The Silvered (74 page)

Authors: Tanya Huff

BOOK: The Silvered

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Currently on guard, Bryan and Dillyn watched him from the porch. Dillyn had his head down on his front paws, but his eyes were open and all his attention was on the boy. Matt and Jace had gone hunting. They hadn’t gone far enough from the settlement to actually catch anything, which was why Mirian could sense matching pissy moods as they returned. They hadn’t yet determined how far apart she could be from her Pack and still maintain the connection—no one wanted to be the first to suddenly find themselves cut off from their Alpha. And, in fairness, she didn’t want to find herself cut off from them.

When the Pack Leader in Harar had curled his lip and informed her that kind of contact wasn’t normal for Alphas, only Tomas’ elbow had kept her from laughing. Laughter would be considered a challenge, and the last thing Mirian wanted was to end up responsible for the entire settlement. The Pack she had was responsibility enough.

She could hear Jared and Karl behind the house, arguing as they chopped wood. Seventeen and eighteen, they could manage skin as long as they had something that needed hands. Stephen would be watching them from the wellhead, the silvered stub of his tail tucked under his haunches. Stephen seldom wore skin. The emperor had taken something from his insides as well—his belly fur split by a diagonal silver streak—and he’d almost died before they’d reached a Healer-mage in the mountains. Nine had changed and carried him the last two days, snapping and snarling at anyone who tried to share the burden.

Tomas and Nine…

Mirian frowned. Nine felt angry. That wasn’t unusual. Unless he was with Dusty or her, anger was a constant with Nine. He’d refused to tell them his name…

“That man is dead. Nine will do.”

…and he fought at the slightest provocation. The settlement’s Alphas had learned to steer clear of him. No, Nine angry wasn’t unusual, but Tomas felt unsettled and that couldn’t be good.

Both Bryan and Dillyn rose to their feet as Mirian stepped off the porch. A gesture held them in place. The dead grass whispering under her boots, she crossed toward the path that led through the trees to the rest of the settlement. They’d been given land on the
outskirts, half cleared, house half built and abandoned. Working together to make it habitable had smoothed out most of the Pack’s remaining twitches. Most. Not all.

She’d acquired a few twitches of her own.

“Just as you do not define the mage-craft, do not let it define you. If you fly everywhere, what use are your legs? You want to be the person you were as well as the person you are, walk. Sweat. Wait for strawberries to ripen the same as everyone else.” Hayla blinked eyes as much white from cataracts as from her scattering of mage marks and grinned toothlessly. “Don’t let young Master Hagen define your body, as enjoyable as that is. Define it yourself lest you lose it. You and the mage-craft are one, but you must be Alpha. Where are you taking those strawberries?”

“You said…”

“I said you should wait. I’m old and have a pitiful fraction of your power. Hand them over. Now, go pick up that mountain you dropped.”

Before Mirian reached the path, Nine trotted out into their clearing and crossed to where Dusty was stalking a beetle. Hackles up, he turned to face the trees, saying as clearly as if he’d spoken, that whoever was coming would only get near Dusty through him.

Tomas was in fur although the man with him wasn’t. He wore an Aydori greatcoat pulled tight under the straps of the pack rising behind his head.

“Captain Reiter.” Not a question. And Tomas felt unsettled, not surprised.

Nor did he look surprised after he changed and moved to stand by her side.

“Miss Maylin. Lord Hagen.” Reiter had gotten better at ignoring skin and looking Pack in the eye although a fresh scar on his jaw suggested it had taken him a while to learn. “The Pack Leader sent me to check on you.”

It was strange to see him in gray and white. The gold of his hair, the red of his whiskers, the blue of his eyes were gone. Mirian found herself missing color in a way she hadn’t for months. “To check on me?”

“On all of you.” Reiter looked calm as he swept his gaze over the visible members of the Pack. Nine stopped Dusty’s advance with a growl, then growled again in Reiter’s direction.

To Mirian’s surprise, the captain tipped his head to the side before
saying, “Did you know they call you the Ghost Pack in the empire? You’ve become part of the stories people tell.”

“Really.” Tomas snorted. “What do they call you in the empire?”

“Traitor.”

Harsh but true.

“The Pack Leader,” Reiter began, but Mirian cut him off.

“Isn’t Alpha here. I am.” Mirian laid her words on the breeze. “She knows you’ve arrived, and that’s all she needs to know for now.” When Reiter drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, Mirian saw he breathed in through his nose, like Pack. “What do
we
call you?” she murmured.

“I guess that’s for you to say.”

“Do you have a first name, or is it captain?”

He stared at her for a long moment. “Sean.”

“Sean.” His eyes had been a pale enough blue that seen through mage-craft they were almost silver. “I guess if you want to know what we call you here…She could feel his life at the edges of her senses. “…you’ll have to stay for a while until we figure it out.”

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The finest in Fantasy and Science Fiction
by TANYA HUFF from DAW Books:

THE SILVERED

***

THE ENCHANTMENT EMPORIUM
THE WILD WAYS

***

The Confederation Novels:

A CONFEDERATION OF VALOR

Valor’s Choice/The Better Part of Valor

THE HEART OF VALOR (#3)

VALOR’S TRIAL (#4)

THE TRUTH OF VALOR (#5)