It drawled soft into condescension. Ire was almost as good as pain, sifting through the internal bedlam and lulling it quiet.
“I need you at my back, in yourself. It isn’t my intent for either of us to die hamstrung by prowlingKin—”
“Našo—!”
With a whirl and push against the bow, Našobok’s arrow released, found its target with a sullen thud and a shrill yelp.
Chaos erupted beside them. The mare leapt, twisted and bucked, kicked out with a furious, hoarse grunt. Another ki-yi. A shadow rippled to Tokela’s knife hand; he spun, flung his spear. A third shriek answered his aim.
Našobok took down another. Several more pairs of glowing orbs joined those waiting on the fringe.
The speared dog was trying to drag itself away. Tokela followed, whispered apology for not making a clean kill even as he grabbed the spear shaft and twisted, sharp, hopping sideways to avoid the dying snap.
Front hoofs striking and great teeth flashing, the mare squealed as one of the predators leapt for her. She grabbed ša by the nape, shook with an audible crunch, then flung ša aside. Another lunged into the lit circle; Tokela leapt forwards and pinned ša to the ground with his spear, finished the job with his knife.
The pack ringed tighter. There were more than had started. The mare drew closer to her companions, snorting low in her chest.
Stars throbbed dull behind Tokela’s eyes. He bit his tongue until he tasted blood. They receded.
“Tokela?”
“I’m here.”
Našobok’s gaze flickered back and forth, troubled. “This isn’t good. There are”—he loosed another arrow, and the predators scattered as one fell—“too many. I thought to save you from the tall ones, and instead…”
It was hard to stay angry at Našobok for long when such raw concern broke his talk.
“I think you have to try. Influence them. Not with outLand witchery, but your Elemental’s aid.”
“I can’t hear Her, don’t you under—”
She is not here, true. But She is not the only one who will stand in you, little brother. The diminutive curled fond-quiet, no insult. Earth, rippling beneath Tokela’s feet. Fire, tongued with a faint breath of Wind…
Eyes no longer his. Or reflexes. With a negligent flip of spear, Tokela strode towards the waiting predators.
“Tokela—!” Našobok tried to snatch at him, but missed, as if the swift motion had been done underwater.
No worry, Tokela wanted to whisper, he wasn’t about to walk into the waiting jaws; thankfully his body obeyed, halting beside the makeshift hearth. Another flip of spear, the bloodied point swinging downwards.
Sparks leapt. As if the spear were a conduit, a gust of smoke and flame roiled up. Našobok cursed and tottered back; Tokela didn’t move as heat glossed his eyes, flared up about him.
The mare snorted, popped a front hoof towards the flames but stood fast.
Yelping panic, the predators scuttled back.
Fire surrounded him, touched him, filled him. Opened him—
Panic rose. Let me go. Please don’t, let me go—
—but didn’t burn, held firm.
And from searing edges whispered a soft not-voice. Some things needn’t be done alone, cousin. Better, though, if you learned to ask before you reached and nigh yanked me from my horse.
GNAWING WORRY grew sharper teeth, bit down.
Untutored. Strong. Overwhelming, if Palatan hadn’t his own strengths.
Anahli gasped. Her horse tried to take off; she held her, held on. Palatan’s own mare shied sideways, and the same muscles his daughter had just used—trained since before either of them could walk—also kept him a-horse: thighs against hide, fingers laced into ebon mane.
It took some doing, but Palatan retrieved control over what had been snatched from him—
before you nigh yanked me from my horse—
—and slid off his mount, teeth and fists clenched. Turned towards dawn, where the horizon was beginning to light itself silver-grey as the fleethounds, panting and watching. Anahli had also dismounted, grasped both sets of reins, awaiting his lead. Her eyes once again whirled with faintest Starlight; Wind breathed from the coming dawn, lifted strands of hair about her cheeks, and Fire kindled upon a horizon…
Where a wilding talent groped unaware for whatever help ša could find, surrounded by predators in the desert.
Palatan smiled, spread his feet upon Grandmother’s grassy flank. He extended one hand, felt Anahli’s fingers lace snugly into his, and… reached.
It should be difficult, at this distance. It wasn’t. Fire reached back, welcomed and spun Palatan into contact, would have locked him tight-bound into the Sharing. But Palatan kept his own control firm, snugged Anahli at his side, and spun out what Spirit he could…
Not without a fond whisper for an absent oathbrother who willingly Walked with shamanKin.
Not just Fire, but Earth and Wind, a longing, faraway whisper from River, and…
Stars. A scream of Ice and Fire and Other set upon taking, to capture a changeling boy and whatever he had touched, Shaped. Anahli leaned forwards, wilful mutiny; Palatan denied the wilding Power, slamming his own shields down just in time.
“Yeka!” Anahli protested, “we can’t just—”
“We have given him what we can! This… this is a Chepiś thing!” Palatan snapped back. “It is the one thing we cannot join with—”
“Tokela has, and won!”
“So far,” he whispered, looking to the horizon.
Anahli untangled her hand from his. Defeat lingered about them, skimming the back of Palatan’s tongue like soured mare’s milk.
Scavengers. Not Kin. Nonetheless the lingering wait dissolved; filling the space was an oddling approach, careful-slow.
“It’s them, isn’t it?” Anahli breathed. “Chepiś. They… hunt him.”
No need to ask which “him”.
Hunting. Against the truce. Against…
“Follow!” Palatan leapt on his horse, whirled her on her muscular, spotted haunches, and galloped back the way he’d come.
Anahli, after a breath of hesitation and a glance towards the horizon, followed.
THE DISENGAGEMENT, so abrupt, nearly felled Tokela. Only then did he realise he’d sought the contact, unaware of what, or how.
“Tokela?” An odd mix of apprehension and composure laced Našobok’s voice.
Fire had opened the way. Fire was Palatan’s… co-tenant, that was Ša’s calling, gleaned from
