Page 36 of Deadly Maiden

I’m tempted to apologize for my resistance to that haircut, but it’s too late. We both made mistakes.

“So, I guess this means I’m famous?”

Rorsyd chuckles. “A joke when we’re still facing them?” He nods toward the north.

I shrug then writhe my eyebrows through a frown. Time is ticking. “We need to do something.” They might arrive at any moment, though I’m sure Anathema will warn me.

“They’re going to attack if we ride past, or they will follow us and then attack later. I could just kill them. It would take some effort.” He studies me. “What do you say?”

He’s askingme? I appreciate him asking but…

He can kill ten people, so easily? The ones who died when he exploded into that first shift will forever be nightmare fodder.

I don’t want to be caught or killed. I squeeze shut my eyes, open them.

“Is there any other way than mass murder?”

“There is.”

“Will it work? I do want to live.” This is taking too long.

“I can but try. I’m going to…” He stands, rolls his head about on his neck, flexes his shoulder muscles—all that makes me do some of that gawping. “Going to try shifting. If I can.”

Theifin that is concerning. “But you’re not going to kill them?” In dragon form it would surely be even easier.

“No. Not if we can get away.”

“Good. I don’t wish them dead, no matter that they are larcenous and of low morals.”

That makes him snort. “Of low morals. Truth there.” A pause then, “Are you okay?”

I’m tense and probably red of face, and I’ve started trembling, but I am okay. I am not dead. I nod. Those fae will be on us soon.

“I need space to do this. The road. If I succeed, we fly out.”

“If? We?”

He studies me. “I’ll pick you up in my claws. I have not shifted, successfully, for twenty years. I’m not counting what happened near Bollingham.”

My mouth is open.

“I think I hear them coming.” He pushes aside low branches and walks out onto the road.

This will expose us.

Anathema throws me a warning, his greater darkness flitting across the tree shadows. How will he come with us? The cloak has a pocket, and I flounce it outward and stare at where he must be.

Rorsyd stands in the middle of the road and stomps his feet, stares at the dirt. Dust rises. I sprint over, close enough to say something.

“Not the claws. Please? Can I ride…on top?” On top of you is what I almost said, but that would possibly sound obscene.

His eyes look ready to pop, but he says nothing. What did I do? Is that actually rude?

“Get back. Stand there.” He points. “Let’s see if I can shift first. After this, I will worry about the claws or letting you ride me.”

I retreat and wait. The noises mentioned grow louder. I recognize the cracking of twigs, the swish of leaves on clothes, being a recent expert on forest sneaking.

Hurry up and shift!I move my weight from left foot to right foot, nervously scanning the trees on the opposite side. Anathema slips into my pocket, and I suck in a long, deep breath and hold it as Rorsyd’s body shimmers and blurs the air.

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