The howl sounded once again, and this time, a chorus of several others joined in.

“Areots!” Teral hissed, taking his hand off the rélim and spinning around. His face was white, and, for the first time, he looked frightened. “Hurry—we’ve got to get out of here!”

Galeth had already started for the door, but after a few steps, he paused, looking at Jechrin. “The boy! We can use him to draw them off.” There was an almost wild desperation in his eyes as he spoke. “He deserves it—the traitor!”

He started toward Jechrin and Erin, but Teral moved forward, shoving Galeth away from them.

“No!” Teral snarled. “Just run! Head for the garden tunnel. Go!”

Galeth went, without looking back. Erin could just hear his running footsteps over the continuing howls from outside, which were getting louder.

Teral, however, didn’t run. He dropped down on his knees in front of Jechrin and Erin and took hold of Jechrin’s arm, pulling it out toward him and turning it palm side up. He ran a finger quickly down the underside of the forearm, leaving a long, bloody cut. 

Jechrin's eyes widened in surprise as Teral lay his own arm over the wound. There was a faint glow of magic between them, and then Teral lifted his arm, which was now coated with Jechrin’s blood.

“You’ll be fine as long as you stay here until they’re gone.” Teral spoke quickly, his words punctuated by howls and barking from outside. He stood up. “I’ll lock the doors.”

"You...? Why...?" Jechrin was staring at him with an expression of disbelief.

"I told you, didn't I?" Teral had switched to speaking in Myrik, and his gaze lingered on the mark on Jechrin's forehead, which was still visible, although it was no longer glowing. "The will of the king is absolute. I don't know how you met the true king or why he would put his mark on a half-blood. But as a marked Blue, it's my duty to protect anyone who bears the Silver crest. No matter who they are..." he added with a glance at Erin.

Then he turned and was gone, closing the door behind him.

Jechrin stared at the door for a long moment. Then he looked down at his right arm. Whatever magic Teral had used had made it stop bleeding, but the long gash was still there, covered by a layer of partially dried blood.

"Truly, a loyal Blue to the end...." he said softly, speaking in Myrik. Then he sighed. "Such a pity that you were loyal to the wrong Silver up until now...."

The howls were still echoing through the night. Yelps and snarls were soon added to the mix, as though there were a fight going on. There were also muffled shouts and several high-pitched screams.

“Can you see what’s going on out there?” Kirchel asked.

“No, it’s too dark,” Anthony said. “I’ve seen a few people running past down in the garden, but that’s it.” He paused. “Those howls are giving me the creeps. What are they coming from? Wolves? A pack of hunting hounds?”

“They’re areots, like Teral said,” Sarah told him quietly. “So yes, a pack of hunting hounds is an accurate enough description. They’re not like any hounds you’ve ever seen in the human world, though. They’d make a pack of angry Dobermans look like cute little Chihuahuas.”

A rather grim silence followed this statement, filled only by the ongoing sounds of howling and snarling.

“Aren’t areots also called ‘Relian hounds’?” Kirchel asked, rather tentatively. Erin felt Jechrin shift uncomfortably at her words.

“Yes, they are,” Sarah said, speaking even more quietly. “They were bred centuries ago during the war with Myrikar. Bred specifically to hunt and kill Relians.”

The three of them all looked over at Jechrin.

“Are they going to come after Jechrin, then?” Kirchel sounded worried. “Is he in danger?”

Sarah shook her head, causing her bat-like ears to make a flapping sound. “Didn’t you see what Teral did before he left? Well...I guess it’s not something that Silmariths would do very often, so maybe you didn’t recognize it for what it was. Gatekeepers call it ‘scent-stealing.’ Teral took Jechrin’s scent. The areots won’t be able to tell he’s here until the magic wears off, which will take a while.”

“Took his scent?” Anthony repeated. “So he smells like Jechrin now? Or does he smell like himself and Jechrin?”

“Like both. Scent-switching wouldn’t have helped Jechrin at all. He’d still smell like a Relian then.”

“But smelling like two Relians will make it easier for those hound things to catch him, won’t it?” Anthony said, sounding dubious. “He’s a murderer! That’s not the kind of person who would put himself in danger for someone else.”

There was a pause. 

“I guess...” Kirchel said slowly. “I guess even a murderer can still care about his son.”

There was a bitter expression on Jechrin's face. "He never cared about me as his son. He only cared about living up to that Blue crest on his forehead...the idiot...." he muttered under his breath.

But the words were in Myrik, and he said them very softly. So Erin was the only one who could hear and understand them.

 

---

 

Erin opened her eyes.

She must have dozed off. But looking toward the window, she saw that it was still dark outside, so she probably hadn't been asleep for long.

She looked around. Kirchel, Sarah, and Anthony were all still trapped inside the rélim, and the three of them seemed to have fallen asleep. Sarah was lying on the floor with her head resting on her front paws, and Kirchel was leaning against her side with one of Sarah's huge wings wrapped around her like a blanket. Anthony was sitting in the armchair that had been caught inside the shield with them, his head drooping down to one side.

Erin was stretched out on the floor in front of the desk. Jechrin had pulled a couple of tapestries off the walls for her to lie on. The door to the study was locked with magic, and Jechrin was too exhausted from the magic he'd used earlier to be able to open it, so their resources were limited. But she was tired enough not to care too much about her makeshift bed being a bit hard.

Jechrin himself was sitting next to her, leaning back against the desk. She'd tried to convince him to go sit in the chair behind the desk, which looked much more comfortable than the floor, but he'd refused, saying it was better if he stayed close to her.

Erin wasn't sure exactly why it was better, but she didn't argue. It was pretty comforting to have him there, holding onto her hand. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was asleep, but when she looked up at him, he gave her hand a light squeeze, even though he didn't open his eyes.

Hadn't he said something about his body here being just a puppet? Maybe he didn't actually need to sleep. He'd seemed awfully tired, though....

The room was quiet. The sounds of the areots had died away some time ago. After that, Kirchel and Sarah had spent a while comparing notes on what had happened during the previous few hours, and all five of them had spent some time waiting anxiously for something else to happen.

But when nothing else had, and when the talk had finally run out, sleeping was really the only thing left to do.

Sleeping and waiting.

Erin closed her eyes again. The pain in her head had eased a little, but her forehead still ached. 

And for good reason. She couldn't see it herself, but from what Sarah and Kirchel had said, Jechrin seemed to have literally branded his crest onto her skin. Kirchel said there was a red, painful-looking burn mark there, and Sarah had been angry enough at Jechrin that she might have attacked him if she hadn't been stuck inside the rélim.

Though they both calmed down a little when Jechrin told them that the burn mark had been what stopped Teral from attacking and killing Erin, though he wouldn't explain any more than that.

Erin herself had seen enough of Jechrin's memories to know that being given a mark was considered a great honor in Relian society—much more a Silver crest given by the rightful king. And she remembered the way his own crest had looked red and raw at the time of his coronation ceremony. That knowledge, along with the fact that the mark had made Teral back off, kept her from feeling too resentful about her aching head.

But she was seriously hoping that Arturyn's rescue party included a healer who could use some kind of pain relief magic....

Erin was just starting to doze off again when she felt Jechrin stir beside her. Looking up at him, she saw that he'd opened his eyes and raised his head. He was looking at the door to the study. Turning to follow his gaze, Erin noticed that Sarah had also lifted her head and was looking at the door with her ears pricked up.

Erin shook herself back awake and listened for sounds coming from the next room.

She heard footsteps. Then the voices of two men. Was that Teral and Galeth coming back...?

Apparently not, since Sarah, who had far keener ears, suddenly looked relieved and let out several loud barks that made Kirchel and Anthony both jerk awake and look around in confusion.

"Sarah, what—?" Kirchel began groggily. But she broke off abruptly as the door rattled and a man's voice came from just outside it.

"Sharia? Is that you? Kirchel? Erin?"

"Arturyn!" Kirchel's voice had something of a squeak to it, but she was scrambling to her feet with an eager look on her face. "Yes, we're all here! We can't get out!"

There was some brief murmuring on the other side of the door. Then it flew open, and Legan appeared in the doorway, followed closely by Arturyn and Kimoja. 

Legan seemed to take the entire room in with a glance. Then he went straight to the spot where Teral had been trying to unlock the rélim. Within seconds, the shield was gone and Kirchel had run into Arturyn's waiting arms.

"Kirchel..." he whispered, holding her tightly. "I was so afraid...." He broke off, burying his face in her hair. 

They were both silent for a long moment. Then Arturyn sighed and loosened his hold. 

"Is everyone all right?" He looked down at Kirchel and then around at the others, his expression concerned. "I told you not to come..." he added to Sarah with a trace of a growl in his voice.

"Well, if we hadn't, all your political protocols and legal processes would have gotten you here just in time to see Kirchel off on her honeymoon," Sarah retorted with an actual growl. "And the three of us are fine, aside from the scratches and bruises that Anthony got from Kirchel when Teral had her bewitched." Then her expression softened, and she looked worried. "Erin and Jechrin aren't though. Teral attacked Erin, and then...we're not really sure what happened. They're both too weak to talk much. But...Erin's face...."

Frowning, Arturyn let go of Kirchel, and they both turned toward Erin and Jechrin. Kimoja was already kneeling down in front of them, frowning and looking them over in the same x-ray-like way that she had looked at Erin back at the eyathar.

"Can you tell what's wrong with them?" Kirchel asked her, looking anxious. "Can you help them?"

"I'm not really sure what's wrong," Kimoja said, looking puzzled. "Jechrin's arm is cut, and then there's this burn...." She trailed off, looking between Erin's face and the white mark still visible on Jechrin's forehead. "There's some kind of powerful magic reaction happening between the two of them, centered around these marks. That should be what's causing the physical weakness. But it's having other effects, too...I don't quite understand them."

"Let me take a look." Legan came over and knelt down next to his wife. He was quiet for a moment, looking back and forth between Erin and Jechrin with a contemplative expression on his face. "Is this...some kind of magical contract? It's not one I'm familiar with, though...."

"Jechrin said that he did it to stop Teral from killing Erin," Kirchel said. "But he couldn't tell us much more than that."

Arturyn moved a little closer and looked down at Erin. Then his eyes suddenly widened, and his face went a shade paler. "That...that mark...."

"You recognize it?" Jechrin asked him quietly, speaking in Myrik. Erin thought he sounded slightly amused.

Arturyn turned to him, his brow furrowed. "You have one too?" he asked, looking more closely at Jechrin's forehead. He was also speaking Myrik now. "But how did you...? How long have you had that mark? Do you know what it is?"

"Of course. It's the Silver crest. The mark of the royal family of Myrikar." Jechrin smiled faintly. "But you knew that already...right?"

Arturyn's eyes narrowed. "You and I clearly need to have a nice, long talk...." He looked back at Erin, and his expression softened again. "Though I guess it can wait until we've taken care of her."

"She should be all right if she rests for a while," Jechrin said, switching back to Silmarith. "She's just having a bit of a reaction to the magic I used on her. It will wear off in a day or two, once her body adjusts. Just use some healing magic to ease her pain and then let her sleep."

"And what about you?" Kimoja asked.

"I'm just tired," Jechrin said with a sigh. "Magic exhaustion. I just need to rest for a while, too."

"Pretty strange-looking case of magic exhaustion..." Legan said, giving him a skeptical look. "But I'll admit I'm not that familiar with Relian magic. So if you say you're all right...."

"I'm fine," Jechrin said firmly. "I just need to rest."

The two of them looked at each other silently for a moment. Erin glanced between them, feeling a little anxious. 

Legan was the head of Zeiryn, wasn't he? Didn't that mean he was a really powerful mage? Had he noticed that there was something strange about Jechrin's body?

"All right," Legan said finally. He looked at Kimoja. "Go ahead and do what he says."

Kimoja nodded and placed her fingertips on Erin's temples. "Just close your eyes and relax," she said gently.

Erin obediently closed her eyes. She felt a warm sensation coming from Kimoja's fingers and spreading through her head, making the pain fade away. Her body relaxed, and she drifted off to sleep.