Page 27 of Ties of Frost

“Not any order that answers to your pathetic god.” The panther swiped with all four paws and twisted beneath me, trying to throw me aside. Long claws scraped against my armor. I drew back my sword, but too late.

The panther’s thrashing had caused its throat to shove against my blade.

Its claws retracted, and then its oversized paws fell heavily. I stumbled to my feet. Blood dripped from my weapon. The panthera twitched. As it choked out a last breath and its magic died along with it, its form morphed and shrank until I stood over a man with dark-brown skin and curly hair. Blood from his neck stained the edge of his chainmail.

My shoulders slumped. I turned to see how Kyrundar fared and found him standing beside a kneeling, pale young woman with brown hair. Her orange eyes flashed over a gag of ice, and ice bound her arms to her sides. I could deal with the wolvus in a moment.

Turning back to the dead panthera, I adjusted my sword so I held it in my right fist with the point down, then held my fist in front of my heart. I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and said, “Iskyr have mercy upon this man’s soul, and upon me for having brought death to one of your people.” In Vethalric, I added, “May the honor with which you lived your life be the honor with which youare welcomed into the next, brother.”

Sorrow pressed upon me. If our brief interaction was any indication, this distant shifter cousin had not lived a life of honor. But even the outcast wyveri would follow thousands of years of shifter tradition that called for honor and respect among tribes, including in battle and victory. It would be to my shame to return his dishonor with equal dishonor.

I used a cloth from my hip bag to clean my blade and then marched over to Kyrundar and the wolvus woman. Before I said a word, the ice gag dissipated.

She snarled, her canines flashing in the bright morning sun. “You pretend to have honor, rengir, but we know the truth—how you oppress us, keeping secret knowledge and power for yourselves!”

I blinked and looked to Kyrundar. He shrugged, his wide eyes reflecting equal bewilderment.

“Who is ‘we’?”

The wolvus tilted up her chin. “No torture can make me tell you anything. And I have failed to complete my mission and kill you. You might as well kill me.”

“Why are you trying to kill me?”

“And is Zidra your target and I’m collateral damage?” Kyrundar asked. By his tone, I wasn’t sure if he was offended or curious.

A novel idea occurred to me, and I willingly sought the heartbond. An impression of anger snapped across the bond—but it didn’t seem to be wounded pride. He was furious that…someone would try to harm me? I slammed the door on the bond.

“Eilmaris was our target, but now that Kyrmaris is working together on this, you’re both on the league’s list.”

My ears perked up. “League? What league? Working together on…Magistrate Nevros’s death? This league killed him?”

The wolvus’s eyes glowed golden, and she strained against the magical ice binding her, then threw herself to the side. The ice cracked but did not break.

Kyrundar rolled his eyes and added more ice. “You already tried to shift, lady. You aren’t winning this one.”

She growled in response. This was getting us nowhere. We didn’t have time to wait for her to decide to talk, and rengiri did not stoop to torture.

“Can you bring her with us to Ravensburgh?” I asked. “We can turn her over to the local authorities to interrogate and punish her.”

“I won’t tell your corrupted officials anything, either!” The wolvus growled. Gray fur spread over her face, neck, and hands. The ice groaned and cracked.

“Certainly.” Kyrundar’s face pinched. A sheen of sweat showed on his forehead, and glittering ice crystals fell from his fingertips. “Although we’ll need to knock her unconscious first.”

I sighed and drew my sword, holding the pommel down. Somehow, the woman rolled aside, snarling. Some instinct raised the hair on my arms. I ducked and turned my face away. “Kyr, watch out!”

Before I finished speaking, echoing pops and cracks of breaking ice sounded, and then ice chunks pelted my back.I waited only a moment before spinning around, sword at the ready.

Back in her di’yar, she lunged for me, her attention focused on my throat. I stumbled back and swung. Just as my sword sliced into the gigantic wolf’s chest, an ice spear pierced her side.

The wolvus collapsed and shrank back to her true form. By the time I crouched at her side, the life had left her. Wearily, I stood and, once again, said the rengir and shifter blessings. This time, Kyrundar joined me in asking Iskyr for mercy for the wolvus and his own soul.

After I wiped and sheathed my sword, I turned to Kyrundar. “Maybe—you’re bleeding!” I strode over to him and turned his chin to get a closer look at the blood drying on the side of his neck, just above the edge of his leather breastplate and pauldron.

“It’s not bad—”

“Why didn’t I feel it?” I frowned as I gently rubbed away flakes of dried blood with my thumb. Kyrundar stiffened, so I stopped. “Sorry. I didn’t feel that, either.”

“That didn’t hurt.” He cleared his throat and took a step back. “Why would you feel it?”

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