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  He wanted to protest. He would have if every healing wound and aching muscle in his body hadn’t been making itself known. The amount of rockweed necessary to keep him from shifting for this long, and under these conditions, took a toll on a shifter’s body. That trail bar must have been filled with the stuff. He shuddered to think what might have happened if he’d eaten the whole thing. As it was, his body was fighting a constant battle, trying to do what was natural to it, while the herb continued to deny it.

  He stood up and walked over to where they’d spread out the sleeping bag. He lowered himself carefully, stretching out on his side, his watchful gaze never leaving her trim form as she threaded through the trees. While he might be weaker than his normal self, he wasn’t too weak to defend her if it came down to it.

  Amanda walked through the dark trees to the small stream, her penlight providing just enough illumination to light her way over the uneven ground. She knelt by the water to rinse the canteen a couple of times, then filled and capped it for morning. Setting it to one side, she leaned down enough to splash her face and hands, wishing she had even a small sliver of soap.

  She froze at the sound of movement across the water, then lifted her head slowly and found two pairs of bright green eyes glowing at her, one slightly higher than the other. Gyr-wolves. Not exactly friendly, not necessarily a threat to her either. They would have smelled the cooking meat and been drawn to the fire, where Rhodry’s presence had kept them from coming any closer. There were very few creatures on Harp that didn’t fear a shifter. And rightly so.

  A slight yipping noise erupted from further back, and she saw two of the eyes disappear as one of the animals swung around to check out the disturbance. The other continued to regard her steadily, and Amanda understood. This was a mated pair, with their pups nearby. As long as she stayed on her side of the stream, they’d leave her alone. Especially with a shifter sleeping back at the campsite.

  She met the wolf’s stare, never turning away, until the second pair of eyes reappeared briefly, followed by both wolves moving away from the stream, probably taking their pups to a safer location. She picked up the canteen, then stood and made her slow way back.

  Rhodry lay on his side, golden eyes following her return to the campsite. He scooted over when she knelt down, making the necessary room for her in the narrow sleeping bag. There was no real reason for them to sleep together anymore. It wasn’t that cold, and she’d be just as warm wrapping herself in the cloak by the fire and letting him have the bag to himself. Besides, he’d probably welcome the room now that he was feeling better. His eyes followed her as she banked the fire to a bare ember and picked up her cloak. He shivered slightly.

  “Are you cold?” she said instantly. She crawled over and touched his forehead. It was warm beneath her fingers, no more than the usual shifter heat, though.

  He lifted the top of the sleeping bag, clearly expecting her to join him. She sighed and crawled inside, feeling the warmth of his body against her back as they settled into what was by now a familiar comfort.

  “Gyrs?” he asked softly once she was stretched out next to him.

  “Yes. A pair with new pups.”

  “It’s that time of year.”

  Amanda nodded wordlessly, then yawned. “It’s handy having you around. I’d have been awake half the night waiting for them to raid my camp.”

  “So glad to be useful.”

  She chuckled, feeling him relax into sleep as she closed her eyes, and knowing she’d sleep through the night undisturbed, just because he was there.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Amanda had never seen the Verge before, at least not this close. From space, it looked completely barren—a wasteland of dirt where nothing grew, and where house-sized boulders lay tossed on one another like a giant’s discarded baubles. Up close…

  She swore softly. The boulders were there, and the dirt. What she couldn’t have seen from four hundred miles up were the small stones littering every inch of ground between her and the distant edge of the Green. Millions of stones piled one on top of the other. It was going to be pure hell to walk across that. And, gods, she was tired of this.

  Standing on the edge of yet another obstacle in their journey home, Amanda truly appreciated for perhaps the first time just how far out her Guild escort had dropped her. Maybe Nando and the others actually had wanted her dead. And what did that say about Fionn? Had he known what they planned? She knew he didn’t want her in the Guild. Would he have agreed to risk her life to prevent it?

  Or maybe it was Rhodry she shouldn’t trust. Maybe he’d known about Nando’s plan, and gotten Fionn kicked off her escort because he knew Fionn wouldn’t go along with it. She shook her head immediately. She trusted him. Especially after these past days struggling together to survive. As gruff as he’d been, as stubborn about her joining the Guild, and convinced she’d never make it, he’d always been upfront about it, and he’d always insisted that she have a level playing field, even when he’d been sure she would fail. Besides, if Rhodry had wanted her dead, she’d be hycat food by now.

  She turned her back to the Verge and watched as he caught up with her. He was moving slowly today, and she could see what it cost him. No matter how much of the rest of his story was true, someone had definitely wanted him dead.

  “You knew it was like this,” she accused him when he was within earshot. “All of these fucking stones.”

  He shrugged.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “You wouldn’t have believed me. Deep down, you don’t think there’s anything you can’t overcome. It’s admirable. It also means you don’t really trust anyone other than yourself.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “You don’t know anything about me,” she muttered irritably, unwilling to admit he might be right. Of course, he was right about the Verge, she’d never have believed him. She’d have dismissed his warnings, confident she could handle it. Was he also right about her not trusting anyone? She sighed and turned back to study the shadows cast by the giant boulders in the afternoon sun.

  “We won’t make it across in a day, will we?” she asked.

  Rhodry shook his head slightly. “We’ll get a good start, though, and camp in there overnight.” His gaze wandered over the landscape. “There are caves in some of the larger rock formations. But after a storm like this last one, it’ll be cold, though. Those big rocks hold onto the chill.”

  She shook the empty sled she’d been dragging most of the day. “We seem to have plenty of kindling,” she said morosely.

  He smiled gently. “Tomorrow night we’ll be under the trees and back in the Green.”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  He sighed. “I’m just as eager as you are to get there. So,” he gestured ahead, “shall we conquer the Verge?”

  Amanda drew a deep breath and started forward. Conquer, hell. She’d be happy just to make it across with both ankles intact.

  As they made their way carefully onto the boulder-strewn field, weaving around the petrified remnants of ancient trees, she considered what she knew about the Verge. It had been created millennia ago, when the retreating glacier had shuffled back and forth over the same mile or so of latitude for a few thousand years before resuming its northward retreat to what was now the permanent ice cap. What it left behind was about a mile of dead zone between the Green and the greater glacial area.

  Like everywhere else on Harp, the Verge wasn’t completely dead. There were all sorts of rodents and reptiles living there. And for tonight, it would be home to a couple of humans as well.

  The sun was sinking and the air was already noticeably colder when Rhodry led her around a pile of huge stones that were crushed up against one another in a permanent battle for space. Together they formed a sort of horseshoe formation. At the closed end, jagged-edged boulders had fallen together in an imperfect fit to create a small cave, which faced away from the glacier, and so was protected from the coldest winds. Amanda tugged
her flashlight from around her neck and walked toward the dark hole, to find that Rhodry was already there.

  “Let me—” he began.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, dodging quickly around him. She pulled out her knife, in case they weren’t the only animals looking for a likely shelter, and dropped down to crawl through the low entrance. Once inside, she was able to stand almost upright, flashing her light over the uneven ceiling, the walls, and finally the ground. There was a desiccated Gilly bear skeleton in the very back of the cave. That skeleton, combined with the plentiful spoor scattered around, told her the Gilly had been the cave’s last tenant, not some other creature’s lunch. The bear had died peacefully in its own bed. Of course, it might also have been severely injured somewhere else and crawled home to die, which, call her a cynic, she thought was far more likely.

  She emerged from the cave to find Rhodry already dismantling the sled. He straightened and gave her a knowing smile. Of course. His nose had probably already told him everything she’d crawled in there to discover.

  “Yeah, yeah, fine. We can’t all have your nose.” She sighed and gave the rapidly disappearing sled a fond pat, which elicited a cough of laughter from him. “It worked well enough,” she said defensively.

  “Aye,” he admitted. “It did.”

  Surprised by his admission, she gave him a fond pat as well, and began scrounging around for dead brush to use as a broom. Finding what she wanted, she swept the small space out, starting at the back and moving forward. When she got to the opening, she stepped out and gave Rhodry a gentle shove, indicating he should move out of the way so she could sweep the remnants out into the clear space between the stones.

  “What’re you doing?” he asked.

  “Sweeping the house out. Women’s work. You should be glad.”

  “I would be if I thought it would last.”

  “I could sweep it all back in,” she threatened, holding her makeshift broom in the air.

  “Did I mention what a great job you’re doing?” he said with mock sincerity. “Truly. Can’t think what I’d do without you.”

  She snorted. “I can.” She brushed the unpleasant stuff well away from the “front door” of the cave and helped him finish off the sled, using her knife to weaken the long branches, breaking them into small pieces, which were then tossed into the cave for firewood. Their few supplies went next, and then she straightened, stretching her back as she looked around. “I am well and truly sick of rabbit. Any other suggestions?”

  “Should be a diamondback lurking somewhere in these rocks.” He drew in a deep breath, his head thrown back, eyes closed. When he opened them, he started off, and Amanda stepped in front of him.

  “Just give me the direction. You should rest.”

  He drew up to his full height and scowled down his nose at her. It didn’t faze her at all. “You did a lot of walking today,” she said softly, moving in close. “And you’ll need your strength.” His eyes opened wide as her hand grazed up his thigh. He grinned and started to reach for her, then howled in outrage when she pressed her fingers directly into the still tender knife wound in his groin.

  “Damn it, woman! What kind of healer are you?”

  “No kind at all,” she said smugly. “Now go inside and rest while I find us a snake for dinner.”

  “You could have just asked,” he grumbled, crawling through the narrow opening and groaning loudly for effect as he spread out the sleeping bag and lay down on it.

  She laughed, then turned away with a grimace. She’d never admit that she thoroughly detested hunting snake. Especially in the rocks like this. She didn’t mind eating them. The snakes on Harp had a layer of fat that made them perfect for cooking over a campfire, and they could be roasted right in their skins. They were also sneaky, slithering creatures and a royal pain in the ass to catch.

  There were times she wished she’d been born one of those helpless women who could sit back and wait for the menfolk to take care of everything. She sighed. This was definitely one of those times.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “So how long will it take to cross the rest of this thing?” Amanda asked, referring to the Verge. She reached out and pulled a leg off the diamondback now sizzling over the fire. The joint came away easily, the meat tender and juicy. For all that she hated hunting the damn things, they sure were tasty.

  “I told you, we’ll sleep in the Green tomorrow,” Rhodry said, wiping his hands on one of the strips of cloth they’d saved from the sled ties.

  “And then maybe a week to the city,” she mused out loud. “Assuming no more surprises.” The fire popped and spat in the silence as grease dripped from the skewered snake, the light splashing orange against the dark stone walls and crawling toward the shadowed roof of the cave.

  He paused briefly in the middle of cutting away a hunk of meat with one of her knives, and said casually, “You probably have some questions before then.”

  Finally. What she said was, “I would like to know why Serna’s trying to kill you, and why Kane Daly went along with it. I know Kane. As shifters go, he’s pretty easygoing.”

  Rhodry finished chewing, glancing at her before wiping his hands one more time and then leaning back against the rock wall behind him. “My grandfather was Brian de Mendoza.”

  Amanda nodded. “Brian de Mendoza tried to assassinate Cathal Martyn, and take the throne of Harp by force,” she recited dutifully, scowling at his look of surprise. “I did a lot of reading over the winter. A society’s history can tell a lot about its present, and its future. And I intend to be on Harp for a long time.”

  He raised an eyebrow at that, then continued. “I’m Brian’s heir, his only direct shifter descendant in point of fact. I have plenty of shifter cousins on my father’s side, the Devlins. For the de Mendozas, I’m it.”

  Suddenly Amanda understood. “And since the Ardrigh must also be a shifter, you’re the only one who can carry on Brian’s grudge against the Martyn regency.”

  Rhodry gave a sharp nod. “Not that I have any interest in doing so. Brian was a miserable, bitter old man who never pretended to have affection for any of us. His only son died long before I was born. He had four daughters. My mother being the only one who married a shifter, she was also the only one who could, and did, produce a shifter grandson for Brian.

  “My father, Ennis Devlin, died in an accident when I was six years old, and my grandfather’s only response was to demand that my mother and I leave the home she’d built with my father and come live with him as a proper de Mendoza. He was ambivalent about my two sisters, they could come or not. What he wanted was the raising of his only grandson. He considered me flawed, since I was a shifter by Devlin blood, rather than a true de Mendoza. Which only made him all the more determined to mold me into a proper heir, beginning with living in his house, under his thumb.

  “My mother refused. Instead, she packed up all of us and moved in with my father’s family. And I can never thank her enough for doing that. It can’t have been easy for her to defy her own father, and yet that’s what she did. And she did it for me, so that I wouldn’t have to grow up with that hate-filled old man.”

  He threw the rest of the meat he’d cut off into the fire. “I’ve no interest in my grandfather’s dream for the throne. No interest in anything to do with Harp politics, other than serving as the de Mendoza clan chief. Cristobal Martyn summoned me to serve in his guard, and I’ll do my time. After that, I intend to return to my family and my clan, and do my best to forget the city even exists. Unfortunately, there are those who don’t want to believe that.”

  “They think you’ve inherited your grandfather’s ambitions.”

  “That’s a big part of it. I’m here right now because of clan politics which followed me from the mountains and found common cause with my enemies in the city. Two separate factions who would normally work against each other united in their singular distrust of me.”

  “So Desmond Serna wants all the de Mendoza goodies.
What does Kane want?”

  He shrugged. “Hell if I know. I barely know the man. I assume he’s one of those who think they’re doing the Ardrigh a favor by getting rid of me. There are more than a few.” He blew out a long breath and ran a hand over his face tiredly. “I’m sorry you were dragged into this. It seems a poor payment for saving my life.”

  Amanda brushed that away. “Will they come after you again?”

  “They’ve no reason to think I’m still alive. Not yet anyway. The question is will anyone come looking for you and find me?”

  “Why would anyone look for me?” she asked. “The only ones with reason to think I’m in danger are the ones who put me out here.”

  He regarded her silently, his catlike eyes eerily intent in the firelight. “What about Fionn? He might get suspicious if you’re gone too long.”

  She considered sadly. “Maybe not if he knew they were going to drop me way the hell out on the glacier.”

  His lips tightened into a thin line. “In all fairness, I doubt Fionn knew. He cares about you.”

  “Fionn cares about his own pride. I wouldn’t have thought he’d want me to get hurt. I know, however, that he doesn’t want me to pass this trial, and he’s angry I defied him. He thinks I should confine myself to more womanly pursuits; the two of you should get along great.”

  “I don’t—”

  She held up a hand to forestall his protest. “You didn’t want me in the Guild either, Rhodry. You made that perfectly clear.”

  He grinned crookedly. “That was before you saved my prideful, ignorant male hide. Besides,” he continued casually, “Fionn will no doubt change his mind once you return successfully. He’d love to lay claim to the first female Guild member.”

  “I’m not some sort of prize for claiming. And if I was, Fionn wouldn’t be in the running. He likes his women more submissive than I’ll ever be.”

  “He’s a fool then. Though I’ll not be the one to point out the error of his ways.” He stretched back with a very satisfied smile.