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  “Your captor?” Grandy See-er suggested, her faded blue eyes sparkling. “The male who stole you away from your home world and left you stuck in a shuttle while he went to do male-talk?”

  When she put it that way, Emily couldn’t help but agree.

  “Well, yes,” she said. “But he’s helping me now. I mean, he brought me here to see someone who could help me with my…my condition.”

  “What condition, little Mistress? Ah, wait—don’t tell me…” Those silvery eyebrows arched once more and her nostrils flared. Emily reflected that she hadn’t noticed what a long, hooked nose the old lady had back when she was seeing her through the shuttle window. “You be in heat!” she exclaimed triumphantly, poking a long, crooked finger at Emily. “Isn’t that so?”

  “Well…kind of, I guess.” Emily was beginning to feel uncomfortable. This really wasn’t something she wanted to be discussing with a stranger, no matter how kind and sweet she seemed.

  “Not just any heat either—you be a Khalla—one of the rare females that embodies the Goddess herself!” She sniffed again. “And you be in Scintil—soon to enter Vlammen if you don’t do something to stop it—and that right quick!”

  Emily stared at her. “How do you know all that? How do you know all the, uh, terminology? I thought this was a strictly Beast Kindred thing and we’re not anywhere near Rageron.”

  “Ah, but your male’s friend be not the only expert that the Khalla come to see to help them in their Tenrah.” The old lady nodded sagely.

  “But I thought only one or two were born in a generation.”

  “Is that what your male told you?” The old lady frowned. “Then he must not know much about the Wulven. Many Beast Kindred come to bond Wulven females and so more Khalla are born here.” She pointed at herself. “That’s why Grandy See-er knows more than most anyone about stopping the flow of the nectar and reversing the Shift.”

  “Excuse me, what?” Emily felt a surge of hopeful excitement. “What did you say? Did you say you could reverse it?”

  “Well, certainly I can, little Mistress! With the proper tools and treatments, of course—I don’t have them with me, though.” Grandy See-er pointed into the forest. “They’re in my humble little hovel, a few steps from here—just beyond those trees. Would you like to come and see?”

  “Oh, uh…” Emily bit her lip uncertainly. “I really shouldn’t…I mean, Tragar told me to stay in the shuttle…”

  “You’ll be safe enough with me.” The old woman patted her arm comfortingly. “Nobody bothers Grandy See-er. I’m like a second great-mother to the whole town.”

  The moment she said it, Emily could see how it must be true. Probably all the little children adored the sweet, kind old lady and all the mothers in town called on her for advice. She was probably like some kind of alien Mrs. Piggle Wiggle. Still, something made her hang back.

  “I just…I’m not sure.”

  “Well, suite yourself, little Mistress.” The old lady shrugged her boney shoulders, her long white dress rustling. “But I can’t help those as don’t want to be helped.”

  “But I do want to be helped!” Emily protested. “I want to stop this…this whole process. And I want to go back to normal and live my life and not feel like my whole body is turning against me!”

  “Well, of course you do.” Grandy See-er took Emily’s arm and stroked it comfortingly. “Tis a strange and scary change you’re going through, little Mistress and old Grandy would like to help you if you’ll be let her.”

  The touch of the soft, wrinkled hand somehow decided her. Surely nothing bad could happen to her while she was with such a sweet old lady!

  “All right,” she said, smiling. “I guess it can’t hurt, as long as you promise we’ll be back soon.”

  “Of course, little Mistress.” Grandy See-er patted her arm again and her faded blue eyes seemed to sparkle strangely. “Of course. Now come along—we have much to do.”

  * * * * *

  “Tragar! So good to see you again!” Xen’dex ushered him into the small domicile with a smile. “No, don’t shut the door. We leave them open here—it is the Wulven way.”

  “Xen’dex, my old master!” Tragar clasped arms with him in a warrior’s greeting, glad to feel that his old teacher’s grip was still as strong as ever. “You’ve scarcely aged a day,” he remarked, looking at his master.

  Indeed, except for his long hair being iron gray now, Xen’dex was much the same as Tragar remembered when he’d learned from him as a young male.

  “The years have been kind.” Xen’dex nodded.

  “To some of us,” Tragar muttered. He broke the warrior’s clasp and stepped back a little to look around. The domicile was long and low and the same moss that carpeted the forest floor served as a floor covering inside. On a small table stood a holo of Xen’dex with his arm around a pretty, petite female with brilliant blue eyes. “Is that your mate?”

  “Yes, that’s my Saskia.” His master’s chest swelled with pride and his eyes shone with love. “She’s off visiting her kin this day so I’m afraid you won’t get to meet her.”

  Tragar wondered if his master’s mate being out of the house was pure coincidence…or something planned. He supposed he wouldn’t blame Xen’dex if it was the latter. He wouldn’t want any female he loved being around an assassin of the Verrak either.

  “She’s lovely,” he said shortly. “Couldn’t find a female on Rageron you could bond with?”

  “They’re scarce and getting scarcer. How many years since you were home?”

  “I have no home now,” Tragar said grimly. “But I haven’t been back to Rageron since Landra and Jalex…” He shook his head. “I haven’t been back in a while.”

  “I understand,” Xen’dex said quietly. “It must be difficult for you to go back now.”

  “Difficult but necessary.” Tragar sighed. “I must get Emily to the Holy Mountains before she enters the fourth stage of her Shift. In fact, I’d like to get her there before she enters the third stage—or even gets to the last part of the second.”

  “That may not be possible. Tell me about her—where did you find her? How did she come to be so far from Rageron?” Xen’dex asked, leading him further into the domicile.

  “She was a target—is a target,” Tragar admitted heavily. “I don’t expect you to understand or approve,” he added quickly, seeing the flash in his old master’s golden eyes. “I took her contract because the male who contacted me claimed she was dangerous and deserving of death.”

  Xen’dex arched an eyebrow at him as he led Tragar into a small, comfortably furnished room with low, legless chairs. He lowered himself with a warrior’s grace and sat back against one, letting his legs rest on the purple moss. He motioned at Tragar to take another.

  “So is she? Dangerous?”

  “Of course not! Emily’s sweet and kind—she teaches younglings for a living. She loves them and cares for them deeply. She’s always gentle when they’re hurt or upset and she—” Tragar stopped abruptly, realizing that his old master was staring at him with a small smile playing about his lips. “She’s not dangerous and she doesn’t deserve to die,” he finished. “Obviously, the male who convinced me to take her contract lied.”

  “And what do you plan to do about that?” Xen’dex murmured. “My understanding was that if you don’t kill her, you must kill yourself. Or one of your order will come after you and do it for you.”

  The narsh on Tragar’s arm burned but he ignored it.

  “I’m on my guard against any such eventuality but right now I’m more concerned with getting her safely to Rageron,” he said. “I don’t know how long she was in the first stage, Kalor, but she passed into Scintil very quickly and I’m afraid she’ll speed through the rest of the stages before I can get her to the Holy Mountains where the elders can…” The words seemed to stick in his throat but he forced them out anyway. “Can help her find a mate to bond with.”

  “And this is what you truly want? For h