Elvenbane

her was astonishing.

All of which boded interesting times for the Kin and the Lair when they got back. If she'd been this strong, she wouldn't have been driven out in the first place...and they wouldn't be able to drive her out again! No one would be able to do anything to her anymore...

But that was secondary, really. What was important was that he had found her in the first place. I can't wait to see her, to find out what's happened to her! He tossed his head and pranced with glee, all of his discouragement and depression changed in that single moment of discovery.

He looked about quickly, out of sheer force of habit. It was growing dark, and he hadn't seen anyone on this wilderness track for...days. There was absolutely no point in keeping to the one-horn form he'd taken to keep predators and hunters away, not now, not when there was no one to see him. Without another thought, he sprang into the air and shifted in midleap, resuming his Kin-shape with a sigh of relief.

Not for the first time, he wondered how his mother could stand it. Anything else felt like his skin was too tight. He'd had no choice, until now. Several times, when he'd thought he was safe, he'd rounded a bend in the road and come face-to-face with a collared human out on some errand of his master's...or even an entire pack-train of them. With the collars on, it was impossible to sense them; impossible to know where they were. So Keman had kept to a form that, while unusual, was also threatening enough to keep the curious at a distance.

The seductive song of magic came again, this time sustained, as if Shana was doing something that took a good deal of time. And it was joined by other, lesser melodies. She wasn't alone, then. No, he could feel...hmm...six or seven other wizards, and a lot more people. Humans, but uncollared, and young, he thought. Keman caught his direction and flew off, wings beating strongly, at just above treetop-level. And with every wing-beat, he wanted to sing along with the melodies of well-constructed magery, caroling with joy. I can't believe it...I finally, finally found her! And no one is ever going to take her away from me again!

It had been a discouraging winter. Lord Dyran's estate had proved as barren of information as the city, and his rivals offered little more. Keman's guise of a young elven lord made him practically invisible...and for some cases, shifting into human slave form was even better, for very little attention was paid to slaves on most estates, so long as they were either working or at least not absent from an appointed duty. But none of this helped Keman in his quest for information, for Shana might just as well have vanished down a hole to the center of the earth.

Finally, for lack of anything else, Keman had taken to the wilderness. There were 'wild humans' rumored to be living there; Shana might have escaped to them. Certainly, between them, the terrain and the wildlife made traveling the few roads that passed through those lands quite difficult.

All of which just proved that the elven lords didn't have quite as much control over this world as they thought they did.

Elves didn't take to those tracks willingly, and humans not at all unless ordered. Every year, pack-trains were lost to causes unknown, and more than a few travelers desperate or stupid enough to journey alone never reached their destinations. The elves claimed officially that the losses were due entirely to weather and wildlife, but rumors spoke of huge bands of bandit humans, commanded by some unknown or unnamed elven lord, who swooped down on the unwary traveler to rob and kill.

And there were other rumors, spoken in whispers, in corners, that said those bandits were commanded by no elven lord, but by other humans, and that they had sworn to die before wearing a collar.

In honest truth, during all his time here Keman had seen no sign of 'huge bands of humans,' collared or otherwise. What he had seen was the result of elven tampering with weather and ecology; terrible storms that could sweep up out of nowhere, pounding an area with wind, torrential rain, and lightning, or burying it in snow and ice. He had never seen so many one-horns before, black and white...he guessed that at least half the one-horns still alive and breeding were here, in these wilderlands. And one-horns were by no means the fiercest of the predators prowling these woods. He'd encountered many creatures he had no name for, more evidence of failed elven tampering in hopes of producing creatures that could be sent out to kill hundreds of human pawns in their staged battles. Evidently they had not learned their lesson with the one-horns.

But there was no need for 'huge bands of bandits' to explain the losses on these roads. Elven interference and indifference were more than enough to ensure that these wilderlands remained hostile.

The light was failing, but Keman altered his eyes for night-vision; both to use all the available light, and to see things by the heat they radiated. The second gave him an odd kind of view down through the boughs of the trees below. Pine-scent blew up to him as the branches tossed with his passing, as if he were creating a kind of tiny windstorm as he flew.

The magic-song ended, but Keman had his bearings. His own mind-reach was limited, but as soon as he thought Shana might hear him, he began calling with his mind. At first there was no answer, which was pretty much what he had expected, but as he neared, he heard a reply, and much sooner than he thought he would.

:Keman?: The voice in his head was incredulous, faltering a little, a bit stunned. :Keman, is that... That is you! Fire and Rain, I never thought...where are you?: She sounded even better than her magic; her thoughts were strong and clear, and he thought fleetingly that Alara would be proud of her control.

:Northeast of you, and closing.: he replied smugly, feeling rather proud of himself. :Did you really think I'd let you get thrown out here and not at least try to find you? I've been looking for you since before the snow fell, and...:

:Keman, I've got people with me.: she interrupted warningly. :Halfbloods and humans, and I can't leave them. And they can't see you, you know that. You know what would happen to you, and to Foster Mother. It's bad enough that the elven lords have dragon-skin. At least most of them don't have the faintest idea what it is. But if anyone, even the elven lords' enemies, see a real dragon...:

:Not a problem, don't worry,: he assured her. :I know how to handle the situation. Just be ready for your long-lost foster brother to find you shortly. He's been looking for you since those humans stole you out of the desert. Umm...halfblood brother, or human?:

Silence for a moment, while powerful wingstrokes closed the distance between them. :Halfblood; I may have to bring you back with me to the Citadel...never mind, I'll explain all that. You just think up a convincing story about how you found me, why you came looking for me, and how you tracked me from the desert. I've told them that's where I lived, and I said I was a fosterling, but I never mentioned you or Alara.:

:All right,: he replied...scanning the forest ahead for an unusually large grouping of heat-sources. I think I see you,: he said, when one appeared just ahead of him. :I'll land and walk in.:

With that, he cut off his mental sendings; landing in trees this thick was going to take all his concentration. In fact, for a moment he wasn't sure he was going to manage it at all...

Then he spotted the clearing, where one of the forest giants had fallen, taking down an entire swath of lesser trees with it. There was just enough room along the path of its destruction for him to make a prey-catching stoop and backwing into a good landing without getting impaled on the branches...

Moments later, he was in halfblood form, and lurking in the shadows, watching from behind the shelter of a tree trunk and trying to think of how best to approach the camp. He couldn't see Shana from this angle, but there were three or four others in plain view from where he crouched, one human and two halfbloods, firelight flickering on their faces. They looked very young, at least to him...the human especially couldn't have seen more than a dozen summers. He was afraid to walk right up to them, for fear he'd startle them; the halfbloods probably could do the same kinds of things Shana could, and he didn't feel like getting pummeled by rocks...or worse, they might well be able to hurt or even kill with their powers. But he didn't want to sneak up on them, either; that could be misconstrued, too.

Someone solved the problem for him.

'Don't move,' said a hard, controlled voice in his ear, as something very sharp poked into his ribs. 'And be grateful your ears are a little less pointed than an elven lord's, or you wouldn't be standing here alive.'

The pure, expressionless cold of that voice sent shivers up his back, and ice down his veins. He swallowed, and coughed to clear his throat. 'I...uh...I'm looking for someone,' he began. He wondered if he ought to turn around, then decided that he probably had better not.