He pinched it with his other hand.
"No … don't!" Wynn gasped.
Before she could stop him, Chane pulled off the ring.
Wynn heard Shade's quick snarl behind her, but that was all.
"She knows," Chane said. "Perhaps has known all along."
Wynn twisted about.
Shade still sat on the floor, but her ears were flattened. Her jowls curled at Chane before her crystal blue eyes turned back on Wynn. Shade grew quiet once more.
"I knew the risk," Chane whispered. "It was the only way for her to see my chosen memories and hope she understood."
Wynn studied Shade, still unsure what this really meant. One thing was certain—Shade was aware of much more than she let on. Without warning, Wynn whispered one sharp word at Shade.
"Chane."
Shade's gaze wavered, flickering briefly toward him.
"I saw that!" Wynn accused. "You little sneak!"
"What are you talking about?" Chane asked.
"Her!" Wynn jabbed a finger at Shade.
With a throaty whine, Shade cocked her head.
"You're not the only thing she knows about," Wynn accused. "All this time, twisting my head apart until it aches, trying to use memory-speak, because it was all she understood … and she's been lying to me! She knows words!"
Chane let out a tired groan that sounded more like a hiss. "Names, perhaps … only because she has heard them, connected them to someone."
Wynn didn't believe it, but it was easy enough to test. Keeping her thoughts clear of memories, she scanned the little room. She spotted the sheathed sun crystal where she'd left it.
"Staff!" she said pointedly.
Shade started to turn her head but halted. In barely a blink, her ears lowered and she didn't look back up at Wynn.
"That's it!" Wynn growled. "Get over here, you … you obstinate … adolescent!"
With one quick step, Wynn made a grab for Shade's scruff—and missed.
Shade scooted her butt back across the floor. One snort and a huff, and she made a face at Wynn, wrinkled and repugnant, like she'd tasted something foul.
"Wynn, this is not the time," Chane warned.
"Oh, yes, it is!" Wynn shot back, still eyeing the dog. "If we're headed into more trouble, I've no time to constantly wrestle with memories. She's going to stop being stubborn and start doing things my way. Now … come here, Shade!"
This time, Shade spun on her butt. She pushed off from a squat and leaped straight up and over the bed's foot. The sight would've scared most people, but not Wynn.
"Don't you run from me!" she ordered, making another grab.
Her hand slipped too quickly down Shade's rising back and haunches. When her fingers crossed the dog's tail, she clenched her grip.
In the years to come, Wynn would look back on this moment and cringe. Snatching the tail of a now panicked wild animal taller than any wolf would be one—among many—of the stupidest things she'd ever done. But in the moment, she didn't care, until …
Shade yelped and twisted her head back with a snarl. Standing on the bed, she leveled her eyes with Wynn's—and Wynn balked.
"Stop it!" Chane said sharply. "She will turn on you!"
"No, she w—"
A squeak of shock was all Wynn finished with, as Shade lunged away.
Chane rushed by as Wynn's legs caught on the bed's foot, and her feet left the floor. Still clinging to Shade's tail, she shot forward and landed facedown on the hard pile mattress. Half of Wynn's breath rushed out in a grunt, and Shade's tail slipped from her hand.
Wynn rolled onto her side, trying to sit up. She heard Shade utter a vicious snarl and shrank away, flopping over on her back.
"Get back!" Chane hissed, and his hand shot out above Wynn.
She saw him try to shove Shade away.
"Chane, don't—" she started to warn.
Shade had already wheeled upon the bed.
Chane's hand barely lighted on her shoulder when she twisted her head and nipped him. He snatched his hand back, clutching it in shock. Before Wynn could react, large forepaws landed against her side and shoved.
With another squeal, Wynn slid sharply across the bed, over its side, and straight into Chane's legs. He toppled as she flopped on the floor and quickly scrambled over onto her hands and knees. Chane sat on his rump, staring at his shaking hand.
"It burns," he whispered, "like …"
Like Magiere's blade, Wynn thought, though Chane never finished. Then Wynn saw the smudge of oily black fluid above the base of Chane's thumb.
As far as Wynn knew, the only other things in this world beside Magiere's falchion that could sear an undead with a wound were the teeth and claws of a majay-hì. Shade had broken Chane's skin, and though she obviously hadn't intended serious harm, she'd gone too far.
"Damnation!" Wynn swore, clawing up and over the bedside. "How many pain-in-the-ass majay-hì do I have to fight with in one lifetime?"
Shade wasn't there—not exactly.
The tips of two tall, dark ears peeked above the bed's other side. For Shade's size, it was ridiculous for her to think she could hide there.
"Shade," Wynn said, "I'm your elder, no matter why your father sent you!"
The dog's head rose just enough to reveal her yellow-flecked blue eyes. She blinked slowly with mocking, sleepy-eyed disinterest, and swung her muzzle over to rest upon the bed.
Then she snorted.
Wynn lost her last grain of calm. "You will learn more words … if I have to pin your ears back and shout them into that stubborn head!"
Shade wrinkled her jowls—and her tongue flicked out and up over the tip of her nose.
Wynn stiffened. That impudent gesture was all too familiar—like the one Chap always used. She stabbed a finger across the bed, straight at Shade's nose.
"Don't you sass me, young lady!"
Chapter 15
The following night, Chane trailed Shade up the jagged shoreline and helped Wynn along behind as often as she would let him. With her pack over one shoulder, she gripped both her staff and cold lamp crystal on that same side, leaving one hand free for climbing. The crystal's light leaked between her clenched fingers.
Chane was little burdened by his two packs, though he had lashed his broken long sword over his back. He also carried a long steel pry bar in one hand. This had cost all of their dwarven slugs and two silver Numan pennies. Hopefully, it would be stout enough for him to breach the tunnel's two grates.
Since Shade's revelation of the hidden tunnel, and the subsequent dispute over her awareness of language, Wynn had barely spoken to the dog. This, more than need of Shade's lead, was the reason for their procession's present order.
They had left the upper inn following Shade's tantrum, hurrying to prepare. While in the market, Wynn had tried several times to speak simple nouns to Shade, pointing to associated objects. She urged the dog to identify similar items in their surroundings. Shade complied a few times and then ceased altogether. She repeatedly tried to shove her head under Wynn's hand, likely to use memory-speak instead. Wynn always pulled her hand away.
As they had finally headed for the lift, Shade tried again to duck under Wynn's hand. When she failed, two steps later Wynn halted, turning on the dog in angry astonishment. Chane had not really wanted to ask, but he did. It seemed Shade had raised one of Wynn's memories about creatures seen in the Elven Territories—something called "fra'cise."
"She thinks I jabber like a monkey!" Wynn fumed, and stormed off toward the lift.
For Chane, dealing with those two was becoming exasperating. His hand still burned lightly from Shade's bite, and Wynn was being as obstinate as the dog. From what Chane gathered, Shade's memory of rediscovering the inlet had been more vivid than Wynn could verbally describe. But amid the pair's nearly silent form of bickering, Chane did have one realization.