Wolf’s Cub

Chapter 15

Colin sighed as he tried, once more, to teach the twins their final lesson for the day. Melli had been dismissed already, her lessons completed in record time.  She was free to play with her new pet, a kitten one of the islanders had brought for her, which she chose to do within view of the classroom, no doubt thinking that seeing her at play would motivate the boys to complete their work so they could join her.  Instead, they were distracted and Colin had to draw their attention back from the window time after time.

Colin found that the boys were not the only ones who had trouble resisting the urge to day-dream.  His thoughts repeatedly drifted out the window to the garden, drawn by Melli’s bright laughter as she watched the small furry creature leap in vain after the brilliantly colored island birds.

“The birds are not much afraid of the cat, are they,” Rafe observed, amused, as they saw the kitten jump back in alarm when he ventured too close to a myna, who made its displeasure with the intruder known in strident tones.

“Is the poor thing blind?” Nic’s concern was mirrored by Melli, who cradled her small pet protectively as she chased the large birds away. 

“Or just not paying attention?” Rafe suggested, casting a side-ling look at his brother. Being absent-minded was a particular flaw of his twin’s and had led to many a bump and bruise, not to mention scoldings from Michael.

Colin thought he saw a teaching moment in the kitten’s struggles with the island birds.

“The goddess provides for each creature, Dominic, Rafael...both the cats on the prowl and the birds of the air.  Each is given its own special gifts, which can prove an advantage against foes, or prey, if used wisely. What is the problem here, assuming, as we have every reason to do, that the kitten who now chases the ribbon Melli is holding out for it, is not impaired in its vision?”

The boys laughed to see the kitten falling over its tail as it chased after Melli’s blue hair ribbon, which the small girl held tantalizingly out of its reach.

“How does the goddess provide for such a silly creature as Melli’s kitten?” Rafe shook his head at the silly creature’s persistence in chasing the ribbon.

His twin grinned. “I can answer that!  She guided it safely to this island, where it will be fed the choicest fish and lured into exercise by a mistress both kind and wise, otherwise it would become so fat from Melli’s indulgence it wouldn’t be able to find it’s own ....”

Colin raised an eyebrow. It was sufficient to give Nic pause, his cheeks flushing slightly with his embarrassment. He was but ten, still capable of being embarrassed by Colin’s cool demeanor. Their Druid teacher seemed to be untouched by the baser interests that took up so much of the island men’s thoughts and conversation.

“Tail,” Michael suggested.  The three of them turned startled; no one had heard him enter, he was so silent. His only acknowledgment of their surprise was a slight lift of his lips before he continued, “A fat cat would have trouble finding his own tail no doubt about it, Dominic.  An apt observation. But not the one your wise teacher seeks from his students, I suspect.”

Colin smiled, relieved to have this session finally brought to an end by the entrance of his friend. But no, Michael waved to him casually to continue, indicating that he would observe the rest of the lesson. Colin restrained his sigh. He wondered if Michael knew just how regal he appeared at times like this, as he reclined in a conjured divan and crossed his legs, his arms behind his head as he made himself comfortable, seeming to observe Colin’s performance as teacher as much as he was there to watch the young princes’ performance as scholars. He looked very much like his brother, King Adam, in a teasing mood, Colin thought. Yet, he had a graceful, almost feline strength that was all his own, he mused before turning his attention back to his students.

Rafe was eager to win his father’s approval and Colin nodded for him to give his answer.

“The kitten is fast and can jump high.  His claws as he grows older will enable him to climb the trees and seek out the birds where they hide.”

“Ah, will that net the clever cat a bird?” Michael looked amused.

“Only if the bird forgets to fly away,” Nic said dreamily, looking at some of the high flying birds who could be seen high among the clouds. He turned suddenly and the two older men could see that he was communicating with his brother.  Michael and Colin exchanged looks.

“I believe your students are collaborating now, Advisor, which is wise of them, as they do better together than alone.”

“That is true for most of us,” was Colin’s mild reply. Green eyes met his gray ones in warm acknowledgment of the unspoken words.

[They are not easy to teach, but when the sparks ignite, it is rewarding, yes?]

Michael passed the message telepathically to Colin so only he would “hear” it. Colin replied in the same manner, able to do so with Michael’s help – they would get better as the years wore on but in their early years together it was difficult for Colin to keep secrets from the skilled telepaths they were raising.

[The twins are always both a challenge and a joy to teach. They are not as biddable as Mellisande, but in their way, they are just as bright and I think I learn as much from them as they learn from me.]

Michael’s crow of laughter startled the twins as much as the myna bird had frightened the kitten. They looked at him reproachfully, suspicious that he was amused at their expense. Michael reassured them, but only barely.

“Take heart, sons, I am reassured that you will be scholars yet, even if young Mellisande finishes her school day hours before you.”

Michael’s expression grew serious and he stood upright, his posture once again that of the Assassin. The twins looked guilty as he continued. “While it may please you to stay in the classroom all day, it is not fair to Colin, who has better things to do with his time. I would see, therefore, more concentration from the two of you, so that you can complete your day at least when your foster sister does, certainly no later.  So, tell us, no more delay, what advantages do cat and bird have and how do you carry the lesson to other situations? In other words, why does Colin waste his time having you think about cats and birds?”

Nic knew that as the elder, it was his duty to present the ideas that Rafe and he had come up with together – and to do it well, especially since their father had clearly lost patience with them. He stood and looked at his father, bowed briefly, then turned to the Advisor, their tutor.

“The cat is, as Rafe said, fast and agile, and he can jump. He is a natural hunter.  But the birds are elusive prey. Not only can they flee to the skies, but the birds that are not natural fighters or strong flyers have been given more subtle tricks by the goddess, such as coloring that enables them to hide in plain sight. The cat did not see the bird earlier because it blended in with the bright flowers of the garden. In the books you have shown us, Colin, those with drawings of the mainland, birds there are plainer, enabling them to blend in with the less colorful foliage of the trees and bushes found there.”

“And how is this knowledge of use to you?” Colin asked the question as Michael wanted done; in truth, Colin felt that knowledge was useful for its own sake.  He felt a frisson of humor brush against his mind, his friend’s way of telling him that he was aware of his concession.

Again, there was a pause and the men could see that the twins conferred though their twin bond was so tight their thoughts were not easily “overheard” without their knowledge. Michael was pleased by this and only tried to intercept their exchanges when necessary, or after giving them warning that he would be testing them.  Or when he suspected them of mischief.  In this instance, he and Colin waited patiently for the boys to tell them their conclusions.

Again, it was Nic who spoke, though he looked frequently to Rafe, seemingly seeking reassurance on details.  He presented a detailed analysis that impressed even Michael, who suspected that much of the strategy was being developed by his younger son, though the presentation was pure Nic.

Finally, Nic summarized the lesson with these words:

“We can use similar tactics when we elude hunters – or when we are hunting. We can turn from prey to predator by appearing to be the meek nestling and transform to the hunter cat when least expected.”

Colin waited for Michael to speak. The boys had done well, turning the lesson in natural history into one on strategies for camouflage and tactics. Turning, he was surprised to see Michael looking as though he were turned to stone.

[Does their answer trouble you, friend? I believed it to be very good, quite thorough, especially for their age, yet you look ....troubled.]

What he looked was shocked, but Colin did not know how to quite say that. Michael was pale beneath his tan.  Finally, after a moment’s silence, during which his sons waited nervously, Michael nodded briskly and told the twins they had done well.

“I hope to hear that you have done as well tomorrow – and within a reasonable amount of time, no more delay and daydreaming.  You may go now while I speak with Colin. But boys...” They paused in their excited rush for the door.  Michael raised one slim dark brow. 

”The goddess gave you two brains, she presumably intended for you each to use the one she gave you. Do not only use half a brain each or rely on each other so much during your lessons or we shall have to take steps to put an end to such reliance. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused, then rushed from the room after bowing to both men.

As soon as they left, Colin followed Michael back to the conjured divan, adding a straight-backed chair for himself.

“What is wrong, friend?”

Michael looked at him, his green gaze troubled. “I am not sure.  Queen Alicia would have said that a cat walked over my grave. One of those odd Second Kingdom sayings she was fond of, but it captures the feeling perfectly. When Nic spoke those final words, I could have sworn I heard them before.”

“Which words?” Colin asked, perplexed.

“About the meek one turning into the hunter cat when least expected...by the goddess, I believe I heard those words once long ago, in my childhood. But it makes no sense. Why would he have said such a strange thing?”

Colin was worried. There was a fey look in Michael’s eyes that was most troubling. His friend was under a great deal of stress and it was worse since he’d stopped his spy trips back to the mainland. He hoped the stress had not become too much for him to bear.  The past haunted Michael much more than it did the rest of them, which made sense since his losses were much greater.  In many ways, Colin’s days on the island were the happiest of his life, though he would never admit to such.

The happiness was marred by his worry for Michael. Colin lacked too many of the herbs that would be used to heal a troubled spirit were he back in his home Kingdom. The islanders had many herbs and remedies of their own but it was the work of many years to learn them all.

“Who said the words?” Colin asked in a calm voice, seeking to find the root of this distress.

Michael didn’t answer at first, his gaze was fixed on the three children playing with the kitten. It had just scratched Nic, causing him to bleed freely from a long gash in his arm.

The Assassin turned to the Advisor, his tone sharp. “It was Ben. My brother Ben said it, a long time ago, before I left to go to the Second Kingdom, about the time Adam was named heir to our Uncle, I think. I was very young but I remember Ben being...disappointed. Which was odd because he was the second son. He shouldn’t have expected any different result. I was supposed to be asleep but I can remember him talking to the druid who had served Uncle Jayson, my father’s older brother, he who would have been King after my grandfather had he not been killed so young. Jayson and the druid were inseparable and when Jayson died the druid seemed to take Ben under his wing.”

“Natural history is a popular field of study among druids,” Colin pointed out. “Perhaps he was merely tutoring him as I tutor the boys.”

“No...” Michael said slowly. “This was something specific he was telling Ben, something he told him for a reason. And what troubles me is that I believe that the memory was hidden from me until Dominic’s words restored the memory.”  Michael raised his eyes to Colin’s shocked gaze. It was a great offense in telepath families, to interfere with the memories of the young. It was akin to rape. It was just as offensive when done to an adult but the difficulty of it made it a rare event.

“Why would he do such a thing? Why steal your memory of something he told your brother? Was not your brother Ben the first to die? He died defending your father and Adam, did he not?”

“Yes.  He died defending them both. It was in the Candone palace. The druid took him to the tower to prepare his body for burial while Adam managed to get the King and himself to their stronghold where their guards helped him fight off the remaining attackers. When Adam went back to get Ben’s body, he was grieved to find that they had been burned in the tower room – one of the few ways a druid could be attacked in that sanctuary in Candone.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was a druid safe room. No attack could be made, no direct attack, that is, against a druid in that room.”

Colin’s face reflected his understanding. “I’ve heard of such rooms. They are discussed in my books. I believe I may have read some text on that exact one in the palace in Candone – it was a marvel in its day. There were very few limitations to its defenses – for druids. Are you saying that the druid was burned while in that room? Are you sure he was burned? Not that he merely succumbed to smoke?”

“I was told that a torch was thrown in one of the small windows to the room and that it caused his robes to burn. For some reason, the magic of the room didn’t extinguish the flames in time. All that was found by Adam were the charred remains of both bodies.”

Colin forbore to question him further as the old shadows were on his friend’s face. For once he was glad when the twins managed to get into mischief just then, distracting both of them from their serious thoughts. By the time they rescued both kitten and boys from the highest branches of a garden tree where they were being pecked by an angry bird guarding her nest, both men had forgotten the strange words and any thoughts of prey turning into cats.

*************

Hildenbran thanked the goddess – and King Dominic – for the good fortune that blessed him as he dodged the Authority’s guards, flying helter skelter throughout the Tower as he sought a place to hide.  He let his instincts guide him as he flew through the unknown halls of the great tower and he could feel the energy with which the King had suffused him pulsing, guiding his turns. He hoped it was not glowing as it had when he cast his protective spells or he feared he would be a beacon in the gloomy tower.

Find a corner and stay still, came a quiet whisper. The cat cannot kill what it cannot see.

Good advice, Hildebran thought. It was something he should have thought of sooner. As soon as he had the chance, being out of sight of his pursuers for a split second, he headed for a likely crossbeam. Then he stopped all movement.

And waited.

The guards ran past...once...twice...then a third time.  They never even thought to look up, not without the sound of flapping wings to tell them a bird was near. More dangerous was the hooded man who prowled the halls angrily, his robes swishing behind him as he searched. His temper made him hasty so he did not check as carefully as he might normally have done.

Most dangerous of all was the mountain cat, who came next to search; or rather, most dangerous was when the first cat was joined by a second. Hildebran was afraid to look down to be sure but he sensed that the cats were Metamorphs. There was a purposeful manner to their search and a cooperation one did not see with normal cats on the hunt. They were not pack animals, they looked out for themselves.  These cats stopped every so often to sniff the air but the protective spells Dominic had placed on Hildebran must have done something to prevent his scent from being traceable. Normally a Metamorph would be able to sense the presence of another by its scent, especially hunter Metamorphs such as the cats and wolves.

Eventually guards, hooded men and cats all disappeared and day turned into night. Hildebran crept down the wall in his bird form, not trusting to flying just in case any cats remained near. Black cats were as hidden by shadows at night as brown birds were against dark tower walls in the daylight.

Listening as carefully as he could and looking around, Hildebran could not distinguish any sounds or sights to tell him which way led back to the King’s brother and sister. It was uncanny how much Rafael Emory looked like King Dominic – if it were not for their very different auras, it would be quite confusing, he thought.  The Lady Mellisande was a great beauty, but she, like the two Emory men, seemed unaware of her beauty. It was refreshing, he thought wistfully. In his world, beauty was highly valued, especially among men. Sturn was sought after by, well, by everyone. Only Ren had been more brilliant.

Ren. Hildebran paused and took a deep breath. He felt as though he could feel Ren...smell him....

Smell him.

He blinked and shook his feathers. He wanted to shift to his human form and verify what his senses were telling him but it would be too risky. Still, he couldn’t resist following the elusive scent to a lower level. He crept slowly past a guard who slept on a bench a dozen feet away from the locked door and slipped his small bird form through the door’s barred window.

The sight that greeted him when he entered the room, the prison, made him fall to the floor, much as he had in the high tower room but this time it was not due to magic, but shock. After years of searching, he had finally found his nephew Ren. A battered, skeletal Ren, who seemed unconscious and barely alive, so changed from his former beauty but instantly recognizable to one who had loved him since the day he was born.

Hildebran was about to shift to his human form and try to wake Ren up but his innate cautious nature made him pause and listen for any indication that the room was monitored. The goddess be praised, he waited, because in that moment, there was the sound in the hallway of the guard being roughly kicked and shouted at. A cool voice cut through the sound of the Captain of the Guard ‘s reprimands.

“I can see why we lose prisoners and cannot find intruders. Kill that one as a warning to the others. If I see such disregard of duty again, Captain, it will be your life that is forfeit. Understood?”

The Captain did not need to be told twice. A sharp cry signaled that the sleeping guard had been sent to a never-ending sleep. The door was unlocked by a different young guard who looked queasy in Hildebran’s opinion. The hooded man stepped past him and Hildebran noted how the young guard’s eyes followed him fearfully. No loyalty there, he concluded. He wondered if these men of Candone served the Hooded Man willingly or whether the Authority forced them to this service. He remained hidden from view, behind a small commode in the corner of the room. He trusted to the smell to hide his scent just in case the spell’s protections were not enough in such small quarters.

The hooded man kicked Ren to get his attention.

“Wake up, bird man! You have family visiting!”

Hildebran swore his heart stopped as he at first thought the hooded man had detected his presence, but then he realized that it was just the strange man’s sense of humor revealing itself in his way of announcing that another bird Metamorph had been seen in the tower.

“Wake up, Raven, I know you are not dead.”

“Far be it from me or the goddess to so interfere with your plans as let myself die on you, Demon.”

Ren’s melodic voice, so beloved and so unchanged, coming from his wrecked body, was almost enough to make Hildebran cry out in joy. Almost. He was grateful for his bird form’s greater control over its body. In his man form he would definitely have cried out. Ren was still Ren – that was such a relief. Years in prison, especially one such as this, filled with druid magic, could have done untold damage to his mind. Hildebran said a silent prayer of thanksgiving to the goddess, and added a prayer for deliverance while he was at it.

“I’m gratified to know that you are so cooperative,” the hooded man mockingly answered. He pulled out a chair and sat down, straddling it like a boy. The posture was at odds with his harsh demeanor; Hildebran wondered if there was more than one man who wore the hood.

“Who would be the bird Metamorph who would be brave enough to come in search of prisoners here – not your father but someone from your clan no doubt. A starling...bold creature.”

Ren laughed.  “Bold? You cannot tell me that the magnificent Sturn has bested you, oh Evil One? Goddess, end my life now if I am to be rescued by that braggart.”

Hildebran was confused. Ren was talking with the hooded man almost as though they were friends. And while Sturn was a braggart, he couldn’t believe that Ren just gave his name out like that to the enemy. Perhaps his long captivity had injured his mind. 

“You could join with us, you know,” the hooded man said, his tone friendly. “There is another sacrifice now so you do not need to be given after all. You were always a second choice. The druid came through. It would be a great benefit to have the bird Metamorphs join with us – think of the power that could be yours! No longer second to your father. You, Ren, would be the Raven Master.”

Hildebran waited with bated breath. Surely his nephew would not fall for such an offer!

Finally Ren laughed hoarsely.  “It is so tempting – instead of taking my blood to draw forth a demon from the pits of hell such as never has been seen before you want me to lend my assistance while you and your druid pals use someone else’s blood to pilfer from hell and then lead it in a bloody war over the three kingdoms.  Do I have the offer right? I wouldn’t want to get confused in my tortured, starved state.”

Instead of being insulted, the hooded man laughed. “The offer sounds even better in your words,” he claimed. “How about if I promise not to kill the little starling that is flying around the tower? It isn’t this Sturn you mention. It is a man named Hildebran–make a difference?”

Ren became still. Hildebran cursed the fact that his name had become known. His sister’s son was like a brother to him, a big brother who protected him from the dangers of a wild world. Though he was the uncle and Ren the nephew, nature made Ren the natural defender though Hildebran was the wiser of the two, and it was he who frequently got his nephew out of the trickier types of trouble that a man can get into for want of thinking. The result was that there was nothing they would not do for each other. When Ren disappeared, Hildebran devoted his life to finding him, and when all others gave up, he never did.

So yes, it did make a difference, and as unlikely as it might seem to anyone else, when Ren heard those words spoken by his captor, the man who had in turns tormented, tortured and teased him for five years to get him to agree to turn traitor, Ren believed him. And it was the first time he truly feared. Because as much as he hated to think of what this man would do to gentle Hildebran if he caught him, even worse was what the other hooded man and his druid would do if they were to get their hands on his Uncle.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Ren said quietly.

“First let me order some food for you,” the hooded man said cheerfully, getting to his feet. “I have some other ‘guests’ to take care of and your little friend to bring to visit you, and then we can talk more. But I am pleased that you are willing to cooperate. It means the difference between life and death for your would-be hero, and such heroes deserve something for their efforts, if only a chance to try again to kill themselves.”

Ren did not respond. The hooded man laughed again but it was a humorless laugh. He left Ren’s cell without another word. Hildebran watched him carefully – he was sure that this man was different from the one who had been so angry as he prowled the tower searching. In fact, he thought now that there might be three hooded men. Or more? An army of them? That thought really made his blood run cold. Though not as cold as the idea that Ren would actually join forces with these devils.

As soon as he sensed that the hooded man was gone and no guard remained near, Hildebran stepped from behind his hiding place. Ren was sitting up, his head in his hands.

“You should be looking sick,” Hildebran observed, trying to be dispassionate. “You just made a deal with the devil.”

Ren looked up, his black eyes as bright as ever. “Hil! You’re in here, dear goddess, that means he doesn’t have you trapped?  How...where....”

Hildebran went over to his nephew and hugged him. He tried to hide his shock at how frail he felt. Normally Ren was the bigger, stronger Metamorph of the two of them. He trembled as Hildebran stroked his tangled black hair and made soothing noises.

“We’ll get you out of here, don’t worry, the King is on his way to put an end to this evil,” Hildebran whispered in tones so soft they were barely breathed, but Ren heard him.

“It may be too late,” Ren said.  He raised his brilliant dark eyes to Hildebran’s soft brown ones. “They are devils, Hil, but they seek to bring even worse upon our Kingdom, far worse. It is too late for your King. He has neglected his throne too long.”

“That is not true, Ren! He enabled me to get here, to find you! He is wonderful! He....”

“He will die when those men get to him, Hil,” Ren said tiredly. “They have planned for years for this time. I was foolish to go against them, you were foolish to look for me, and this King, your King, he is the most foolish of all. They know every step he makes and they are exactly the steps they want him to make. They will win, Hil. Evil always wins. Our people should stay well out of it. Tell me at least that my father was too wise to be caught up in this nonsense. Ran is nobody’s fool. Has he taken the flocks far south for the winter already?”

Hildebran looked at his beloved nephew in dismay. Five years was a long time, especially with such cruel treatment but how could anyone be so changed?  He’d always believed Ren was a hero, as much as the King or any of the Leaders were, as much as the King’s brother upstairs, who risked his life in fighting the hooded man so that Hildebran had time to get away.

Heroes such as that did not give up, did they?

*************

Rumor of the King’s kinsmen’s impending arrival was brought by the birds who were keeping watch in all directions for the approach of friend or foe, at wise Elkind’s suggestion, which Ran had put into effect. Still, rumor was one thing, and as Beren observed, the rumors were flying faster and more plentiful than Ran’s flocks. Most of the more seasoned Metamorphs took it all in with more than a grain of salt, joking, teasing, telling their own stories to top the reports of the bird Metamorphs who were bringing information.

Nic just smiled and kept his own counsel, as did Lycan, though he nodded approvingly when Bran cuffed Chace for making jokes about the King’s Sire now being able to fly.

“You have reason to be thankful that Lord Michael’s magic was skilled enough to draw the blackness from you, stupid cub that you are,” Bran growled. “It is not proper for you to make mockery of his magic now.”

Chace rolled with the blow – Bran’s chastisement was never a light tap. He bowed his head but Jax was quick to apologize and explain.

“We did not mean disrespect to Lycan’s mate or his Sire, Bran! It is just that the stories that spread throughout the ranks, of men riding the wild stallions, who allow no one to touch them, much less go astride, it is the foolishness of others that we laugh at, not Nic’s kin!”

Bran had to agree with that; their pack had often seen the beautiful stallions of the plains when they traveled back and forth from their winter grounds and they could not imagine such wild creatures being tamed. Thus it was that the Metamorphs near the front of the long line that advanced on Candone were brought to a stunned halt by the sight of a dozen beautiful stallions approaching from the West. Without the order being given, everyone stopped. Everyone, that is, except Nic. He gave an excited whoop, and ran ahead, sore muscles forgotten. Lycan shifted to wolf form and ran after him, careful to keep enough behind so as not to frighten the horses.

Father, Colin! You are here!  Nic’s thoughts were joyous. Although it had been less than a week, he felt as though he had been separated from his family for months.

Michael rode ahead to meet Nic.  Colin signaled for the others to slow their ride to give father and son a moment. Conscious of the hordes of watching Metamorphs, however, Michael and Dominic did not engage in a sentimental greeting, even had they wished to do so. Michael’s horse led the two white stallions forward and without seeming to need a second glance, Dominic headed for the one named Ice. He leapt as both galloping white stallions came directly toward him; Colin and Lycan both felt as though their hearts were stopping, but at the last second, Fire turned to the side and Ice made the necessary adjustment in his stride to allow Nic to land safely on his back. Rider and Stallion agreed on the match, and Nic’s joyous laughter could be heard by his followers as he rode up to each of his adopted brothers and sisters, lightly touching them with his hand and mind in greeting.

Lastly, Nic touched minds with Michael and Colin, rejoining them at the front of the line, Lycan in wolf form at his side. 

Ice accepts my bondmate as part of me. Fire is his twin and awaits my twin. Come now and meet my allies. We will proceed for another hour and then rest as needed before making our attack on Candone when dark falls. The advantage will be ours in the dark, though I hope you are not too fatigued.”

Michael answered the unspoken question. I can remedy any fatigue. Your plan is a good one. Colin says we are pressed for time in rescuing your brother and sister. Let us hurry to your camp and then we will discuss plans.

Aloud he said, “Lycan, we thank you for your efforts, and welcome this opportunity to join with the Metamorphs – we have lived too long as separate peoples when we have much to offer each other.” He grinned suddenly as he reached down and ruffled the ruff of the great Wolf. “I would greet you as son but I think brother comes more easily to one so close to my own age.”

Colin swore the wolf looked like he was grinning. He wondered at Michael’s ability to take Nic’s mate’s difference in stride – he was still getting used to the Metamorphs – and as he looked before them at the thousands gathered in Nic’s cause, some in human form and many more in their animal form, he prayed to the goddess that this alliance be blessed.

In far less than the anticipated time – eagerness lending wings to their legs – the allies reached their camp.  Bran led Nic and his family to a separate spot where he could greet his family in private before holding a final meeting with the leaders of the various Metamorph groups. It was his honor to provide for their meal.

“Thank you, Bran,” Nic said, clasping the forearms of the large Beta, deliberately giving him the sign of great respect reserved for Leaders. “You serve your Alpha well. Let me introduce you to my family, those you have not met, especially our Fen, who is the closest my brother and I have to a Beta. We trust Fen in all things, in all ways, he is our reliable second.”

The huge Metamorph looked at the short stocky redhead with respect. He knew enough by now not to judge these Telepaths by appearance. This very ordinary man must be extraordinary indeed, to have earned the trust of such unique and powerful people as these Emorys. He nodded his head in greeting and extended his powerful arm to Fen’s; the smaller man did have a very strong grip, he noted, pleased.

“Well met, friend. May the goddess bless you. Let me know if you are in need of anything.”

“The goddess bless you and yours,” Fen said, returning the nod in his brisk, no-nonsense way, then getting to the point. “Is there a place where I can feed and water the horses?”

Bran grinned.  He liked a man who took care of the animals before feeding himself.  “Right this way.”

After Nick had had the chance to hug and welcome the younger telepaths who had accompanied Michael and Colin and they’d been settled down to rest with the younger members of Lycan’s pack, Nic requested that the Leaders come to the clearing in thirty minutes. First, he needed to talk with his Advisor and Assassin alone. Well, alone with Lycan.

Nic stood before the fire and looked at the two men who had brought him to this point. There were so many things he wanted to say but at this point, the first thing that came to his mind was, “you brought the children? What in the three kingdoms were you thinking of?”

Colin and Michael had such identical looks of surprise on their faces that Lycan laughed. It relieved the tension, and, Colin thought, relaxing, it gave Michael a different target for his temper than his son, who was as much on edge was he as himself.

“You find something funny, Wolfman?” Michael stood and turned toward Lycan. He could see signs of newly healed wounds – he would have to take care of that, after he decided whether he wanted to inflict some new ones of his own.

“Yes, I do,” Lycan said, his grin becoming even wider as Nic and Michael turned identical frowns toward him. “I see this Cub of mine, standing on the brink of war, and it strikes me that it was not that long ago that he was a child himself, playing hide and seek with the Authority’s guards.”

“I was not a child.” Nic balked at the description and Michael drew his brows together.

“Playing hide and seek?” Michael turned to Colin. “Just how much of that mission report did you keep from me?”

Colin looked to Lycan. “Your humor is understandable but perhaps not well chosen in its timing, friend Lycan, although,” and as he turned his attention to Dominic, his voice sharpened, “your point is well made for all that. Nic, the children as you call them are not much younger than you are now, certainly they are older now than you and Rafael were when you first started running missions. They willingly risk their lives to fight not only to rescue Melli and Rafe, but because this fight is their battle too – each of their lives has been changed irrevocably by the Authority.  I too wondered if they were old enough for this battle, but when I saw their courage as the Authority’s ships did their best to sink a ship filled with such brave ‘children’ I believe we do them an injustice to consider them unequal to this challenge.”

Nic met Colin’s look steadily. “Well said, Advisor. But perhaps I would prefer that they not have to go through what Rafe and I did – and did willingly as part of our duty and birthright – if it can be put off. Cena and Cera, Eamon and Donal–do they need to go to war also? Is it not enough that we risk all?”

“But do you, Cub?” Lycan’s words, spoken in his deep thoughtful voice, surprised Nic into silence.  His beautiful eyes revealed his hurt as he swung around and looked his question at his mate.

Michael had been leaning against a tree, silently watching since Nic had raised his first objection but now he spoke. “Lycan again makes a good point. Have you grown so used to being called King that you do not expect to be questioned, Dominic, even by your bondmate?”

Nic flushed. “It was not my idea that I be called King,” he muttered. “And of course I welcome questions! I mean, I am, as always, ready to receive your orders as well as your advice, both yours and Colin’s.  It is just that....”

“What is it, Nic?” Michael looked into his son’s eyes, willing him to voice the fear. Nic chose to rely on telepathy, not wanting to give voice to his fears; Lycan suspected that he thought that to speak them out loud would give them power. He could understand that – he felt much the same when he first led the pack into battle.  He did not need his Cub’s voice in his mind to know what he would say.

I fear for their lives and while they might be willing to go into battle, I would not choose that for them.  Did we not bring them to the island to save them from dying at the Authority’s hands? Not to die for our cause. Do we need the slight advantage they might give....

He stopped, realizing suddenly how wrong his objections were. He turned to his mate, his head down.

“You are right, I am but a Cub. I wish to spare my friends and family when you spare not the youngest members of your pack, nor does Elkind spare men he can ill afford to lose, and the same is true for each Metamorph leader who will be joining us. Ran has lost his son and yet spoke not a word when I sent his mate’s brother who is like a son to him off on a most dangerous mission. I am not worthy to lead.”

“Yes, you are,” Lycan said, “but it is important that you realize that none of us like it when the young ones go to battle – as much as we might relish the chance to fight, or appear to do so.”

“Lycan is right, Nic,” Colin added. “I am not saying that you are not fit to lead, and indeed, I did not agree at first that the others should be brought, though I now see that it is part of destiny’s plan that they play their part.” He smiled at the young man. “One of your most endearing characteristics is how quickly you learn.”

“Which is good,” Michael said dryly, “since the leaders of all of his allies will be joining us in a few moments. Now that we have secured your approval of our actions, Dominic, may we give you our advice for the next twenty-four hours?”

“Yes, sir,” Nic said, moving closer to Lycan. A glance was enough to reassure him that there was no need to apologize or explain further with his mate; Lycan knew his heart and it was always enough. He was so blessed in his mate.

Michael watched his son looking to Lycan for comfort and while part of him felt a pang of loss for the son who always looked to him to solve every problem, the better, bigger part rejoiced that this son was grown to manhood and had a partner who was worthy of him.

Dominic still needs you, though, Colin gently reminded him.

I need both of you, came Dominic’s voice, and I am more grateful than you can ever know for all that both of you did to ready Rafe and me for this time. We will not fail you.

As one, all four, Lycan too having been part of the thought, prayed to the goddess for the safety of Rafael and Melli, and for her blessing on their mission. Colin began to pray aloud, and it was thus that the other leaders found them when Bran brought them to their campfire.

Beren, Elkind and Ran waited respectfully for Colin to finish his prayers. Dominic would address the other leaders privately before he made a final speech to as many of the Metamorphs as he could reach before they began their final march on the city. With Michael and Colin’s help, he hoped to be able to have his voice carry through the ranks to all those who followed him on this quest.

Once the prayers were concluded, the introductions were made. These older leaders were very curious about Michael, of whom there were many rumors and legends, and they had difficulty not staring. Colin offered a pipe to Ran, judging, correctly, that he was the leader of the leaders. Michael held himself aloof, fully aware of their stares but choosing to leave their curiosity as to the type of man he was unanswered. There were important tasks to complete before they marched but he wished to see for himself how committed these leaders were to the cause.

“We welcome this chance to speak with you. To thank you and to answer any questions you might have.”

“And to get a good look at us and see if we are worthy allies, perhaps?” Ran asked, before taking the pipe and passing it on to Elkind.  He pulled out his own herb and offered it to Colin, who shook his head politely. To his surprise, when Ran held the bag toward him, Michael leaned forward and helped himself to a pinch. Ran grinned.

“So you know what to do with that, Dance Master?”

“As well as you do, Raven Master, though I endeavor not to spit where my mate’s robes might brush.” Michael smiled then and won a laugh from the others, all of whom had complained about Ran’s spit fouling their path at one time or another.

“Why do you call Lord Michael Dance Master?” Beren asked as he took an appreciative drag on the pipe Colin handed him – how anyone could like chewing herbs when they were so much better smoked in a good pipe was a mystery to him!

Elkind looked thoughtful. “That is how you knew of the stallions and Faris. You studied with the old Master, did you not?”

Michael nodded, his eyes cautious. This tall gray-eyed man looked vaguely familiar to him and he was still trying to place where he had seen him before. Elkind smiled; his smile was even rarer than Michael’s own but it was no less sweet.

“I was honored to visit the Court of Queen Alicia in my youth. She was a gracious lady of beauty. I remember well when she sent for the Dance Master the first time. She asked my father if he could ask Faris to locate the Dance Master for her as the Master was known to stay in touch with the Horse Master. The Dance Master arrived soon after, riding a magnificent stallion of black, much like the one you rode today.”

Michael was surprised by Elkind’s words. “But if it was your father....”

Elkind smiled again. “It was long before your own time at court, yes. When she again sought the Master of the Dance, she sent word to me, asking if I could locate him for her so that she could bring him back as he had promised long ago.”

Colin wished there was time to ask Michael about the significance of the Elk Master’s reminiscence. He could tell it affected him strongly, but they had already spent more time than they had on the niceties of politics – it was time to review with these leaders how they saw the battle proceeding.

We must get started, he gently urged Michael.

Agreed, was the curt response. Does Nic agree with your leading the talk at this point?

Nic is relieved that you did not refer to him as King Nic and would be pleased if his Advisor would take charge – with the assistance of the wise Assassin, was Nic’s reply. He too had been watching his father closely, curious about Elkind’s comments about the Dance Master. He spoke of it as though it were the equivalent, or greater, than one of the Metamorph Leaders, or indeed, equal to a King. Once again, Nic found himself wondering what secrets his father kept, and what he had given up to keep his brother and him safe on the islands.

A nudge from Lycan told him to keep his thoughts now on the battle plan being laid out by Colin. It was simple yet effective. Nic would lead the frontal attack, with Lycan, Beren and Elkind at his side, along with their best fighters. Michael and Colin would lead teams on either flank, hoping to make an end run around the Authority’s main fighting force to reach the Tower. Nic’s forces would be headed for the Council House itself. Ran would supervise the rear guard, which would keep any reinforcements from entering the city, as well as keep communication open between their separate groups. If they needed more force in one area than another, it would be Ran’s job to direct the Metamorphs to that area.

“How will the young Telepaths be assisting? Will they be in a safe area?” Elkind was concerned especially about the two girls he saw in their group. Tall, slender and blonde, they resembled the women of his own family.

Michael answered this question. “They will be spread among the groups. I’ve discussed with them how they are to help as they each have their particular strengths. Cena and Cera, the two sisters, for example, are very skilled in illusions. They will be able to divert the other side, cause them to see three foes where there is only one, or even no foe where there are three.”

Beren and Ran laughed. They had both seen examples of Nic’s illusions and knew how effective they could be. Against humans such tricks would work even better.

“Perhaps as a precaution,” Elkind persisted, “one of us could be assigned as guardian to each of the young people?  I would dislike to see harm come to them. Besides,” he rushed to say, seeing Michael’s frown, “they are valuable in the battle. It makes sense to keep them guarded, does it not?”

Nic sent a warning to Michael, “There is history there, do not show him your temper, he is not judging you so much as fearful for the girls.”

“You answer then,” Michael said curtly.

“It would be a distraction for one of you to be acting as guardian for the telepaths, and since each of you seasoned fighters are also valuable, we do not want that,” Nic said slowly, thinking his way through this, sensing more than seeing Elkind’s growing unhappiness at this answer. “But what we can do is assign a younger Metamorph to each. Plus they will have their horses, which are superior to any mount the Guards might have. Between these two, we will have to be content as they will be better protected than anyone else.”

Elkind nodded, satisfied.

Michael just spit, sending it arcing into the fire, where it sizzled and sparked.

The others, including Colin and Nic, were speechless for a beat, then turned and looked at Ran. The Raven Master looked surprised, which in itself was surprising, as Ran made it a point never to look surprised. Colin worried that Michael may have cost them this valuable, but touchy, leader’s aid, as a result of his own need to be dominant.

You could stand to learn a lesson in diplomacy from your son, was the irritated thought he sent to his lover. Michael’s response was merely to send calm back at him – he was curious to see what the fabled Raven Master would do.

Before he could do anything though, Beren, whose love for his pipe was legendary, turned to Ran and said, “Had I ever seen you do that with your spit, I might have been tempted away from my pipe. Did you see how it looped around before it landed in the fire? Give me some of that chewing stuff. I want to try.”

Ran smirked. “Not before I do, Bear. And not before the battle is over tomorrow. But I bow to our friend Michael. He is not the stuffy Royal we feared he would be, but a male, when it comes round to the fire. Well met, Michael, Prince, Assassin and Master Dancer. We will follow your Cub into battle and win back the throne – but I for one would like your assurance that you do not want it for yourself.”

Nic felt a moment of shock. Steady, son, this is a test of me and of you. Do not let your confidence waiver. The words in his mind from that same steady voice he had grown up hearing enabled Nic to keep his expression calm, resolute. He remained quiet and appeared still, though he leaned back slightly so that his back touched Lycan’s chest, the solid strength of his mate warming him.

Michael smiled; only Colin and Dominic knew it was not his real smile – Michael was pained by the memory even if he understood why Ran asked that he speak the words aloud. “I abdicated the throne in favor of Dominic when he was but one day old, and my brother Adam then named him heir to the Emory throne of the First Kingdom. He is also, as eldest son of Queen Suzanne of the Second Kingdom, Heir to her throne, to which I have claim as her consort. His brother, Rafael, is his heir to both Kingdoms, with my blessing. Rafael is betrothed to Mellisande, of the House of Dyad, Queen of the Third Kingdom. You were told Nic’s family was held captive; I am not sure you understood that the fate of the Royal Houses was at stake in this battle.”

The four leaders bowed their heads for a moment out of respect, but as usual, it was Ran who spoke first with a question, though he prefaced it more politely than he usually would.

“May the goddess bless our efforts and bring the Queen and her Betrothed, your son, back to you safely. It would be good for all our peoples to have the Royals back – but – if the worst happens, the Royal Houses will survive, won’t they? You have King Nic here for the two Kingdoms and is not Lord Colin also a Dyad?”

“You would think he was a magpie and not a raven,” Elkind muttered under his breath.

Lycan laughed. “Let me answer this, Sire of my Mate,” Lycan begged, his wolfish grin very much in evidence since Michael was looking at Colin as though he wanted permission to roast Ran over the fire. “Ran, perhaps it is different among bird Metamorphs, but Royals...and Wolf Metamorphs...require a male and a female bonding to produce offspring. Since Dominic is bonded to me and Lord Colin is bonded to Lord Michael....”

Ran’s face managed to turn a bright red despite his dark features. He sputtered, “Well if the fate of the Royals is at stake, arrangements can be made....”

“And they would,” Colin interjected smoothly. “But we do not wish to entertain such thoughts now. We hope, and pray, that Queen Mellisande and Lord Rafael will both be rescued.”

“No other result is acceptable,” Nic said in a hard voice.

“Does that mean you want the men who guard the city slaughtered?”

Beren raised the question casually but it fell like a rock into a pond. Colin and Michael knew what answer they felt Nic should give but this was an answer they felt he had to reach for himself so they kept silent, even in their minds. Lycan too preserved a neutral countenance. Nic looked from face to face and saw that none of them were revealing what they thought.

I am being tested yet again, he thought. So, what did he think was the right answer? More importantly, what was his real answer, without regard for whether it would be considered the right answer by his audience. He spoke slowly as he gave it.

“As Royal, it is my duty to rule over the three peoples of the Kingdoms, Telepath, Metamorph, and human. It is a strange state of affairs, because arguably, the greatest power belongs to those who number the least, and those who number the most have the least in the way of gifts from the goddess. The humans, both Guards and some townspeople, have been immeasurably cruel to both our peoples, yet I believe they have done so out of fear and ignorance. Some behavior may even be due to evil influences they had no control over, much as Lycan’s pack member Chace was controlled by evil that had invaded his spirit. Where these factors are true, and where we are so much stronger, I believe we should try to overcome them without using killing force. I would not want to see humans wiped out from the Kingdoms. That would be as wrong, and as displeasing to the goddess, I would think, as what they have tried to do to us.”

The Metamorph leaders were quiet after Nic finished. Michael and Colin held their breath – they had hoped that Nic would take this position but feared that it might cost them their allies. Colin stole a glance at Lycan; he was as inscrutable as the others.

It was Elkind, surprisingly, who broke the silence.  The gentle Leader was angry. “You know what they did to us, to our loved ones. Do you know what they did to your mother and King Adam? How can you want mercy for such butchers?”

Dominic met his angry gaze. “Because I am not a butcher and I will not lead an army of butchers. If that is what you seek...I am not the leader you want. I want to bring us to a better age, an age of equality. Not an age where we enslave the humans, those we do not kill.”

“A human skin above the fireplace would not add beauty to any room,” Beren agreed, winning a choked laugh out of Colin. “I do not have the stomach for slaughter; it puts me off my food to murder as they do. I approve your words, King Dominic, and find them wise. You are to be leader over all people in the Kingdom, and I suspect there are many humans who have been treated cruelly during this time that the Authority has held sway over all.”

“I agree,” Ran said, and he sent his spit sailing into the fire this time. It sizzled, not as brightly as Michael’s had but it was a big improvement over his sending it too near one of his companions and the sparks added a nice emphasis to his words, Nic thought, hiding his smile. He suspected Ran would be practicing his spitting when there was time. He turned to the Elk Master.

“Elkind, I know that your people suffered greatly and you most gravely. Does that make you wish to....?”

Lycan squeezed Nic’s shoulder and he stopped speaking. Just in time as the gray-eyed Metamorph raised stricken eyes to him.

“Do you think I would sink to that barbaric level? To rape their women and then flay their hairless flesh from their bodies?”

Colin flinched and Michael moved closer to him so he could hold him. He had seen such atrocities by Authority Guards during his missions; he’d hoped his sons never had. He deemed it time for him to step in – his reputation as Assassin needed no proving.

“Dominic is not suggesting anyone is as barbaric as the Guards have been – quite the opposite,” Michael said in his cool, measured voice that commanded attention. Nic admired it and resolved to copy it next time he had to speak in such a tense situation. Michael continued, his green-eyed gaze taking in each leader and seeming to take each one’s measure. His message seemed to be, he was done with their testing of the Emorys, now they were being tested as to whether they were worthy allies.

“Humans will be killed – Dominic accepts that. But what he wants you to carry back to your people is that all have been victims to the evil that has filled our lands. Parents have turned their children onto the streets at the hint of the otherness that is telepathy, knowing they will have to starve or sell themselves to survive. Men who want nothing but to till the land find themselves conscripted into the Guards and handed guns – and they are told to shoot the very Metamorphs they have traded with amicably for years. And they do it – or their farms are lost to their families.”

Nic was surprised that his father knew so much about the lives of the men on the mainland. Once again, it struck him that his father should be King, not him. Lycan tightened his arms around him.

Your Sire knows his Destiny. Do not question his decision, or your Destiny.  That he is the Dance Master, it makes sense now.

What do you mean?

Later, was all his Wolf would say.

Elkind looked pacified. “You understand then?”

Michael looked at the Elk Master with compassion. “As do you. We have seen our loved ones harmed in ways that should never be done by one man to another – and it makes me proud that my son will be a just and noble leader who will not let the cruelty that lies in his past make him a cruel and vengeful King. If we hold on to every grudge that ever we held, I would forever fear Metamorphs because a large Mountain Cat Metamorph once scratched me badly when I was but a child and would have stolen my life, my mother believed, had my brother Ben not frightened it away.”

Colin and Nic both had trouble hiding their surprise at this story, which they had never heard before. Lycan, on the other hand had more trouble hiding his reaction, for it was disbelief. Some of it seeped through to Nic. Fortunately the other leaders did not react the same way and agreement was restored – the Metamorphs would fight as forcefully as needed but would not seek to slaughter unnecessarily and would not plunder, torture or rape under any circumstances.

Once the meeting broke up and Nic settled down into Lycan’s arms for what rest he could find in the short time before they were to march on Candone, Nic asked Lycan to explain the echo of skepticism he had felt.

Surely you do not believe my father lied about a Metamorph attacking him.

It is not your Sire I disbelieve, it is the ...explanation ...a young child may have been given for an attack he suffered. How much older was this Ben to your Sire?

Nic thought. Ben was twelve years older than Michael, Adam eighteen years older. I was told that each of them had a different mother, which was why there was such a great gap between them, although Michael and Adam’s mothers were close kin, which is why they looked so much more similar than Ben did to either of them. He looked more like King Jayson, my grandfather’s older brother, who died shortly after he became King.

Lycan was quiet and Nic wondered if he had been able to catch all the nuances of that last speech.  But just as he was about to try repeating his thoughts in easier language, Lycan responded.

No matter how skilled your Uncle Ben might have been as a boy, if he could vanquish a mountain cat Metamorph strong and bold enough to make it into the Royal residence undetected – no, I cannot see it happening. You saw how I struggled with a Cat Metamorph. They are a wily, strong people. If the Cat had wished, your Sire would have been dead before his brother moved a single muscle to defend or attack. Their speed is far superior to the Wolf’s and it is only our greater strength that gives us a chance with them.

Their growing bond was enabling Lycan to “speak” with him as easily as his family, Nic noted absently as he took in the import of his mate’s thoughts. How did Ben save Michael from a mountain cat if he could not have overpowered it? Was it some magic of his father’s at work that Michael was not aware of? This bore more thought – again, when there was time. Again, Nic found himself wishing for his brother, who was so much better at reasoning out the solutions to such puzzles.

He sent out, as he had been almost constantly over the past week, a plea and a prayer, for Rafe.

Brother, answer me. Are you safe? Goddess protect you and Melli. Guide me to you and preserve you until I get there, I pray.

Nic! Nic, listen to me.

Nic sat upright, pulling free of Lycan’s arms. His telepathic cry of joy brought Michael and Colin’s awareness to him instantly; Lycan’s was already with him.

There is not much time now. The hooded men plan to sacrifice Melli to summon a great demon hell hound – greater than any ever seen. I do not know if we could defeat it if they succeed.

To his credit, Rafe was reporting calmly of the effects of their enemy’s plans, and not dwelling, as Colin wanted to do, on the fate planned for Melli.

I have a plan, too risky to tell you. But you must hurry...in case I fail. Dawn is when they intend to act.

Did my messenger reach you? Nic felt he had to ask, for Ran’s sake. Rafe’s answer relieved him of one worry, though it created a new one.

Yes, we were able to speak with him.  It helped to know you were so close, brother. And it gave me the idea for this method to circumvent the room’s traps, which prevent communication. He escaped our captors but is trapped somewhere in this tower. Also, there is another bird Metamorph, one who has been here for years. Benra says he is called Ren. Our captors try to turn him to their cause. Warn his people. He has been ill-treated but has held out against all they have done. He is strong beyond measure. We will try to aid him if there is any way possible.

Nic felt Lycan’s pleasure at that news and he shared it, quickly letting Colin and Michael know who Ren was.

Five years missing! Colin’s thoughts were racing. This news is significant, boys! The battle against the Metamorphs has gone on for years but we did not suspect that our enemy was actively trying to recruit them as allies against this day when we would make our move.

In between skinning us, you mean?

That was Lycan’s voice. It was new to Colin and the deep growl of it took a moment to get used to. Nic took advantage of the silence to make a promise to his twin.

Be as safe as you can, brother.  Give Melli a kiss for me. I will raise the Metamorphs now and we will begin the final march. Your need – and word of Hildebran’s success and Ren’s survival – will lend wings to all our feet. Look for us three hours before the dawn.

The next moment had no words to it, only feelings, but the warm rush of love was so strong it made even Lycan’s eyes sting with the unusual feeling of tears. The tears ran freely down Colin’s face and Nic was hard pressed to keep his tears from falling. But Michael did not cry. He focused on sending his strength and love to his captive son.

We will get to you in time, son. Give our love to Mellisande. Where is she?

Ten feet below me, aiding in the conjuring of a ladder. Benra is....

Michael exploded. Benra! Tell me you do not trust that devil!

It will be fine, Michael. There are reasons.

No! You must not forfeit your lives out of misguided trust!

Rafe was silent. Colin tried to calm Michael, who was angrier than he had ever felt him. With a great effort, Dominic managed to force his voice over his father’s, silencing Michael for a brief moment. That was all he needed.

I trust you, brother.  So do our Assassin and Advisor, even if the Fathers have doubts. Stay alive, we will be there soon. Kiss Melli for me.

And for me, Lycan added, causing a reluctant laugh that broke the tension.  Colin had soothed Michael in time that he added his love before the connection ended.

Dominic walked to the fire and with his magic sent the flames soaring skyward.  Michael joined him.

“How do you plan to get started?” Michael quietly inquired.

“I’m not sure,” Dominic confessed. “There are so many to reach and I expect them to be justifiably upset at this new change in plans. They ran hard; they were counting on this rest, short as it is.”

Lycan said, “The packs will follow the leaders without question. It is the way of our kind. We do not question our leaders as much as your kind does.” He did not comment on the constant bickering and second guessing that seemed to go on between his mate and his kinsfolk. “But I believe your Sire is the one who can provide the answer to this problem for you.”

Before Nic could ask what he meant, Michael was next to them at the fire.

“Yes, Lycan is right. Let me wake the troops,” Michael said, pulling his tunic off and stripping his breeches off as well. He stood in the firelight clad only in the brief piece of cloth that covered his loins.

“You will dance them awake, sir?”  Nic tried to hide his doubt.

Lycan grinned. Knowing that his mate’s Sire was the Dance Master put a new face on matters – it amused Michael that his own sons did not know the many legends that even Metamorphs knew about that mythic figure.

“Leave it to your Sire, Cub. He would not suggest it if it were not something he knew he could do.” To Michael, Lycan asked, “What can I do to aid you, Sire?”

“Build the fire higher – on something more than my sons’s mana.”

With that, Michael disappeared into the night. Colin came to stand next to Dominic. They hugged briefly as Lycan worked on building the fire up to a tremendous size.

Do you know what he is going to do? Nic asked Colin. He was glad Michael had Lycan building the fire – he felt cold knowing that Rafe and Melli were with Benra and counting on him in some way. He needed his own fire built back.

That was what Michael intended to do–for an entire army.

The moon’s bright light illuminated the silhouette of the Dance Master as he cast his dance spells on the gathered Metamorphs and Telepaths. As he danced, feelings of strength and well-being, courage and invincibility filled the awakening people.

It was not just a feeling, Colin and Dominic realized as they felt the magic spinning around them, settling on them, strengthening them. It felt as though an armor of love’s power enveloped them. Within minutes of Michael’s dance ending, Fen was at their side, the others behind him.

He placed a small loaf of warm bread in Nic’s hand and a meat pie in Lycan’s. 

“We’re ready, Nic.”

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