Magic Rises

is a lamassu?”
    Atsany shrugged. “Feed it human meat,” the shepherd translated.
    Duh. Ask a dumb question . . . “Is there any other way?”
    “No.”
    “Do they have any kind of weakness? Anything special?”
    Astamur sighed. “He says they don’t like silver.”
    I must’ve looked desperate, because Atsany came over and petted my hand. It will be alright.
    I sighed. “Can I have more wine?”
    * * *
    The sky turned dark. I lay on the blanket watching the stars sparkling like diamonds. The moon shone bright, spilling veils of ethereal light onto the mountains. Maybe it was my imagination, but the night seemed brighter here. Perhaps the mountains brought us closer to the moon.
    A soothing calm came over me. The castle and the strain of being there had worn me down, and right now I couldn’t care less about Curran, Hugh, or Roland. The pressurized walls that had ground on me while I was there fell away. I just wanted to stay here, lie on my blanket, and be free.
    Maybe if I was extra lucky, Hugh and Curran would elope together and take Lorelei with them while I was gone.
    I would probably go back in the morning. But right now I just didn’t want to, and the thought of running away tasted so sweet, I was afraid to turn it over in my mind. I could disappear into these mountains and live a simple life: hunt, fish, grow fruit trees, and not have to worry about anything.
    Atsany told us great stories of his people, of fighting giants and dragons, of great heroes— narty —and winged horses. Astamur translated quietly, sitting propped against a pillow.
    “. . . the great Giant-adau saw the strange herd of horses in his pasture. He crossed his huge arms and bellowed. ‘Whose horses are these? They look like the narty’s horses, but the narty wouldn’t dare—’”
    Astamur fell silent. Atsany blinked and poked the shepherd’s boot with his pipe. I leaned over. Astamur was staring at the mountain, his jaw slack.
    I turned.
    A massive beast dashed along the mountain apex. Huge, at least six hundred pounds, the creature covered the distance in great leaps. The moonlight traced his gray mane and slid off the thick cords of his muscles. He was neither beast nor man, but a strange four-legged meld of the two, built to run despite his bulk.
    How the hell did he even find me?
    Atsany jumped up and down, waving his pipe. Without taking his gaze from the beast, Astamur reached for his rifle. “A demon?”
    “No, not a demon.” I might have preferred one. “That’s my boyfriend.”
    Atsany and the shepherd turned to look at me.
    “Boyfriend?” Astamur said.
    Curran saw us. He paused on a stone crag and roared. The raw declaration of strength cracked through the mountains, rolling down the cliffs like a rockslide.
    “Yep. Don’t worry. He’s harmless.”
    Curran charged down the mountain. Most nonlamassu shapeshifters had two forms, human and animal. The more skilled of them could hold a third one, a warrior form, an upright, monstrous hybrid of the two designed for inflicting maximum damage. Curran had a fourth, a hybrid closer to the lion than to a human. I’d seen it only once before, when Saiman pissed him off out of his mind and Curran chased him and me through the city. It was the night we made love for the first time.
    If he thought this would win him any favors, he would be seriously disappointed.
    The giant leonine beast galloped down the mountain and across the grass, heading straight for us. The moonlight spilling from the sky set his back aglow, highlighting the dark stripes crossing the gray fur.
    Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten.
    Atsany and Astamur froze, rigid.
    Five.
    The colossal lion jumped and landed a foot away from me, the dark mane streaming. The impact of his leap sent sparks flying from the fire. His eyes burned with molten gold. The powerful feline maw gaped open, showing terrifying fangs as big as my hand. Curran snarled.
    I swatted him on the nose. “Stop it! You’re scaring the people who rescued me.”
    The gray lion snapped into a human form. Curran jerked his hands up as if crushing an invisible boulder. “Aaaaaa!”
    Okay.
    He grabbed the edge of a big rock sticking out of the grass. Muscles flexed on his naked frame. He wrenched the boulder out of the ground. The four-foot-long rock had to weigh several thousand pounds—his feet sank into the grass. Curran snarled and hurled the rock against the mountain. The boulder flew, hit like a cannon ball, and rolled back