When he came up behind her, she whirled back toward him. “You never answered my question about whether I met muster. Is it because I’m the ugliest, most poorly conformed, sway-backed old nag you’ve ever laid eyes on?” Sorsha twisted to look over her shoulder with a little shrug. “It’s hard to tell from this angle.”
“You’re beautiful.” The words spilled from him without thought or conscious decision on his part. But he did not want to take them back.
“Oh…” She let her words trickle off into silence, and then seemed to change her mind a moment later. “You’re sure you’re not just saying that to make up for the earlier comment about being a monster?”
Shadowdancer pushed his dripping hair out of his eyes. Catching her under the chin, he lifted her face up to meet his gaze. He pressed kisses to both cheeks, her nose, and gave a quick caress of lips. He placed another kiss on her forehead. “You’re still my fierce, beautiful Herd Mistress; the mistress of my heart.”
She tilted her face up to him, her expression transmitting her joy. “It doesn’t matter to me what shape you wear, either.”
Her words speared deep into his heart, and he wrapped both arms around her shoulders, hugging her to him, while he mumbled softly into her ear. For the first time since he’d awaken in the Oracle’s pool, he was no longer quite so frightened. This was Sorsha. Their souls had been entwined through many lifetimes—the Oracle’s words had even given credence to what Shadowdancer had always sensed. She loved him when he was still a santhyrian, she loved him when he was a man. Of course, she would still love him even when he was the Oracle’s Harbinger.
Hand in hand, they made their way back to Shadowdancer’s small camp.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Now what?”
In the wake of her question, she heard Shadowdancer shift position. Blinded by the light of the campfire, she couldn’t make out his expression, but he’d been abnormally quiet since they’d eaten their dinner of cooked oats and greens. Strangely—or perhaps not so strangely—she found leafy greens far more appealing than she used to.
“You’re thinking again, I can tell.” She swished her tail against her flank for the sheer novelty of it.
“Actually, I’ve been in contact with my father.”
Sorsha cursed herself silently for not figuring that out sooner. The Oracle had healed Shadowdancer’s Larnkin; he’d now be able to communicate with his Herd, with his family. What had he revealed to them, she wondered? “Sorry if I interrupted.”
“You didn’t. I finished a while ago.” He sighed, and looked into the fire. “I was just watching you.” He paused again, and then continued with another slight hesitation. “You’re beautiful.”
“Well, myself, I’m still warming to my horse’s ass.”
He laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t referring to physical beauty. Though, you do make a lovely Harbinger.” He chuckled again. “You have a bright soul and a caring heart—they transcend worldly beauty.”
Heat bloomed on her cheeks. Never comfortable with compliments, Sorsha sought another topic. “What are we going to do about Trensler? He’ll gain a whole day’s ride while you wait for me to recover.”
“I doubt Trensler has made it that far ahead of us. The way he and his men treat their horses, if he doesn’t allow them rest, the poor beasts will begin to drop out from under them. No matter how much Trensler’s master is salivating for the shattered Falcon Staff, Trensler is shrewd enough not to strand his men out here, deep in our territory. My father and the Lupwyn Queen are gathering an army, and will meet us outside the temple.” Shadowdancer nodded his head toward the Oracle’s gift. Both longbows and the two quivers full of arrows rested against a tree trunk within easy reach, should they need them. “I passed on the information about long range weapons and non-magical fire. They’ll avoid hand-to-hand combat if they can.”
“Then we just have to get there before Trensler and get the Staff’s remains safely away.” Sorsha reached out for one of the Oracle’s unique arrows, still in awe that the liquid-filled shafts retained perfect balance. She twirled it once, and then brushed her thumb over the black arrowhead with its strange bead of glass at the center. All it took to ignite was the smallest trickle of magic and the command to burn. Then the non-magical fuel within the shaft would leak out and incinerate the intended target.
“Yes, but you need rest first. Tomorrow, we’ll head out at first light. By late afternoon, we should find a trail that leads into the mountains. There are trails cut high up the slopes. They’re very old, probably part of a road which led to the temple and surrounding villages long ago. They were still passable last I travelled them. We should be able to make good time and outpace Trensler. There are even a few spots along the trail that run along the uppermost ridge of the mountains. With a short climb to the top, we might be able to spy upon Trensler’s party.”
Sorsha hated the thought of not knowing exactly how far ahead Trensler really was, and she saw the wisdom in Shadowdancer’s reasoning. Besides, Sorsha’s eyesight wasn’t sharp enough to travel on an overcast night. She sighed and shifted positions, her hooves churning up the dry, sandy dirt underneath her. Frowning, she silently debated how best to position herself to sleep. Last night hadn’t been a problem—she’d just collapsed, exhausted after the candlemarks of learning to use her new legs. At dawn, she’d awoken in a twisted, uncomfortable position. It had taken almost a candlemark to work all the kinks out. Idly, she wished for a nice, soft bed—a really big bed, she amended, one with lots of pillows.
Shadowdancer stood and came around the fire. Firelight danced along his body as he moved. After a moment of turning to find the best place to sit, he sank onto the ground behind her, close enough for her to feel the heat of him against her human back and along her santhyrian body. A muscular arm wrapped her in a tight embrace and urged her to lean back against his chest. For once Sorsha didn’t argue and found the position surprisingly comfortable.
“Sleep,” he whispered into her ear.
“What about you?” Even with the ground sunbaked hard enough to resemble a slab of rock, her eyelids drooped and she ground her teeth against a yawn.
“I’ll take first watch. I’ll wake you midway through.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” She yawned again and snuggled closer, tucking her face against his shoulder. “Swear you’ll wake me for my turn at watch.”
He raised a hand in surrender. “I swear.”
“Good,” she said, words slurring with exhaustion.
“Sleep well, Herd Mistress.”
* * * *
“Why did they split up here, of all places?” Sorsha frowned down at the soft dirt, which showed with unmistakable proof that four riders had broken away from the main group and headed back into the mountains while the rest of the acolytes continued on down the length of the valley. She and Shadowdancer had been following the troop for the better part of the day, and not once had the acolytes broken formation until now. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. What are they after?”
“Us. Magic. Other santhyrians in the area,” Shadowdancer replied with a shrug as he stood a little way ahead, studying the tracks with an expression as tense as Sorsha felt. “And we can’t follow to find out or the main group might pull ahead of us too far. That might even be their plan.”
“You think they’re setting traps? But how can they even know we’re following them?”
“We know they can sense magic. They might be able to sense us and are laying an ambush. Or it may just be a precaution. They may even simply be seeking a high vantage point.” Shadowdancer exhaled and started trotting in the direction the large group had taken. “Unfortunately, while we don’t have the luxury to investigate what the smaller group seeks, we know the majority of the acolytes hunt the Falcon Staff. I’ve sent word to Father about the acolytes’ change in tactics.”
“I don’t like it.” Sorsha followed Shadowdancer, her hooves dragging as she half-turned to look beh
ind her. Her hand tightened around her bow until her knuckles whitened. “Ashayna always said allowing enemies to out-flank you was a good way to make Death’s acquaintance.”
“Your sister is wise.” Shadowdancer halted to allow her to catch up. “And I like to have enemies ahead and behind no better than you. But we have no choice. We still have a lot of ground to cover and we can’t risk the Wild Path—Trensler’s master controls the Wardlen. That leaves us with only our hooves and our willpower.”
“The Oracle made me fast, very fast. Probably for this very reason. Let me follow them for a candlemark. Once I learn what we are up against, I’ll hurry back to your side and you will not have lost any ground against the main group. It’s a sound plan. I’ll stay hidden, and I won’t engage them in a fight. I swear I won’t take foolish risks. But we must know where the others are, or risk getting surrounded.”
“You’ll be exhausted from the pace. Have you forgotten what it took out of you the first time you had to make up ground to chase me down?”
“Then I’ll hole up somewhere safe to rest for a short time and find you when I’m able. I can track your progress with our link.”
Shadowdancer snorted, but the sound lacked all humor. “Why are we even having this conversation? Do you actually think I’m going to allow you, an untrained Herd Mistress and the woman I love, to go off by yourself and intentionally seek out danger.”
“Actually, the old Shadowdancer would certainly not allow me to go off by myself. But the Oracle’s Harbinger should know his duty is to protect everyone and not just one Herd Mistress, even if she is his beloved.”
Fists clenched, jaw tense, shoulders stiff, Shadowdancer held himself immobile as he locked gazes with her in challenge. She didn’t flinch at his attempt to stare holes in her head.
“You know I’m right.” Sorsha sighed. It sounded sad to her own ears. In truth, she didn’t want to be away from Shadowdancer for any length of time. It would only give him time to get closer to the main group of acolytes.
“Yes.” His harsh reply was laced with bitterness, as if the one word caused him pain.
“I’ll be as quick as I can, and keep in contact using our mental link.” Sorsha stepped up to him and reached out for a hug.
His arms snaked around her shoulders, dragging her closer. He didn’t kiss her or rail at her words. He simply rested his forehead against hers. “Come back to me. Swear it.”
She pressed her lips to his, more promise than passion. “I swear.”
* * * *
Hunkered down against an outcropping of rock, Sorsha tried to shield her thoughts and bank the magic of her Larnkin. As hiding places went, hers was a good one considering she’d been forced to find it in a hurry when she’d first spotted the dust cloud in the distance. It gave her a clear view of the trail while hiding her from anyone riding below. She was as certain as she could be of her safety, but her earlier nervousness came back in a rush when she heard a sound like distant thunder.
Glancing far down the ravine where the cloud of dust rose above the track, Sorsha witnessed the first acolyte emerge from around a tight bend. His mount barely slowed at the turn and was already stretched into that ground-eating pace only a santhyrian could maintain.
Sorsha’s stomach tightened into an uncomfortable knot. She’d found the reason for the acolytes’ detour and wished she had remained in ignorance. Tears slid down her cheeks as she watched another acolyte astride a santhyrian come around the curve in the trail. This acolyte held a length of rope and led several other santhyrians. They’d been tied together with halters made from finely spun, knotted rope. Two other acolytes rode into view leading more captives.
As the first thundered past her hiding place, Sorsha leaned over for a better look. All her fears were confirmed. Keldar, one of Trensler’s favorite acolytes, rode his dull-eyed mount with ease. While she didn’t know what had been done to kill the santhyrian’s personality, she knew danger when she saw it.
The other acolytes rode underneath her ledge, their mounts equally as lifeless as the first.
With every fiber of her being, Sorsha wanted to leap out of her hiding place and attack using her bow and arrows, but common sense held her back. They were too close; they’d begin feeding before she could kill them all, and she didn’t know how fast it took them to drain a victim. And she’d promised Shadowdancer.
Sorsha held her place until the enemy was well out of sight, then she summoned her magic. “Shadowdancer,” Sorsha called out in mindspeech, “the acolytes found what they sought.”
“I hear you, beloved. Speak.”
“They have santhyrian mounts.” Sorsha sent him an accompanying image.
Shadowdancer held his silence for several heartbeats. She could still feel him in her mind, his anger and grief overwhelming. He knew the small herd the acolytes had captured and enslaved. They’d sometimes run with his family herd. The lead mare and stallion were both missing.
At Shadowdancer’s thoughts, a small spark of hope ignited in Sorsha’s heart, quickly squashed by his next words. “They are already dead, probably fed upon. Neither one would let the acolytes enslave their herd while they still lived.”
A cold chill raced down Sorsha’s back at the memory of the santhyrians with their dull eyes. They had been denied the icy kindness of a clean death.
“We need a new plan,” Shadowdancer whispered into her mind. “If they continue on their present route, there’s no assurance I’ll get to the temple in time to get the Staff safely away before the evil ones arrive.”
“But what other choice do we have?”
“There is a shorter route, one which will take candlemarks off our journey, but makes it far more perilous. There’s a pass high up in the mountains where rock and snow can shift uneasily, entombing the unwary.”
“Honestly, that sounds more pleasant than what will happen if Trensler ever corners us. I’ll risk the rock and snow. Where should I meet up with you?”
“I see your location in your mind. Backtrack until the path forks. Follow the fork up higher into the mountains.” An image of the place appeared in her mind. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Shadowdancer, be careful. You have enemies behind as well as ahead.”
“Our enemy is fast, but I’m faster.” A hint of pride colored his tone. “I’ll be with you again soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ahead, the banner of Shadowdancer’s tail became Sorsha’s guidepost. Far beyond merely winded, she maintained a fast trot only through pride, willpower, and spite for Trensler. I’m a Stonemantle. I’ll not allow that hateful old man to win.
But with each stride, Shadowdancer was gaining ground. It didn’t help that they were high into the mountains, where the air was thinner, the wind relentless, and the ancient trail had been reduced by the weather into nothing more than a rocky goat trail. Sorsha slowed to a walk when the path veered around a sharp bend and started to climb another steep slope. With his frequent backward glances, Shadowdancer was bound to notice her flagging pace. Deciding she’d better pull up before he had a chance to scold her for not telling him she needed a rest, she called out to him. “I must stop.”
Shadowdancer halted so suddenly, it was almost comical. He swiftly doubled back and approached with what Sorsha was coming to recognize as his ‘mothering’ look.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He all but shouted as he walked in a circle around her. He reached back and pulled a blanket from his pack. “While you can run circles around me when you’re fresh, I thought we established you don’t have my stamina. You promised to tell me before you lamed yourself.” He continued to grouse at her as he began rubbing the blanket over her damp coat.
“I just told you.”
He rumbled some unintelligible reply under his breath and continued rubbing her with more vigor. When the majority of the sweat was mopped from her body, he swatted her across the rump. “Keep walking.” Crossing his arms, he bestowed another of his black frown
s upon her. “I said walk, not trot. You need to cool yourself down.”
“I know, I know.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Mother.”
He grunted, but kept pace with her, occasionally reaching out to run a hand down a hip or leg, checking for abnormal heat or swelling.
Finally fed up with his cloistering, she swatted his searching hands away. “I’m fine. I just needed to slow down for a while.”
“No, you’re not fine. You’re nearly dead on your feet.”
Sorsha would have continued the debate, but the path widened, opening into an unnatural plateau. It was like something had come and cut away the mountain’s peak, leaving a smooth, completely flat area in its place.
“Bright Light,” she whispered. Then, gathering her wits, she turned to Shadowdancer for an explanation.
“Long ago, before the Elementals lived under a unifying monarchy and council, the phoenix hunted in these mountains and valleys, nesting just a day’s ride from here. The temple was built to serve their needs. Other trails, like the one we are following, all lead to platforms such as this. Here, the other land-bound races came to trade with the phoenix for the gold and other precious metals the Fire Elementals could melt and call out of the mountains.”
“Mercy.” Sorsha trotted farther across the unnaturally broad, flat mountaintop, and stopped well away from the edge with its sheer drop. Below, a lush valley stretched between the mountains, a jewel-bright ribbon showcasing nature’s bounty. It seemed so out of place compared to the surrounding snow-capped, grey peaks. “By the Gods, it’s beautiful.”
Shadowdancer approached from behind, the ring of his hooves echoing ahead of him as he slid alongside. A gust of wind picked up and howled through the mountains. It snatched at her hair, twisting it around her head as her tail whipped out behind her. Instinctively, she pressed into him, pushing them both away from the steep edge. Shadowdancer chuckled, skirted around her and put himself between her and the empty air.
In Deception's Shadow Box Set: Book 1-3 Page 49
