“Of course. I hope a few of the soldiers will as well, though I don’t intend to order it.”
Lileth let it go without commenting, escorting her from the strategy room to the half-ruined storage that had been converted to stables when they first arrived. “You should know there’s dissent in the ranks. A few diehard purists would rather see everything burn than walk the path you’ve chosen.”
Her mouth tightened. “They can burn without me. If we must be…harsh to set an example, so be it. I will have no talk of pure bloodlines or racial superiority.”
“Understood.” By the gravity of her expression, Lileth did grasp that Thalia was willing to execute her own if she must; she was that committed to this course.
“Have the vedda beasts been saddled?” Thalia asked.
“Your steed awaits.”
Her steed was a majestic white creature with two polished horns jutting from a proud forehead. The creatures were stocky and mountain-bred, surefooted even on the most dangerous slopes, and a shaggy coat meant the animal stayed warm all winter long, shedding in the spring. They were also stubborn and cantankerous, not a mount for the faint of heart.
Today, she armed up only with throwing knives, eschewing the lightning bracers she preferred for actual combat. Though Thalia knew she was at risk every moment of the day, this outing should be a negligible risk since patrolling Noxblades kept the area around Daruvar clear. We won’t range far enough for it to be dangerous.
With Lileth’s help, she fastened her armor and hurried to meet the rest of the party. It was no surprise to find Gavriel, Tirael, and Ferith waiting, the three Noxblades who had survived the hard-won Battle of Hallowell. Soon, he would need to accept the promotion she’d offered—Shadow Hand—which was equivalent to spymaster and head of the Noxblades. He also needed to recruit more young ones for training to fill out their depleted ranks, but she’d learned not to push him. Gavriel was more oak than willow and too much pressure would break him. In all these years, the fool had never learned to bend.
Tirael bowed quickly, not meeting her eyes. There was something odd about the woman, a flicker too much deference for Thalia’s comfort. Ferith followed suit but she paired the respectful gesture with a genuine smile.
The wolves had already shifted, and she guessed the large black one must be Raff. Those golden eyes were uncanny, gazing out from a canine face, and he opened his mouth in what almost looked like a toothy grin. Thalia was momentarily dumbstruck by the sheer impressive size of these changed Animari. She didn’t know much about wolves, but even she could detect differences in bone structure and fur patterns. Among the wolves stood an enormous tiger, pacing with barely concealed impatience.
I should learn more about them.
It wasn’t like her to leave a task half-done, and though she hadn’t initially planned to become the wolf lord’s lady, if not his queen, she would throw herself fully into the role. Raff loped over to her, standing as tall as her thigh. Nobody would ever mistake a shifted Animari for a natural woodland creature. She extended a hand, then paused.
“May I?”
The black wolf dipped his head, so she touched two fingers to the plush fur between his ears. A little sigh slipped out of her. While she had no such desires where the man was concerned, she couldn’t stop the thought that it would be lovely to hug him in wolf form and put her cheek against his warm head.
“I will be your hunt master!” Gavriel called. “We will be splitting into teams of two. If numbers allow, our Animari guests should choose an Eldritch partner, as we know the terrain best.”
Since Raff was already standing at her side, Thalia said, “Partners?”
And received a little growl in response that she took for assent, especially since he didn’t move while the others ran about. Once the couples were set, Magda was left without a partner, and Gavriel scowled. “Tiger woman, I will take you myself.”
Probably in response to his tone, the great striped cat raked the air near his knees, forcing him to leap to avoid a nasty claw swipe. Thalia bit back a laugh. It wasn’t often that someone got the best of Gavriel.
The stableman led Guthrie out, offering Thalia the reins. A less stalwart creature would be panicked to be standing among so many predators, but her mount only pawed the ground with diamond-sharp hooves as if warning the wolves and great cat not to venture too close. She swung astride without aid and waited for Gavriel to blow the hunting horn.
“Here is your prey,” he called, as a drone whirred into view, white and silver, so it would be difficult to track visually in this terrain. “Bring it back intact or in pieces. The victor will receive a great prize from our treasury and, of course, full bragging rights.”
The horn sounded.
As the gates opened, she raced out ahead of the pack, Raff running beside her. He seemed to match her mount’s speed easily, and Thalia admitted they made an impressive sight: white vedda beast with Eldritch warrior queen flanked by her great black wolf. This is a scene straight from one of the old stories, worthy of being captured in stained glass.
She also knew that the others had given her a head start and Gavriel had probably told them to hold back—to let her win. As if she was such a poor sport.
There could be no reciprocal conversation in this form, though he understood everything she said. “You take point. I’m no tracker, but my beast can keep up.”
Raff let out an affirmative yip and it gave her pleasure to see how joyfully he bounded forward, leaping over rocks and down snowy slopes as if he had been born in these hills.
“I’ll follow you,” she said, and wondered if he knew how strange it was,
