did not want him as much as he wanted them. Even though weakness was dangerous, he could not be angry at himself for flinching, for showing emotion. Jem was safe. He could show his true self to Jem.
If Jem saw Ree’s weakness, he did not show it. He pointed at the snake. “You could have done what he would have done. You’re human, Ree. And I will follow wherever you go.”
Ree shook himself. It seemed to him he’d been living in a long nightmare and just awakened.
He edged past the body of the snake thing, trying not to look at it. He took a deep breath, and extended his claws. “Let’s get out of here.” The bars in the grate were set wide, to let debris through. They should be far enough apart.
Jem nodded.
To Ree’s relief, the grate was wide enough for him to slip through, even if he did lose some fur on his shoulders and hips on the way.
He and Jem stumbled out of the river, into the moonlight, looking at a strange new world that held nothing they knew. Low, rolling hills stretched to the darkness of mountains, and the silver moonlight gave it all the look of a ghost land.
Ree sought Jem’s hand at the same time as the boy sought his. Their hands met, warm and moist. They stood there a moment, rat boy and street rat, facing a world of dangers they could not begin to anticipate.
“Well,” Ree said finally. “Guess we’d better get going. Got a ways to go and a lot to learn.”
“Yah.” Jem squeezed his hand. “Got a whole world to find, out here.”
They walked into the moonlight.
ALL THE AGES OF MAN
Tanya Huff lives and writes in rural Ontario with her partner, four cats, and an unintentional Chihuahua. After sixteen fantasies, she’s written two space operas,
and
and is currently working on a series of novels spun off from her Henry Fitzroy vampire series. In her spare time she gardens and complains about the weather.
“I’M too young for this.”
Although Jors had spoken the words aloud, thrown them, as it were, out onto the wind without expecting an answer, he received one anyway.
“Doesn’t make it any less true.”
Jors snorted and shifted in the saddle. “So
Gervais snorted in turn.
“I’m not a teacher.”
And that was why they were heading northeast, out to the edge of their sector to meet with Herald Jennet and her greenie. To accept said greenie from the older Herald and finish out the last eleven months of her year and a half of Internship. The courier who’d brought the news of Jennet’s mother’s sickness had also brought the news that the Herald able to replace her was already in the Sector but way over on the other side of a whole lot of nothing. It was decided he’d start his circuit from there and Jennet would backtrack the much shorter distance to meet up with Jors.
The girl’s name was Alyise, her companion’s name was Donnel, and that was pretty much all Jors knew. He couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone of that name amidst the Grays during the rare times he’d been at the Collegium over the last few years and he only remembered her Companion as a long-legged colt.
The thing was, he liked being on the road and he much preferred the open spaces of the Borders to any city, so he went back on Circuit as fast as he could be reassigned. That didn’t give him much time to learn about the latest Chosen and when he did meet up with other Heralds, he was much more interested in finding out what his year-mates had been doing.
“Jennet has got to be ten years older than I am. At least. And she’s a woman.”
Strands of the Companion’s mane slid across Jors’ fingers like white silk as Gervais tossed his head.
“Women are better at teaching girls. They understand girls. Me . . .” He rubbed a dribble of sweat off the back of his neck. “. . . I don’t get girls at all.”
“Continuously agreeing? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, ha ha. Very funny. “ Jors could feel Gervais’ amusement—the young stallion did indeed think it was very funny. “As I recall, Erica and I weren’t the only two keeping company that night.”
“Well, I’m sorry we kept you from your beauty sleep and you needn’t worry about it happening again for, oh, about eleven months.”
Jors sighed. Pleasant. Well, he supposed it was preferable to the alternative. “Thank you. But that’s not the point. I’ll be Alyise’s teacher, her mentor; I can’t take advantage of my position of power.”
“Yes, but . . .” He felt a subtle shift of smooth muscles below him echoed by a definite shift of attention and fell silent.
If that was true, and Jors had no reason to doubt Jennet’s Companion, they were a lot closer to the crossroad than he’d thought. He glanced over his shoulder to check on Bucky and found the pack mule tucked up close where Gervais’ tail could keep the late summer insects off his face. And that was another possible problem. Mules were mules regardless of who they worked for and mules that worked for Heralds could be just as obstinate and hard to get along with as any other. They’d be adding a new mule to the mix.
It was a good thing Companions always got along.
And speaking of . . .
“Why didn’t Donnel contact you? Can’t he reach this far?”
“You’ll be senior to Donnel as well, then.”
Jors grinned. “Wishing Alyise’s Companion was a mare?”
His grin broadened as it became quite clear that Gervais had no intention of answering.
“She’s a good kid,” Jennet said, glancing over at where the youngest of the three Heralds was carefully packing away the remains of the meal they’d shared. “Eager, enthusiastic . . .”
“Exhausting?” Jors suggested as her voice trailed off.
“A little,” the older Herald admitted with a smile. “But you’re a lot younger than I am, you should be able to keep up.”
“That’s just it. I’m too young to be doing this. I’m no teacher.”
“You have doubts.”
He only just managed not to roll his eyes. “Well, yes.”
“Does your Companion doubt you?”
“Gervais?” Jors turned in time to see Gervais rising to his feet after what had clearly been a vigorous roll, his gleaming white coat flecked with bits of grass. “Gervais has never doubted me.”
