Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Prisoners of the Wind (24 page)

Lifting a paw, he hooked it toward him and swiped at it with
his rough tongue, spreading his toe joints to lap in between the razor-sharp
claws. He did it more to calm himself than from any real need to groom his paw.

“You’ll be as naked as the day you were born, fool.”
The
thought drove the anger deeper into his heart.
“Naked and vulnerable,
trekking through caves she’ll know by heart, your dangly swinging in the
breeze. What a way to meet up with her.”

He chuffed, the sound one of disgust at his inability to
control his temper. He stood up, shook himself as though throwing off unwanted
burdens then began following Kali’s scent once more, making no sound at all as
he moved.

Another twenty minutes found him deep within a long, narrow
tunnel that was cooled by a strong sea breeze. The wind was blowing Kali’s
scent back to him and he knew she was close. He looked around—taking note of
the landmarks of the tunnel then turned and trotted back the way he’d come.
Once outside, he again surveyed the landmarks, lifted his leg to mark the
entrance and began his long journey back down the mountain, for it was no
longer possible for him to keep the Conversion in place and he was rapidly
tiring in an attempt to do so. As he took the trail that would lead him down to
the McGregors, he gave up trying and allowed his human form to take over.

When he wearily made his way to the McGregors’ front porch,
he smiled to see a pair of boots sitting on the top step and a pair of jeans
hanging over the railing. His was a riper scent than any human should ever
experience so he picked up the boots, tugged the jeans from the railing and
went behind the hut to bathe in water from Silus’ well, scrubbing himself with
the bar of soap he knew Maveen had left for him. Hair still dripping from
bucket after bucket of cold water he’d doused himself with to rid his flesh of
the lemon-scented soap, he dragged on the jeans and tiredly climbed the steps
of the back porch, curling up in Maveen’s prized redwood swing and falling
asleep as soon as his head hit the slats, unable to go a step further.

As the first rays of the dawn sun pulsed in his eyes, he
woke—every muscle in his body screaming with protest at the cramped position
he’d kept all night. He groaned and managed to turn over on his back, his knees
bent, his right arm over his belly. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight
beneath a crooked left arm thrown over his face, he lay there listening to the
early morning calls of the birds and the low rustlings in the bushes of the
little first-rising animals. Soothingly, he could hear the morning tide coming
in, the breakers washing gently to shore. The smell of the salt water made him
draw deep lungfuls into his sore and aching body. He knew the moment Marin’s
feet hit the floor for he had delved lightly into her mind—something he had
sworn to himself he would not do again once they were Joined. He smiled as he
envisioned her running down the stairs.

“Easy, wench,”
he warned.

He felt her elation as well as the irritation at him poking
around inside her head again and then the consternation as she flung the front
door open to look for him, obviously not finding him there.

“On the back porch,”
he whispered, then withdrew from
her mind.

He listened to the front screen door slam shut then her
running footsteps through the hut. As soon as the back screen door squealed
open, he smiled for the first words out of her mouth were so like his lady.

“Did you kill her?” she asked, coming to stand over him. Her
voice was higher pitched than usual and rife with worry.

He could feel her eyes roaming over him, looking for damage.
When she repeated her question—her voice now filled with a semblance of relief,
he let his arm fall behind his head and he looked up at her.

“No, wench. As far as I know, she’s still breathing this
morning. Had I been less tired last eve, I’d have sought her out and wrung her
neck, though.”

He watched Marin let out a long breath. “So you decided to
trot back here and sleep out on the porch so I could wake up and nearly die
from fright when I thought you weren’t back?” she accused.

“I didn’t have the energy to come inside, wench,” he
drawled. He held out his right hand to her. “Take pity on your tired, aching
husband, please?”

She ignored his hand and put her own on her hips. “Do you
realize you scared me half to death last night?” Her eyes narrowed. “That I
laid awake until well past two in the morning worried sick about you?”

“At two this morning, I was most likely lying here on this
swing in a fetal position, dead to the world and snoring,” he told her, his
lips twitching. “Something you tell me I do all too often as it is.”

Maveen stuck her head out the door. “You want breakfast,
son?”

“Aye, milady,” he said with a sigh. “I am starving.”

“Serves you right,” Marin snapped, spun on her heel and went
inside, slamming the porch door behind her.

Silus squeaked open the door and came out, his pipe and
pouch of tobacco in hand. “Got a mite touchy little filly on your hands there,
lad,” he observed as he sat down in his oversized rocker and began filling his
pipe.

Taegin sighed and sat up. “She’ll get over it,” he said. He
rubbed a hand over his bare chest. “Leastwise I hope she will.”

Silus chuckled lowly. He flicked his eyes over Taegin. “You
look none the worse for wear. Didn’t find her, eh?”

“I know where she is up there,” the Tiogar said, letting his
gaze slide up the mountain beyond the McGregors’ hut. He got up, grunting as
his body screamed with aches and he felt every last one of them.

“Take a piss off the porch if you like,” Silus suggested.
“Don’t look to me like you can make it up to the john this morn.”

Taegin nodded and walked to the end of the porch to relieve
himself in Maveen’s flowerbed. He heard the scratch of a match behind him then
smelled the rich aroma of Silus’ cherry wood-flavored tobacco wafting on the
air. He shook himself, stuffed his manhood back in his jeans and padded over to
pick up his boots.

“A few of the neighbors are going to help us clear out the
rubble today,” Silus said as he puffed away on his pipe, rocking gently as he
did.

Taegin bent down—groaning as he did—and snagged one boot.
The other fell over and he groaned again having to bend lower.

“I see your adversary has been here during the night,” Silus
said as he watched a scorpion skitter out of the Tiogar’s overturned boot. He
moved quicker than a man his age had a right to, shooting out of the chair and
bringing his slipper-clad foot down on the deadly anthropoid to crush it,
pivoting his foot to grind it to a pulp.

Taegin stared down at the pulverized insect and let out a
particularly vulgar Riochasian curse. “She had to know that wouldn’t kill me,”
he spat.

“Most likely not, but it would have made you sick as a mangy
dog,” Silus agreed, kicking the mess off the porch.

Spearing his fingers through his hair, Taegin drew in a long
breath then released it. “Don’t tell Marin about this,” he asked.

“Didn’t intend to,” Silus acknowledged as he went back to
his rocker.

“Where the hell did she get a scorpion on Contúirtia?”
Taegin questioned.

Silus shrugged. “Ain’t no telling about that woman,” he
replied. “She trades with a few of the more exotic ship crews what come to
Comhcheol Harbor. Could have had the damned thing for a pet for all we know.”

“Trades with the crews? You mean services them,” Taegin
scoffed.

Silus’ pipe stem was clenched between his teeth. “Something
like that, I imagine,” he replied with a grin.

Marin came to the door and announced breakfast was starting
then walked back into the house.

“That little gal is royally ticked at you, son,” Silus
laughed. He got up, put his pipe on the porch railing then held his hand out
for Taegin to proceed him inside.

Daniel, Timothy and Burl were already at the table waiting
for them. Andrew had grabbed a biscuit and a few slices of bacon and left for
town to round up the workers who would help them clear away the debris from
Taegin’s building site.

“I appreciate the help,” Taegin said, taking a seat beside
his wife who ignored him.

“That’s what family is for,” Maveen reminded him.

From the corner of her eye, Marin saw her husband lower his
head and a great deal of her anger simply evaporated. It was hard to stay mad
at a man who had such sorrow buried deep in his soul. She didn’t hesitate to
take his hand as Burl reached for hers while Silus gave the Blessing over the
meal. She even squeezed Taegin’s hand before releasing it and turned to smile forgivingly
at him.

Taegin bent over and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I’m sorry I
worried you,” he whispered.

“You should be,” she replied, and that was that. Her
anger—though not her worry over him—vanished.

“MacFee will mill us more lumber,” Silus said as he took the
plate of biscuits from Timothy. “Reckon we should have the pylons in by the end
of the week.”

“It’s a good thing Taegin had more of the stilts made than
he needed,” Daniel said.

“I’m thinking we need to post a guard until O’Malley arrests
the woman,” Burl said, not using Kali’s name out of respect for his mother and
Phaedra who had strolled in yawning and taken her seat across from Marin.

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Silus granted.

Nothing more was said about what had happened in the cove.
The subject of Kali was dropped that casually. When breakfast was over, Marin
offered to help clean up but Maveen and Phaedra declined her offer, telling her
she’d best accompany Taegin back to the cove.

“We’ll bring out sandwiches and the like at lunchtime,”
Maveen said. “The menfolk will be gasping for food by then.”

Thanking their hosts, Taegin and Marin headed home, her hand
tightly clasped in his as they made the mile-and-a-half trip. Silent all the
way back, it wasn’t until Taegin saw the pile of burned wood that he spoke.

“Did I frighten you last night, wench?”

Marin knew what he meant. “Running the risk of further
inflating your already over-inflated ego, milord, I found your inner beast as
handsome as his host.” She glanced up at him. “A very powerful, manly beast he
was, I must say.”

“He didn’t scare you?” he nudged.

The Tiogar’s wife shrugged. “Perhaps impressed is a better
word, for I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Never,” was the heartfelt pledge.

“He’s a little hard on your clothing and footwear, though,”
she said, her lips twitching.

“Aye,” Taegin said with a sigh. “He is.” He squeezed her
hands. “Thank you for putting the boots and britches out for me.”

“That was Silus’ idea,” she told him. “It didn’t occur to
me, but it will next time.”

He fully intended there be no next time, for he didn’t like
the idea of his wife seeing him in Conversion. He rolled his shoulders,
uncomfortable with the memory that she ever had.

Sensing he was ashamed she’d seen him in his felidae shape,
she stopped and locked eyes with him. “I have to tell you, milord Tiogar, that
I was glad for that virus my father developed last night.”

Taegin frowned. “Why?”

“Had you not gone into Conversion, I might not be here this
morning. I don’t want you to make a habit of dropping to all fours in front of
me, but should the occasion arise, just know it will not bother me.” She
smiled. “I like having such a potent protector at my beck and call.”

He snorted and they continued walking toward the rubble.

“What was it like the first time you went through
Conversion?” she asked, feeling it was best to get it out in the open for they
had never talked about it. The few times she’d hinted about it, he’d changed
the subject.

There was one stack of lumber that had not been touched by
flames and Taegin walked her over to it, let go of her hand, put his hands on
her waist and lifted her up to sit on the stack. He hopped up beside her,
crooking up one knee and resting his wrist on it.

“All right, wench, we’ll talk about it just this once then
we won’t mention it again,” he said, not looking at her. “What do you want to
know?”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Did it hurt?”

He nodded. “More than I could ever explain or want to
remember,” he answered.

“How were you chosen as my father’s subject?” That question
had been on her mind from the moment she first had seen him on the
Revenge
.

“Now that I can’t tell you, but I suspect he chose us
because we were close blood kin from among the Tiogar Clan. I imagine he had
some purpose in that. There were six of us—my five cousins and me.” He cleared
his throat. “I think he got the idea for turning us into big cats from the word
Tiogar, the meaning obvious.”

“I never thought of that,” she said. “You mean you could
have become a wolf or bear or something?”

“Possibly.”

“So who was the first to go into Conversion?”

Taegin sighed. “Me since I was the oldest and was head of my
class at the academy. Banning was next, then Erin, Teague, Micheil and Neacal.”

“Did you know what you were being chosen for?” she asked,
leaning her head on his shoulder. He moved his arm so that it was around her.

“We were told it was an experiment to make us better
warriors,” he said as he stared into the distance. “From the moment you enter
the academy you are indoctrinated to be the best you can be, so the notion of
becoming ultra warriors played to our over-inflated egos.”

Marin smiled as her own words came back to her, but she made
no comment.

Taegin craned his head to look at her. When she remained
silent, he chuckled lightly and went on with his tale.

“The injection didn’t hurt but within twenty minutes I felt
like I was coming apart. The pain was excruciating and when it was all over
with and I stood there in beast form, I felt like any normal fifteen-year-old
boy would. I strutted around, twisting this way and that to see my ass,
flinging my tail like it was the most important part on me.”