Stormrider (20 page)

“There is no good place to lead the
Jaiqi
except perhaps over a cliff,” Raptor spat. “Just where does he think we’re going after someone performs this surgery—who by the way isn’t going to be me?”

A shrug from Stormrider. “Strongheart has not said. He knows I trust him and his judgment. His judgment, if I have to remind you, is what saved your life.”

Raptor grunted. The pony rolled gently beneath them. “You can trust him—I want to know where we’re going.”

It matters little now since we must soon stop to rest and water the horses, myself included, as well as The People and wolves.

The thoughts, cropping up in Raptor’s mind so abruptly, startled him. They were true enough, but they felt strange, foreign, not his own.

He glanced down at the wolf, then at the back of Stormrider’s head. “You said something?” Perhaps he’d heard her speak, his thoughts being preoccupied elsewhere, and didn’t even realize it, processing her words as his own thoughts.

“No, you say enough for us all. But the horses are tiring. Strongheart is right to say we should stop.”

She had earlier said nothing yet now spoke the words of his thoughts. It was puzzling. Nonetheless the dun pony was shortening his stride, slowing, and Raptor had done nothing to signal a change in gait. The rough, sturdy desert ponies had already given much more than any should ask of them. Up ahead between Littlefoot and One Eye the other ponies were also slowing. Almost in tandem as if one had passed the word to another. A fluid gallop gave way to a choppy trot and, with the oasis in sight, slowed to a brisk walk.

Delicate heads, drooping from short, well-muscled necks, sides heaving, the ponies were a bedraggled bunch dragging in to the sparkling pool. It beckoned, surrounded in a half circle by tall, slender trees, offering welcome but sparse shade, a faint intervention between sun and sand.

The People slid in ones and twos to the ground in exhaustion from the ponies’ backs and both horses and people staggered toward the water.
 

Stormrider threw her leg over the dun pony’s neck and slipped gracefully to the ground to be surrounded immediately by the three wolves in a boisterous display of greeting with much tail wagging, body wriggling and nose touches.

Flattened by their furry assault, Stormrider was trying to stroke or touch each of the three huge wolves at the same time and finding some success as they swarmed over her.

It was silly, but Raptor found himself almost embarrassed at watching the tender intimacy of the joyful reunion. It was a private moment, one not meant to be shared, yet he couldn’t help but watch her in fascination.
 

Stormrider was as fully a part of the wolves as they were a part of her. It was humbling. And, it touched a long numbed chord within the hardened bounty hunter.

For the first time in memory Raptor thought of the past. For the first time in his long career as a bounty hunter, he felt truly alone. It was a peculiar feeling, one which shortened his breath and stung the backs of his eyes. When his throat began to clench, he turned and walked away. The dun pony followed.

Raptor knew he was going to have to separate himself from these people and he was going to have to do it soon. He considered his debt to Stormrider/Tanith paid. They were not partners, nor did he seek a partner. She plainly had no desire for one. And, there remained The Amulet to retrieve, with payment to be received. He was no Janissary; reward came only in direct proportion to accomplishment. For just an instant he wondered what it would be like to be as Stormrider was.

Stormrider was overcome by the wolves’ exuberant greeting; awash in mind-touch, swamped by information they wished to relay, so much so her mind refused to accept it and for a moment went completely blank. Pummeled by warm, furry bodies, buffeted by the pack-link, Stormrider was consumed by a novel wellspring of joy surpassing anything ever experienced by her in her life. It filled her senses like a potent wine and threatened to make her giggle like a child. Everything within her heart, soul and mind responded to it and she sank into its embrace with no struggle and little awareness of anything or anyone else around her.

By the time she regained her feet, red-faced from her exertion so soon after the debilitating effects of the activated
Jaiqi
counter, everyone was openly staring at her. Everyone except Raptor who stood apart from The People, the dun pony resting its chin on his shoulder, staring out across the vast expanse of the Nashiran desert.

Stormrider glanced from The People who, whether they admitted it or not, owed plenty to this bounty hunter, and to that unusual desert pony who seemed disinclined to leave Raptor’s presence. One glance told her the other ponies had scattered near the clear pool of water and sparse graze.

Stormrider frowned a bit, squinting into the whiteness of the sun’s brilliance, the question forming in her mind as Strongheart brushed against her side.

He is for Raptor.
Strongheart answered her before she was positive what she intended to ask.
It is the word of the Ancient Ones.

“What do you mean the pony is for Raptor?” Stormrider protested almost jealously. “Is it the same as for you and me? How can that be when he is not of Nashira?”

Isn’t he?
A wolfish grin, then some vague agreement.

Not the same. None is the same. Nashira is not the same. She senses the Changes which are to come. She is merely expediting them, collecting to her breast those children who have come home.

If that didn’t confuse her, nothing would. She eyed Strongheart, then allowed her gaze to drift back to where Raptor stood, haloed in impossibly bright sunlight, the dun-colored pony standing very near, head lowered. Tired. Thirsty. But not leaving the man’s side.

Doubtfully, Stormrider mouthed the words, tasting them, listening to them even as she spoke them. “He is of The People? He bears no resemblance . . .”

Strongheart tossed his head then cast wise golden eyes upon her.
One does not have to be of The People to be of Nashira
.

“Will he understand?”

Did you . . . at first?

“Hela take him, he is a star-crossed bounty hunter! He is not of Nashira now if he ever was. You could be wrong. How can he begin to understand . . . to accept—?”

You are a Janissary. You were not of Nashira when you came back; you were of Antaris. How did you begin to understand and accept?

“You were there. You— By the three faces of the Goddess, you are confusing me! I think that meeting with the Ancient Ones rattled your brains as well. I don’t have time for this now. We have to get these things out of our necks before the
Jaiqi
manage to repair some fliers and arm themselves. I can’t stand here and debate races, heritage and a bounty hunter!”

That is as it should be. Do what you must. He will aid you.

“In case you didn’t hear him, he said he would not.”

Littlefoot; gentle mind-touch as she rubbed up against
 

Stormrider’s legs.
He will. He has a kind heart. He cannot help himself. He is also very practical. He will see shortly there is no escape without their removal, whatever the risk.

“It will take a lot of courage to do what we must. He was right. There is much more to it than a simple knife cut.”

One Eye, exasperated, sitting before her like a judge.

Then tell him and let us get this thing over with. There is no time for hesitation or debate. You have said it yourself
.

As One Eye finished his abrupt expletive, Raptor turned sharply and began walking back toward the huddled people, his stride carrying heavy purpose. The dun-colored pony trotted briskly alongside, an escort, then veered off to slake his own thirst at the pool. Raptor approached with a business-like stride.

Stormrider breathed a great sigh. “Goddess help me . . .”

Strongheart gave a deep huff, butted her leg with his head and sat before her, head cocked, jaws slightly agape in what Stormrider had come to perceive as his sly smile.
She is not here and I am afraid that we are all you have.

Chapter 17

“Have your senses accompanied Hela to the underworld leaving me with this shell which only
looks
like you?” Raptor nearly bellowed, having already straightened and gone rigid at Stormrider’s explanation of the built-in ambush of the
Jaiqi
counter should it be disturbed.

“No,” Stormrider returned calmly, her visage serene, not nearly as ruffled by the prospect as was Raptor. “It is as I have already said, dangerous but possible. There have been no further refinements since I removed the counter from my throat years ago. The Janissaries would have had access to such information if the
Jaiqi
had changed it. One isolated incident such as mine wouldn’t have been cause for refinement when it had worked so well in the past.”

Standing there before him, the soft, very dry breezes kissing her cheeks pink with the blessing of the sun, Stormrider appeared to Raptor as a delicate creature of the forest trapped out of its natural surroundings, yet all the more beautiful for it. He admired her, yes, he did. Perhaps a partner was a good idea— Perhaps not. Tanith Aesir had transformed into Stormrider, yet still clung to the credo of the Janissary. Melding of bounty hunter, wild, unfettered, independent of governments and duty, did not seem likely with Janissary—shackled by the Circle of Nine, custodian-protector of all the people of the alliance. Awkwardly he relegated the alien thoughts to a back compartment of his mind.

He crossed his arms over his chest, standing close to her using his size and the lean power of his angular body to attempt to intimidate.

It didn’t work.

It had never worked with Stormrider.

“It is far too dangerous,” he declared roughly. “We have to wait until we can locate a qualified medic.”

Unperturbed, Stormrider shook her head. Octurian flame shot through her hair in shimmering waves despite the clinging, dulling coat of dust. “Unless you believe we will find a medic here, it will not happen. We can go no further until the counters are removed. We can find no sanctuary until we are free of them. If that isn’t soon, we’ll all die. The
Jaiqi
have no mercy in their hearts and possess no souls at all. You have dealt with them in the past. You should know what I say is true.”

Her last words were sharp as a slap but Raptor still wasn’t convinced. He was, however, developing some doubts. If that wasn’t enough, the dun pony, having drunk his fill and rejoined them, was becoming a distraction.

“Still, it’s too dangerous,” Raptor protested, but not quite so vehemently. His glittering, dark fox eyes rested on Stormrider—remembering the Tanith she used to be, seeing clearly what she was becoming. And he became suddenly, irrationally, afraid for her. Annoyed, he brushed
that
emotion aside.

Raptor retreated more from the strident into the grump, back turned firmly on the rest of the people, focused only on Stormrider. Plainly this was not something to be avoided or put off. “How did you accomplish it the first time? Since it’s booby-trapped with a long, sharp wire tail which deploys the moment it is disturbed, how did you prevent it from severing your jugular?” Just with the question he knew he had lost. He was committed.
 

Patient, but becoming exasperated, Stormrider lay her finger along the tiny ridge in her neck beneath which lay the
Jaiqi
counter.

“It’s not instant. There’s a moment’s delay, but just a moment. To remove it one needs a steady hand and the swiftness of a posi snake. I can do it. You can do it. And I have no doubt Song Dog can do it as well. He will try. I’ve already spoken to him and the others here.”

“They would trust Song Dog to do such a thing? Young as he is?”

Stormrider laughed almost pityingly. “He is the son of a Shaman. Grandson of a great chief, trained and trusted by Grey Wanderer himself. They will trust him to do his best. His best will be sufficient. I will trust him if you will not do it. Boys grow up faster in Nashira.”

Raptor stared at her, aware of the pony’s warm breath on his cheek. “Yes,” he agreed with solemn deeper meaning. “Boys do grow up faster in Nashira.”

As do girls. Must not put her care in the hands of another.

Raptor gave a start. Thoughts. Again strangely not his own and yet of his mind. He glanced at the dun pony, hovering like a mother hen, then at the wolves scattered at Stormrider’s feet. He wrestled with memories long buried for a few moments and succeeded in keeping a revealing expression from his face.

There were none living who knew of his past. None. His memories belonged to only himself. There were times when he knew that to be best. There were other times when he was not so sure. But in all those times, through certainty and doubt, never had he chosen to share those memories with anyone. No matter how close they had mistakenly believed themselves to be to him. He’d frequently made up colorful stories about his youth to assuage some woman’s determined assault on his privacy, but the truth had never yet been spoken. And the truth was more colorful, more alienating, than any tale he could spin.

Stormrider watched as the play of emotions surged across Raptor’s face in a puzzling dance of subtleties he was so sure he had completely concealed.