The man hefted her up by the scruff of her neck. Pain of the movement bit into her hind-parts, and she gave a wounded yelp.
“Come on, then,” the man said, groaning with her weight.
It was the groan that did it.
The sound of it struck her like a whip. She had heard it before. She flashed on his eyes then, and the thickness of his arms, and she flashed on other things, too—other men, the sounds of footsteps and voices.
She twisted to get his arm, but the man was too quick and too strong. He pulled her along while she squealed and tried to nip at him. He dragged her until they came to a wagon. No. Not a wagon, the wagon, the one with the front wheel on the right that angled so strangely. She remembered the grating sound it made as it moved. She saw the dark marks, and she smelled the blood that stained its deck. An image of Rayn came over her then, standing tall, her hair tied back, a blade in her hand as the men attacked.
Rayn!
She felt the power of truth as everything snapped back in place.
Rayn, the warrior. Rayn, her Mind-pair.
This man had killed her, this man who now threw Nwah into the cage of rusting steel he had loaded onto the back of the wagon, then slammed the door and threw the lock-bar down, this man who then turned to another part of the wagon and gave Kade’s mum a package that was long and thin and covered by a soft cloth, a package the mum rolled open to reveal a sword blade that gleamed in the late morning sun.
Nwah growled and pressed a paw against the steel bars, widening her nostrils to take in the blade’s cold scent. Her tail flicked against her back. Nwah remembered Rayn’s first day with the weapon—saw images of her dancing with it, performing intricate patterns, slicing melons and stabbing straw-filled targets, twirling it above her head as she came to new positions.
“It’s a fine blade,” the mum said.
“Worth a pretty bit more than a broken kyree.”
She looked at Nwah.
Nwah growled again.
“Yes, it is,” she said as she pulled a bag of coins from inside her apron.
It was too much for Nwah to bear. She gave a howl, a sound that was long and drawn out, full of pain and of longing, and full of all the words she wanted so badly to speak aloud, but would still never have been enough to describe her torment.
She remembered it all now.
She remembered every moment.
* * *
She remembered the pairing.
Rayn’s daring had saved Nwah and her sister, protecting them from a Hawkbrother raid. Nwah’s mother struggled over which of her pups would be the pair-match, but Nwah had been steadfast. Rayn was hers, and she was Rayn’s. It was something she felt as deeply as life itself. She had been overwhelmed when Rayn had agreed. The moment of pairing was bliss, something deeper than being together, deeper than family, deeper even than love.
She remembered the next day, seeing the glow of the sun on Rayn’s skin as Nwah padded along beside her, feeling the pair-match settle. It was like the day of her first hunt, only many times over. Her chest filled out, and she could smell lilacs and alumroot, briar and the wild leeks that grew all over the forest. She felt Rayn breathing as if it were her own breath. Rayn’s passion was like the warmth of a full den. Their link smelled of that passion, that sense of being that permeated her every movement. Her pair-mate smelled bold. That’s what Nwah thought. Rayn was bold. Rayn walked with strong, powerful steps, and she sang as they traveled.
Rayn came from a place named Oris, where she promised she would take Nwah someday. :It’s a sleepy land, though,: she said with a sardonic smile. :Nothing to do but chase mice and rats.: She told Nwah she had always wanted more, wanted to see things, wanted to know what life was really about. That was why she left Oris, she said. That was why she was here.
Nwah had been feeling these very things, lying in her den at night with her littermates, pushing and pawing, growing older and bigger and ready to go someplace, yet not having any place to go. She was due for better things, Nwah had thought.
She was born for a bigger fate.
* * *
She remembered Rayn taking her to a smithy’s shop to have the blade made.
The whole place glowed orange and white, and it was so heavy with heat that Nwah thought her eyes might boil away. It smelled sharp and dirty, an odor so overwhelming it made her hair stand up. Blades of every kind hung from the walls—hammers, and pikes, and daggers, and scythes, and every other implement of possible terror she could imagine. She kept her ears peeled back, walking beside Rayn in stiff strides, lifting each paw high and placing it delicately, just so.
:What are you doing?: Rayn asked.
:Watching for traps,: she replied.
Rayn chuckled.
:You’re a silly kyree,: she said as she ran her hand between Nwah’s ears.
Even Rayn’s touch had been hot.
* * *
She remembered everything about their final trip.
Everything.
:I don’t like it,: she had said. :The trail to Katashin’a’in is lined with Hawkbrothers and renegade clans.:”
:I know you don’t understand,: Rayn replied. :But it’s Stefan. If it’s important to him, it’s important to me.:
Rayn spoke the truth, of course. She always spoke the truth; it was part of what made Nwah love her. Nwah felt Rayn’s attachment to Stefan, a young man her age, though not from her same litter. Rayn had grown up with Stefan, had shared games with him, and now Stefan had come into ownership of a locket or gem of some type, and he planned to sell it in the grassland markets. He had asked Rayn for her sword as an escort. The strength of that request felt no different than if Nwah’s own pup-mates had called upon her.
:Then it is important to me, too,: she finally said.
With that, they were committed to provide security for Stefan’s trip through the Pelagiris, over the border of the Dhorisha plains, and into Katashin’a’in. Nwah still worried about the trail, but she had to admit the idea of a land with so few trees sounded remarkable. She wondered what it would look like. She wondered if a kyree would find it possible to run forever in a place like that.
Rayn and Stefan hoped their little wagon would be left alone as they traveled—and they agreed they would appear to be newly wedded, if necessary (though that made them both laugh).
They set out, Stefan driving, Rayn beside him, her blade stored behind her. The wagon’s flatbed was loaded with pieces of run-down furniture, rugs, and bundles of fabric—all of it a ruse to support their story. Stefan’s trinket was wrapped in one of those blankets.
Nwah trotted alongside the wagon, enjoying the coolness of the morning. It had been a few days since she had run at pace, and the movement made her feel close to Urtho himself. She remembered her mother and a time they stood together on a cliffy ridge to stare at a waterfall in the distance. An owl had soared by, and Nwah had wondered how it would feel to fly.
:Probably not so good,: her mother replied. :I can’t imagine not having the ground under my paws.:
Trotting beside the creaking wagon, Nwah found herself raising her head. She had not responded to her mother that day because, unlike her mother, she could imagine flying. She could imagine many things, actually, many things that she knew by then that other good kyree most definitely did not imagine at all. She remained silent that day on the cliffs because she had felt foolish, or out of place, as if this ability to dream was somehow wrong. But she remembered then, as she ran alongside the wagon, that the idea that she was special gave her such a sense of power that she thought she might well be able to run forever.
The robbers came the second day, just as the sun was fading into the dusky clouds. She should have sensed them earlier, but rather than concentrating on the road, Nwah’s attention had been drawn by a hare out in the brush of a clearing, and she had been following a dragonfly as it buzze
d from its nest in a nearby pond. The forest had so much to see, and she felt Rayn’s presence, and she felt so safe and so complete that she had let herself go to places she rarely allowed herself to enjoy.
:Hide!: Nwah said.
But it was too late. Men blocked the trail, more filled in behind.
“What do you have in the back?” the leader said. It was the man—Nwah pictured him clearly now.
“Nothing but our homestuffs,” Stefan replied.
“We’ll just see about that.”
Hackles rose, and the fur at the back of her neck bunched up. :Get them away from us,: Rayn said, throwing off her cover and reaching to her blade as she stood.
Screams came and steel flashed in the gloaming. The smell of blood mixed with sweat. A blade scored her hind leg. Rayn’s voice rose, giving orders as she hacked at the thieves who were pulling Stefan away. Nwah leaped to defend Rayn’s back, Mind-speaking warnings of men attacking. The crushing blow of a hammer struck her leg, and Nwah fell.
And as Nwah fell, a blade entered Rayn’s side.
Angled upward.
To pierce her heart.
Rayn’s face froze.
Then the man twisted the blade, and Nwah remembered the greatest pain of all. The pain of ripping. The pain of tearing.
The pain of true loss.
* * *
Nwah’s howl rose, echoing across the land.
“You best leave before the boy gets back,” Kade’s mum said.
The man agreed, and got in the wagon.
As they rolled away, Nwah snarled at the man, her heart pounding. She crashed her body against the cage rails again and again, roaring, howling, spitting, reaching her claws out to the man who sat just out of reach. She growled and whined. She scratched at the door until her claws bled. She remembered Rayn’s Mind-speak, how it filled her, how it became one with the very essence of her thoughts.
She would kill this man.
She would rip his throat out.
Her injuries had weakened her, though, and a lack of real food had left her drained. She had no stamina, no energy, and raw anger provides power for only so long. By the time they came to camp, she was spent and unable to even lift her head. The muscles of her hind legs burned, and her paws were torn and raw. Still, she growled a low warning and whined as men surrounded the wagon and lifted her cage to the ground.
“Quiet up, ya mutt,” one of the men said.
Nwah showed him her teeth. :I will kill you,: she replied.
The man poked a blade at her.
She gathered every bit of anger and fury she had left, and threw herself once again at the bars. The cage rattled and crashed as it fell over to its side.
The man returned. “I said ta quiet up!”
He drew a club from his belt loop. The door to the cage swung open, and the weapon caught her alongside the face. Nwah fell back, whimpering. The weapon struck again, bruising her shoulder first, then crashing against the side of her head, bringing blood and the heat of sharp pain.
“Stop it!” the leader said. “No one will buy a dead kyree.”
“She’s got the howling crazies,” her attacker said, wheezing with his labor. His stench was overwhelming.
“Looks like you quieted her down enough.”
He slammed the door shut, and took some glee in tossing the cage back upright.
They left Nwah alone for the rest of the night, but she didn’t have the energy to fight any more. Her body ached. Her jaw was badly swollen, and her paws felt burned. She lay on the bare floor of her tiny cage and cried, softly this time, trying desperately to avoid making a noise that might bring the hammer again, yet unable to keep the river of emotion from flowing. And the voices inside came, too, growing louder and deeper as the sun settled and the darkness crept over the camp.
This time, when she put her paw to her mouth, her jaw hurt so much that she didn’t have to bite down to feel pain.
She was done. It was over. She felt it in her wounds, and in her throbbing skull, and in her ribcage that flared with every breath. She tasted it in the blood that seeped over her tongue. She was going to die. Here, in this dirty cage of a band of robbers, Nwah was going to die.
There was a time, of course, when she had wanted that, a time when she would have welcomed it. Now that she was going to do it, though, actually going to die—and now that she remembered all the events of her life—Nwah felt nothing but deep, mind-numbing sadness. She had hoped for so much more.
She began speaking to the darkness, then. Almost random words at first. But she found that when she filled her head with these words, the black whispering quieted, so she continued.
:I was born fifteen years ago,: she said to nobody. :My mother was of the Pelagiris. My father ran off before the litter came.:
She spoke about her mother and about her pup-mates. She told about learning to hunt, and explained how to stay silent in the woods. She told of her first moments running, and of the time Dair got caught in the poisonous vines down in the valley. She told everything she knew, perhaps everything she would ever know. She spoke her words even if no one else could hear them, because she wanted her story, and Rayn’s story, to be told at least one time before they were both gone.
* * *
:You’re going to be fine,: a voice came through the distant fog.
Nwah sat up with a start. It was dark. Her jaw throbbed and her legs ground bone against bone. She caught a familiar scent and saw a familiar outline in the shadow of the cage, moonlight gleaming off his dark hair.
:Kade?:
:I’m here.:
Her legs shook as she stood. Despite herself, her heart surged at the sight of him, and when he reached his hand through the bars to stroke her coat, she breathed a shuddering sigh of relief.
:You can hear me?:
:Yes.:
:How?:
He shrugged. :I fix critters. Figured it was just a matter a time.:
:How did you find me?:
:Wasn’t hard. Just followed the path of that power you got in you.:
:Power? I don’t have any power.:
:You don’t need to hide it from me, girl. You’ve got magic in you as strong as the Mage that came through a couple months back. Don’t lie to me and say you don’t know it.:
And she did.
For all her life, Nwah had felt there was something more to herself than others seemed to let on, something special. She had kept it hidden from her mother and her kin, even kept it away from Rayn—afraid her pair-mate would laugh at her as fanciful, or worse, just think Nwah to be a flawed kyree. But inside, Nwah had always felt special. She had always felt that she should be able to do things others didn’t.
Could Kade be right? Could it be that she had Mage skill?
:I don’t know what to do with it,: she said.
It felt awkward to admit it.
:That’s why I’m staying with you. I wanna see what it is you got.:
:Staying with me?:
:If you’ll have me. We can find someone who can teach you about what you’ve got. I can help you.:
It took Nwah a moment to understand that Kade wanted to travel with her, to leave his mum and pa and stay with her. And it took Nwah a moment to understand that “if you’ll have me” meant he was subjecting himself to her desire, giving her a choice. Those words meant she had value to him.
:You’re still a pup.:
:Old enough to be out here now.:
:What of your mum and pa?:
:She’s not my real mum. And Pa will make do for now.:
Kade smiled and Nwah leaned against the pressure of his hand as he rubbed her bruised spine. Only the fact that she was afraid to wake the robbers kept her from moaning out loud. She could feel him, too, feel him with a connection that was different from how she had felt Rayn. This new con
nection was distant but there, like the smell of a buck out in the woods. Kade would never own her the way Rayn had, and Nwah would never own Kade the way she had Rayn. But she felt him, and the friction of their connection made her heart soar as it hadn’t since before the attack.
Nwah jerked as Kade touched her jaw.
:We need to get you out a here before daybreak, or we’ll both be in heaps a trouble. Hold tight. Don’t make a clatter.:
Kade turned the bar slowly, then slid it out of the guide. The gate eased open and Nwah limped out. Her legs shook with the effort, and her muscles ached from her beating, but she could bear it. Indeed, in some ways she felt stronger for the pain, stronger for having withstood it, for having come through.
And she was free.
Nwah smelled the aroma of the dew-covered nighttime, and she heard the sounds of a forest that was forever alive. But mostly, she smelled the man who had killed Rayn, and as she stood there in the darkness, her anger rose, and her lips peeled back.
The man’s chest rose in his sleep.
She instinctively lowered herself and stepped toward him, her mouth slavering with a sudden, feral hunger at the idea of sinking her teeth into his throat. Her eyes drew down, and she could see him even better in the shadows. She flicked her tail and slunk forward.
:Stop,: Kade said.
He stepped between her and the men.
:Pa says ya shouldn’t do nothin’ ya might regret.:
:I wouldn’t regret it.:
:Ain’t right to go killing men while they’re asleep no matter what they done. Besides, everyone will name you rabid, and they’ll hunt you till you’re dead.:
Nwah looked at the men as they slept. She understood Kade’s advice, but her need for vengeance still burned against her.
:I can’t leave them be.:
:Pa says there’s ways to deal with this kind a trouble.:
:And those are?:
Kade shrugged. :Turn Hawkbrothers onto them, maybe. Or the Shin’a’in. I hear they got their own sense a justice. Or maybe you’ll find something to do with that magic of yours. I don’t know. We can find someone to teach you, you know? Let’s leave while we still can, though, and get enough distance between us that no one can chase us down.:
No True Way: All-New Tales of Valdemar (Tales of Valdemar Series Book 8) Page 10