satisfy his ambitions and appetites. He could trap others inside the borders, but could not free himself. The irony was not lost on him.
He sniffed the cold, tugging wind. He smelled. . goodness. Not one, but a handful of shining goody-two-shoes lay in one of the tents. New blood come to the land. He had not brought these people over. Sometimes the land itself plucked away someone from another place. There seemed no logic to the land's choices, or none that he could understand.
Harkon ran fingers under his cloak, over a small bump in his tunic. It was a magic amulet, an amulet that allowed the wearer to switch bodies, whether the other person wished it or not. He had seen it used once, had killed the owner of the amulet, and kept it, until he found the right use for it.
He had been forced to flee from Konrad Burn. The warrior was a superb fighter, and Harkon had feared he might be forced to harm the man in order to save himself. It wouldn't have done to damage the very body he planned to inhabit. So he had fled, leaving his dire wolves to be slaughtered.
A growl started low in his chest, climbing up his throat to spill in a snarl from his lips. The sound should have had fur around it and fangs. If anyone had been near enough to hear and see, they would have known him for what he was: a wolfwere. Harkon had never been human, but once he held Konrad Burn's body, would he be human? Would he lose his ability to shapechange?
He did not know. So much was unknown, but the gamble was worth it. If he could be free to travel all the lands, his power would know no bounds.
He stood contemplating his future conquests. It brought a smile to his handsome face. Killing usually did.
Konrad Burn was part Vistani. He didn't look it, but he was, and he could travel to any land because of it. Jonathan Ambrose's mother had been a gypsy, too, so he was also free to travel. But Ambrose was too old. If Harkon really did become human, he wanted as many years left to him as possible.
He had thought about taking his choice of gypsies, but something had protected them, as if the land itself kept them safe. Harkon did not understand why, but he knew that to harm them was to risk much. Kartakass was his, yet there were some things the land would not allow. Harming gypsies was one of them.
Why had the land brought in these new people? They stank of goodness. The smell of it attracted evil. Harkon himself had been drawn to them. They had come so conveniently near to him and his wolves. Harkon wanted to feast on pure flesh, to crack the bones of saintly men and suck the marrow from them. There was nothing like fresh marrow to warm a wolf-were on a cold winter's day. Then it had all gone wrong. Had the land planned it that way? He was never sure how conscious of its own actions the land was.
They had killed the two that shone the brightest, extinguished that goodness forever. He had been far away in the forest when he felt what the cleric had done. It had felt like a great stabbing whiteness in his head. Even behind closed eyelids he could see the light. It had called to every evil thing in the land. If Harkon had not forbidden it, the creatures of Kartakass would have descended on the party like a plague. They wouldn't have survived a mile. But his future body was traveling with these interlopers. Harkon would not risk any harm coming to Konrad Burn until he himself brought it.
The wolfwere watched through the night, for he did not trust every evil thing that crawled or flew in Kartakass, not with so much shining goodness blazing forth. It was a candle flame to a moth, irresistible though it burned away the wings that bore the creature to it.
Harkon had made it plain he would punish anyone who harmed them, but there were things in the land that would care more for the killing than the punishment afterward. Harkon sympathized, and once he had the body, the land could slaughter every man and woman among them.
But for now, Harkon Lukas stood knee-deep in snow-cold, irritable, and watching over them all. The bard of Kartakass guarded the sleep of Jonathan Ambrose, mage-finder.
Harkon, who enjoyed irony when it was at someone else's expense, chuckled in the winter's dark. Perhaps he would tell the mage-finder what had kept him safe in his travels, tell him, watch his face crumble in disbelief, then kill him. A low, growl trickled from his lips. Yes, that sounded like fun. A poor wolf-were was entitled to a little fun in the middle of a larger plot. A little frivolous cruelty always made him feel better.
«^»
SEVENTEEN
The next morning, the sky was an unrelieved white that promised snow. Beneath that sky came Elaine's horse, wandering back into camp without the slightest hint of apology for nearly breaking the girl's back. There was a gleam in its eyes that said it would be happy to give it another try. Elaine had hoped it had been eaten by wolves.
Thordin spooned stew into thick pockets of bread that he had made to hold the stew. It was an invention of his from his homeland. He called them 'kangaroo sandwiches.' A much younger Elaine had asked what a kangaroo was, and his description had been so funny, she hadn't believed him. Carrying its young around in a pouch, indeed. It was a tale to enthrall travelers who could never check one's story. But she, like all the others, dutifully called them kangaroo sandwiches.
Elaine sat on a log by the fire, Blaine beside her. He was on his second sandwich. Silvanus and Averil sat across the fire, eyeing the morning fare.
'How are you this morning?' Elaine asked.
'I feel quite myself again.' Silvanus gave her a small nod.
Konrad had convinced the strangers not to mention anything to Jonathan of Elaine's new talent, fearing that one more magical ability would make the mage-finder send her packing. Elaine had told no one of what she and Jonathan had discussed before the fire last night. She doubted Jonathan could think less of her than he already did, nor she of him.
Fredric and Randwulf reclined before the fire, wrapped thickly against the cold. Konrad had bandaged the wounds that still bled. Silvanus had been too weak to heal them yesterday, so Elaine had volunteered, but the elf thought she was too new. He had helped her heal himself. Neither of the warriors could do that.
Fredric took a small bite of the kangaroo sandwich. He rolled it round, tasting. Then a broad smile spread across his face. 'This is wonderful.' He finished the rest in three bites. Randwulf matched him, bite for bite. Being wounded clearly hadn't affected their appetites.
The elf and his daughter took smaller bites, but seemed to enjoy the food. Anyone who had eaten Blaine's dinner of gray stuffing, herb-sauced sausages, and rock-cake cookies was grateful for the simpler but more edible meal. Thordin had no gourmet pretensions, but he could cook anything and make it tasty. On really long trips, it was best not to ask what was in the stew. There are some meats that, despite their pleasant flavor, turn the knowing stomach.
Elaine glanced back at Silvanus. There was something different about him, some change overnight that her eyes noticed but her mind could not make sense of. What was it? Something had changed in his appearance. Mot that she had become an expert on what elves, even this particular elf, should look like.
Silvanus had no trouble eating the sandwiches one-handed. Had Thordin made them knowing the wounded could eat them easily? Probably. Thordin was thoughtful and courteous, when he could be so quietly.
'Which one are you staring at?' Blaine asked. He spoke low, face nearly touching her hair.
She felt the heat climb up her face and knew she was blushing. It was like an admission of guilt though she was entirely innocent.
'It is impolite to stare at people,' she said. She was now staring fixedly at the ground. Mo matter what had happened between them, Silvanus was a near stranger, and she had been staring. It would be too awful if Silvanus thought as Blaine did, that she was staring at him.
Blaine grinned. 'Then what were you staring at?' His grin was the crooked one he wore when he was determined to tease.
'There is something different about the elf this morning, but I can't figure out what it is.'
Blaine glanced across the fire. Averil caught him looking and smiled. He grinned back, not upset in the least to have been caught looking at a pretty girl.
'You two look a fine pair, whispering before the fire.' The voice made her whirl. The wizard was behind them.
