"Yes," said Tal. "I found some books in my father's library. It's what they did to me. It's when they hunt a man."
"Or a woman," said Feena. "If she evades them all night, she keeps her life and wins a boon."
"So, what? Rusk owes me a wish?"
"He's not a genie, Tal," said Feena impatiently. "He's just a man, a werewolf. A cleric of Malar. Besides, that wasn't a High Hunt. Normally, the prey is feasted and knows what's happening from the start. It was because of the High Hunts that Mother left him. She didn't want me killing people the way he did. She wanted him to be the Black Wolf and change all the ceremonies back to something that served people rather than treating them like prey."
"If it wasn't a High Hunt, why did he attack me?" asked Tal. "And not just me but a whole group of us. I'm just the one clever enough to throw himself off a cliff and escape."
Feena didn't notice his attempt at humor. "I don't know. Maybe he really did mean to kill you all. You were encroaching on his territory."
"Maybe," said Tal, "but why follow me back to Sel-gaunt?"
"Mother thought it was because the prophecy about Rusk was both right and wrong. The part about the shadow makes it sound like he wouldn't be the Black Wolf, but he might bring the Black Wolf into being. After their last argument about me, Mother took us both away from the woods and we hid from Rusk. She didn't want me running off to a High Hunt to become like my father."
"She protected you," said Tal. "And she was trying to protect me, too. Wasn't she?"
"She believed you are the Black Wolf, Tal." Feena turned back to look him in the face. Tal had expected tears, but her cheeks were dry. Her anger was gone, but all of its steel remained in her face. "It's been hard to accept, but I realize she was right." She looked at Tal pointedly.
"And now you want to know what I'm going to do with this 'gift'?" he asked.
"Yes. I'll help you."
"No matter what I decide to do with it?"
She hesitated only a moment. "Yes," she said. "I know you aren't like Rusk. At first I thought you were, since you both refuse to listen to anyone else. But you aren't cruel, Tal, and I think you really do care about people. You're just no good at showing it."
"I show it," said Tal a little defensively.
"You're very polite," said Feena. Her smile returned, or at least an echo of it. The sight gave Tal a tickling sensation just below his heart. He liked the little crinkles at the edges of her mouth, and the way her freckles wrinkled on her nose. "And you're even nice, but that isn't enough. Sometimes you have to take action to make things better."
"Like what?"
"I thought you didn't want me telling you what to do."
"Fair enough," admitted Tal.
Now they were both smiling, and somehow they'd gotten a lot closer without Tal's realizing it. He could smell her skin and her hair mingling with the sweet scent of autumn leaves and pumpkins. He made up his mind and kissed her on the cheek. Then he took her hand and began walking back toward the city walls, drawing her along.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed, trying to keep up without being pulled.
"Deciding what to do," he replied breezily.
In truth, he had made no decision. He had only the barest inkling of how to slip back into Selgaunt without being arrested again, and he had no idea how to clear his name after the death of the other wolf. But he felt good for the first time in days. At last he realized that he didn't have to wait for things to come to him. He could take the fight to Rusk. And while the gray wolf might have brought his wolves to the city, Tal had a pack of his own.
And Selgaunt was their territory.
They decided not to risk stealing shoes, so they walked barefoot along the Way of the Manticore and reached the city gates before noon. Normally, visitors would stop by the Outlook Inn for refreshment before joining the queue to enter Selgaunt, but they had no money, and Tal did not dare trade on his family name. He might as well walk straight up to the guards and start barking.
The Scepters at the gate were interested only in collecting taxes on goods. Tal and Feena simply walked past the men, who waved them by with only the barest glance. If their ill-fitting clothes made them conspicuous, it was only as a pair of rude country folk.
They turned left onto Rauncel's Ride and walked quickly through the stockyards. The smell of so many animals penned nearby was not normally appetizing, but Tal felt a hollow pang in his stomach and remembered that he had not eaten since the morning before. He thought a dire warning to his stomach, which growled back at him.
Tal breathed a sigh of relief when they made it to the cloth market, where they could blend anonymously into the mix of country sellers and the servants who had come to shop for household goods. It was unlikely that Tal would encounter any of his peers there.
"If I don't find Chaney at your tallhouse," said Feena, "I'll check the Wide Realms. Either way, I’ll talk to Eckert and meet you before-"
"Tal!" shouted a young woman's voice.
Tal recognized it at once and winced. Before he could pretend he hadn't heard, their eyes met. Hers were such a light hazel that they appeared almost yellow at a distance. Russet hair spilled carelessly from beneath a shapeless brown scarf. The rest of her attire was just as unruly, for Larajin had never been one for primping, much less fashion or cosmetics. Nevertheless, her careless dress did little to conceal her unadorned beauty.
"Who is she?" asked Feena, craning her neck for a better view of Larajin, who was momentarily hidden in the press.
"Larajin," he said with a sigh. "One of my father's… servants."
Feena gave him a curious look, then tried to spot the young woman again.
"I'd better deal with this myself," he said. "Go on, and I'll meet you later."
Feena eyed him suspiciously then slipped away. Tal knew he would have some more explaining to do soon.
When Tal turned back to spot her, Larajin had already navigated the crowd and stood before him, a tall stack of parcels in her arms.
"Where have you been?" said Larajin, awkwardly shifting the packages. Tal took half of them from her, and she smiled her thanks.
"I spent the night outside the city," he said, feeling ridiculous in the clothes.
"I wasn't talking about your costume," she said. "I meant where have you been for the past year and a half?"
"Oh." Tal assumed she'd heard about his arrest, but Thamalon must have somehow kept the scandal from the house staff. He was good at that. "Well, I'm almost never at Stormweather."
"I've seen you there plenty of times," she said. Tal had not heard her sound so vexed since he was eight years old, and Larajin was charged with keeping him out of mischief. "You've been avoiding me, and I want to know why."
"Avoiding you? Of course I haven't…"
Larajin looked up at Tal's face. "Have you gotten taller?"
"What? No. I don't think so. That's not possible, is it?" He knew he had put on a lot of weight, a lot of muscle, but how could he be growing taller?
"Oh, you're standing on the curb," she said, stepping closer. Her arms pressed against Tal's hip, and he stepped away too quickly.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."
"I'm always happy to see you," he said. As usual when he was off the stage, he sounded as convincing as a Mul-horandi rug merchant.
"Then why do you run off whenever I see you?"
"I don't…" Tal began, but the lie died on his lips.
"What was all that talk about our being friends if this is the way you treat me?" she said.