They might not last, but they could give Magiere time and advantage.
Welstiel focused, calling upon the dogs' dormant predator nature. That latent ancestry lay suppressed beneath generations of domestication, but some spark of the beast buried within them was necessary for his effort to work.
He built an image of the great cats in his own mind. One hound bared its teeth with a growl, and the other quivered as it inched toward him.
Welstiel ducked behind the door as he pulled it open, and the hounds rushed through.
Hunger burned strength into Magiere, and instinct was all that kept her dodging Ventina's quick and fluid strikes. Each time Magiere lashed out with the dagger, Ventina's muscles shifted rapidly, and the cat aimed another slash of her claws.
Magiere heard Chap's snarls, but Paris yowled with equal rage from beyond the storage room's archways.
She twisted right on the floor, as Ventina slammed a large paw down toward her face, then whipped back and stabbed for the cat's throat. Her dagger sank into Ventina's shoulder, and the cat squalled in pain. Magiere rolled free, scrambling to her knees with the dagger poised. Ventina tried to lunge, but her foreleg wouldn't hold, and she stumbled.
Growls rang out behind Magiere, and she glanced toward the sound.
Two wolfhounds rushed between stacked crates, and despair crippled Magiere's rage. She heaved herself backward to her feet.
Emel was up again, and Magiere shouted, "Watch Chap's back!"
She steeled herself as the lead hound charged toward her. It barreled straight into Ventina, and the second dog leaped to the top of a wide crate. As Ventina roared and twisted about at her new attacker, the second hound leaped from the crate toward Paris.
Magiere hesitated in confusion.
Ventina's hindquarters became exposed when she turned on the hound, and Emel stepped in, straight saber gripped two-handed. He rammed the blade through her back.
Its point came out the bottom of her rib cage. She squalled and crumpled to thrash wildly upon the floor.
Magiere rushed out the nearest archway into the passage. Faris faced both Chap and the second wolfhound, but Magiere saw no way to join in the narrow space. Chap looked as feral as he had the day at the Stravinan border. He snapped like a wild animal.
The wolfhound had landed behind Faris, and the cat was boxed between the two dogs. It clamped its jaws on Faris's hind leg. As the cat twisted back to snap at the hound, Chap lunged in. His teeth closed on Faris's throat just below his jaw, and Chap thrashed his head wildly.
Blood spattered the wall and floor as Faris's throat tore away. Chap leaped to the side, the silver fur of his face stained red and dripping.
Faris's panicked yowl ended in strangled choking. He collapsed, squirming, with the wolfhound still tearing at his leg.
Magiere saw Faris's fur begin to recede.
His body writhed within his skin as if another form hid within it and struggled to emerge. Fur on his head grew to dark hair as his one ear slipped down the side of his elongating head. The more he changed, the feebler his movements became.
Faris's naked body lay dead before Magiere, with the torn muscle and sinew of his throat still leaking blood across the stone floor.
"Stop," Magiere shouted at the wolfhound.
Her voice sounded clear to her own ears, and her teeth had shifted halfway back to normal. With the change came returning fatigue and a burning ache in her left arm where she'd been clawed.
Someone coughed.
Magiere stepped through the archway toward the strangled weeping among the crates and barrels. Ventina had changed as well and lay naked with Emel's blade through her back. She tried to gasp air while tears ran down her face.
This wasn't what Magiere had wanted, and she knelt down at Ventina's side. These people were slaves just as Leesil had been. Emel knelt beside her, his expression troubled.
Ventina grabbed Magiere's forearm, glaring up with a strange mix of panic and lingering hate. "Korey…" she choked out, and her eyes shifted to Emel. "You know what he'll do to her."
Emel sagged with a slow sigh. "I will protect your daughter, as best I can."
Ventina's breathing slowed as she stared wide-eyed up at Emel. When her breath stopped altogether, her eyes remained open. Her grip was still tight on Magiere's arm, and Magiere went numb, peeling the dead fingers away.
"Are you badly hurt?" Emel asked.
"I'm all right." The slashes were bleeding but not deep, and she would heal quickly enough.
"Look away," he said. "I have to free my sword."
If he had any idea what horrors Magiere had witnessed in her life, he would never have said such a thing to her. Magiere found his strange chivalry curious. He jerked the blade free of Ventina's body with a sickening wet sound.
Something nudged Magiere's side. She looked around 10 Chap's blood-soaked face. The sight no longer bothered her as it once had, and she stood up.
"We have to find Leesil."
Chap barked once.
"Hide the bodies first," Emel said. "Even with the blood here, it's best their deaths are not discovered too soon."
For the first time Magiere could remember, a sweet coppery scent filled her head. Her gaze shifted to the red pool spreading around Ventina's corpse. The sight made the smell even sharper, but there was no time to ponder why this new awareness plagued her now.
Both wolfhounds had ceased growling and trotted back toward the far end of the storage area. Magiere ignored them and helped Emel drag Faris and Ventina through the last of the three doors at the room's back. She sheathed her dagger, picked up her falchion, and followed Chap to the south stairway with Emel close behind.
Welstiel put a hand to his face in quiet relief. Magiere's injuries were minimal. There was nothing more he could do at the moment to drive her from this place. He watched quietly until he was certain that she and her companions were gone, then slipped out to follow. He ignored the wolfhounds and crept up the south staircase.
The door at the top was closed, and he crouched upon the landing. With his senses fully open, he picked up voices as far away as the keep's wide entryway. This was as good a place as any to wait for opportunity. He had yet to drive Magiere from this land.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Hedi stared at the pale man crouched over Wynn, his hands wet with the soldier's blood. Her stomach still lurched from what she had seen him do. She tried not to shake as she held the dagger out at him.
He looked familiar, but she could not think of where she had seen him. The cloak he wore was well-made, and his even features were distorted in a feral expression. He might have been handsome, if not for the predator's crouch on all fours. Hedi did not trust handsome men.
"Do you still wish to live?" he rasped.
His words were little more than a harsh whisper, as if injury or illness had crippled his voice.
"Who are you?" she whispered back, trying to be both quiet and forceful. "What do you want with her?"
He glanced down at Wynn. When he looked up again, Hedi' felt cold. His strangely beautiful eyes were like crystallized ice.
"You are Lady Hedi Progae," he rasped, merely stating a fact. "You seek to escape from the lower level of this keep. An innkeeper named Byrd is to wait for you on the lake's far side. I suspect you assume Baron Milea will be there as well."
Hedi' lowered the dagger only an inch. "Are you with Byrd? Did he send you?"
Such contempt crossed the man's face that her hope died instantly. She backstepped, trying to keep fear from overcoming her wits.
"Your plans are nothing to me," he said. "Help me get Wynn to her companions, and I will protect you."