again. “Thank you,” he said softly. “It seems I owe you and your mother my life.”
“That is something we can speak of later. How do you feel?”
“Tired. And… I had the strangest dreams.”
“Your fever was dangerously high. I’m not surprised you had odd dreams.”
“You were there.” Dream images flashed through his mind. Shaine found it difficult to sort out which ones might have some basis in reality. “Vorri… is that your name? Or… did I dream that, too?”
The man smiled and pushed long, white hair back over his shoulder. “That was no dream. I am Vorri. And you are Shaine.”
“Ai. I… don’t remember telling you that.” Shaine rubbed his head to hide his discomfort.
“You told me a great many things while you lay raving, though it was difficult to untangle how much was delirium and how much was truth. You cried for someone called Mik, and you searched for a place called Stormshard.”
Shaine’s cheeks burned at the thought of Vorri seeing him so vulnerable. What else had he said?
“Do you mind if I sit?” Without waiting for an answer, Vorri plopped himself down on the furs by Shaine’s feet. Shaine stared down at the furs, confused. “Before I explain where you are and how you came to be here, I want to reassure you that you’re safe. This Anxin you fear so much cannot touch you here. No one outside of my pack even knows about this valley.”
“How did you—?”
“Your feelings were very clear to me in the pack-sense before my mother drugged us to keep us hidden.”
“Drugged us?”
“With anzaria. I… did not have permission to leave the valley, and I certainly didn’t have permission to bring a stranger here. If my father finds out…” Vorri shook his head. “It’s all right. My mother will keep us hidden until tonight. Once everyone is asleep, we will leave, and no one will be any the wiser.”
“Keep us hidden? Hidden from what?” Shaine tried not to panic, but he was certain his alarm showed on his face.
“I’m sorry,” Vorri said quickly. “Ma says I’m to keep you calm and resting, and here I am upsetting you.” He got to his feet and fetched the tray, which held a steaming bowl full of something that looked like a rich stew. He helped Shaine position a thick roll of furs behind his back, then set the tray across his lap. “Ma says you must eat, and I am to make certain that you do. While you do that, I’ll try to explain. And then you can tell me what need has driven you so far from your home, and what it is you hope to find at Stormshard. Will that be acceptable?”
“I… yes.” There was little point in protesting. Whoever Vorri was, he’d saved Shaine’s life, and was doing his best to reassure him that he was safe. Shaine sighed and resigned himself to getting his answers at Vorri’s pace. His stomach growled loudly as he picked up the spoon and inhaled the fragrant steam rising from the bowl. He took a mouthful and found the stew savory and delicious, exactly what his body wanted to fill the hollow space in his belly.
“Before I explain who we are, I need to ask a question.”
Shaine nodded and took another spoonful.
“I was always taught that no one but pack could be felt in the pack-sense, but I felt you as clearly as any of my pack-mates. My mother did, too. Is there another pack?”
“Pack?” Shaine frowned and set down the spoon. “I don’t… I don’t know what that is.” Perhaps this was another fever dream after all. “Am I still sick?”
Vorri chuckled. “No, but you are weak after several days of wandering in fever dreams.”
“I don’t know what this pack-sense is. Is it Wytch power? Because all I have is a minor talent that lets me cloak myself in the mythe so others can’t see me. I don’t have any special senses, though.” He glanced around the room. “Where is your… your companion?”
“You asked me that before,” Vorri said, amusement curving his lips. “I have no companion.”
“But… I saw… there was an animal. I couldn’t decide what it was. It looked almost like a cross between a… a rhyx and a wolf.”
Vorri’s grin broadened. “That was me in my rhyx form.”
“You’re a shifter!” Shaine stared at him. “Then… then that wasn’t a dream… I saw you shift. And… and I remember you curled around me, keeping me warm.” His face grew hot again as he remembered snuggling into that sweet-smelling fur.
“I had no blankets but the one I found with your things, and it was not enough. Keeping you warm with my body heat was the only way to stop you from freezing to death. And a rhyx is far warmer — and better suited to the cold — than a human.” Vorri cocked his head. “You say you have only a minor talent… so you are not a shifter?”
“No, I’m not.”
“But you must know someone who is. You seem quite comfortable with the idea.”
“My brother is a shifter,” Shaine said, “though he shifts into a dragon rather than a—” He stopped with a strangled cry as he recalled the stuffed rhyx head that had hung in his father’s trophy room at the summer palace. “I didn’t know rhyx could take human form,” he said faintly. “Are… are they all able to do that?”
“No,” Vorri said. “Only my pack, as far as I know.”
Shaine’s shoulders went slack with relief.
“My pack started as humans, like you,” Vorri went on. “Wytch King Lethrian of Rhiva gave us the ability to shift, and he chose a form for us that combined the hardiness and natural weapons of a rhyx with a body shape close enough to a wolf that we wouldn’t strike fear into the hearts of those who worked with us. We lived among our kin in Rhiva before the Wytch Council seized power and drove us out.”
“And buried all knowledge of it,” Shaine murmured. “I’ve read about Lethrian’s rule, and there was no mention of him creating shifters of any kind.”
“Not surprising,” Vorri said. “Shortly after they came to power, the Wytch Council began a campaign to cleanse the bloodlines and bury all knowledge they deemed dangerous, thus destroying any chance of the Wytch Kings mounting a successful rebellion in the future.”
It sounded so much like what Jaire and Vayne spoke of, the hiding of knowledge and the arranged marriages of those with Wytch power, always subject to Wytch Council approval.
To protect the bloodlines, the Wytch Council said.
To keep them weak, was what Vayne said.
“Why did Lethrian want rhyx shifters?” Shaine asked.
“To supplement his army when he had to fight the Wytch Council,” Vorri said. “He saw it coming, tried to warn the other kingdoms, but he was betrayed. The Wytch Council came for him with all the might of the southern kingdoms behind them. After they executed him, they set out to hunt down his shifter army. Those of us who survived fled deep into the mountains, to lands so hostile, human soldiers could not follow. And as long as the Wytch Council rules Skanda, we dare not return. But we once were loyal to Rhiva, and gave our lives to defend the kingdom from the Wytch Council troops.”
“Aio’s teeth,” Shaine whispered. “You were subjects of Rhiva…”
“Ai. We thought we were safe here, so deep in the mountains. Normal humans can’t survive outside our valley for long, and we can only survive it in our shifted form. The cold is too extreme, and the storms tearing through the mythe are too dangerous. Only now… I fear we may have been discovered. Two of our hunting parties have disappeared from our hunting grounds within the last month. I feel my pack-mates far to the south, deep in the forbidden lands, the lands my ancestors fled. I don’t know what would have drawn them there, but from what the pack-sense tells me, they did not go willingly.”
“You think they were taken?” Shaine asked.
“I believe so. They would not have abandoned their duty. The pack relies on them for food, now more than ever. I was searching for them when I felt your pain vibrating through the pack-sense. I’ve never sensed anything like it, and was drawn to it. Once I found you, it occurred to me that if I saved you, I might convince you to help me pass through the forbidden lands safely, in search of my kin. We have been isolated here for so long, we know nothing of what the lands of Skanda look like now.”
“But someone didn’t want you to go,” Shaine said. “You said you didn’t have permission to leave the valley.”
“My grandfather is the pack leader, and my father is the leader of the hunt,” Vorri explained. “One day, many years from now, I will lead the pack. They say I cannot risk myself, and they refuse to send another party out to search for the others, for fear that we may lose them as well.”
Shaine had finished the stew, and he set the bowl down on the floor beside the furs. His thoughts raced as he considered what Vorri had said.
“Vorri!” A woman’s voice called from down below. “Are you distracting my patient? You’re supposed to be feeding him.”
“He has eaten every bite,” Vorri called, getting to his feet. Lowering his voice, he continued, “We’ll talk more later, but I think, perhaps, we can help one another.”
A few moments later, a woman with blonde hair and pale grey eyes appeared and chased Vorri away. She glanced at the empty bowl, then smiled at Shaine.
“Now it’s time for some more anzaria, and then back to sleep for you,” she said. “Your body is still recovering from the healing, and if you are going to be ready to leave with Vorri tonight, you must rest more.” She held out a small cup.
Shaine took it from her and drained it. Before he could ask her a single question, she’d placed a hand on his forehead. A great wave of drowsiness crashed through him, and he lay back in the furs and closed his eyes, sinking down into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
After Ma settled Shaine into another healing sleep, she came down the ladder from the loft and fixed Vorri with intent grey eyes. “I’ve just given him a dose of anzaria. You should take a dose, too. By midnight, it will have worn off enough for you to Jump him to safety.”
Vorri nodded. “I should try to sleep, too.”
“I’ll wake you when it’s time,” Ma said. “And I’ll gather some supplies for you. I know you’ll be all right, but I’m worried about Shaine. The Iceshards are no place for a human who cannot shift.”
“I can hunt for us both, Ma. And I can keep him warm while he sleeps.” Ma arched an eyebrow, and Vorri blushed. “Well, I can,” he muttered.
She smiled fondly and ruffled his hair. After Vorri had taken the anzaria, Ma sent him upstairs to sleep. He didn’t expect to, but the past few days of tending Shaine and keeping him warm had exacted more of a toll than he’d thought. Once he’d slipped into the furs beside Shaine, it wasn’t long before his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.
He was awakened by an anguished cry cutting through his dreams. Vorri sat bolt upright in the furs, heart pounding. Beside him, a warm weight thrashed and moaned. By the silvery-violet glow of the moonlight streaming in the window, he saw tears glittering on Shaine’s face.
“Mik!” Shaine called. “Don’t go! Please, I didn’t mean it —” The words were lost in a wrenching sob.
Vorri leaned over to shake him gently awake. “Shaine, it’s a dream. Wake, and you’ll see.”
Shaine’s body jerked and his eyes flew open and fixed on Vorri’s. He didn’t speak, but fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, and he turned away, shuddering with silent sobs.
The anzaria Vorri had taken earlier had worn off, but Ma had given Shaine a more potent mixture, which would last longer. Though Vorri could see how frightened he was, he sensed nothing through the pack-sense. Intending to offer comfort, he reached out a tentative hand and pressed it against Shaine’s shoulder. Shaine flinched away, and his sobs continued.
Remembering how Shaine had snuggled up to him when he’d been ill, Vorri sat up and hauled his nightshirt over his head, then shifted into rhyx form and settled himself beside Shaine. Only then did Shaine turn toward him. He pressed himself close, buried his face in Vorri’s soft fur, and wept.
The moon had moved past Vorri’s window, leaving the room in darkness before the terrible sobs wracking Shaine’s body finally subsided.
“Sorry,” Shaine whispered. “I didn’t meant to soak your bed or… or make a fool of myself.” He let out a long, shaking breath. “I suppose I ought to just tell you. It’s all tied up with why I need to find Stormshard.”
Sensing Shaine’s reluctance, Vorri rested his chin on Shaine’s shoulder and waited. Perhaps the darkness made it easier for Shaine to talk, or perhaps it was because Vorri was in rhyx form. Whichever it was, it didn’t take long for him to begin.
“The first thing you should know is I’m a prince of Rhiva,” Shaine said quietly. “So… what you asked of me… to help you find your kin… I owe that to you, really. If your pack originally came from Rhiva, you’re subjects of Rhiva. Or… at least, your ancestors were.”
Vorri wasn’t certain how Da and Grandfather might see that. Shaine continued, speaking of the depredations of the Wytch Council, how Council-chosen Wytch Masters were installed in the Courts of every kingdom in Skanda to spy and report back to the Wytch Council. He spoke of unrest in the north, and a secret alliance that included the kingdom of Rhiva. And he spoke of Anxin, the Wytch Master of Rhiva, who had enslaved Shaine, weaving invisible chains in the mythe to bind his will, forcing him to watch helplessly as he betrayed his own kin in both word and deed.
He’d endured this torment for over a year before Anxin was killed and Shaine set free. Only now, no one trusted him, and Shaine was desperate to prove he was no longer the enemy’s tool.
When he paused in his tale, Vorri nuzzled his neck, and Shaine curled his fingers in Vorri’s fur, scratching behind his ears.
“That’s why I came north,” Shaine continued after a short break. “I found an old journal that spoke of a tower called Stormshard, deep in the Iceshards, where all manner of weapons were created. I thought… I thought if I could find the tower, perhaps I could find something there that I could bring home to help the Northern Alliance break free of the Wytch Council. The war isn’t going well. The Wytch Masters can open mythe-gates wherever they like. They send their troops through to burn our crops, and they’re gone again before anyone can raise the alarm.”
Vorri itched to ask what sort of thing Shaine thought he might find after all these years, but Shaine was still drugged, invisible to the pack-sense.
“I should never have left,” Shaine said miserably. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I… I suppose I hoped I might stumble across some ancient weapon that’s been hidden away all this time. Only… I don’t even know if the tower is still standing. It… it was a stupid idea, I know that. I mean, look how it turned out. I didn’t plan properly. Obviously. All I could think of was getting away from all those eyes watching me, all those whispers following me everywhere I went. I just…” Shaine’s voice dropped to a trembling whisper. “I just wanted to do something useful, for once. And… maybe prove that I can be something more than an embarrassment to my family.”
* * *
There was something comforting about letting his confession spill out to someone who couldn’t respond or interrupt. Shaine lay against Vorri, inhaling the sweet, musky scent of his fur, and letting the words pour out. When he’d finished speaking, only the sound of his own breath and Vorri’s broke the silence.
He might have drifted back to sleep that way, but light flared down below, filling the loft with a dim glow and giving Shaine his first proper look at his rescuer in shifted form.
His memory of the creature haunting his fever dreams was startlingly accurate. Vorri was similar in form to a large, white wolf. A very large wolf. If he was standing, Vorri’s head might well reach Shaine’s shoulder. Shaine might have been frightened, except he knew the creature, recognized him as the one who had warmed and protected him while he’d been so ill.
“Vorri?” the healer’s voice called from the floor below. “It’s time you two were on your way.”
Vorri got gracefully to his feet — which looked nothing like wolf feet, what with those wicked cat-like claws — and shifted back to his human form. “We’ll be right down, Ma.” Then he lowered his voice and said to Shaine, “I believe I know the place you seek. It lies on the edge of one of our hunting ranges. But it’s no longer a tower. It was a ruin when we found it.”
Shaine stared up at him, hope flaring. Maybe there was still a chance that he could return home victorious. “Can you take me there?”
“I can.”
Shaine couldn’t help his sudden smile. “You said you thought we could help each other. I propose we do that. If you take me to the ruins, then I will help you find and free your kin. You have my word as a prince of Rhiva.”
Vorri returned the smile. “Then you have my word, as well, Shaine of Rhiva. I will see you safely to the ruins of Stormshard, and I will help you search for your weapon.” He turned and scooped up a pile of clothing from the foot of the furs and tossed it at Shaine. “Your things. We salvaged what we could, but the shirt was torn to shreds. I found one of mine for you. We’re about the same size.”
Shaine slipped out of the furs blushing furiously. He focused on dressing, but he couldn’t resist stealing glances at Vorri as he did. Vorri’s human form was as beautiful as his rhyx form. His legs were long and lean, his hips narrow, his shoulders just broad enough. A warm, heavy ache stirred in Shaine’s groin, and he swallowed and looked away.
The shirt Vorri had found for him was similar to the one that had been ruined, but a familiar scent clung to it: honey, spice, and musk. It was the same warm scent as Vorri’s fur, the scent that had wound its way through his fever dreams and soothed him to sleep when he’d been so ill.
“Do you always smell this good?” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. He was as bad as Tristin, blurting out whatever thought happened to be in his head at the moment. “S-sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all right,” Vorri said, eyes twinkling merrily. “I’ll consider it a compliment.”
A sudden gust of wind followed by the sound of snow or ice pellets rattling against glass had Vorri jumping and moving to the window to peer out. By the time Shaine had hauled the borrowed shirt on over his head, Vorri was staring at him with wide eyes.
“It’s snowing again.” He sounded surprised.
“It’ll be snowing for months,” Shaine said. “Winter’s only just beginning, and we are deep in the Iceshards. Does the snow ever really go away here?”
“Outside the valley, no, but… the valley itself is supposed to be protected from the elements. When the pack settled here, the strongest mythe-weavers among us wove a protective shield over the valley and tied it to the reservoir of mythe-energy deep under the ground. It’s always warm here, warm enough to grow crops year-round. Only now…” Vorri turned to stare at the swirling white outside the window. “Now the shield is failing. If it disappears completely, we’ll never survive. Our crops won’t grow, and the village will be buried under snow and ice, just like the mountains beyond the valley.”
“Vorri?” Vorri’s mother called again. “The anzaria no longer protects you, and I feel your distress quite clearly. If anyone else is awake, they may sense it, too. Come. You must be away quickly.”
Vorri shot Shaine a worried look, then turned from the window and headed for the ladder. “Ma’s right. We should go before anyone senses us. I’ll explain later.”
Vorri’s mother awaited them on the cottage’s main floor. “Good evening, Shaine,” she said warmly. “I am Ava. It’s good to see you on your feet.”
“Good evening to you, Ava,” Shaine said, returning her smile. “I understand I owe you my life. Thank you for that. If there’s anything I can do to repay you…”
“Look after Vorri as he has looked after you, and I will consider the debt repaid.”
“I will,” Shaine said solemnly. “I owe him my life, too.”
“Then I am content,” Ava said with a nod.
“Ma, Shaine is a prince of Rhiva,” Vorri said eagerly. “He’s agreed to help me find Savra, Kavarr, and the others if I will guide him to the ruins.”
Ava’s smile widened. “Your Highness,” she murmured, dropping a small curtsy. “I will be forever in your debt if you can help Vorri bring my children and my pack-mates home.”
“I’ll do my best, I swear it,” Shaine said gravely.
Ava gestured to the table, where Shaine’s pack sat, along with several cloth packets. “There’s some dinner for you packed in here,” she said, indicating one of the packets. “Dried meat here, and some nuts and dried fruit. That should supplement you if you find yourselves in a place where you cannot hunt.” She’d also found a warm, fur-lined cloak and coat for Shaine, to replace the ones that had been ruined in the rhyx attack.
Shaine eyed the packets of food, wondering if it would be enough to hold them on their journey. “How long will it take us to reach Stormshard?”
“We can be there in the blink of an eye,” Vorri said.
“Really? I made it almost all the way there? How close did I get?”
“Not close at all, I’m afraid,” Vorri told him with an impish grin. “The ruin is many days’ journey from here, on the easternmost edge of our hunting grounds.”
“Then how are we to be there in the blink of an eye?” Shaine’s heart beat faster as a wild thought struck him. “A mythe-gate? Can you open a mythe-gate?”
“I don’t know what a mythe-gate is, but I will take you there the same way I brought you here: by Jumping through the mythe.”
“Jumping?”
“You will see.”
Shaine frowned, but before he could ask any more questions, Ava said, “Best if you are on your way. And Vorri, do not return here. I cannot say for certain when your father will be back, and if he should learn that you brought a man of Rhiva here…” She trailed off, giving Vorri a meaningful look.
“Ai, we’ll be on our way now,” Vorri said. “Shaine, you’d best get wrapped up.”
Shaine began putting on the coat while Vorri stuffed the food into the pack. Once he was bundled up, he turned to look at Vorri, who was still barefoot. “What about you? Where’s your coat?”
“You’re wearing it. I won’t need it, as I’ll be wearing my rhyx form.”
Ava came around the table to embrace her son. “Bring them back if you can, Vorri.”
“I will, Ma, I swear it.”
“If they’re out there, we’ll find them,” Shaine added.
“I’m going to shift into rhyx form. You’ll need to put your hand on my neck and hold on. We’re going to Jump to the cave where I brought you when I first found you. We’ll spend the rest of the night there, and in the morning, we’ll go on to Stormshard. Ready?”
At Shaine’s nod, Vorri shucked out of his shirt and breeches right there in the kitchen and shifted. Shaine curled his fingers into the soft fur and held on tightly.
Before he could ask any of the questions hammering in his mind, the cottage walls faded, to be replaced by a shimmering golden haze. Shaine squeezed his eyes shut. A few moments later, the cold bit into him, and he opened his eyes to find himself in total darkness.
A moment later, a ball of mythe-light appeared floating above their heads. They were in a cave, standing near a fire pit. A small pile of twigs and branches sat beside the pit. Vorri gestured to it with his nose, and Shaine slid the pack off his shoulders, knelt down, and rooted about for his firestones.
“I gather strangers aren’t welcome in your valley,” he said.
Vorri shook his head no, then selected a branch from the pile, closed his jaws around it, and set it carefully in the fire pit.
Shaine had so many more questions, but with Vorri in rhyx form, communication was impossible. He hadn’t thought about that when Vorri had said he’d be wearing his rhyx form for the journey, but now he did. Weeks on the road with an intriguing, attractive man whom he couldn’t even talk to. Not even to ask the most pressing questions bouncing around in his head. What was this Jumping? How had they covered so much ground in so little time? Could all of Vorri’s pack-mates do it?
Shaine sighed as he drew his firestones from the pack.
Answers would have to wait until Vorri took human form once more, and who knew how long that would be?
Once the fire was burning, there was nothing to do but try to go back to sleep. Fully dressed, Shaine curled up with the fire in front of him and Vorri at his back, and was soon asleep.
* * *
When Shaine woke, it was still dark. The fire was still crackling away. He stretched, suddenly aware that something was different. Something he sensed rather than saw or heard. A presence, a feeling…
He turned over to look at Vorri, and found him wide awake, regarding him with bright amethyst eyes. <Can you hear me, Shaine?>
Shaine started. It was Vorri’s voice, but in his head rather than his ears. “Is… is that you? Talking? In my head?”
Vorri bobbed his furry head, wolfish jaws stretching in a fearsome parody of a grin. The voice in his head, however, was friendly, suffused with a feeling of contentment and pleasure. <Ai. It seems we can speak to one another through the pack-sense. I felt you so clearly when I first found you. I thought perhaps you might be able to hear my words, but Ma drugged you before you were well enough to ask. I wish we’d had time for me to explain more to you before we left, but Ma was right — we needed to be gone quickly, before anyone realized you were there. You asked me last night if strangers are welcome in the valley. The answer to that is no. It’s our oldest law, and I broke it.>
“You broke the law for me?” Shaine blinked at Vorri.
<I could not leave you. You were dying, and I could feel you in the pack-sense. Like one of us.> He waited a few moments while Shaine digested that before nudging him with his nose. <I know how frustrated you must have been when we arrived here last night. So many questions, and as long as the anzaria kept you from the pack-sense, there was no way for me to answer them.>
“Pack-sense… what is that?”
<It is… an awareness of one another that every member of my pack shares. We can use it to sense where our pack-mates are, we can feel the stronger emotions through it so we know if someone is in trouble, and we can use it to communicate with one another. It’s how we speak when we’re in rhyx form.> There was a long pause before Vorri added, <It surprised me that I could feel you in the pack-sense. I thought at first there might be another pack, perhaps more of Lethrian’s shifters who survived.>
Shaine gave him a rueful grin. “You must have been terribly disappointed to find out you’d saved a prince my people would just as soon be rid of.”
<No.> Vorri cocked his head, amethyst eyes burning in the dim light. <Not disappointed at all.>
Shaine’s cheeks grew hot, and he averted his eyes, searching for something to say to break the unnerving silence. “It… um. I don’t hear the storm. How deep is this cavern?”
<Not very deep,> Vorri replied, <but the entrance curves a bit, offering us protection from the wind. You hear no storm because the storm is far away. We are a long way from the valley. It took me… hmm… perhaps seventeen or eighteen days of travel on foot to reach this place from our southernmost hunting grounds. I can only Jump to a place I’ve been before. Or to a nearby place I can clearly see.>
Shaine’s mind reeled with the implications of that. “That must be very convenient. And devastating, back in the time when the Wytch Council was taking power. I can see why they’d have wanted to be rid of your pack. Rhiva would have had a tremendous advantage. Can you all Jump? Like you can all shift?”
Vorri’s head drooped, and sorrow engulfed Shaine through the pack-sense. <We cannot all shift,> Vorri said. <Ten years ago, some of us were trapped in rhyx form during the same mythe-storm that damaged the valley’s shield. Those we search for are so afflicted. Unable to live as humans, they retreated to the caves and dedicated themselves to the hunt.>
“That’s terrible!” Shaine exclaimed. How would Mikhyal handle that? Mikhyal loved his dragon form, loved the sense of power and freedom it afforded him. But to be trapped in that form for the rest of his life… His eyes snapped to Vorri’s. “But… if there’s snow in your valley when you’re used to being able to grow crops year-round, you must be relying on your hunters even more.”
Vorri’s misery, intertwined with a powerful sense of purpose, drifted through his mind.
“That’s why you have to go after them,” Shaine whispered.
<No one else can be spared,> Vorri told him. <The council of elders has decided we cannot risk the hunters we have left. But… my own brother and sister are among those who are missing. And as you say, we will need all the hunters if we are to survive a winter without any crops. So I have taken it upon myself to find them and free them. Or die trying.>
Shaine reached out to twine his fingers in Vorri’s fur. “Not if I can help it,” he said. “We’ll find them. And we’ll save them. And once we’ve done that, I’ll speak to my father about finding a place for your pack in Rhiva.”
Vorri’s eyes glowed, and a sense of pleased surprise enveloped Shaine. <You would do that for us?>
“You’re subjects of Rhiva,” Shaine said simply. “And you fought for Lethrian against the Wytch Council.”
Vorri inched closer to him as he sat back to watch the fire. He settled his warm, furry body beside Shaine, side pressing against Shaine’s thigh. Shaine rested a hand on Vorri’s head and stroked his soft fur as he stared into the dancing flames.