"Mace, this is Lissa," Weldon brought me forward.

"I can't smell her, but she's not a werewolf. I'd know."

"No, not a werewolf," I shook my head.

"Lissa's here to make an offer," Weldon said. "But first you have to tell her why you'd like to live anywhere but here."

"I can show you easier," he said and cursed softly. Weldon and I followed him. Other werewolves were stepping warily from more log homes, some coming our way, others standing and watching. I figured they recognized Weldon but not me and they were wary.

"Here. The most recent that were killed by our King's royal hunt. They know we go out on the full moon. We've moved so many times I can no longer recall where we've lived. The king and his court, well, they enjoy their sport, you see."

I was looking at graves. Six of them.

"But how are they hunting you?" I asked. Werewolves were tough and nasty when they turned.

"ReaveHounds," Weldon muttered. "Three or four werewolves might be able to take one down. Maybe. They stand around six feet at the shoulder. You might be able to take them down, Lissa, but these here can't. The King's law protects humanoids, but on the days a werewolf becomes a wolf, they can be hunted. The king takes pleasure in it. Usually the ones killed are the younger ones and the females."

"Fuck," I whispered. "How many of you? How quickly can you gather? When is the next full moon?"

"We're all together now and the full moon is tonight. I figure the king and his hunters are not far away—they plan this ahead of time, you know. The ReaveHounds track us," Mace explained.

"Then let's go. Weldon, is there anything they might need on a regular basis that they can't supply for themselves? What about the game here, is it plentiful? And domesticated animals?"

"Well, let's see—they might need tools and food staples. They can raise domestic animals, but they've had to sell the animals they had—they can't move them as easily. Game is plentiful, that's how they feed themselves."

"Then we'll leave a little surprise for a king who likes to kill his subjects, one day a month," I said and raised my arms.

* * *

"Where are we?" Mace turned completely around. I'd moved everything—houses, woodsheds, woodpiles, even the graves. I'd also cleaned out two-thirds of the game animals and half the king's domesticated herds. Barrels of nails, stacks of boards and logs, hides to be scraped and tanned, a blacksmith's shop and many other things had found their way to Harifa Edus.

"This is Harifa Edus," I said. "It's yours, now. You have six moons, one of which will be full tonight. I will bring other werewolves when I can and perhaps Weldon will visit and bring supplies for you."

"I will, starting tomorrow," Weldon promised. "I'll bring seeds, farming equipment and other things you might need."

"How did you do this?" Mace was slowly joined by his neighbors. I figured I was looking at two hundred werewolves, total. Only a few children and females peered at me from the crowd and silently I cursed a king who chose to hunt and kill them.

A frightened deer bounded past us, causing all of us to all jerk our heads up. The animal was confused at its new surroundings, just as the werewolves were.

"Remind me to go looking for abandoned worlds that still have wildlife," I told Weldon. "I'll see about moving them over."

"I'll help and so will Martin, Mack, Daniel and David. They'll want a hand in this." Weldon named off the werewolf members of the Saa Thalarr as he looked around him, more than satisfied with what he saw. "In fact, they may want to come tonight. It'll be the first hunt on Harifa Edus in a long, long, time."

"This world belonged to the werewolves, once," I said to Mace and the others gathered around us. "It is yours again. I decree it."

"How did you do this?" Mace repeated his question.

"Lissa is Queen of the Dark Realm, my friend," Weldon grinned and slapped Mace on the back.

"Either Weldon or I will return, to check on you and to bring others. Good luck." Weldon and I folded away.

"Little girl, where are you going now? Home, I hope?" Weldon asked when I dropped him off at his picnic table.

"I have other things to do," I told him vaguely.

"Those twins of yours are about to have a meltdown," he shouted after me as I disappeared.

* * *

"Weldon saw Lissa today." Merrill interrupted dinner at Lissa's palace to pass on the news.

"And what was she doing?" Gavin was angry that she'd go to someone else and not come home.

"Worrying over the werewolf planet," Merrill sighed. "And moving a Pack of two hundred persecuted werewolves to Harifa Edus to repopulate the planet."

"Is she there, now?" Drake and Drew said at the same moment.

"No, she took Weldon home after they moved werewolves from Marrik. He asked her if she were going home. She said she had other things to do."

"She knows Roff doesn't remember her." Griffin folded in and sat down at the table. Griffin lowered his eyes at the admission.

"How's Amara?" Merrill asked.

"Five months pregnant and happy," Griffin was given a plate full of food by the comesula waiter. "And Lissa hasn't been wasting her time. She moved some of the humanoids from Beliphar—the Ra'Ak-enhanced creatures are taking over, there. They intended to turn the entire population and then send them out using the aging fleet of starships still left on the planet. She picked up the decent ones that were left, took them to Kifirin and then destroyed the starships. If those creatures find a way off the planet, it'll have to be through other means."

"We could help her," Gavin grumbled.

"That may be true, but we have to wait this out, I think."

* * *

"Where did they go? It's as if they disappeared completely." The King of Marrik sat his horse, talking to his master of the hounds and one of his knights. The ground where the primitive log structures stood was now bare. They couldn't have moved buildings such as those; there hadn't been enough time.

"Your Wizard warned you," another knight rode up beside the king and reined in his horse. "He said that you should stop hunting these creatures; that they were your subjects, same as any other."

"Is that why you came to me, tonight? To remind me of my Wizard's words?"

"No, I came to tell you that your Wizard has disappeared. Everything from his chambers is gone as well. Except this message that he left for you." The knight handed over the message, neatly rolled up and tied with a string.

"Justice is coming?" The king read the note aloud. "That is quite amusing, Warde. Take yourself back to the palace and track my Wizard. I'll determine his punishment when I return." Warde turned his horse and urged him into a run out of the clearing.

"They have to be here somewhere; this is a trick," the king stood in his stirrups and gazed about again.

* * *

"It's not a trick." I'd been listening to the schmuck for several minutes, now. I materialized right in front of his horse, allowing my shield to drop. The horse smelled the vampire about me and shied backward, his eyes rolling. The ReaveHounds, too, were backing away. They knew better than the king, who wrestled with his horse.

"You know where they are? Tell me or I'll have you killed," he threatened.

"You know, threatening me probably isn't the wisest thing you've ever done," I said calmly. This guy was a sadistic shithead, who liked killing female and young werewolves. He, his courtiers and knights skinned them and took the pelts. The whole thing sickened me. He knew they would turn back to humanoid after the full moon. He knew.

"You have one last chance to tell me what you know, or you die."

"So, killing female and young werewolves isn't enough for you? You'll go after anybody?" I asked.

"You are disobeying your king. That is a death sentence."

"But you're not my king," I pointed out.

"You stand upon the soil of my kingdom," he snapped.

"Okay, you have me there," I said and levitated myself six inches off the ground.

"Kill her, she is a sorceress," the king shouted. A spear was thrown, and then another. I turned myself to mist and both weapons sailed right through, landing in the dirt behind me.

"Nice try, but you shouldn't do that again," I said after rematerializing.

"Kill her!" The king was now so angry that spittle flew from his mouth. That's always so attractive. Five more spears were thrown. I misted again and this time I didn't wait. Horses reared as heads were lopped off. The ReaveHounds, which were abominations created by dark spells, well, they died, too. There wasn't a thing left alive inside that clearing when I was done—the horses had all run away. I shook blood off my claws afterward and got a good look at my clothing. It was a bloody mess.

"He who lives by the sword, dies by the claw," I toed the king's body—his head was about two yards away. Marrik would have to find a new king. Well, couldn't be any worse than the old one. I folded away.

* * *

"Hello, Grandfather. I'm sorry I look such a mess." Wylend Arden, King of Karathia, was sitting in front of a fire in his bedchamber, looking over accounts. He looked as young as I did. Or Griffin, for that matter. At least he and Griffin looked to be related. I favored my mother's side of the family.

"Granddaughter, where have you been?" Wylend was out of his chair and staring curiously at my bloodied clothing.

"It's not mine—the blood, that is," I waved off his concern. "Do you know someone named Gart?"

"Yes. A Rogue Warlock and high on my wanted list, is our Gart. Why do you ask?"

"Because he transported twelve thousand Ra'Ak-enhanced humanoids to Beliphar. They've pretty much taken over, now."