Maiden's Wolf (In Deception's Shadow Book 3) (18 page)

Curious about the
Gate, Beatrice let her own magic unfold enough to study it. It was nothing like
her green healing magic, nor was it cold and barren like her death magic. This
foreign power was wild and joyous, barely contained.

She dragged in a
deep breath, taking in its hot scent. There was almost a spiciness to it and a
fragrance not unlike sandalwood. She’d noticed it upon the phoenix elder. At
first she’d just assumed it was some kind of scented oil, but now she wondered
if it was a fire Elemental’s natural scent.

Even from here
she could feel the heat cast off from the Gate as the fire magic danced and
flared in the breeze. On impulse, Beatrice reached out towards the fire—not
close enough to burn, but close enough to better feel its heat.

“Careful,”
Silverblade said. “The magic is controlled, but it is still fire magic. It can
burn anyone who is not a fire mage if it slips its creator’s control.”

“My healer’s
magic told me as much. I was simply curious, and…” She glanced around,
hesitation clear in her voice. “It’s just that I’ve never seen so much magic
displayed so openly before. I always had to hide my magic. This will take some
getting used to.”

Silverblade
chuckled. “I have a feeling being members of the Twelve will take some ‘getting
used to’ as well.”

The guards had
formed up around them and the ones in the lead were just readying to pass
through the Gate. On the other side, she could see a large, open prairie where
wind played among the tall grasses. When the first of the guards crossed over,
they acted no differently than if they’d just walked through a door. Yet to her
magic’s senses, one moment they were there and the next they were gone, her
magic no longer able to feel them for two heartbeats. And then just as suddenly
as they’d vanished, they returned to her magic ‘sight,’ but their life forces
now felt muted and distant.

Beatrice
instinctively held her breath and closed her eyes as she passed through the
Gate.

Not surprising,
she felt its heat press in upon her skin and her hair lifted off her shoulders,
as if blown by some unnatural breeze. But other than a slight uncomfortable
stirring of her Larnkin, she had no other ill effects.

She opened her
eyes. Even though she’d expected it, gone was the shadowed forest, replaced by
tall meadow grasses and the endless sweep of the vast sky. She drew a shocked
breath as her eyes took in the sight of what must be a tall ridge of mountains.
Never in her life had she seen such a majestic sight. As she watched, the sun
sank down behind the tallest peak.

It would be full
dark soon, but for now there was enough light that when she managed to tear her
eyes away from the mountains, she could still make out the vast prairie with
its softly stirring grasses. Midway between her position and the breathtaking
mountains, there was what looked like a small city of tents.

A breeze stirred
decorative fringes and tassels on some of the tents, making them glow in the
last light of the day. The breeze continued to play with colorful flags and
tapestries hung between the tents. Even the walls of the tents themselves were
ornate and woven with intricate geometric patterns she could make out over the
distance.

A vast herd of
horses—or more likely they were the horse-like santhyrians—grazed along the
edge of the tent city. Others shapes—the dark-furred lupwyns—flowed in and out
of the camp on their own errands.

“My pack is
here,” Silverblade said, joy entering his voice. He surprised her then,
wrapping one arm around her shoulders and dragging her close enough that he was
able to bend down and plant a kiss upon her lips. “And once we figure out how
to free my father from Grey Spires, he will join us here. You will like him.”

She just hoped Silverblade’s
father and the rest of his pack liked her once they got to know her. Though,
there was one pack member who might not be excited to meet her.

And Beatrice
would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit the thought of meeting Autumn
Shadow made her uneasy. Knowing Silverblade was once mated to another and
meeting that mate face to face were two very different things indeed.

With the small
part of her mind not studying the tent city ahead, she felt the Gate close in
upon itself and vanish.

What a strange
world she was about to enter.

*****

When they at last
reached the outskirts of the tent city, Silverblade’s pack came rushing out to
greet him. Or at least some of his pack. Beatrice realized the first wave of
the yapping and barking lupwyns were in fact only half the size of the
dark-furred behemoths she’d seen patrolling River’s Divide.

These were in
fact juveniles, or pups even. It occurred to her she didn’t even know what a
lupwyn child was called, and again her ignorance gave her pause. She didn’t
have long to dwell on her own doubts though, for within heartbeats, the first
and fastest of the lupwyn pups had already reached their side.

A small, round
ball of fur no higher than her knee threw itself at Silverblade, squealing in
delight when he bent down to pick it up. While her eyes could not discern a
gender, her healing power came to her rescue again, telling her this was a
small female. Probably no more than a year old. A second and third arrived,
circling cautiously, studying her. They would advance upon her and then drop
down into a crouch, almost like they were stalking her. When she looked
directly at them, they would dart away again and then she realized they were
being playful.

When she went
down to one knee and held a hand out in invitation, the bravest of them
approached and gave her hand a quick sniff, then a lick. Before she knew what
was happening, seven lupwyn pups all pounced on her at once, driving her back.
She fell on the ground and proceeded to be mauled by playful younglings.

“Away with you,”
Silverblade said, reaching down to haul Beatrice up by the hand. “Are you all
right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”
Beatrice brushed the grass and wrinkles from her skirt and then looked around.
The young lupwyns had obediently lined up along one side, waiting for
Silverblade’s next order. “They are adorable.”

The tiny female
pup nuzzled and licked at his face, nipping his chin almost playfully.
Something occurred to Beatrice. She’d never asked Silverblade if he had any
children. She knew he was over five hundred years old and he’d once had a mate.
With a long-lived race like the lupwyns, there was no telling how long one of
their offspring might take to mature. Were any of these little ones his? How
had she not thought to ask?

If he had
fathered young and she became his mate, would she be expected to help raise
them? Did she want to? Would she be allowed? Or would their birth mother be
territorial?

She eyed the
youngsters. Goddess! What if a single lupwyn female gave birth to multiple babies
at a time, like wolves? Were these juveniles all his?

It was an
unsettling notion. One part of her heart wanted to know the answer, while the
other half wished to remain ignorant. In the end, the need to know won the
battle.

“Is she yours?”
Beatrice asked as she indicated the tiny pup still in Silverblade’s arms.

“All young belong
to the pack, it does not matter who sired or birthed them. While lupwyns are
more fertile than phoenix, we are less so than the humans are. Our fertility
cycle is tied to the power of our pack bonds and the Larnkins we are host to.
You’ve just happened to meet my pack during one of our fertility cycles, when
we have an abundance of pups. As such, every member of the pack helps to rear
the young. That is the lupwyn way.”

Beatrice noted he
neither confirmed nor denied that he’d sired any, and she could only take that
to mean he had. Even if he could not openly claim any of them as his own.

He must’ve seen
her questioning expression, for with a flash of teeth and pointed fang, he
grinned. “I have not had the honor of helping to bring a life into this world.
But one day, I hope we will be able to bring many into the world.”

An intense wave
of relief rushed through her body at learning he didn’t yet have any young, and
warmth followed fast on its heels at knowing he wanted to have some with her. It
probably shouldn’t have mattered as all children were special no matter who
birthed them, but if Silverblade was to sire young one day, a selfish part of
her soul wanted it to be with her.

Councilor Tav
joined them, huffing at Silverblade’s remark. “You can explain the finer points
of the lupwyn culture later. For now, we have more important things to talk
about. I have informed my sister that you have been found and that you are
members of the Twelve. She and her mate will be here shortly. The other members
of the Twelve already discovered have already arrived. Come morning many of the
Council will be here, too. Were I you, I would walk among your pack this night
and allow them to heal you. You will need to be at full strength for what we
must do soon.

Silverblade
grunted an answer, likely agreeing. Beatrice wondered what she was supposed to
be doing while Silverblade was being healed by his pack; she could not read
minds but she could read intent, and Councilor Tav had implied that she would
not be with the pack. He did not leave her in doubt for long, though.

Tav turned his
attention to her. “Tonight, you and I will have a long conversation about the
history of the Twelve and the nature of your healer’s gifts.”

Beatrice felt
dismayed, but kept her face neutral. “Thank you. I am honored. Your guidance is
greatly appreciated.”

Tav hadn’t even
led Beatrice and Silverblade past the first row of tents before other members
of the pack made their way to them. Instinctively, she moved closer to
Councilor Tav to allow Silverblade’s family room to greet him.

Walking among
lupwyns in their true form was not for the faint of heart. A tall human might
come to their shoulders. It wasn’t merely the height. They were broad and
muscularly built, males and females both. Actually, when she looked, she didn’t
see much of a size difference between the genders. While the lupwyns could walk
upright in a motion similar to a human’s gait, and they wore clothing and armor
and carried weapons, that was where physical similarities ended.

Those rare times
she’d managed to catch a glimpse of Silverblade in his lupwyn form when he’d
been scouting, he’d always been running on four feet and looked very wolf-like.
But those times hadn’t been enough to truly understand.

There was very
little that was familiar in their narrow, angular faces with those big slanted
eyes, long muzzles and mobile wide-set ears. Every handspan of their massive
bodies was covered in thick fur. One other eye-catching characteristic was the
way their tails swayed back and forth as they walked. Silverblade’s didn’t.
Perhaps he couldn’t because he was stuck between forms.

Beatrice started
to understand why he saw himself as crippled. She didn’t agree—but did
understand.

While she’d been
studying them, more individuals had drifted in, calling greetings in a deep,
guttural language that, for all its harsh tones, still had a flowing kind of
beauty to it. More lupwyns arrived and licked or rubbed against whichever body
part was close. She witnessed some of the scent marking Silverblade exhibited
in the mornings.

But when he
continued forward, the others fell back or parted to allow him passage without
having to fight his way through. She was certain she was seeing respect for a
pack alpha. Then something else occurred to her. Was she supposed to bow to his
dominant status to show her respect in some way? Perhaps lupwyns only did these
things around other pack members, and non-pack were excluded.

Maybe Silverblade
didn’t even consider her an equal?

That hurt a bit
but she wasn’t so emotionally fragile that she’d bruise from it. Turning her
attention to more neutral thoughts, she studied the slight bouncing gait of the
surrounding lupwyns and came to understand the reason for the movement. Their
legs bent at a strange angle. Her healer’s magic noted a few other physical
differences between lupwyn and human body structure. But they were natural
shape shifters so that was to be expected.

Another
interesting difference became more obvious. Those that walked upright wore
clothing and armor, whereas those on four legs didn’t always seem to.

At some point
Silverblade had stopped walking while she’d studied his pack. Now he stood
looking back at her. He didn’t say anything, instead silently waiting for her
to catch up. She noticed then that she’d fallen behind the others until she was
near the back. She continued forward, slowly easing her way between the other
lupwyns. She kept her chin tucked and pretended to watch where she stepped. She
halted with a fair distance still between them and he suddenly shot out his arm
and dragged her against his side.

“I see you have a
question. Don’t ever be afraid to ask.” His statement came out sounding distracted
as he tucked a stray bit of hair behind her one ear. “Clothing and weapon
harnesses impede movement and just feel uncomfortable when one runs on all
fours. Sometimes it is required anyway, but we tend to avoid restrictive items
when we are just hunting or playing.”

Glancing
sideways, she smiled softly. “Can you read my mind so easily?”

“No, but
sometimes your expression is so earnest, it’s easy.” He nuzzled her, his lips
caressing her cheek. “And no more distancing yourself from me. Yes, I was and
still am an alpha. That demands my pack’s obedience. But you are still free to
choose.”

“Choose?”

“To remain as you
are—one of the Twelve, respected and honored for that alone. Or to choose to
become part of my pack and accept me as your alpha.” Silverblade stroked her
hair behind her ear and she felt his lips brush against it as he spoke. “My
preference would be to see you become pack, but I will honor any decision you
make.”

Now that was a
dangerous and yet intriguing choice.

“This human is
one of the Twelve?” A voice with feminine tones reached between her and
Silverblade, stealing the warmth that had been intensifying between them.

Looking over his
shoulder, Beatrice’s eyes locked with those belonging to a giant of a female.
The newcomer was equal in height to Silverblade and only marginally narrower
through the chest and shoulders.

Silverblade
stiffened as he turned to face the female. “Yes, and her name is Beatrice. As
you pointed out, she is a member of the Twelve. You will show her the same
respect that would be granted me. Beatrice, this is Autumn Shadow, alpha and
co-ruler of Highwater’s Pack.”

It wasn’t quite
hostility she saw in Autumn Shadow’s gaze, but there was some calculation or
perhaps frustration, almost like she looked upon Beatrice as a minor annoyance.
Or yet another problem the female would have to deal with in a day already
filled with them.

Autumn Shadow
came forward and greeted Silverblade as some of the other pack members had, but
to Beatrice’s way of thinking it was way too long and intimate. Though
Silverblade didn’t shove her aside, so this must be normal.

Breaking away at
last, Autumn Shadow looked him over. “Highwater Pack is honored to have one of
the Twelve as our alpha male. Come, I will show you where the other members
wait.” She started away, heading deeper into the camp.

“The pack should
be doubly honored, then.” Silverblade’s raised voice held a cold bite to it.
“Beatrice is pack to me.”

“Have you fallen
in love?” She asked, sounding both curious and dubious.

A growl escaped
him. “If I have, it’s no concern of yours.”

“Ah, but it is.
When your pack bonds were severed, we thought you dead and we mourned your
loss. Then members of the Twelve arrived with the phoenix prince’s Talisman. The
Falcon Staff claimed that your pack bonds had merely been severed, but that you
still lived. Your pack bonds must be restored, and quickly. I’ll let your new
leaders explain.”

Autumn Shadow
started off again, presumably leading them toward Ashayna Stonemantle and
Prince Sorntar. Beatrice’s own curiosity was roused by the lupwyn’s words.

“You know
something. Tell me what you know!” Silverblade shouted and started after Autumn
Shadow’s receding form.

Beatrice knew she
couldn’t possibly keep up to them without running, so didn’t even try. Councilor
Tav soon took the spot Silverblade had vacated. Although she appreciated having
another to walk with in this strange city of tents, Tav wasn’t exactly a
reassuring companion.

*****

Beatrice and the
councilor eventually caught up to Silverblade and Autumn Shadow. The two
lupwyns stood outside a pavilion that was four times as large as the others around
it. It wasn’t the large tent which made Beatrice slow her steps though. The two
lupwyns were waging what sounded like a vigorous argument. She couldn’t be
certain of the topic since they were speaking in the lupwyn tongue, but it
wasn’t a great stretch of the imagination to assume it had something to do with
her.

The tent flap was
pulled back and a tall phoenix with indigo plumage stepped out and looked at
the two snarling lupwyns. The crown prince’s expression showed mild curiosity,
but he seemed to decide it wiser not to get involved and turned in Councilor
Tav and Beatrice’s direction. He called a greeting to the councilor and then
his eyes landed on Beatrice and merriment lighted his face.

His long-legged
strides carried him forward quickly and he clasped both her shoulders. “Welcome
to the Twelve, little sister. It is a joyous occasion to greet another of our
number.” The honest warmth of his greeting negated any awkwardness she might
have felt at having a royal greet her in such a way.

Just behind the
phoenix prince the tent flap was tossed back a second time and Ashayna
Stonemantle emerged. Her eyes landed on Beatrice and she smiled. “It’s good to
see you survived your run in with the—”

The eldest
Stonemantle sister was cut off by a loud exclamation from inside the tent.

There was a minor
scuffle inside by the sound of it. “Shift over, I can’t squeeze through there.”
Another exclamation was followed by, “Ah. Get off my foot!”

The tent flap
snapped back a third time and the youngest of the Stonemantle sisters emerged.
She looked around, spotted Beatrice, and then ran, limping, over to her side.

Before Beatrice
had a chance to brace herself, the taller and stronger woman nearly knocked her
to the ground with an exuberant hug.

“I’m so relieved
those cursed acolytes didn’t get you or your grandmother and brother.” Sorsha
wrapped an arm around her and started to drag her bodily toward the tent. “It’s
about time we had some more good news. Ever since we mended the shattered
Falcon Staff all she’s spewed is dire news and dark tidings.”

“It’s good to see
you, too,” Beatrice said and smiled even though she’d didn’t know what her
friend was talking about. Relief washed over her body. There had been times she
wasn’t sure if she would ever see her friend again.

Sorsha slung an
arm around her shoulder. “Come. There’s much you and the lupwyn need to be
told.” The taller girl looked over to where Silverblade and Autumn Shadow had
finally stopped arguing to watch the spectacle that was the youngest
Stonemantle sister.

Silverblade
rejoined Beatrice and she thought he was going to apologize for leaving her
behind but Sorsha suddenly leaned back, craned her neck to look around Beatrice
to where Silverblade was standing on her other side.

Sorsha laughed,
directing her next comment at the lupwyn. “Ah, you’re the trapper that was
courting Beatrice. I thought there was something odd about you that one time we
met. The Falcon Staff only said that a lupwyn and another human had joined our
ranks. It wasn’t until Councilor Tav sent a message on ahead, that we learned
the human was Beatrice.”

Silverblade bowed
his head. “The Falcon Staff has my thanks. I’d not wish a third encounter with
the acolytes.”

“Persistent
bastards.” Sorsha agreed. She eyed Silverblade, taking in his altered form.
“Looks like you ran afoul of some powerful magic? Don’t worry, you should see
what one of the Oracle towers did to Shadowdancer and I.” Sorsha waved one
hand, gesturing back toward the tent.

When Beatrice
followed where the other woman pointed, it was all she could do not to gasp.
She’d seen many strange things in the last days. She’d met lupwyns, phoenix,
and santhyrians, but she couldn’t place what species she was looking at now.
Santhyrian partly? From the withers down, the male had the horse-like body of a
santhyrian, but merging seamlessly with the santhyrian part was a powerfully
built human upper body. Her healer’s magic wanted to immediately start a study
of him, but Beatrice reined it back, not wanting to insult Shadowdancer.

In truth he looked
like one of the creatures spoken of in legends back in her homeland. It took
her a moment to dredge up the name. Ah, yes. Centaur. Shadowdancer now looked
like a centaur.

“You met
Shadowdancer briefly when Prince Sorntar brought Ashayna back to River’s Divide
for a visit. This was the price we had to pay for the Oracle’s help. It’s a
price I’m now more than happy I paid. The Oracle’s magic allowed us to recover
the Falcon Staff before acolytes could find and consume her. It also saved my
life and gifted me with the ability to shapeshift.” Sorsha leaned forward and
added in a whisper. “He’s a little put out, because he hasn’t recovered enough
to shapeshift yet himself and finds it…frustrating.”

“My ears work
just fine, though,” Shadowdancer said in a bland voice.

Ashayna stepped
forward then. “We have many stories to share, but those will have to wait for
later. We have greater concerns that require our attention. The Falcon Staff
has warned that the acolytes’ master has plans for the people of River’s Divide.”