The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) (75 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses)
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Now Bella and Marco threw their arms around Lyrie again and Ariane rushed over to join the communal embrace. Kirra jerked her head toward the door and Cammon followed her out, closing the door behind them. When she extended her hand, he dropped the little lion charm into her palm. It was as if she had been in giddy motion that abruptly stopped. She waited till she adjusted to the heavy sensation of ordinary existence, then hid the charm in her pocket.
 
“What now?” Cammon asked.
 
“We pack. We leave tomorrow at dawn.”
 
CHAPTER
38
 
A
S expected, the four of them made excellent time on the road to Ghosenhall. Theirs was a compact, efficient group that easily navigated all kinds of terrain, from the forest of northern Rappengrass to the plains of central Helven. It was so much simpler when they didn’t have to worry about coaches, axles, or lodging to accommodate more than fifty people every night.
 
Indeed, after the first night, they didn’t bother with commercial lodging at all. At the end of that first day’s ride out from Rappen Manor, they had all been pleased to find two rooms to rent over a small tavern perched by itself at a crossroads. The food had been passable and the beds comfortable enough, and none of them had any reason to complain.
 
But Kirra found herself lying wakeful, staring at the dark shape of the shuttered window, thinking even darker thoughts. The last time she had slept in a roadside inn, she had crept from her bed and changed herself into a bird and gone seeking the room of Romar Brendyn. She had lain with her heart against his heart, his cheek against her cheek, hearing him whisper her name so often that it came to sound as natural as his breathing. She wanted him to be here, this night, so she could search him out. She knew that she would never again be able to stay at any kind of inn without wondering where Romar’s room was and how quickly she could get to it. He was inextricably mixed up with her expectations of travel; he would accompany her on any journey she took for the rest of her life.
 
The next night, she insisted they camp out.
 
And every night after that.
 
Only Melly really complained, and even her sighs were halfhearted. Justin, of course, was always happy to prove he didn’t require material comforts, and Cammon never cared where he was as long as he was with people he liked. So they made sure they found reasonable campsites each night before sunset, and they gathered fuel because Senneth wasn’t there to provide sorcerous heat and light, and they cooked the game Justin usually managed to catch at some point during the day. If they weren’t too tired, they played cards for a while or fell into idle conversation. Justin cleaned his weapons every night while Melly mended various items of Casserah’s clothing. Cammon and Kirra were left with most of the cleanup. Everyone seemed content with the arrangement.
 
On their fourth day out of Rappengrass, Justin returned empty-handed from a noontime foray out to find food. “No luck,” he said in a grouchy voice. “We’ll have to eat dried rations tonight.”
 
“We’re only a day from Ghosenhall. I don’t think we’ll starve,” Kirra said.
 
“I saw some wild berries back a little ways,” Melly said. “If you want to wait awhile, I’ll go pick some.”
 
“I’ll help,” Cammon offered.
 
Justin was watching Kirra. “I want to hunt,” he said.
 
She shrugged. “Fine. I’ll sit here with the horses while you all go traipsing off.”
 
“No,” he said. “I want to hunt in animal shape.”
 
Cammon’s head swung around sharply; Melly’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh,” Kirra said. She thought about it. “Any preference?”
 
Justin was grinning. “Whatever’s comfortable for you.”
 
Kirra was grinning, too—no, she was laughing. Melly was horrified, but Cammon looked intrigued, and Kirra knew, she
knew
, that if Senneth or Tayse were here, this little game would not proceed for another second. Magic should not be played with. Kirra had gambled with Lyrie’s life because the stakes were so high. But there were so many reasons it was a bad idea to practice her shape-shifting skills on Justin, here off the main road somewhere in the sparsely wooded northern stretch of Helven, for no reason except that each of them thought it would be fun. Cammon wouldn’t stop them—it wouldn’t occur to him he should try. Melly might offer a protest, but she would never dream of gainsaying a serramarra.
 
And Kirra had never been one to walk away from deviltry.
 
“Let’s make it easy on both of us,” she said. “You’ve already been shaped like a dog, so we both know that works. Let’s try that.”
 
“
Serra,
” Melly breathed.
 
“It’s all right, Melly. Don’t worry,” Kirra said. “We’ve done this before.”
 
“Do you want my help?” Cammon asked.
 
“I think—let’s see if I can do it by myself. Here, I’ll put the lioness on the ground, right by you, but don’t touch it unless it looks like I’m having trouble.”
 
“Say, if I’m half-dog and half-man,” Justin said.
 
“Though I might like you better that way,” Kirra said.
 
Melly turned around, a hand over her eyes. “I can’t watch.”
 
“You really don’t see much,” Cammon said in a comforting voice. “It’s not disgusting or anything.” Melly strangled a sound that could have been a snort.
 
“Get down,” Kirra said, kneeling. Justin dropped to a crouch beside her, balancing himself with one set of fingers against the ground. She placed her hands on either side of his face. “Watch me.”
 
His eyes fixed unwaveringly on her face; he was serious now. She took a deep breath and held it, searching for reserves of magic in her body. This was hard, harder than she’d expected without the boost of Cammon’s power. She felt the silent spell gouge a heavy track through her chest. Her ribs contracted from effort. But there was Justin, now a sandy-haired dog, floppy-eared and disreputable, springing to his feet and barking in a mad frenzy of excitement.
 
“By the Pale Lady’s silver tears,” Melly breathed. She’d whirled back around and was staring at the apparition. Who, truth to tell, was behaving more like a street mongrel than a dire act of sorcery, growling low in his throat and then throwing himself at Cammon’s chest. Cammon laughed, and the two of them fell to the ground, wrestling. “That’s—that’s
Justin
?”
 
“And wasn’t I right? Isn’t he better like this?”
 
“I can’t believe the goddess doesn’t strike us all with lightning.”
 
“Well, this is the third time I’ve done this, and so far she doesn’t seem too interested,” said Kirra cheerfully. “We’re going to go hunting for a while. Tie up the horses and go get those berries. We’ll be back in an hour or so.”
 
A minute later, Kirra had slipped into the shape of her favorite retriever, more elegant than Justin but just as playful. She nipped him on the shoulder and darted into the woods that lined the side of the road. He tore after her, plumed tail stretched behind him, mouth stretched in a canine grin.
 
She wasn’t sure they’d actually catch any game, but the afternoon promised to be enjoyable.
 
They chased each other through the undergrowth for the next half hour, rousting out plenty of grouse and rabbits but not reacting quickly enough to overtake any of them. Every once in a while Justin gave up on hunting altogether and just stood in some tangle of weed and bramble, barking because he liked the sound of it. At one point he wandered off, following some scent that didn’t interest Kirra, and she settled back on her hind legs, yawning hugely. If he was gone for any length of time, she just might flop to the ground, right in a pile of dead leaves, and take a short nap. The sunshine and the exercise were wearing her out.
 
Without warning, Justin jumped her from behind, pouncing on her with all four feet and taking her neck between his jaws in a mock grip. She yelped and rolled to her back, dislodging him, then sprang for his throat. He was too quick for her, though—Rider reflexes, even in dog shape. He darted aside and circled her, waiting for an opening, his mouth wide in a panting grin, wholly unmoved by her low growl of warning. She leapt at him, biting his flank, then kept running. Within five paces, he’d caught up and knocked her to the ground.
 
If she’d been human, she would have been laughing so hard she wouldn’t have been able to keep to her feet. She felt light and joyous, irresponsible and carefree, as she always had when playing with Donnal. They would chase each other across the woods, into the water, through the air, changing shapes, changing sizes. Now
that
would serve Justin right—she could transform herself to a lioness, or a bear, and he would not be able to counter. Unlike Donnal, he would have to stay as she made him, respond only to her call, rely entirely upon her magic—
 
She was human again so abruptly that Justin yapped and backed off. She hadn’t even meant to change. She hadn’t realized her body planned to take another shape. That of a woman, sitting on the ground, sobbing into her hands.
 
She would never play through the woods with Donnal again, never see his dark face, recognize it no matter what form he took. Never hear his voice. He was gone.
 
Justin had crawled forward again, belly low to the ground, tail down, whining. His cold nose nudged her hand, and, when she pulled away, lifted to burrow against her neck. She turned her face aside, but his pink tongue lapped across her cheek; he lifted one wiry paw and scraped at her shoulder. Unmistakable dog language for
what’s wrong with my person?
She kept her face averted and he grew more insistent, back legs on the ground, both his paws on her shoulders. He barked once, right in her ear, and it startled her so much she almost started laughing. He licked her face again, this time catching the corner of her mouth. She knew he could taste the tears on her cheeks. He barked again.
 
“All
right
,” she said, turning to look at him and grabbing his scruffy face between her hands. “I’m all
right.
Don’t worry. I’ll turn you back into Justin. In a minute. Just—give me a minute.”
 
He settled back but kept his gaze intent on her face. She dropped one hand to her lap, kept the other on his head, scratching between his ears. She was almost moved to pour her heart out, to talk to him as she had always talked to Donnal when he followed her in animal shape—but this was Justin; this was neither Donnal nor one of her father’s hounds, not nearly as safe to confide in. So she said nothing. She just looked away and waited for the tears to stop.
 
Apparently Justin decided that might take a while. He folded himself down to the ground right beside her and rested his head on her thigh. Giving a mighty sigh, he yawned and closed his eyes. She kept her fingers in his fur, absently stroking his head. They stayed that way until she heard Cammon’s voice, lifted to call their names.
 
 
 
AT the end of that journey, Ghosenhall seemed like some mythical city of grace and refinement, so beautiful and so long-sought that it could not possibly be real.
 
“We’ve found paradise,” Kirra said as, tired, hungry and a little dirty, they finally rode through the great gates of the royal city.
 
“Maybe not paradise,” Justin said, “but it’s home.”
 
“Not for me,” Melly said with a sigh. “Home’s another long journey away.”
 
The Rider glanced at Kirra. “How soon will you be leaving for Danalustrous?”
 
“Not sure. The dinner’s tomorrow night, if I’ve reckoned correctly, which means there’s probably a semi-formal function tonight. You know, for all the people who’ve arrived a day early. I imagine I’ll stay a day or two after the main event.”
As long as Romar is here.
“But Melly’s right. It’s time to be getting back to Danan Hall.”
 
“Make sure you say good-bye,” Cammon said.
 
“Where are you going tonight?” Justin asked him. “Off to your mystic friends? You could stay a night or two at the barracks. Hear all the gossip.”
 
Cammon nodded. “Sure. That’ll be fun.”
 
“I wonder when Senneth and the others got here,” Kirra said. “I bet we’re only a day or two behind them.”
 
Justin grinned. “Maybe we beat them.”
 
But at the gates to the palace itself, they were informed that the royal caravan had arrived two days ago, everyone safe but weary. Kirra had been expecting the usual inquisition she had endured every other time she had tried to enter the palace grounds, but the presence of a Rider at her side made for a whole different experience. The guards had merely called Justin by name and waved the rest of them through. Kirra had had to rein back on her horse to ask for information about the princess’s party.

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