Then Vae charged the empty space within the Sceltie triangle and hit something with a blast of Purple Dusk power.
A sight shield broke, revealing an unknown Warlord.
Ranon froze for just a moment as he remembered the day the Scelties arrived in Eyota and how one of them had located Archerr by scent, despite the Warlord Prince being sight shielded.
They had known he was there. He’d slipped past us, but they had . . .
That was when he saw the rest, and a cold rage burned through him as he strode down the street.
The bastard had a hand around Khollie’s neck, holding the dog off the ground that way. Not by the scruff, by the neck.
The Scelties looked at him and hesitated a moment, then resumed their attack, hitting the defensive shields the stranger threw around himself.
At first Ranon wondered why Vae and the others were throwing themselves against the stranger’s shields.
That tactic was draining the Scelties’ power as well as the Warlord’s, and Ranon thought it a waste of their strength until he realized the brilliance of their fight. The dumb, two-legged sheep was caught in a snapping triangle, unable to run away—and too harried to notice the enraged Warlord Princes closing in on him.
As he moved toward the fight, Ranon’s eyes flicked from one side of the street to the other. Kharr and Wynne had the children and elders well shielded. Shaddo and Archerr were coming up the street to flank the bastard. Vae, Darcy, and Lizzie continued their relentless attack, wearing down the Warlord’s power and shields.
And Khollie . . .
Khollie hung limp and unmoving in the bastard’s grasp.
Ranon called in his fighting knife and used Craft to create a flash of light on the blade, deliberately forcing the Warlord’s attention on himself now.
“Let him go,” Ranon snarled.
The Warlord shifted his arm to use Khollie’s hanging body as a shield. “You’ve got plenty of them.” He sounding desperate. “We only want one. We’ll take this one. He’s already damaged.”
“How dare you?” Ranon’s voice sounded barely human. “Let my little brother go!”
No way for the man to catch the Winds from this part of the street. No way for the Warlord to get away, not with the three Scelties keeping him pinned. No chance of the bastard winning a fight, not with three Warlord Princes standing on this killing field ready to rip him apart.
Then Darkmist charged up the street, heading straight for the Warlord.
Perfect. If Darkmist hit the Warlord in the back, that would be the distraction Ranon needed to strike without endangering Khollie.
*Vae,* Ranon said. *As soon as I break that bastard’s shields, you grab Khollie and run.*
*We will catch Khollie,* she replied, continuing to keep the Warlord in position for the best strike.
He kept his eyes on the stranger, but he could feel Darkmist and knew the moment he needed to unleash a punch of Opal power and break the man’s shields so the dog could strike.
A second after the shields broke, Darkmist leaped . . . and missed. The man’s open coat flapped as the dog sailed past.
An odd look flashed over the Warlord’s face as he staggered a step and dropped Khollie. At the same time, Vae leaped, grabbed one of Khollie’s front legs, and kept going, running on air and pulling Khollie with her as Darcy and Lizzie scattered.
Then Ranon noticed the blood on Darkmist’s muzzle. Saw the thing in Darkmist’s jaws beat once, twice.
And once more before those jaws closed on a still-beating heart.
Darkmist whirled to face the Warlord. Ranon felt the punch of furious Opal power—and saw the man’s head puff for a moment before he fell to the ground.
The dog hadn’t missed. Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. The dog hadn’t missed. He’d passed through the man’s body and snatched the heart right out of the man’s chest.
The thought of the skill and training it took to do something like that knocked Ranon back from the killing edge.
Vanishing the knife, he rushed over to the spot where Vae guarded Khollie. He dropped to his knees and reached for the little dog—and snatched his hand back in time to keep from losing a finger as Mist, still riding the killing edge, dropped the heart and snapped at him.
“Let me help him, Mist,” Ranon said. “He’s your brother, but he’s my friend. Step back now. Step back.”
There were sounds all around him now, people all around now, but the only thing that mattered was the other Opal-Jeweled Warlord Prince.
Mist took a step back. His eyes were still glazed and he still growled. Probably wasn’t even aware of it.
Watching Mist, Ranon placed a hand on Khollie. “Khollie?” He felt the dog’s heart beat, felt the lungs rise and fall with each breath. “Khollie?” He began a careful exploration, hesitating when he got to the neck.
Was it damaged?
The dark eyes, usually filled with joy, were closed.
“Hell’s fire, Ranon,” Shaddo said, approaching carefully since there were two Opal Warlord Princes whose tempers were unpredictable right now. “Is he all right?”
“I don’t know.” Ranon stripped off his shirt and wrapped Khollie in it before he stood up and looked around. “I need to get him to Shira, but I . . . we . . . walked over.”
“Prince Ranon, here.” Guard Jaego hurried up with his horse.
Ranon took a step, then looked at Shaddo and Archerr.
“We’ll find a place to store the carrion until Talon rises and can get a look at the bastard,” Archerr said.
“Go on,” Shaddo said. “We’ll take care of things here.”
Freed of any duties beyond the dog in his arms, Ranon mounted Jaego’s horse and galloped back to the Queen’s Residence with Darkmist racing after him.
One of the Scelties must have alerted the silver twins because Lloyd was waiting for him when he reached the Residence. He dismounted and tossed a rein to the Sceltie, who led the horse to the stables.
“Shira!” Ranon roared as he entered the house. Sweet Darkness, let her be here. He took Khollie into the parlor the court used and laid the dog on the sofa.
“Hell’s fire, Ranon,” Shira said, rushing into the room. “What are you—” Seeing Khollie, she shoved him aside so hard she knocked him on his ass.
He snarled at her, still too furious and too close to the killing edge to tolerate the shove, even from her.
“Prince Ranon, attend.”
Cassidy’s voice. Strong. Demanding. A leash that held his fury.
Breathing hard, he rose and walked out of the parlor.
“Report,” Cassidy said, then held up a hand and led him to the meeting room.
Powell came into the room, followed by Spere, Burne, and Cayle. A moment later, Gray, dirt-streaked and panting, rushed into the room.
“Report, Ranon,” Cassidy said.
He told them everything from the moment he had left Khollie at Elders’ Park for story time to the moment he had wrapped the Sceltie in his shirt and ridden back to the Residence to get help.
Almost everything. Watching Cassidy’s increasingly pale face, he couldn’t tell her how Darkmist had killed the bastard, couldn’t tell her about seeing the still-beating heart in the dog’s jaws.
“Hell’s fire,” Spere said when Ranon stopped talking. “I’m not going to wonder why the fool thought he could get away with it, but why did he do it in the first place?”
*He belongs to the other Queen.* Vae stood in the doorway. Ranon couldn’t tell if she quivered with anger or fear. *I remember her smells. She is on his clothes.*
Cassidy swayed. Gray wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Kermilla did this?” Cassidy asked.
*Her smells are on him.* Vae left the room.
“Did you recognize him, Ranon?” Burne asked.
Ranon shook his head.
Cassidy swallowed hard. “If he belongs to her First Circle, I could identify—”
“No,” Ranon said. After Darkmist unleashed that punch of Opal power, the man’s head had looked wrong.
Until he figured out why it looked wrong, he wasn’t letting Cassidy near the body. Wasn’t letting Shira near it either.
“Archerr and Shaddo are going to find a place to store the body until Talon rises,” Ranon said. “As Master of the Guard, this falls to him now, Lady.”
“Ranon is correct,” Powell said. “And as Talon’s second-in-command, the decisions of what to do with the enemy are Ranon’s to make, Lady, not yours.”
Maybe she would have argued, but just then Shira appeared in the doorway, hugging herself.
“I don’t know,” Shira said, coming into the room. “He’s alive. His heart is beating and he’s breathing. His neck may be bruised, but I have no sense of anything broken. But he’s not there. I can’t wake him up, not with healing Craft or the Hourglass’s Craft. Vae says . . .” Her voice broke, and Ranon watched her pull on all the strength inside her to continue. “Vae says sometimes humans try to force kindred to live with them.
It’s almost impossible to control the cats once they start growing up because they’re wild and so big. The wolves, like the cats, are too wild, and the horses, unicorns, and dragons are big. But Scelties are small, so sometimes humans try to take them. And s-sometimes a Sceltie goes away to a place deep inside himself, where humans can’t find him. Where humans can’t follow.”
“What happens then?” Cassidy asked.
Tears filled Shira’s eyes. “He either comes back . . . or he dies.”
“What can we do?” Ranon’s voice was rough. “Shira, what can we do?”
She shook her head. “We wait. Vae and Darkmist said to leave him wrapped in your shirt because it has your smells. They think that’s a good thing for him right now.”
She walked out of the room.
*Ranon?* Archerr called softly.
*Yeah?*
*We didn’t know where else to put it, so we brought the body to the Healing House.* Archerr hesitated.
*Keep Shira away from here. Shaddo and I have had a closer look at what Darkmist did to this bastard and
. . . Keep Shira away from here. Cassidy too.*
*Can you put a shield around the Healing House to keep everyone out?*
*I can. I have, in fact. I’d rather not be inside with . . . that . . . more than I have to.*
“Why would Kermilla do that?” Cassidy asked. “Why?”
“Come on, Cassie,” Gray said gently. “Come away now.”
Ranon watched Gray lead Cassie out of the room.
*Ranon?* Janos called.
Mother Night. *Where are you? Are you okay?*
*We’re fine. Reyhana and I got back from a ride and . . . Could you tell Kief to let us go? He’s got us trapped in a stall, and he says we can’t leave until you say it’s safe.*
On another day, that would have been funny. *We’ve had some trouble, Prince Janos. Khollie’s been hurt.*
*How bad?*
*Don’t know yet. Here are my orders for you and Kief: Both of you escort Reyhana back to the Residence.
I want all three of you shielded, you hear me?*
*Yes, sir. I hear you.*
And he heard the Warlord Prince in his brother’s voice.
“I’ll be in my office if you need me.” Powell touched his arm—a gesture full of understanding—before following Cassidy and Gray out of the room.
“Burne and I will head over to Main Street and see what needs to be done,” Spere said.
Ranon nodded. “Jaego was on the street and probably already alerted Rogir, but pull in everyone you can to ride circuits. Make sure the landen community is put on alert, too. I don’t know what kind of game that bitch was trying to play, but we’re not giving her a second chance at it.”
“I’ll do that,” Cayle said.
“And you, Ranon?” Spere asked.
“Shaddo, Archerr, and I will hold the Queen’s square. Once Talon rises . . .”
Hours yet. It would be hours yet. And all any of them could do was wait.
Talon pressed two fingers against the deceased Warlord’s head, then took a step back, shuddering.
Felt like pebbles in a bag of mush. It would have been less disturbing if the head had exploded from the blast of power. They’d all done that on a killing field at one time or other. But having the ability to explode bone and brains and still leave the skin intact indicated a frightening level of skill in the use of Craft and power.
More than frightening since that level of skill belonged to a dog who wore Birthright Opal and was still growing into his full strength.
“Have you seen anything like this, Talon?” Archerr asked.
The First Circle—and Gray—had gathered at the Healing House to look at this corpse. Talon scanned their faces. Wasn’t one of them who wasn’t sickly pale. Not that he blamed them for that. He was demon-dead, and even he was finding it hard to be in this room.
“No, I haven’t,” Talon replied. “Passing flesh through flesh is dangerous to the point of stupidity. Healers do it, sinking their hands into a person to heal injuries inside the body, but that’s a controlled, steady movement, and they spend years training to do it so they don’t lose parts of themselves within the other flesh.”
“This was fast,” Ranon said, his voice oddly hushed. “So damn fast. I thought he missed. Until I saw the blood on Darkmist’s muzzle and the heart, I thought he missed the bastard.”
“Shaddo and I were behind this one,” Archerr said, tipping his head to indicate the corpse. “Damned queer feeling, seeing the dog disappear like that. We weren’t even sure what we’d seen.”
“No hesitation,” Shaddo said. “The Scelties. Before we had time to figure out something was wrong, they’d decided who among them was fighting and who was defending. Fast. Hell’s fire, they were fast.”
“Wasn’t just the Scelties on the street either,” Spere said. “Duffy knew. He told Moore there was an attack in the village, then left Moore to defend the people working in the landen community while he went out for the shepherds and livestock. And Keely herded every child in the Queen’s square who was playing outside into the nearest house.”
Talon listened to them all. Strong men. Good men. And every one of them, himself included, hadn’t really understood what lived inside those small furry bodies. Despite being around Vae, they really hadn’t understood that these dogs were Blood who had been given exceptional training in Craft—and in fighting.
Once things calmed down, he was going to find out exactly what the Scelties could do.