Page 18 of Tamhas

Special like a Blood Moon Priestess?

It’s all a coincidence. I’d repeated this to myself roughly once every minute since my phone call with Alan ended. What if the mark on her neck was merely another tattoo? What if it was a mere birthmark?

What if she just happened to be a tremendously skilled fighter and, evidently, an excellent tracker whose neck bore the mark of an ancient order of witches?

I knew how ridiculous that was.

It didn’t stop me from hoping as I walked down the long tunnel which led to our compound. All I had was hope.

“Where have you been?” Ainsley demanded as she ran toward me down the tunnel from where she’d likely been waiting. Her brother might have told her to do so.

“You look like you took the fight well,” I observed, resenting the motherly tone of her voice.

Her eyes narrowed as she cringed—slightly, but noticeable to my skilled gaze. We’d known each other far too long.

“You’ve heard about that, then.” She fell into step beside me—silly to think she’d back off after a vague insult.

“An impressive fighter, then?”

“Born to it,” she muttered. “I’m still a little sore, but the gash she delivered to my jaw was the real surprise.”

“That would certainly make it appear as though she’s different,” I admitted as we drew closer to the hub of activity. More like a hive, with members buzzing this way and that. All of them wondering who she was and what her coming foretold.

“Wait.” She put a hand on my arm, holding me back for a moment. “You can tell me. You know you can. Who is she? Why does she know you?”

I slid my arm from her grip. “I don’t know who she is, any more than you do.”

“You’re lying. She knew your name.”

I shook my head, resuming my journey. “That doesn’t mean I know who she is.”

Ainsley followed but didn’t ask further questions. Did this mean she understood the futility of pressing me? Would that the rest of them would recognize it so easily.

Her twin brother, for one, who waited for me outside the control room with murder in his eyes. To his credit, he remained still, but he fairly vibrated with tense, dark energy. The flare of his nostrils betrayed his otherwise calm façade.

All conversation ceased as the two of us looked at each other. The staring was enough to make me want to crawl out of my skin. We’d been together for so long, all of us. At times, I’d felt certain we could read each other’s thoughts—that we were thinking the same thoughts as one, even.

They were thinking the same thoughts then. That I was a traitor. That I had put them all in danger. That we might be under attack again, so soon after coming home.

At least the threat had come from outside the clan before. This one, I had brought on their heads.

And they wanted answers.

None more than Alan, of course. “What is this all about?”

“Have you spoken to her again?” I asked, pointedly ignoring the resentful stares coming at me from all sides.

It seemed everyone but the four dragons patrolling the skies was out there in the corridor, watching and listening.

“Nay, we got nowhere with her. I wanted to wait until you returned.”

“Good. I want to see her.” I wanted many things. I wanted to be left alone with her. I wanted to escape the resentment and accusations of my clansmen.

My dragon wanted things, too. He could smell the strong, sharp distrust of the other dragons. He sensed the danger around us. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as he warned me to be cautious in this very tenuous time.

“Who is she?” Alan asked.

“You know as much as I do now.”

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