Sianim 01 - Masques

that signaled the shapeshifter’s exit.
    Once they’d left her, she sat up and waved on the lights. “Hearing voices now?” she said. “It is sad to say, Aralorn, but you have definitely lost whatever touch of sanity you once had. That bodes well for the coming adventure though—only an insane person would go to the ae’Magi’s castle three times. Once was enough, twice was too many, but my little voices tell me that I’m going to make it three.”
    She shook her head in mock disgust. Knowing that she wasn’t going to get any more sleep, she got up, strapped on her knives, and began stretching. By the time she had warmed up, she knew how she was going to arrange to accompany Wolf.
    Before first light hit the mountainside, she snuck out on four feet, following the tracking spell she’d set into the bottom of his left boot a couple of weeks past. It led her to a small cave Wolf occupied. She had never been in it and was distracted from her intended goal by the opportunity to see a different side to her mysterious magician. He kept a small magelight glowing to keep the room from the total darkness that was natural to the cave. Wolf himself was lying with his back to her on a cot against the far end of the room.
    Although it was spartan and immaculate, she could tell by the smell that Wolf had occupied it for a long time—longer than the few months Myr had been hiding in the Northlands. Being a mouse had its advantages.
    Fascinated, she wandered around, noticing that for all of its surface plainness, there were touches that showed an appreciation of beauty in small things: A small knob of rock reaching up from the floor was polished to a high gloss. A large clear glass vessel was placed in a secure nook; the tiny fractures that spiderwebbed the glass glittered even in the dim light.
    Wolf moved restlessly on the bed. Aralorn waited to make sure that he was still sleeping before she crept into the pack that lay out of place near the entrance, trusting that its position signified that it was something he was going to take with him.
    She made a place for herself among the various items and sat very still. She didn’t have to wait long. Although he had announced that he would leave at first light, she wasn’t at all surprised that he was leaving well before that. It had been obvious that neither she nor Myr had been particularly happy with his decision to go and face the ae’Magi alone.
    To her relief, he swung the pack up and carried it with him when he departed. She hadn’t quite figured out what she would have done if he’d left it.
    She felt the roar of dizziness that signaled the magical leap from one place to another. When the sensation passed, she scrambled for a secure position in which the shuffling contents, which seemed to consist of nothing but hard angular objects, were not as likely to squish her. Even in human form, it seemed that Wolf’s favorite gait was a ground-eating run.
    Apparently he had arrived at a point several miles from the castle, as he ran for a long time. Battered and bruised, Aralorn was beginning to wish she’d figured out a better way to accompany him.

    When Wolf opened the pack, the first thing that he saw was a bedraggled gray mouse, who looked at him with reproachful eyes, and said, “Would it have hurt to pack something soft, like a shirt or something?”
    He should have been surprised. Or angry. He found himself, instead, absurdly grateful.
    He picked her up out of the bag and held her at eye level in the palm of his hand. “When one comes along without being invited, one cannot complain about the accommodations.”
    “Oh dear,” said the mouse, in a shocked voice. “I hope I am not intruding.”
    He took off the silver mask, and sat cross-legged on the ground—careful not to knock her off her perch on the palm of his hand. “I don’t suppose that you would go back, would you? I trust it has occurred to you that it would be very easy for the ae’Magi to use you against me.”
    She ran up his arm and poised for an instant on his shoulder.
    “Yes,” she replied, cleaning her whiskers, “but it also occurred to me that my wolf was going off alone to kill his father. Granted that he is not the typical father, but—I don’t think this is as easy for you as you’d like everyone to believe.”
    She hesitated for a minute before she continued. “I know how he is. How he can twist things until black seems white. His power is frightening, but it is not as