Oathblood

'Mara, I-' Kethry swallowed. I'll say I haven't got the vaguest notion what she's talking about, she'll know I'm lying. '-my partner and I are here by merest chance. We're on our way down to the Dhorisha Plains. Mara, I'll be blunt; you look awful. That's why Egon asked me to follow you. He's worried about you. Are you ill? Can I help?'

Mara's hands came up to her throat. 'Liar! He wants it, too! He sent you to take it away from me!'

Kethry raised her chin and looked squarely into those mad, glazed eyes. 'Mara, Egon is a Master craftsman. He doesn't need magic. And I don't need some stupid trinket to shape-change; I can do it myself. I don't because it's dangerous-'

'Oh, yes, I remember you! Dear, bright, pretty Kethry! You never needed anything, did you? They gave you everything you ever wanted -- power, magic, secrets -- all those old men just fell over themselves to give you what they kept from me, didn't they? And the young men gave you -- other things -- didn't they?' Mara's face contorted into a snarling mask of hate. 'Well, I've got secrets now, secrets they tell me. They made me their lover, just like those old men made you -- they come to me when I change, and they make love to me, and they whisper their secrets-'

As she babbled on about her 'secrets' and her 'lovers,' Kethry realized with a sense of growing horror what must have happened. She'd changed, possibly for the first time, during mating season. And now she had convinced herself that the male bears that had mated with her were the long-gone shape-changing builders of the ruins--

Never particularly stable, perhaps it had been the shock of mating as an animal -- and being unable to cope with it -- that had pushed her over the edge.

'--well, you can't have it!' Mara shrieked at the top of her lungs. 'It's mine, it's mine, it's--'

The words blurred, the voice deepened, the shapeless bundle of fur took on a shape. The words were lost in the roar of the enraged bear that balanced manlike on hindlegs, and advanced -- no longer clumsy -- on Kethry. 'Mara-Mara!'

There was an oddly shaped metal pendant slung about the bear's neck on a blackened thong. Kethry reached for it with her own magic, to try and nullify it -- and met nothing.

This 'talisman' was not magic at all! Mara's shape-changing was not the result of some ancient sorcery; it was only that she believed the medallion could work the change.

And in magic, as Kethry had often told her partner, belief is the most important component.

'Mara, I don't want your talisman! It's worthless--'

The bear ignored the words, dropping to all fours and continuing to advance, saliva dripping from her snarling jaws.

Kethry flung a sleeping-spell at the shape-changer. It was the most powerful spell she had in her depleted arsenal at the moment. She'd used so much trying to escape Wethes' makeshift prison--

The bear ignored the spell; ignored the mage-barrier she hied to erect to hold it off.

She convinced herself she can change shape -- she probably convinced herself she can defend against spells, too--

So she really can.

Kethry stumbled backward, stumbled and fell over the blade strapped to her side.

Need!

She tried to draw the sword-

-and discovered that she couldn't. It would not clear the sheath. It wouldn't allow itself to be used against a woman.

The bear reared up on hind legs again, as Kethry backed into the tangle of roots and frozen earth and found herself trapped. She drew her belt knife; a futile enough gesture, but she was not going to go down without a fight.

And an arrow skimmed over her right shoulder to bury itself in the bear's throat.

The bear screamed, and pawed at the shaft, and a second joined the first -- then a third, this one thudding into the shaggy chest.

A fourth landed beside the third.