Catch a Wolf

by A. Katie Rose

  “He can do that?” Witraz muttered to Alun.

  “—how to create from nothing, how to change myself, and others, into other creatures.”

  He gestured toward me. “Like turn a prince into a toad. I studied, in depth, the anatomy of almost every creature living or thought to have lived. I know how a dragon works.”

  His bright, almost fevered, eyes rested on me. I began to smile.

  “Since your kinsman didn’t study as you did,” I began. “He had no clue on how to make himself into a true dragon.”

  Ly’Tana stirred, grinning. “Damn, Raine, he could barely fly.”

  Rygel laughed. “If he had a proper education, he’d know how long to make his wings.”

  “I could fly better than he,” Ly’Tana added primly.

  “He’d also know how to create dragon hide.”

  “Dragon hide?” Kel’Ratan asked, puzzled.

  Ly’Tana chuckled. “Ja’Teel blew fire at Rygel and it didn’t mar his scales. Not even a mark. Yet, Rygel’s fire had Ja’Teel running for cover.”

  “Had he understood what a dragon is,” Rygel said with a grin, “he’d know that dragons are, for want of a better word, fireproof.”

  “He’d have never turned himself into a dragon to begin with,” Ly’Tana finished. “Rygel’s fire burned him.”

  “Ja’Teel gets excited sometimes,” Rygel went on, grinning. “He doesn’t think straight.”

  “I suspect your taunt accomplished its goal,” Ly’Tana added, her eyes smiling at Rygel. “You wanted him pissed.”

  “Well, of course.”

  “All right,” I said. “More explanation is needed here. What taunt?”

  “Everyone, I mean everyone,” Ly’Tana said happily, “heard how Ja’Teel threw a stink bomb at Rygel in the great hall and how Rygel retaliated by sending him up to the ceiling. Ja’Teel, of course is afraid of heights. He cried and pissed himself.”

  “A stink bomb?” Kel’Ratan asked, puzzled.

  Rygel gestured impatiently. “It’s a mixture of any nasty odor you can think of into a ball. He hit me with it in front of the entire court. He bloody humiliated me. Of course, I retaliated.”

  Rygel grinned sheepishly. “And, well, I got strapped for it later.” His hand washed through his wealth of blonde hair. “It took nearly a week to get the stink off, too.”

  “Why would you get strapped?” Ly’Tana asked.

  “When one is the heir apparent, one should be above publicly punishing an irritating younger cousin.”

  Ly’Tana half-shrugged, half-nodded in understanding. Kel’Ratan’s eyes bulged again.

  “You? You’re the heir to the throne?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  Rygel eyed him with disillusion. “I was,” he snapped. “At that time. Technically, I’m a prince, but no, I’m no longer the heir. Hopefully, my brother’s kid is. If he’s had one by now.”

  “ That’s what angered Ja’Teel so he couldn’t think straight?” I asked. “Being reminded of an incident when he was what? Ten?”

  “Eleven,” Rygel replied. “I was fourteen. You see, Ja’Teel cannot abide being reminded of that incident. Then, as now, his humiliation was seen by everyone. His ego is so very fragile, he cannot abide anyone thinking of him as anything but a powerful force.”

  “Now his new pals know him for what he is,” Kel’Ratan said. “He’s a human coward who cried and wet his britches. Why did you send him to the ceiling? Why not turn him into a mouse and yourself into a cat?”

  Rygel’s amber eyes danced. “Because he’s terrified of heights.”

  “Ah.”

  “Know your enemy,” Rygel grinned. “I know right where to poke him.”

  “He also knows where to poke you,” I said. “Remember that.”

  Rygel merely shrugged. “His pseudo-dragon hide protected him to some degree, but I know right now he’s sporting one hell of a sunburn.”

  “You didn’t kill him?” Ly’Tana exclaimed. “You chased him across the sky and still didn’t kill him?”

  Rygel grimaced. “He translocated himself somewhere before I could turn him to ashes. I spent some time hunting for him, but I couldn’t find him.”

  “Aren’t dragons rather stupid creatures?” Witraz ventured.

  “Not at all,” Rygel answered. “Not only are they highly intelligent they, as a race, have quite a noble spirit. Very generous and friendly, if approached right. Even so, they have incredibly short tempers. One of my masters had a long conversation with one until my master said something wrong and the dragon got angry. My master escaped with a burned arse.”

  “Conversations?” Kel’Ratan asked, skeptical. “They can talk?”

  Rygel gestured to Bar still circling a few rods above us, his attention riveted, like all of us, on Rygel and his lecture. “Bar here is intelligent, yet his language is incomprehensible to most of us.” He cocked his head, smiling, toward Ly’Tana above and behind me. “But Her Highness can understand him. I suspect love has a great deal to do with that. Dragons can speak as humans do. When they choose to, that is. Dragons despise humans and want nothing at all to do with us.”

  “But your master made one angry,” Kel’Ratan said.

  “Yes. But had the dragon really wanted to kill him, my master would never have been my master. His ashes would have floated on the wind.”

  I vaulted into my saddle, sending water flying. “We should cease our little gabfest and start riding. Brutal may have started his search for us by now.”

  “His camp was nothing but shambles when I flew over,” Ly’Tana said. “I’m guessing ’twill be a day or more before he collects himself enough to start.”

  “A day or a week, it doesn’t matter if we don’t get ahead of him,” I replied, touching the side of her face with my fingers. I included her in my grim look as I glanced about. “Riding through this will take us weeks. Weeks we don’t have.”

  “A moment, my prince,” Rygel said, a small smile playing about his aristocratic lips. “I took a bit of time and flew over the storm’s path. Oddly, its damage was primarily to this area and east of here, where it blew itself out over the sea. After about five or so miles, if we ride north, we hit undamaged forest. By nightfall we’ll be out on the open grasslands.”

  “But those five miles may kill us,” I answered, irritated. “Look how long it took us to go barely three.”

  I knew he wanted to be arrogant and watched him puff himself up for another of his drama sessions. His hand rose as though he set himself for another lecture and his irritating I-know-more-than-you drawl. I’d had it up to here with that crap.

  I cut him off with a glare. His mouth snapped shut when he caught my eye. He visibly wilted, his hand came down and he sighed.

  “I can clear a path,” he said quietly. “I can’t do much about the water, the horses will have to work a little harder. But they can trot, or gallop, if necessary.”

  “How?” Kel’Ratan asked, bewildered. “Can you make the downed trees go away with magic?”

  “I won’t have to,” he answered. “Dragon fire will burn them to ash.”

  “Through the water?” Ly’Tana gasped.

  “Dragon fire can burn through water,” he said, smiling. “As a dragon, I can clear a wide and safe path for you to ride. Unfortunately, if Brutal and Ja’Teel find the path, they can use it, too.”

  “Mount up,” I ordered tersely, gathering Rufus’s reins.

  None looked to either Ly’Tana or Kel’Ratan for permission to obey me. To a man, they vaulted into their saddles and took up their reins. Corwyn mounted, and once more pulled the stolen grey mare in behind his roan.

  “As before, I lead,” I said, turning about to look down the line.

  Rufus fretted a little, wanting to run. I held him back as Ly’Tana nudged her buckskin to ride beside me. “Yuri and Yuras, you’re the rearguard.” As one, they saluted me, fist to chest, and walked their horses to their position behind Corwyn and his charges. If either Ly’Tana o
r Kel’Ratan objected to my ordering their men around, neither voiced it.

  “I’ll spell our trail with magic,” Rygel said. “If anyone stumbles across is, they’ll wander about, lost, going off in all directions. That should give us some lead time.”

  “What of your power?” Kel’Ratan asked. “Won’t all this exhaust you?”

  “Oh, please,” Rygel snorted. “I’m the best there is.”

  He bent down, readying himself when Ly’Tana spoke up. “Don’t go dragon until you’re clear of the horses. We almost lost a few when you swooped by earlier.”

  Rygel looked sheepish. “Oops. I reckon horses don’t much care for dragons, do they?”

  His grin widened. “Don’t forget to tell them about your little discovery, Princess.”

  The red-brown hawk took off from the stump with a screech, beating for the sky, dodging Bar’s sweeping wings. I shaded my eyes against the sun, seeing nothing but the outline of hawk wings against its brilliance. One heartbeat passed, then another.

  Suddenly the sun vanished. A chill passed down over my arms and chest. Rygel’s dragon filled the sky, its bronze, rugged beauty eclipsing even the sun’s power. Wings that blocked the skyline swept serenely up and down as Rygel’s dragon banked up and eastward, his head snaking under his leathery wings to peer down at us. Flames licked past his huge jaws and the rows upon rows of back-curving wicked teeth.

  Despite knowing ’twas Rygel who flew up there, I felt a primal fear, an instinctive urge to run, dig a hole as far as I could and stay there. For what could save me should that dragon decide to swoop down to kill? Nothing. No weapon on this earth could prevent such a beast as this from killing when and whom it pleased.

  “Beautiful,” Ly’Tana murmured.

  I glanced at her. She too, shaded her eyes to watch as Rygel winged high overhead, flames erupting from his jaws. Rygel held all of them in thrall, I noticed. None of the Kel’Hallan warriors, nor Tor, nor Corwyn, looked anywhere but at the stupendous beast that flew eastward to bank around once more toward us.

  Timid Arianne watched with none of the trepidation I felt. Her blue-grey eyes glowed, her lips smiled, her midnight hair flung back proudly from her beautiful face. Of all of us, I thought, she would fear a dragon the most. Instead, she seemed the most delighted.

  Rygel lined up behind us, flying as low as he dared. The horses, seeing him come, panicked. As I still held Ly’Tana’s buckskin’s reins, I pulled him close to my knee. My other hand tightened up on Rufus, to prevent him from pitching should his fears take hold. I’d never had to rein him in like this before, he’d faced everything I ever asked of him with calm courage.

  Only the grey mare wanted to bolt. Corwyn’s firm hand on her bridle kept her in check and her passengers on board. All the other horses accepted the dragon’s second visit with wide white eyes, sweat and only fearful snorts. Rygel flew over, at a sharply angled descent, his shadow casting all into darkness for several seconds. Not far ahead of us, perhaps ten rods or so, his flames seared downward.

  Steam boiled up, white fogs of thick steam rose as Rygel’s dragon fire burned through the water. His huge wings kept him airborne as he slowly advanced, burning all before him. Each long breath he inhaled, he exhaled a longer breath of raging hot fire. Even with the distance, my skin felt as though I had stood inches from a conflagration. Sweat popped out to cool my flesh and instantly dried under the intense heat. I suspected I’d be as sunburned as Ja’Teel before the day was out. On the hot wind from his passage, I scented the odor of burned wood and boiling, nasty water.

  “Come on,” I yelled over the raging inferno from Rygel’s dragon jaws. “We ride.”

  Tossing Ly’Tana her reins, I nudged Rufus into a fast trot. Beside me, Ly’Tana’s face burned red from the searing heat. A quick glance over my shoulder showed Kel’Ratan hard on our heels, his face redder than his hair. Despite all, he sported a huge grin.

  “Let that royal bastard follow that,” he boomed, laughing.

  The Kel’Hallans rode in single line behind us, urging their horses into a faster pace.

  Rygel’s plan worked. He cleared a path wide enough that three horses could have walked abreast. No tree trunks, limbs or branches remained under the water that washed in to replace that which Rygel’s flame boiled away. Yet, the water only came up to the horse’s pasterns, the earth below being too firm yet to have been turned to mud. We splashed through easily, following the golden-bronze dragon.

  So efficiently did Rygel burn away the deadwood, I upped our speed to a canter. Within moments, we galloped. Any faster than that, we would have stepped on Rygel’s spade tail. If we galloped while Brutal’s troops were to carefully navigate the fallen trees at less than a walking pace….

  “We’ve done it!” Ly’Tana suddenly crowed, exulted. “He’ll never be able to catch up.”

  I stood in my stirrups and glanced back along the line, seeing the water fill in where we had just ridden. There were still enough broken trees about that if one didn’t know of the trail, it would be easy to miss. If Rygel’s spell worked, anyone who found the path where no deadwood lay would be sent wandering. Perhaps she was right. I turned back to grin down at her.

  “Our horses have rested,” Kel’Ratan called forward. “His made the trek from Soudan, plus Rygel’s dragon sent them hither and yon. They won’t have the stamina to maintain this pace, even if they get clear of the downed trees.”

  Ly’Tana’s red-gold hair blew back from her face with the wind of her stallion’s passage, her emerald eyes gleamed with hope and happiness. Gods above and below, she was exotic and barbaric and beautiful. She looked like a pagan goddess from the tales of old.

  I couldn’t help it. I nudged Rufus over until we rode knee to knee. In a move I’d never tried before from a galloping horse, never thought I’d ever have the possibility of trying, I leaned across and kissed her full on her smiling lips. I heard Kel’Ratan’s guffaw from behind me, but this time I didn’t care.

  My left hand cupped her neck, my lips moving up and down with the motion of our horses. I felt her curving grin before she kissed me back, her devilish tongue probing mine before Rufus stumbled and broke the contact. Damn you, Rufus. The only time you’ve ever made me curse you.

  Ly’Tana laughed. A laugh of such pure joy, relief and triumph I smiled in response just to hear it.

  “We’re free, Raine!” she yelled, her hand tangled with mine. “We beat him!”

  I laughed with her, hearing from the line behind me male laughter and warrior bawdy jokes. I suspected the release of pent-up tension had a great deal to do with the sudden change in atmosphere, for I felt it myself. The Kel’Hallans tossed ribald jests back and forth, most concerned with Brutal’s sexual inadequacies.

  “What does Brutal and a goat have in common?” Witraz asked.

  His bawdy answer brought howls of laughter from Ly’Tana, Kel’Ratan, all the warriors and a blush to my hairline. I had heard everything one could hear in the slaves’ quarters and gladiator’s barracks. Witraz’s joke was but one of thousands.

  But Arianne? I slewed in my saddle, worrying that the raucous male jokes might make her afraid. Rather than a fearful slave who may have been the butt of such jokes, I found a laughing young woman, one hand grasping the pommel of her saddle, the other covering her mouth as she laughed as hard as anyone.

  “She’s fine, Raine,” Ly’Tana said, her hand in mine gripping hard. “You worry too much.”

  “Do I?” I asked, lifting her hand to my lips for a kiss. “I reckon I fear she’s so fragile, so—”

  “Tough,” Ly’Tana answered for me. “She’s tougher than you think. She’s braver than you think.”

  “Not nearly as tough or as brave as you,” I murmured over her hand. “You, lady, carry that title. You always will.”

  “Such a courtier,” Ly’Tana laughed, blushing a faint tinge of pink.

  “I thought I was an oaf.”

  “Don’t forget bastard.”

  �
�Ah, thank you. Oaf and bastard, I remember now.”

  Her tinkling laughter sounded like music, sweet music, in my ears. Until Kel’Ratan’s ever practical voice interfered. I gritted my teeth to prevent turning in my saddle and belting him across his inquisitive mouth.

  “What did you discover?” he asked, calling forward. “What happened that you’re avoiding telling us?”

  One by one, the warriors stilled their warrior laughter and lewd banter. Galloping beside me, Ly’Tana’s happy laughter quieted and her smiling lips turned down.

  Damn you, Kel’Ratan. At that moment, I hated him. Hated him for making her not smile. For slaughtering her laughter. For killing her happiness. Damn you to hell for it.

  “This is all so crazy,” she exclaimed, trying for a smile. It wasn’t much of a success, from my point of view. “I can’t believe it’s even real.”

  “Why don’t you let us be the judge on it,” I suggested.

  “And executioner, I hope,” she laughed.

  Her laugh held as much mirth as her smile happiness. Something was very wrong from Ly’Tana’s point of view. I hedged a guess.

  “You saw something, in the city,” I said quietly. “Something you didn’t expect to see. Am I correct?”

  Ly’Tana faced forward, over her stallion’s bobbing head. I glanced over my shoulder at Kel’Ratan, who shrugged, mystified.

  “Well,” she ventured bravely, forcing another smile and a half glance at me. “We saw what was left of Adhas’s house. And Adhas. Not much of either.”

  I willed her to look at me. I seized her hand, her right hand, her sword hand. Still, she refused to turn her face, the false smile painted on her lips, her emerald eyes brilliant with unshed tears. Her devilishly pink tongue crept out to moisten her upper lip.

  Look at me.

  She obeyed, her teary eyes meeting mine for the barest fraction of an instant. Another forced laugh choked her throat. “It’s all silly, really. Adhas died and the Whoring Whale lived. There must be justice in the world, after all.”