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"A wolf?" one guard uttered.
The only thing Wy
"Oh, good, you've got eyes… very useful, since you're standing watch."
"Watch your little tongue!" the second guard warned. "What's a wolf doing inside the guild?"
"Domin Parisean said it was supposed to walk with me," Wy
"A wolf? What do you take me for?"
"What do you expect?" Wy
With that she turned away, walking steadily down the path as Shade trotted out ahead. But Wy
She was shaking, waiting to be grabbed from behind. She was still shaking when she reached the gate and stepped out onto the Old Bailey Road.
And no one followed.
Wy
Cringing in bed, Chane cursed his weakness, and another wave of anxiety choked him.
Pain had beaten him down, and he could not banish it. He had finally succumbed and sent a message to Wy
Slipping it along with two silver pe
How could he have drawn Wy
"You coward!" he hissed at himself.
If he sent another message telling her not to come, it might not reach her in time. And he needed to know if she had recovered from whatever had made her collapse. There were also questions about the Suman who had appeared from nowhere to carry her off.
Chane sat up, groaned, and struck the sulfur stick on the stool to light his one candle.
He had fed on a blacksmith working late the night before, but that one fresh life had not been enough to fully heal him. The burns on his hands were still severe, though he had carefully peeled away flecks of charred skin. The ones on his face felt worse. If not for the cloak's hood shielding his hair, he would have lost some of that as well.
His shirtsleeves and one side of his cloak had caught fire from his own flesh. Tearing charred cloth from his forearms had been excruciating. He had an extra shirt, though he was not wearing it. The touch of the cloth on his wounds was too much. But he possessed no other cloak. Without one he could not hunt effectively, as the sight of him would shock his prey into flight and cries before he could close for a kill.
Chane had never been in such a state, never needed help like this—and he had no one to trust except Wy
A soft knock sounded at his door.
Chane could not separate shame, relief, and fear.
"Wy
"Yes. The i
Shame and fear grew—one for calling her here and the other at the thought of her looking upon him. But he was no longer alone in his suffering.
He lunged for the door and whimpered as he gripped the handle with his burned hand. When he cracked the door, he saw the charcoal-colored majay-hì.
Wy
Wy
A shudder ran through her when she peered at him.
"Oh," she whispered. "I… ah, no!"
He must look worse than he realized.
"It will pass," he rasped, and then cringed. He had become accustomed to the sound of his maimed voice, but hearing it when he spoke to her made him hate it more.
"I should not have asked you to come," he whispered.
The majay-hì began sniffing sharply, watching him. Its jowls curled.
"Stop it," Wy
When she looked back to Chane, her mouth opened. A frown passed briefly over her face, and her lips closed, possibly in some abandoned question she decided not to ask.
She pointed to the bed. "Sit down."
Chane stepped closer, and the dog did growl. Wy
Wy
It took an instant before he understood. She had never seen him without a shirt, and his back was covered in white scars.
"No, those are old," he said. "From… before."
This was not the time or place to tell her of his life before death, or about his father. Changing the subject, he gestured at the staff lying behind him on the bed.
"Is that what you carried last night?"
Wy
"Without Magiere or Chap," she said, "I needed my own defense."
So it was the same staff—and under the leather sheath was the searing crystal.
"Where did you get it?"
"Our guild alchemists make certain things, such as the cold lamp crystals," she answered, her tone careful and matter-of-fact. It was obvious she did not want to say much about it. "I'm still learning to use it properly," she added.
Chane considered himself intelligent, though only moderately skilled in conjury, but to create or even conceive of a crystal that carried light that burned like the sun…
There were moments when Wy
She drew a small ceramic jar from inside her pocket. "A healing salve," she explained.
"That will not help… me."
"You're suffering," she said bluntly, and knelt down. "It may still numb the pain."
Chane kept quiet, fearing she might vanish. It was hard to believe she was here, tending to his comfort. Only the pain seemed truly real. The rest felt as though one of his fantasies harbored over the last year had suddenly swelled into a full delusion.
Her light brown hair hung in loose wisps, sticking to one olive cheek at the corner of her small mouth. Candlelight warmed her brown eyes as she reached for his right hand resting on his knee. Her eyes flickered briefly to his bare chest, and he wished he had do
"This may hurt," she said. "I didn't mean to injure you. I was trying to drive off that… thing, just before Domin il'Sänke appeared."
Wy
"Il'Sänke?" he echoed. "The one who carried you off?"
"Yes, and—"
"And he's a mage."
Wy
"Perhaps the one who created your crystal?"
Wy
The dog behind Wy
It would sense nothing of his nature—not while he wore the ring. Likely the female smelled that he was not right, or at least was not like other people. Chane wanted to ask Wy