Edit April 2010: FFN decided to eat all the scene dividers so I'm having to go back and add them all in again. I'm also removing the review responses. NOTHING ELSE HAS BEEN ALTERED; if you've read this story before, you don't need to read it again (although you're more than welcome to).
Lots of reviews this time! That makes me very happy. So happy, in fact, that you get an early update that's longer than usual. Because I love you all.
Naturally, he was in for a certain amount of teasing the following morning when Alanna and Onua discovered that he'd been driven from his tent by a thirteen year old girl. He had to admit it was quite funny, but he hadn't had much choice in the matter; wild magic or the Gift, when a mage was exhausted, they had to sleep, and nothing was going to wake Daine until she'd recovered. He did warn them not to tease her about it, though, not until he'd had a chance to see how she felt about yesterday's events.
She didn't wake up until the afternoon, by which time it was raining again. He'd rigged a canvas awning nearby so that he could keep an eye on her while he worked, and was bent over his notes when she finally crawled out of the tent, yawning. Numair smiled at her, setting his work down. "How do you feel?"
Typically, she ignored his question to ask one of her own. "How is she?"
"She's fine," he said reassuringly. "I saw her swim off a while ago. We had lunch," he added, handing over a bag. "I kept some for you."
As he'd expected, she fell on the food as though she hadn't eaten in weeks; it seemed that her magical exhaustion was indeed the same as that granted by the Gift. Smiling wryly, he returned to his notes until she spoke again.
"I can't believe how hungry I was."
"You worked hard," he pointed out. "Of course you're hungry."
"How long did it take?"
"Some hours – that's to be expected. Healing in wild magic is more difficult than it is with the Gift. Wild magic depends on the body's own power to mend what's damaged. The Gift simply restores health that was lost," he explained.
"One thing I don't understand," Daine said slowly, and Numair set his notes aside to give her his full attention. "Onua said I must've healed the birds in the marsh – remember? But I didn't know how to heal then, and it took me hours to do it now." She broke off and tried to stifle another yawn. "I'm also worn out. Maybe I fainted in the marsh, but I never felt like this."
"Hmm." He absently fingered the bridge of his nose, thinking about it. It was a pity he hadn't been in any state to watch what had happened in the marsh; it would have made things simpler. "Several possible theories exist," he mused aloud, "but only one fits both of the limitations you've just described. I'd have to say the birds' need to be healed pulled the magic out of you in raw form. You didn't force it to work within the limits of your strength then – you served only as a channel. The magnitude of the power transfer made you lose consciousness, but your overall health and reserves of strength were unaffected."
He surfaced from the lecture to make sure he hadn't lost her; she nodded slowly, and he smiled wryly. "That is the problem with wild magic – it has been known to act without the cooperation of the bearer." Even his own Gift wasn't quite that unpredictable, at least not now – although there had been one or two interesting events when he was younger.
"You mean it could happen again, and I couldn't stop it?" Daine asked uncertainly. Numair gave her a sympathetic look.
"I'm afraid so. If it's any help, I imagine the need in those connected to you by wild magic would have to be overwhelming. It's only happened once that you know of? No fainting spells as a child?" She shook her head.
"Once in thirteen years, then. I wouldn't worry, if I were you," he said reassuringly, and tried to hold back a grin when she yawned outright. "Go back to sleep," he told her dryly. "I'll wake you for supper." It seemed he'd be spending tonight sleeping under the wagon as well.
Daine recovered faster than he had expected; apparently wild magic regenerated more quickly than the Gift did, or she was simply stronger. Whatever the reason, her lessons over the next few days proceeded rapidly as they began practising with larger groups of different animals; each task he thought of took her less time to master, and she was devouring the anatomy lessons with astonishing speed.
Woken as usual by Sarge's bellow a few mornings later, Numair opened his eyes with difficulty and attempted to focus on the world around him; he wasn't much of a morning person and it was usually difficult to get anything coherent out of him until he'd been awake for a while. Distantly he heard Daine call, "Stop!" and crawled out of his tent to see who she was shouting at.
To his mild surprise, it turned out to be a herd of mule deer. He hadn't seen them this close before, and took a moment to enjoy the sight before he heard Daine speak again, closer this time. "What'm I doing? Go on, scat!" The deer did as they were told, and he felt proud of his student as he dragged himself to his feet and walked over to her, ignoring everyone staring.
"It's a good idea not to say anything out loud," he murmured, smiling when she looked up at him; she was doing very well indeed. "It keeps the uninitiated from noticing. Just a little professional advice."
The Lioness' voice interrupted them. "Congratulations, Numair. Your student learns fast." He nodded agreement, smiling down at Daine, who grinned back at him before answering.
"I have a good teacher." Absurdly pleased by the compliment, he reached out and playfully tousled her hair, before Sarge took over the proceedings and sent everyone scattering to gather their things.
They would be moving faster today; Numair wearily promised himself for what was probably the four hundredth time that someday he'd find time to actually learn to ride properly. It wasn't so much that he was a bad rider; he could stay in the saddle – most of the time – at any speed including a gallop, provided he had advance warning. He simply wasn't particularly graceful, and still hadn't quite mastered the knack of moving with the horse to minimise saddle soreness.
It was around noon when Daine found the injured rabbit. This time he let her do the work by herself, riding near the wagon to watch and to help if necessary; the road was rough here, and the jolting of the wagon kept breaking her concentration. Eventually she gave up on that and asked to switch places with him; that took a little manoeuvring, but finally she was settled on Spots with the rabbit and he was attempting to see what was going on from the wagon seat, letting the cob pulling it manage by himself.
Not only did she manage the healing with no guidance from him, but it took less time than the otter had – although still much of the afternoon had passed – and she seemed less exhausted afterwards. Sharing her triumph, he laughingly told her that if she kept this up he'd run out of things to teach her in a couple of months at most, making her blush as she took her place on the wagon once more.
That evening they saw dolphins just offshore; Numair recognised the gleam in Daine's eyes as eerily similar to the one he himself got when he encountered some interesting new spell, and decided there was little point in lessons tonight. She wouldn't be listening to anything but the dolphins anyway, and after healing the rabbit earlier she'd earned a night off. Later he'd ask her what she'd learned, but for now he'd leave her be.
He was half-heartedly grooming Spots once camp was pitched when he felt the by now all too familiar sensation of teeth clamping around his elbow. By Cloud's standards, it was barely a nip, not even breaking skin, but he still wasn't terribly pleased as he turned to scowl at the pony. "I haven't done anything," he informed her tartly, rubbing his arm, "so what was that for?"
The mare ignored him, pointedly turning her head to look towards the distant bluff; puzzled, Numair followed her gaze to see Daine sitting on the grass. "What?" he asked the pony, confused. She snorted impatiently at him; looking around, he noticed that Spots was also staring towards the girl, as were the other horses. Numair shrugged, still none the wiser, and started walking out onto the bluff; he'd ask Daine why the horses were acting strangely. He hadn't gone three paces before the distant figure swayed and fell over sideways.
"Alanna!" someone yelled. It took Numair a moment to realise that it had been him, but by that time he was already running. "Come quick!"
For what was probably the thousandth time in his life, Numair cursed the fact that he couldn't heal. Sitting and doing nothing had never been his strong point. He trusted Alanna with his life, of course, but it was still very difficult for him to just watch as the Lioness attempted to revive Daine. She knew that, which was why he was now holding his student; it wasn't necessary for the healing, but at least he felt he was doing something.
It was only a minute or so before Alanna's magic restarted Daine's heart, but it felt much longer. Numair hardly dared to breathe until at last the Lioness sat back, looking relieved, and Daine stirred in his arms; he'd thought she was dead – well, technically, he supposed she had been, even if only for a minute. His personality made him terribly protective of his friends, and he had truly been scared – so, naturally, once he realised she was going to be all right, he lost his temper.
"You fiend!" he snapped at her, shaking her for good measure. "What on earth possessed you? You were dead! I ought to kill you myself!"
"Numair, calm down," Alanna told him wearily; she knew the reason for this reaction. He recognised that he wasn't being entirely rational at this point and attempted to do as she'd said, as she bent over Daine. "How are you, youngling? You gave us quite a scare." That's an understatement, Numair reflected, concentrating on his breathing; for a moment he'd half-thought Alanna might need to jump-start his heart as well.
Daine reached for the Lioness' hand. "You're the purple fire. You brought me back?"
"I gave you a direct jolt to the heart. We thought we'd lost you." Numair nodded silently, starting to regain some sort of control over himself.
Daine frowned. "My heart? It made too much noise. I wanted it to quiet down so I could talk with the dolphins."
His shaky control vanished once more. "Do you hear her?" he appealed to anyone who was listening. "She wanted to talk to dolphins, so she stopped her own blessed heart! Mithros, Mynoss and Shakith!"
She sat up, breaking his grip, and he sat back on his heels. "I never."
Drawing in a breath, Numair opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind, and felt a hand clamp over his jaw from behind. Onua's voice sounded close to his ear. "Not until you can talk without screaming." Briefly Numair considered standing up; none of his friends could silence him without a chair to stand on if he did. In the end he lapsed into a wounded silence and let Alanna explain.
"Daine, meditation is done for control over body responses, and thus over mind." His friend was laughing at him silently, he could tell. Well, he considered that he'd had every right to be scared. The Lioness went on, "In cutting back the sound of your heart, you were cutting back the heartbeat itself."
"Well, I won't do that again," Daine promised. "I feel like a mule kicked me in the ribs." No more than you deserve, Numair grumbled silently, wondering if he should take a leaf from Cloud's book and bite Onua if she didn't let go of him.
"In a way, one did," Alanna remarked, chuckling. "I gave you quite a shock, youngster."
"Will you behave now?" Onua asked Numair as Daine stood up shakily. He nodded, feeling somewhat calmer now, and sighed when she took her hand away, standing up and dusting himself off. "And men say we're emotional," she told Daine, who smiled; Numair didn't consider that very fair. He'd never said any such thing about any of his friends, who were frankly the most terrifying women on earth; he could use a lot of words to describe them, but 'emotional' wouldn't be on the list. "Don't do that again, please. I'd hate to find a new assistant at this time of year." She walked away, and Daine looked up at him.
Numair took a deep breath and concentrated on not screaming. It hadn't been her fault; if he told himself that often enough, he might believe it. "May I ask why you couldn't hear dolphins in the usual way?" he asked tightly.
She rubbed her eyes. "I was tired."
"You were tired – ah." He understood now; how many times had he done stupid things because he'd tried something he didn't have the power for? His temper subsided a little. "That makes it much clearer. Listen, magelet. The next time you're tired, try resting for a while. If you simply can't rest, go where you'll get nice and chilled, or step into salt water." He waved a hand towards the ocean. "As you can see, there is quite a bit of it down there."
"I don't get it."
He sighed. "Reductions in temperature or contact with salt water can act as amplifiers for magic."
"So that's why the whale songs are so loud in the water!"
"Yes, that's why they're loud," he replied patiently. "Daine, you must realise – these things you're doing when you meditate are real. When you reduce the inner sound of your breathing, you're reducing your breath. When you quiet your heart, you're slowing it down. Your body will react – understand?"
"Yes, sir," she answered in as close to a meek tone as he was ever going to hear from her. Numair relaxed, and would have been able to let go of his temper entirely had she not spoken again. "Do people have visions when they think they're dead?"
"I don't know!" he snapped. "I've never tried it!"
"Oh, well, I can see there's no talking to you for the rest of the night," she told him. "Not until you're out of this pet you're in."
"The pet I'm in?" he demanded; she was already walking away from him. Looking around, he discovered that everyone had carefully moved away; nobody was going to stay within earshot of a powerful mage in a bad mood. This doesn't seem fair somehow. She almost dies, and it's my fault? Scowling, he stalked off in the opposite direction, feeling decidedly ill-used.
Once again, Numair was woken before dawn by his student. Still not in the best of moods, he crawled out of his bedding and tried to focus on what she was telling him, but she was soaked to the skin and not entirely coherent; something about Stormwings watching the coast. He'd been up half the night and was almost too tired to understand; certainly too tired to do much about it without help. Building a fire and ordering her to dry off, he rounded up the other adults and left them trying to get the full story from her, reluctantly picking his way down the cliff to the shore.
The water was every bit as cold as he had feared. Wincing, he rolled up his breeches and waded out until he was knee deep; nothing in the world was going to make him go any deeper, and he didn't care what might be watching them. Once his feet had gone numb, he took a breath and let his senses expand, the cold salt water carrying him further; he found the first Stormwing easily enough, hidden in the clouds, the red-gold of its magic clearly visible. Turning slowly, dimly aware that he was shivering so hard his teeth were chattering, he turned his attention northwards and found more; the same to the south. Just as Daine had described, a long line of immortals were watching the coast.
What for, though? Frowning, Numair carefully waded back to shore, almost falling, numb to the knees now and freezing cold. Scrambling back up the bluff warmed him a little, but he was relieved to get back to the fire; sitting down, he began drying himself, shivering fitfully as he tried to think of a reason for the surveillance.
"How can they stay in one place like that?" Buri asked him; gathering his wits, he tuned back in to their conversation.
"They have their own magic," he replied shakily, edging closer to the fire and quietly cursing the fact that they were this far north; the feeling was slowly coming back into his feet now.
"Can they see everything?" Alanna asked. "Can they look through walls or stone?"
Now, that's a cheerful thought! He certainly hoped not. Daine answered, sounding none the worse for her experiences of the past day. "I think they see like hawks. I don't know what they can do with their magic."
"They can use only a little without being noticed," he said quietly, still shivering fitfully but starting to warm up again. "If a sorcerer knows where to look, he can see the aura of their magic for miles. All they dare risk is the bit that holds them aloft." He made a face. "Once I thought to look that far, of course."
"Don't blame yourself," Alanna said tartly. "I see magic too, and I never spotted them." Numair wasn't sure that made it any better, but he kept silent. The Lioness patted Daine's shoulder and stood up. "Good work. I have to let Jonathan know. He won't be pleased." She walked off, away from the camp and the trainees now stirring to life; a few minutes later her distant fire turned purple as she called the king.
"What now?" Buri asked the queen, poking up the fire as Numair retrieved his socks and boots. Thayet sighed.
"I wanted to stay a few days at Buzzard Rocks, but maybe that's not a good idea. We'll move them along today, camp early at the Rocks, and go before dawn. Onua can ward the camp. There's not much else we can do, once my lord gets Alanna's message."
"We've seen fishing boats and villages," Onua said thoughtfully, unknowingly picking out the part that had been bothering Numair. "They aren't raiding. They aren't raiding, and they aren't killing."
"You sound almost sorry," Buri said dryly.
"In a way, I am," the horsemistress replied. "That would make sense." She stood up. "They're watching our coast like cats at mouseholes, but who's the mouse?"
By the time they were on the move, Numair had managed to wake up properly and was feeling more like himself again. He hadn't entirely forgiven Daine for the scare she'd given him, but he was prepared to let it go; he wasn't the sort who held grudges, and it hadn't been deliberate. They spent the time discussing whales and dolphins; he recognised a growing obsession when he saw it, and couldn't help some amusement as he considered how alike he and his student seemed to be in some ways.
The lessons came to a stop when they reached Buzzard Rocks, however. The village was deserted and silent. Thayet separated the trainees into groups and organised a search of the area, although what she thought they were going to find, Numair wasn't sure. He wandered off amongst the buildings, Daine following him, poking around aimlessly for some sign of what might have happened here. "It happened fast, whatever it was," he muttered. "Yet they did have a chance to pack and gather livestock."
Turning, he saw Daine rubbing her ear, her head slightly to one side. "What's the matter with your ears?"
She flushed. "I keep hearing this – sound."
"Oh?" He listened for a moment and heard nothing. "Hearing with your ears, or your mind?" he asked pointedly.
There was a short pause. "With my mind. Sorry."
"Is it like the Stormwings?"
"No – more like the undine, but not like her exactly. And I have this feeling, as if – I don't know – when I see a juggler or something marvellous." She gave him an unhappy look. "I'm sorry – I can't tell you anything else."
"Don't worry," he told her gently; he hadn't expected it, really. With any form of magic, a lot of it was surprisingly individual; for example, the way he saw magical residue was very different from how Alanna could see it. That made some things all but impossible to explain; you either understood it or you didn't. "Come on – maybe the others have learned something. Tell me right away if anything changes."
They headed back through the deserted village to the main square – such as it was; Buzzard Rocks was a tiny place. It seemed nobody had found anything, which was hardly surprising. "They had time to pack," Alanna said slowly, echoing Numair's earlier musing. "It wasn't a raid or disease – "
Daine drew in a sharp breath, and one of the female trainees screamed. Numair stared, as chaos erupted around them and the horses panicked; he'd never seen the immortals now gliding in towards them, but they were easy enough to identify. Griffins! He hadn't known there were any left; as far as he knew, they hadn't been seen by mortals in centuries. He was dimly aware of Daine calming the anxious horses and heard Thayet call for weapons, but he didn't move, staring in silent fascination as the griffins circled and came at them again, roaring now. They're... beautiful.
It didn't occur to him to try and attack them. Daine hadn't said they were dangerous and had made no attempt to grab her bow; besides, as he watched some truly formidable claws slicing through the canvas covering one of the carts, if the immortals had actually been attacking he was reasonably certain they would have killed several people by now. This was what, a warning? He looked at Daine, wondering if her magic could tell them anything.
She was staring worriedly at the Riders, now armed. "Stop!" she called, without much hope of it working; Buri and Thayet fired the first two shots as the griffins turned for a third pass. "No!" she tried again, shouting now. "Leave them be!"
"We're under attack!" Buri yelled in answer. Numair rolled his eyes; No, we aren't. But we will be if you keep shooting at them. Shaking his head, he started forward as Daine tried again.
"Don't shoot! They don't understand. If you'll give me a second – " The frustration was clear in her voice. Nobody was listening to her; by now fifteen of them were armed and about to fire. Daine screamed in sheer fury, and wild magic flared across Numair's senses; he watched in shock as every pony and horse in the vicinity forgot their terror and turned on the humans, snapping for the arrows and knocking the bows out of their riders' hands. Oops. Cloud took advantage of the situation to shoulder into him, almost pushing him over; he gave the mare a dirty look, which she met innocently, and turned to look at Daine.
Ignoring the chaos erupting around her, she was racing towards the griffins; Numair followed as she called to them. "No! Stop! It's not what you think – it's not what they think!" She stopped, and he saw her magic flare again, deliberately this time and targeted solely at the approaching immortals. Whatever she said to them seemed to work; the female griffin broke off entirely and curved away further down the beach, the male landing just in front of the girl and looking down at her.
Catching up, Numair stared at the immortal in fascinated awe. The few drawings he'd seen hadn't done them justice. "It's all right to put down the weapons?" he asked Daine; not that the horses had left them much choice. The griffin nodded, effectively diverting his thoughts, and he looked back at the immortal. "You can understand me?"
"A little, he says," Daine replied. "It's ideas he gets, like 'weapons' and 'safety'."
Incredible. "Thank you," he told the griffin, reluctantly turning away and heading back towards the Riders, who had finally managed to regain control over their horses. Maybe they'll listen next time, he decided uncharitably. "Put down your bows," he called. "They're not after us. Let Daine handle it." That earned him a volley of glares, all of which he ignored as he turned back towards the griffin, wanting to see more of the conversation taking place; Alanna passed him on her warhorse, weapons in hand, and he rolled his eyes as he drew closer.
"Ask him where the village is," Alanna ordered. Daine was more concerned with calming the terrified stallion, but obediently looked up at the griffin, her eyes narrowing in concentration.
She swallowed and whispered something, her expression uncertain; Numair drew closer in time to hear her say hesitantly, "Lioness, I – I think he wants you to explain the device on your shield. He won't talk about anything else till you do."
That was interesting. Numair glanced at the stylised rampant lioness badge as though seeing it for the first time; it did look sort of like a griffin, with a different head and no wings. Surprisingly, Alanna answered the question, although from her tone she was far from happy about it.
"It's a lioness, my own sign. A female lion."
The griffin stretched his wings. Daine winced, obviously struggling with the translation; Numair concentrated and saw the blaze of magic surrounding the pair. Moving to stand behind her, he rested a hand at the nape of her neck, whispering a word; light surrounded them. "Calm down," he told her gently, dimly aware of the feel of the griffin's speech when he touched her. "Relax. I'm shielding you. Take a deep breath – good girl. You can manage this – just go easily." He watched quietly as she closed her eyes and concentrated, breathing more easily and relaxing a little, finally rewarding his faith in her by twisting to look up at him with a hint of a smile. Nodding, he carefully released the shield and stepped back a pace, watching proudly as she turned back to the conversation.
"He says there're too many griffins held captive on human shields. That's why they attacked the village – no, 'attack' isn't right. They flew over, like they did with us, to warn the people not to raid the nest and steal the little ones for shields. They're nesting atop that large spire of rock." She pointed to where the female griffin sat.
Alanna's expression didn't soften. "How many villagers did they kill in this 'warning'? And Daine, you'd best not lie to protect them." Numair glared at his friend, but Daine didn't seem to have noticed the insult, focusing on the griffin.
"I couldn't lie if I wanted to, Lioness. He won't let us." She paused and sighed. "That's not right. Lies can't be told near a griffin. He's surprised we didn't know. That's why they were captured for shields."
That was fascinating. Numair filed it away carefully for consideration later; he didn't know much about heraldry. "There haven't been griffins here in centuries," he said quietly. "We've forgotten the lore. Does he know how long it's been since they were seen in human lands?"
She hesitated. "He – sorry, Numair – he doesn't know what you mean. I think he doesn't understand time as we use it. He does say they killed no one. The villagers screamed a lot, then they ran." Numair grinned at that; he could imagine it. And this was so surreal that it was funny. Daine continued, "They're at a great stone house about a day's ride down the coast."
Alanna finally relaxed a little. "Pirate's Swoop. That's easy enough to check. Is it true, about lying around them, Numair?"
"I'd heard it. You could try," he told her, deciding it was definitely someone else's turn to make themselves look stupid; so far today he hadn't embarrassed himself, and he'd like it to continue. To his amusement, Alanna struggled with it, gaping like a fish before smiling.
"I can't."
"How do they live?" The new voice was Thayet, coming to join the conversation. "What do they eat?"
"Fish," Daine answered promptly, more confident now. "Dolphins if they can get them, seals, sea lions – but mostly fish. He says there're big ones in the open ocean."
"No cattle? No sheep or pigs?"
"No, mum. They think grass-eaters taste nasty."
Thayet looked thoughtful. "Will he agree to let the villagers come back and not harass them?"
"Ouch!" Daine winced. "As long as they keep away from their nest, he doesn't care what people do." She smiled shakily. "Their voices – our voices – discomfort their ears. They don't want to come any closer to us than they must, to protect the little ones."
Alanna relaxed with a sigh, leaning on her saddle. "It'd be a shame to destroy such magnificence," she said admiringly. The griffin preened his chest feathers and sat straighter; Numair grinned as Thayet laughed.
"All right," the queen said. "I'll talk to the locals when we see them. Tell your friend we will fight them if they harm a human or any livestock."
Daine made a face. "He says don't insult him by calling me his friend. His kind has better things to do than associate with humans." She flushed. "He says at least my voice doesn't hurt his ears." Numair's grin broadened; he decided he liked griffins. They seemed to have a sense of humour.
The Lioness raised her sword and saluted the immortal. "Your point is taken, sir. Return to your nest, and we won't inflict our voices on you again."
Numair thought the encounter had gone very well, all things considered; as the trainees pitched camp, he sat with Daine, discussing how the griffin's mind had seemed to work. Most of it was apparently impossible to explain, but her attempts had him almost spellbound and he could have kept asking questions for hours. Their conversation was interrupted by the officers; one glance at his friends' collective expressions, and Numair knew they were in trouble.
"You shouldn't have turned our mounts against us." Thayet's voice was serious.
Daine swallowed. "I didn't – honest. They did it without me asking." Glancing around at their faces, she added, "If you don't believe me, maybe we could bring the griffins back – "
"No," Alanna replied firmly. "We just got the ponies calmed down."
"You had best study control, mistress," Thayet said sternly. "If we can't trust our mounts, we're in trouble."
Numair bristled at the slur to both his teaching and his student. "There's only so much she can do," he said defensively. "This is wild magic, Your Majesty – not the Gift. She can't help animals knowing her feelings any more than she can help breathing. I've tested her control. It's as good as she can make it. Wild magic is unpredictable – thus the name."
Onua joined in, putting her arm around Daine's shoulders in a welcome show of support. "It's got to be harder on her than on us, Majesty. She's a good girl." Numair nodded as Daine bit her lip and dropped her eyes, looking embarrassed.
Thayet sighed, giving up, and rubbed her neck. "I'll be so glad when we reach Pirate's Swoop," she said to nobody in particular. "A hot bath and a night's sleep in a bed, and I'll be a new woman." She smiled at Daine. "I'm not going to bite you, youngster. I'm not even angry, not really. I will say this – riding with you has been an eye-opener!"
"Welcome to the club," Numair muttered in heartfelt agreement, grinning as Daine glared at him.
"You know," Alanna remarked, "I have a feeling, if the people come back, this is going to be a very honest village from now on."
Onua grinned. "If so, a lot of husbands will be sleeping in the barn."
Listening to their laughter, Numair shook his head wryly. I really need more male friends.
Well, there you go. I've only got a couple more chapters of Wolf-Speaker to go, so I decided to update early. I'm going to attempt two updates a week now, for a while at least, but I can't promise how long that will last – especially as last night it dawned on me that what I have so far for Realms of the Gods will need a lot of rewriting. There's also a couple of plot bunnies starting to nibble at me... We shall see. In the meantime, please, keep reviewing.
Loten.